Whooee! Well friends, I ain't been boogin' much lately so I ain't sure how many o' my thousands o' readers are gonna hear this here poem I recorded. I made me another mp3 audio boog an' you can listen to it by clickin' right here.
A Boy Named Steve
Pa Harper sent him off to school at three,
Ivory tower life suited the boy to a tee.
The other kids teased him but in the end he got even.
Now, I don't blame him ‘cause he studied hard
And was smartest ass smartass in the whole schoolyard,
When he finally growed up, he became Prime Minister Stephen.
Well, ol’ Stephen had his own private joke
And he got to look down his nose at lots of folk,
When he went to Ottawa and Calgary he was leavin’.
Folks would giggle at his Stetson and laugh at his vest
When he went back out to his home in the west,
But they never called him “Steve”. It was always "Stephen. "
Well, then one day he went down to the States,
Negotiatin’ passports and tariff rates,
And we all heard somethin’ that was hard for us t’ believe.
The Merkin president – name o’ Bush
Went right on t’ shove, never mind push
Ol’ Dubya dubbed Prime Minister Harper “Steve.”
Well, for Stephen, I tell ya, it was the very last straw
That name o’ “Steve” just stuck in his craw,
He searched his massive brain for a way t’ get even.
There’s a limit to what any lapdog can take,
An’ Dubya just made that there limit break,
When he called the Prime Minister “Steve” instead o’ Stephen.
Harpoon knew that snake was a war criminal
But he’d kept it suppressed, sorta subliminal,
He stayed quiet ‘bout Mahmoudiya, Haditha an’ Abu Ghraib.
But calling him “Steve” made Stephen see red,
For a minute he wished Ol’ Georgie was dead
Then Stephen got even by callin’ ol’ Dubya “Babe.”
"Them’s fightin’ words, Steve,” Ol’ Dubya cried out,
He couldn’t believe the nerve of the lout.
"The only one who calls me ‘Babe’ is Laura.”
"Nobody calls me ‘Steve’,” Harper shot back,
Then he reached over and gave Georgie a smack.
"I’m gonna box your ears from here until tomorra.”
I tell ya, I've seen better fights,
Between gals at the bingo on Saturday nights,
Than this dust up ‘tween Harper an’ President Georgie Boy Bush.
Neither boss ever got their hands dirty before,
’Cause they both sent young kids to fight in their wars,
The Bushman came through in the hullabaloo an’ knocked the PM on his tush.
And he said, "Steve, this world is rough,
And if a man's gonna make it, he's gotta be tough,
An’ if I wanted to, I could send you off to Gitmo for good.
So I’ll keep callin’ you 'Steve' and you better not squeal,
An’ I’m callin’ the shots now whenever we deal,
Whether that deal is on water or oil or even on soft wood."
Then Bush said, "Now we just had us one hell of a scrap,
But I ain’t gonna blow you Canucks off the map.
Now run along home and remember this when you leave.
You can thank me now and kiss my ass,
But if you wanna come back, cross the border you’ll pass,
And the name you got on your passport better say 'Steve.'"
Well, Harper came home with his tail ‘tween his legs.
The Yanks got the dinner, Canucks got the dregs.
Bush also got a Calgary Stampede belt buckle.
Now whenever the president does up his pants,
He thinks of Upper Canada and also New France,
And an egghead named Steve who cracked at his first taste of American knuckle.