Zodi’s Blog

Interview with the Gypsy II

Gypsy Rose

This is part II of an interview between me and one of the nutty gypsy women living in my little village in Spain. If you have not read part I then you can do so here.

 

gypsy rose

 

I met her in the local park once again since she isn’t allowed in any establishment in the region. After I proffered her ration of cigarettes and alcohol we got right back into it. As you know the Crazy Ass Gypsy Lady is referred to as GL.

 

GL- So where you been white boy, I ain’t seen you around much?

 

Me- I’ve been busy, I had um….pneumonia.

 

GL- Pneumonia? I don’t even know what the fuck that is. Wait, isn’t that what all the people on the magic pictures box and the magic singing box say when they were just all fucked up?

 

Me- What are you insinuating?

 

GL- Don’t try to trick me with your in-sinful word. Are you putting a curse on me white boy? Hey, are you sure you didn’t suffer from exhaustion?

 

Me- Back off bitch.

 

GL- I’ll bet it was the exhaustion; what, with all of your sitting in the sun, sitting at the magic typing box and siestas taking. Or no, I’ll bet it was really too many fiestas, wasn’t it?

 

Me- Look, I’ll tell you this only one time; don’t ever ask me about my business Kate.

 

GL- My names not Kate, its Crazy Ass Gypsy Lady. Jesus, lay off the fucking drugs white boy.

 

Me- Can you tell me about the life of a gypsy woman?

 

GL- The gypsy women’s life is all about blood. Where do you think the term gypsy rose stems from? Oooh, an unintended pun! Anyway, we have a very hard life. A baby girl is already sold into marriage by the time she is one year old. As long as the elders don’t deem her a ‘fugly.’

 

Me- Are you born in a hospital or at home?

 

GL- We may enjoy stabbing some relatives on occasion, but we’re not barbarians. Of course we’re born in a hospital; we have socialized medicine over here after all.

 

At this point we were interrupted by a crowd of fat white men who started chanting and screaming at us. One of them called her a secret Muslim and me the antichrist. Then they started screaming that nobody even speaks English here anymore and stormed off looking for a “Christian Church not a God-damned Catholic one.” It was pretty odd considering we’re in Spain. Anyway……     

 

Me- Does this work kind of like a dowry or something?

 

GL- What the fuck is a dowry? No, mother fucker, she is sold for some brown for the girl’s family and maybe some chickens and shit. Then as soon as the girl oozes her first blood of the unclean she is to be married. But the marriage preparation is a real mother-fucker white boy. The night before the wedding, the groom’s family takes the girl to their home then lay her spread eagled on a table, then they jam a rose right into the girls wamy-jamy hole. They have a piece of cloth under her, and when it’s all over if the cloth has a blood stain its all good. They bring the cloth out for the families to pass around and celebrate over. Everybody holds the cloth over their cup and takes a drink of hooch through the hoochie stained cloth. And you thought those purity ball fathers were sick fuckers white boy. HUH!

 

Me- Oh my God. I feel sick. Talk about groin mauling.

 

GL- Yea, why do you think we stab each other, and try to run each other over with Peugeots and shit. Our hatred runs so deep we came up with curses. But that ain’t even the worst of it, not by a long shot. If the girl doesn’t bleed then her entire family is ostracized from the gypsy community. Wait, I don’t even know what ostracized means. The girls whole family is kicked the fuck out of the community in Adra. That’s what happened to us. That’s why we is stuck up here in the wilds.

 

Me- There is an entire gypsy community in Adra?         

 

GL- Oh it’s glorious, all the booze, all the heroin, all the new people to stab and club. It’s bigger than the biggest housing project in the land of the MTV.

 

Me- You know MTV?

 

GL- Yea, and that mother fucking Kayne West is a lucky man he ain’t a gypsy. Wouldn’t last a day. Anyway, here we only got each other to stab. And it’s harder than a priapismed love stick to stay in the brown.

 

At this point another guy jumped up out of nowhere and shouted, “You Lie” so I cut the interview short. If you would like to hear more from the Crazy Ass Gypsy Lady, let me know and I’ll visit with her one more time. It’s up to you guys entirely.

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September 16, 2009 - Posted by | Uncategorized | , , ,

19 Comments »

  1. Wow…The whole spread eagle thing, zowie. That is one painful withdrawal from the chick’s lady wallet. When you run into GL again, ask her if she likes Bagwine…I’ll send her some. Cheers Scott!!

    Comment by Matt-Man | September 16, 2009 | Reply

    • Matt-Man, I happen to know for a fact that she loves Bagwine. She may want a little company to go along with it though.

      Comment by Scott Oglesby | September 16, 2009 | Reply

  2. nice work!

    Comment by davis | September 16, 2009 | Reply

    • Thanks Davis, nice to see you again!

      Comment by Scott Oglesby | September 16, 2009 | Reply

  3. welcome semi-regular back
    I missed ya 😉

    I often stared blankly at my magic typing box yearning for twisted and irreverent prose, at least I had Matt-Man and Jay

    I’d love to hear more from GL, she’s so inspiring

    Comment by dianne | September 16, 2009 | Reply

    • Thanks Dianne, I missed you too! You never have to stare blankly at your magic typing box. There’s nothing but solid gold on my blogroll, check them out. Most of them are better than me. I do have a feeling that you haven’t heard the last of GL yet!

      Comment by Scott Oglesby | September 16, 2009 | Reply

  4. This is brilliant, Scott…you’ve got the perseverance of Anderson Cooper, the detachment of Larry King and the “I’ll rip you an new asshole” passion of Nancy Grace, all rolled up into one verbally-adept package.

    Speaking of verbally adept, I do have a question for you. How is it that a “woman” (extremely loosely-speaking, of course), who doesn’t know what pneumonia or ostracize means, understand a term like “priapismed”?

    …oh, wait…nevermind. I just looked it up.

    Double brilliant.

    Comment by bschooled | September 16, 2009 | Reply

    • Thanks B, that’s quite the compliment! But if I had my way, I’d take the hair of Anderson Cooper, the money of Larry King, and the ….the….well I guess I’d have to go for the “I’ll rip you a new asshole” passion (for lack of anything else) of Nancy Grace.

      You bring up a very interesting point with her (apparently in-depth) knowledge of priapism. My only guess is with the God damned socialized medicine they got going over here; there is just a free-for-all for hippy drugstore cowboys. I’m actually shocked that the streets aren’t run amok with communist zombie gypsies all sporting wood that would make Ron Jeremy wince. Now, I’ve gone and frightened myself again. Aghh.

      Thanks B!!!

      Comment by Scott Oglesby | September 16, 2009 | Reply

  5. I want one of those “magic typing boxes.” They sound fun to play with.

    Loving the interview. You should be on NPR.

    Comment by Jay | September 16, 2009 | Reply

    • Thanks Jay, I’m looking into getting one myself! I’d love to be on any radio!

      Comment by Scott Oglesby | September 17, 2009 | Reply

  6. where can I find a priapismed love stick?

    Comment by nursemyra | September 16, 2009 | Reply

    • You can find them all over gypsyland. They give you free pills here!!

      Comment by Scott Oglesby | September 17, 2009 | Reply

  7. See!!!! Everyone missed you…especially me! So did you really have pneumonia? I hope not! You need to come home so I can make you some good American food!!!
    Hugs

    Comment by Vicki | September 17, 2009 | Reply

    • No I wasn’t really sick! I’d love for you to make me some good American food. Or Italian. Or Mexican. Etc etc. I really miss good food. Thanks Vicki!!

      Comment by Scott Oglesby | September 17, 2009 | Reply

  8. I love my “magic typing box.” I wouldn’t trade it for all the Peugots and stab-wounds in the world.

    Kind of a brain-searing read there, Scott. Made the hair on my wig turn completely white, just like the founding fathers. They had their experiences with “gypsy loving” as well, which I can only imagine led to them getting the fuck out of Europe and starting a new country an entire ocean away.

    I’m beginning to side with Lou Dobbs now. Perhaps I’d better go watch some “magic pictures.”

    Great post, Scott. Again, welcome back.

    Comment by Capitalist Lion Tamer | September 18, 2009 | Reply

  9. I’m still concerned for your safety as you traipse among the gypsys. If they figure out your little box takes their picture they may think you’re a wizard or somehting. Please keep returning to the magic typing box. The people who live in here miss you.

    Nice picture btw.

    Comment by Claire Collins | September 19, 2009 | Reply

  10. The envy you mentioned on my blog is incomparable to what I feel about your gypsy neighborhood.
    This other world, over here.

    I am beginning to give in to questions.
    Were you undercover during your absence? Of course you were. I told Vick so.
    Did you run into her or set up to meet her?
    How would you contact her- Do you call her? Or do they accept inbound parakeets with msgs tied in a knot?

    What is wrong with me? I wanna meet her so bad.

    Comment by The Juicer | September 19, 2009 | Reply

  11. This would be really funny if it didn’t remind me of dinner at my parents house.

    Comment by Ramblin' Rooster | September 21, 2009 | Reply

  12. […] If you enjoyed this and want to read Part II, you can do so here. […]

    Pingback by Interview with the Gypsy « Zodi’s Blog | April 3, 2011 | Reply


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