George Edward Foreman
was a man who had a plan
he was a great boxer who gave us thrills
and Big George managed to sell thousands of grills
George Foreman is a friend of mine,
Of many times we chill.
Times together that we dine,
But not the man that you assign,
For George, he is a grill.
Of grills, he is the number one,
Which helps make meals a-gorge.
Or for a little bit more fun,
You can get the 5 in 1,
Of my friend, we call the George.
A waffle or a steak,
A burger or a weiner,
Sure there’s no mistake,
Whatever is you make,
It makes a little leaner.
For as it starts to cook,
The grease comes rolling down.
It forms a little brook,
The trap, it gives a look,
A pond of greasy brown.
Surely one can never doubt,
The bond that we did forge,
A partnership of greatest clout,
Winning meals at every bout,
Just me and my friend George.
Can you?
Yes!
Would you?
Yes!
Do you?
YES!
My fail-safe method to
Get out of jury duty
Let's foray, let's foray
Let's foresee the success of our nation.
To becoming foremost
The foreman is on the roll
Let's pray to our forefather and foregather
The army is foregoing
Let's forefront the other
And forget rivalry
Let's foray and foregather
To give a foregone conclusion.
By Manthra
he's an ogre in the vicinity,
switching the weight of his obesity
from one plump, dimpled leg to the other,
his teeth wag a toothpick like a dagger
and sees to it that you deserve defeat,
his beady eyes say so with smug conceit;
he glimpses sideways, standing akimbo,
at reflections on the thick, glass window,
closely watching himself closely watching
everyone's every move, yes, everything,
even now...as we shovel back dark earth
into the hole in the ground of his birth !