Dominique Strauss Kahn has a quiet dinner with his wife in an Italian restaurant – just like I would with my wife if I were released from jail for a rape charge

What did you mean by "Tu as le cochon!!" my little buttaircup?
What did you mean by “Tu as le cochon!!” my little buttaircup?

So Dominique Strauss Kahn (DSK – sounds like a shoe brand) got out of jail and house arrest yesterday and left the courthouse smiling, his arms around his loving and patient wife, who no doubt has made a deal with the devil to keep her lifestyle.

The woman who accused him of the sexual attack had actually lied about a whole bunch of other stuff. So that made her a “weak” witness, says the mousey weak little New York DA.

I believe though, that this DSK guy DID IT.

I also believe he is connected to more powerful people than I am.

It is been reported that they went out to a quiet Italian restaurant for dinner, and by accounts of witnesses, they were having a pleasant, seemingly romantic time. The restaurant was a little place on the posh upscale Upper East Side of Manhattan. I can see him whispering sweet nothings into her ear like “C’est la vie.”

And her, Mrs DSK, gritting her teeth, but enjoying her lifestyle.

Women stand by their men, when their men are powerful, so I have observed from time to time (Hillary). They also leave from time to time (Arnolds wife Maria).

I wanted to see how it would go with my wife if I told her a tale much like what I have observed about DSK (the old French guy). Perhaps I was powerful enough in her eyes.

Here was my test:

We, like DSK, also went to a quiet little Italian restaurant (after lining up a babysitter for our two kids). Its name was “Davannis”.

While we were waiting for my meatball hoagie and my wifes something or other, I think it was a chicken salad or something, I said:

“You look nice tonite.”

She smiled. “Thank you.” she said.

“You know last week at the hotel when you went down to get breakfast and I stayed in the room?” I asked.

“Yes.” she said.

“Well, while you were down there,” I began, “I raped a housekeeping person.”

“YOU WHAT?” she said (raising her voice just a little).

“I sexually assaulted a housekeeper.”

A stare – and then I noticed she clutched her knife. AND it was real silverware, so it would have penetrated my skin had she attacked. (BTW-high risk move-she is a Scorpio – or at least she used to be – before some dork changed the zodiac dates. Who would do that – and why?).

I paused, but continued the test.

“I threw her down on the floor and brutally attacked her, dislocating her shoulder.”

You know the scenes in the “Werewolf” movies where the guy is starting to transform, and he stares at the camera while slowly growing hair, and his teeth get fangy, and he starts looking mean like a – werewolf?

That’s kind of how she started to look.

Test over.

“I am JOKING.” I said.

“GOD!” she said back.

She didn’t put the knife down, though.

“But if I really did that, would you stay with me?”

She used the knife as an extension of her hand, clutching it with her fist, pointing it at me (blade out) while saying:


“Should I check to see if our order is ready?” I asked.

“AND” she said, the knife quivering from seemingly, her anger, “THAT WAS NOT FUNNY!”

“Exactly my point.” I agreed. “But that French guy who did it, he walked out of jail and got away with that very thing.”

“That’s because he is rich and powerful. He doesn’t pay a lot in taxes. And he gets free parking wherever he goes. Oh, and to answer your question – NO I WOULDNT STAY WITH YOU!”

“Well, I won’t do it, so no worries.”


“Yeah, that’s clear.” I say. “Because the rich get richer. I’d like to be a member of the rich club. Then we could be FREE of all the rules that apply to the rest of us prawns.”

“You mean pawns.” she said.

“What did I say?” I asked.

“You said prawns.” she said.


People in other booths turned around to look at what was going on.

She put the knife down, finally, and looked me right in the eyes.

“Freedoms just another word…for nothing left to lose.”

That’s what she said.

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