Every once in a while, if I've been a very good RoveHo, and done an especially thorough job on my chores (i.e. Febreezed up anywhere the marmot had an accident, exceeded my weekly jerky-curing quota, remembered to clear room on the TiVo so all of Rovey's Franchot Tone film fest gets recorded, etc.) Rovey removes the blocks from a few select channels (I'm usually allowed only FOX affiliates, Disney, Cinemax and all the Clear Channel I can handle. Rovey doesn't want me getting any funny notions from Farrah Fawcett made-for-tv smut on Lifetime.) and I catch a couple of minutes of the Mrs. Oprah show. She is wise and large and chocolatey dark and magically in touch with her spirit - and mine as well, and I was inspired to follow my inner goddess dolphin poet and pen the following little ditty. Rovey says it sounds kind of familiar, but since they've stopped running poems in NewsMax (there really are only so many rhymes for "impeach" and "knee-pads"), I can't imagine where he would have seen it. Anyhow - here goes!
Rovey Rovey, trousers tight
Pol by day and stud by night
What annoying POTUS guy
Could wrest him from his RoveHo's thigh?
Bush says to him "Please come advise!"
And from tone, one could surmise
That there be matters dark and dire -
Troubling polls? Iraq quagmire?
Rather it's "Hey look, I'm smart!
Pull my finger - see me fart!"
Then he'll feign as to excrete,
While Rovey sighs and taps his feet.
"Sir, may we discuss campaign?
You brought me in to be your brain!"
But that's beyond his boss' grasp,
Synapses die or gently gasp.
So when Rovey's dried his tears
Spun things for electioneers
Does he smile his work to see?
Grab camera time, or take a pee?
No - Rovey Rovey, trousers tight
Pol by day and stud by night
Ducks away - eschews "goodbye!"
And hastens home to munch some pie.