ursa minorI’ll write of Martin Semmelrogge
And talk about him in my blog
As he would do, had he the blog
And were I Martin SemmelroggeI tell of Martin Semmelrogge
Who travels with his wife and dog.
They call him Crazy. That’s the dog.
And, maybe, Martin Semmelrogge.Zooming through the Rain and Fog
There goes Martin Semmelrogge
In his car his wife, his dog,
but not me or Gaby.Now in the end I’ll pettifog
I’ve rhymed it „Martin Semmelrogge“
It should be „Martin Semmelrog-ge“
Bogger.„He’s very funny. Our first meeting, over a lunch a few days ago, he explained how to get out of trouble driving fast across America. You need a radar detector, and you have to tell the police that because you are German that you misread the speedometer and thought it was in Kilometers, not Miles, per Hour. Of course, he told me and Gaby-from-Heyne-my-publisher, occasionally the police call each other to say that there’s a man in a red mustang doing 120 mph, or you get shopped by a trucker, and then you spend the night in jail.
He thought Gaby and I should drive back with him from Hamburg to Frankfurt, instead of taking the plane.“
(Damals hatte er natürlich schon keinen Führerschein mehr, war aber noch nicht im Gefängnis)
Sehr schön! Er war übrigens in Gerresheim im Knast. Und die Bude vorm Knast macht um 5.00 Uhr auf. Man sah ihn halt, mit dem Jägermeister!
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Alles wird gut,außer Tiernahrung!