Before we get started, I just wanted to take a moment to remind you that, believe it or not, there was a time when Rosie O’Donnell was a very respected comedian.
I mean, she was very funny when she guest-starred in an episode of Curb Your Enthusiasm.
I mention this because Rosie has become so painfully humorless…
How humorless is she?!
Rosie has become so humorless that her reaction to Jeff Bezos getting married was to write a poem about it.
Did you feel a douche chill shoot straight up your spine when you learned this tidbit of info too? That’s what happened to me.
So, as you’re probably aware, Rosie O’Donnell — to her credit — was one of the few celebrities who whined about how they’d leave the country if Trump was re-elected and did it. She decided to set up shop in Ireland (for some reason it took me way longer than I’d care to admit to realize that Rosie O’DONNELL was Irish).
But for some reason, setting foot on the Emerald Isle made her suddenly think she was WB Yeats.
While most of us tuned out the din of the Bezos-Sanchez wedding, it inspired Rosie to pick up her pen (actually, judging by the spelling and punctuation, I think she probably typed it on her phone) and write a poem, which she shared on Substack.
If you like poems that rhyme, look elsewhere (although poetry hardos will tell you it doesn’t have to), but let’s pull out a couple of the best stanzas from Rosie’s poem, “Jeff’s Wedding,” starting with the first two:
It turned my stomach
Seeing all these billionaires
Gathering in the gross excess of it all
The show of it
–
Is Oprah friends with Jeff Bezos
Really – how is that possible
He treats his employees with disdain
By any metric he is not a nice man
Hmm… I think someone might be mad that her invite got lost in the mail.
The part about Oprah reads like some high schooler jotted it down in their journal.
“Oh. My. God. I can’t believe that Oprah is like, legit, friends with Jeff Bezos. He, like, gives me the ick.”
Newsflash, Rosie, billionaires like to hang with other billionaires, especially the ones with giant yachts and rockets.
Im watching the NYC pride march
The gay parade
Here is dublin
This sunny Sunday
–
Wondering if we will have another next year
Or will we be banned
In a fascist america
When being gay is outlawed
I just assumed that this was how Rosie spent her (*Bono Voice*) Sundaaaaaay, sunny Sundaaaaaaaay!
You can’t say that Rosie doesn’t live the woke lifestyle. She’s watching pride parades from across the ocean.
The woman is committed to the bit.
Then, because it’s Rosie, you knew she was going to steer into some nonsense about “fascist america,” and how she’s afraid being gay will be outlawed.
It won’t be, but it currently is in other parts of the world.
Meh, Rosie isn’t worried about those; she’s focused on the Big Beautiful Bill.
This bill will kill people
Period end of sentence
We must stop it
But how
–
Will there even be elections
At the midterms
I doubt it
Their evil plan is working
Wow, alright. These are starting to read less like a poem written on someone’s phone and more like a rambling manifesto scrawled in excrement on the walls of a padded cell.
She’s just straight up detached from reality.
Although if Rosie wants to make a friendly wager on whether there will be midterm elections, I’m down to make that happen.
Finally, take a look at the last few lines, which were — and I am not making this up — followed by a side-by-side photo of Lauren Sanchez purporting to show her before and after cosmetic procedures.
Because that’s how women support women, right? Try to goof on their looks?
Just putting it out there, but you may not want to start playing that game, Rosie.
And its too late baby Now its too late Though we really did
–
Try to make it
–
Something inside has died
And I cant hide
I just cant fake it
Holy hell. Did we just accidentally walk into the worst slam poetry night at the worst hipster coffee shop on the planet?
Man, now that we’ve gotten through that best of (there’s plenty more that I spared you), I think I’m going to go read some dirty limericks just to cleanse my palate.
There once was a man from Nantucket…
