You Too Can Be Jesse Jackson: But You Don't Want to be LT

Say the following rhymes in your best prosecutorial Jesse Jackson voice:

Last week LT copped a plea
for rape in the 3rd degree
based on a young girl’s I. D.
he didn’t see.

This was no sack,
no hack press attack,
no helpless quarterback,
not caught smoking crack,
or even falling off the right track,
it was LT’s judgment lack,
that was truly whack.
Sex, with a young girl, whosw eye was already black?
You should’ve hit the road jack
and spared Giant Nation
this sad humiliation
and then made an anonymous phone call to the local police station.

You used to dominate the field
Chase quarterbacks with zeal
Tackles tried to block you like they were on banana peels.
You were the defensive ideal.
What you did was surreal.
But you didn’t feel
the slip of the wheel
that was causing your life to take a turn.
Just when you were starting to earn,
after years of concern,
that by playing with fire, you were bound to get burned.
There you were, cuffed, looking concerned,
hoping to be adjourned,
waiting for a court date return.

How did things get so far?
Dancing with the stars,
a golf trip trying to make par,
smoking cigars
in a hotel bar,
waiting for a kidnap victim brought by car?
That’s one helluva of a fall, by far.

Fuzzy Wuzzy wuz a bear.
He thought LT was so good that it was unfair.
Taylor made offenses swear with flair.
He caused teams to play with tight ends in pairs.
After collecting hundreds of quarterback hides
great left tackles got rich for protecting their blind sides.
LT gave Giant fans, like Fuzzy, a wild ride.
Fuzzy wore his Giants jersey with pride.
Last week Fuzzy took off his #56 jersey and cried.
Fuzzy, keep hope alive

You are living the dream!


You Too Can Be Jesse Jackson: The Imus Ranch

Many people looked askance
when Don and Deirdre took a stance
and decided to finance,
and build the Imus Ranch.
A place designed to advance,
enhance,
and give kids with cancer a normal childhood chance.

They teach kids cattle roping,
while they are cancer coping,
causing smiles, and ending moping. T
hat leaves us all hoping
that this latest fundraising drive
will help the ranch thrive,
continue to survive,
if you donated give yourself a high five,
as Don and Deirdre strive,  
to keep many more children’s hopes alive.

You Too Can Be Jesse Jackson: The Oil Spill Disaster

People love the ocean
So every Summer they get a notion,
pack their cars with devotion,
oops almost forgot the sun tan lotion,
load the kids with lots of commotion,
check the internet for promotions,
and drive for hours, bumper to bumper, in slow-motion
That’ll really try your emotions

You arrive at the coast
your vacation is toast
because of some oil line breach.
Damn, ain’t that a beach.

Goldman’s Lloyd Blankfein
can relax his mind,
because come dinner time,
BP’s CEO will be the world’s most maligned,
threat to mankind.

Tony Hayward, BP’s big bitch
could’ve prevented an eco-disaster with a simple kill switch.
That’s really sleazy
Turning New Orleans, The Big Easy
into the Big Greasy.

 
Fuzzy Wuzzy wuz a bear.
He like to fish in the Delta from his folding chair.
He grabbed his trusty old pole,
and headed to his favorite hole,
but what he saw hurt his soul.
A tear in his eye, oil up to his wader pants thigh,
Fuzzy screamed die BP, Die!
Fuzzy went insane.
He grabbed his rifle, and bullets; over 600 grains.
And Fuzzy began to train.
With 50 caliber thunder, Fuzzy was about to bring the rain.
While thinking of his wildlife friends,
wearing cammo so he could blend,
Fuzzy checked the wind and adjusted his scope.
For those responsible, time to abandon hope.
If you see flash from the bushes
it’s time to make your last wishes.
Because when you get oil on a Fuzzy Bear’s tail
you’ll have a Hell Hound on your trail. 

The environment thanks you!

You Too Can Be Jesse Jackson: Immigration Rights

Jesse doesn’t like Arizona’s new immigration policy. It’s time for action. Say the following rhymes in your most indignant, civil rights activist, Jesse voice.

Jesse on Arizona’s Immigration Law

Arizona has picked a new fight.
They want to question those who are non-white,
and violate their civil rights.
Immigration policy? Not quite.
There’s no way to ask for papers that would seem polite,
that wouldn’t invite,
incite,
or ignite
some sort of fight.
Simply put, it’s blight,
it’s a slight,
one only hopes their Governor will see the light.

Looking at people and guessing whether they have papers
seems like some sort of movie caper
conceived by someone inhaling crack pipe vapors.

Perhaps Mexicans should make it known,
or insist that in the schools it should be shown,
that when the deer and the antelopes roamed
Mexicans and Natives called Arizona home
while living in a desert dry as a bone
Waaay before there was a Tombstone.

Before there was a Flagstaff
Latinos had more than half.

Spanish was spoken on Winslow’s famous corner
and before spas in Sedona, natives were sweating in earthen saunas.
Don’t believe me? Ask Warner.
He was there.

This policy event
is designed to prevent,
torment,
those with accents,
who do the jobs we lament,
to provide things on which our money is spent.

That’s good.
I’ll give myself a high five.
Keep hope alive.

Fuzzy Wuzzy wuz a bear.
Arizona’s policy isn’t fair.
Demanding papers is designed to scare
those who really don’t belong there.

Police will find a way to detain and delay
much to brown folks dismay
fine folks born here in the USA.
The problem with the law is that it’s not black and white, but mostly gray.
If you thought November’s elections meant a brand new day

I wrote these lines
in the form of rhymes
to show we’re going backwards in time.

You did it. You kept hope alive.

Charles Rangel on Nukes

Some people are giving the president a hard time about his nuclear weapons policies. People like Sarah Palin. Hell, She can’t even pronounce nuclear. She says nuke-you-lar. She thinks the cold war was a Smackdown between Nyquil and Robitussin.

I was at a benefit at the American Museum of Natural History. They have a brontosaurus in there; a huge creature with a small brain. I thought to myself, he must sit here everyday and wonder why he’s extinct and she’s still roaming the Earth. That high pitched, dentist drill-like whine you hear is Darwin spinning in his grave.

Statements about Obama’s nuclear policies are designed to scare people and make them sleep with their night lights on like little bitches. Don’t get me wrong, Charlie Rangel sleeps with a night light. But its not because I’m afraid of the dark; its because the dark…is afraid of Charlie Rangel.

Listen up haters: The U.S and Russia have enough nukes combined to kill everybody in the world 40 times over. Unless you’re Don Imus or you were born in a manger, that’s more than enough. If you reduced nukes by a third you’d kill everybody 27 times over.

Having all of these nukes is a lot like having a 40-inch Johnson. It’s impressive to look at, it’s a great conversation starter, but the truth is, you’re never gonna use it. If you did, you’d black out from the blood rushing from your head. So whether it’s the nuclear triad or Rex the human tripod, too much is too much.