Tuesday, January 12, 2010

Sorry they're limericks, but they're all he deserves

So the news comes that Mark McGwire
On the subject of juice was a liar.
Plus, it's a good bet
That water is wet
And it hurts to grab something on fire

"I'm not here to talk 'bout the past,"
Mark blurted to Congress so fast,
Whatever the pride
He had that day died
To give a defense so half-assed.

To get a job working for Tony,
Mark had to confess his baloney.
He was juiced to the ears
The homer-derby years,
A fame-drunk, preposterous phony.

To get in the Cooperstown Hall,
McGwire will wait for his call
Til Hell freezes over,
The sea swallows Dover,
And Sammy parleys like Bill Engvall.

2 comments:

el duque said...

There once was a Yankee named Maris.
Who hit fastballs halfway to East Paris.
Though he leaped over walls,
He had normal-sized balls!
And his name's clean as Emmylou Harris.

Alibi Ike said...

It's disturbing to see the word "balls" so close to Emmylou Harris, but I should probably overcome such prudery.