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You're not going to believe who has had a bleach job, Whose hair is the color of corn on the cob. "Condi" sounds iffy? "Goldie" sounds nice? Anyhow she's converted and is now Goldie Rice. Well one day she was jogging without you know who On a path she'd not been on as far as she knew When she stumbled upon a Dick Cheney lair, A hole in the ground big enough for a bear, A location she figured was still undisclosed With a sign that said "Enron, we're now indisposed." Would our Goldie barge in? Would she do something rash? Would she happen upon his quid pro quo cache? Or a table with placecards for at least thirty-four Polluting executives and perhaps even more? Unfortunately not; there was just room for three: Papa, and Mama, and Wee Baby Bushie. Unfortunately not; or she could have bared all And replaced Papa Bear on the ticket this Fall. Bob Carlson |