There’s a bitter battle brewing between Rosie O’Donnell and Donald Trump. She says he’s a bankrupt snake-oil peddler. He says she’s a big fat lez. Ladies, ladies. You’re both right.
Barbara Walters is a diabolical supergenius. She hires Rosie O’Donnell for The View, and suddenly lots of youngsters like you and like us are writing and reading about the daily exploits of menopausal biddies on a morning chat show. Rosie’s had quite a month, what with the accusing Kelly Ripa of Aiken homo hate and then doing her best Mickey-Rooney-in-Breakfast at Tiffany’s the other day. And yesterday morning on The View, Rosie tore into our favorite apricot-haired mogul after he allowed Miss USA to keep her crown, despite the fact that she was boozing and coking underage. She said:
ì[Trump] left the first wife ñ had an affair. [He] had kids both times, but heís the moral compass for 20-year-olds in America. Donald, sit and spin, my friend . . . [He's like the] snake-oil salesman on Little House On The Prairie. This is not a self-made man.î
And then Donald was all,
“My fat little Rosie.” We picture him in a witch hat, rubbing his hands together gleefully in his gingerbread home. But then Rosie was totes like,
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Right now we’re siding with Rosie, as she actually brings up valid points, while Donald can only screw his face up to resemble a pained, peach-colored twist cone and repeatedly call her fat and ugly. But when you get down to it, who cares? You know they’ll appear on Letterman in a week with their arms around each other, singing Christmas tunes together, Donald in a snake-oil salesman costume and Rosie donning Vanessa Minnillo’s castoff fat suit.
Ro lets down her guard at MrSkin.com.
