Acromegaly Antisemite Roger Waters dined on roasted Jewish Baby

Ah, to be in the Hamptons in the summer!

Rupert Merde Ox's NY Post has a gossip page with "sightings" of famous Fascists, Nazis and Sociopaths. Naturally, they keep track of what Roger Waters is up to.

I sent Cilla Blackledge to get more details. Cilla recently severed ties with the staff of the Grimsby Telegraph (aside from severing their ties, she threw their hats down the loo and circumcised each one of them with a broken Guinness bottle).

Cilla files this report:

Acromegaly sufferer Roger Waters told me he has a special diet because of the size of his chin: "I can only eat soft foods. That's why I like roasted Jewish babies. If you stuff them with pork and put them on a spit for an hour, basted regularly in blood, they turn out so tender you can pull the bits of flesh apart with your bare hands."

Roger adds, "Of course, I am NOT antisemitic. First off, my nose is getting so gigantic I'm sometimes mistaken for Mel Brooks. He's a Jew, you know. Second, I'd be glad to eat some other ethnic baby, but since the Jews like to drink the blood of Christian babies, which is well known, I figure I'm simply evening the score.

"It is also well known that the Jews do not deserve a homeland of any kind. After they were driven out of Israel over 2,000 years ago, they were quickly butchered, abused, raped and robbed in Russia, Poland, Germany, and on and on. That's the way it should be. Did you ever read about The Muslim Crusades? Love that non-violent religious group. Fine, fine people. How they took over Jerusalem. Oh, they also killed Christians from time to time, but their God is Great!

"It's ridiculous Jews have returned to Israel, when everyone knows that the prophet Muhammad in about 600 AD, decreed it belongs to Palestinians. Didn't he? How I'd love to get some cannons and blow out the Wailing Wall. Well, Allah knows best in these matters. If you don't believe me, ask Peter Gabriel, he has a degree in Political Science, and a PhD in Religious Studies. He also has a wonderfully round head that looks just like a honeydew melon.

Roger burps and sighs, "I love the Hamptons. It isn't very Jewish at all. We've got P. Diddy buying up most of the real estate. We've got crazy Gwyneth Paltrow, Paris Hilton, Brooke Shields, Jennifer Lopez, psychotic black newsman Don Lemon, black (of course) basketball star Jason Williams, Jay-Z and Beyonce (and you know they'd rather have Black Panthers for neighbors), Candace Bushnell and John McEnroe. Oh yes, we do have to put up with Howard Stern and Steven Spielberg, and there are rumors Billy Joel is half-Jewish, but mostly, it's very WASP-y. Jeez, don't I look like a hornet? Look at this schnozz! Oh, sorry, is schnozz a Yiddish word? I hope not."

Roger knows that The Hamptons are now noted for rowdy loud parties, vulgar gigantic motor boats spewing pollution along the shoreline, and..."expensive restaurants and rents that cheap Jews couldn't deal with. It's against their religion. Eww, did I mention Long Island home owner Paul McCartney married a Jew? He did it once before, too. Why couldn't he find a nice, classy Christian girl again, like Heather? But I digress. Excuse me. I also fart. Ooops.

"The restaurants here always cook any custom dish I want. When I walk in they snap their heels, give me a 'Heil Roger,' and ask me how I want my Jewish baby...broiled, baked or spit-roasted. I like 'em whole, so I can enjoy how the eyes blister and turn white. I like barbecued dead Jewish baby, too, because it has that smokey, "crematorium" smell."

(Editors note: as this is NOT the Grimsby Telegraph, "crematorium" has not been censored. It's censored at the Telegraph because every time they read it, the staff necrophiles start masturbating furiously. Wasting time masturbating means they can't go out scooping up dog shit on Freeman Street. They collect the dog shit which they dump into a blender and make into a puree. They smear the stuff on their chips. They use it instead of ketchup. It's a trick they learned from the bad restaurants they praise with star reviews).

Turning to the future, I asked Roger what exciting new projects he's working on. He said, "I'm thinking, now this is just a preliminary thought, mind you, of re-issuing "The Wall." I am also considering going on tour in rabidly antisemitic countries with my pig balloon and my neo-Nazi uniform, and lip-syncing all the songs. After all, I'm not a billionaire yet, and I can't finance the destruction of Israel myself, yet. Hell, I hardly know any members of ISIS, although everybody in Hamas is a member of my fan club."

Some have criticised the "pig balloon" for its vile symbolism, but Roger tut-tuts the notion. "Tut tut," he said. He added, "What animal symbol should I drag around instead?" And I pointed to one of the iconic ones on Long Island.

It's "The Big Duck," a harmless, adorable structure-building that tourists love to visit when they put a mortgage down, get a loan, and venture to pay for a weekend in The Hamptons.

"Instead of a pig, you want me to use a...what?" asked Roger.

"Duck!" I said.

Roger instantly hit the ground, drew his luger and said, "Somebody from Mossad? Call the waiter and tell him to get me a cyanide pill. If it was good enough for Hermann Göring..." And so, I left Roger under the table, gun in one hand, leg of roasted Jewish baby in the other. "Wow, this dead baby arm is hard as a rock," he said, the gun in his mouth. If only he pulled the trigger.