Rod Blagojevich: Unbelievable Asshole - A Poem

I swear to be a douchebag, and nothing but a douchebag. So help me Zeus.

Whaddya mean? Senate seat's not for sale?
What's all the hubbub? Am I going to jail?
My phone line was tapped? Why, you FBI shit.
Would you mind loosening these handcuffs a bit?

And so, my dear Rod, may I call you Blago?
Your IQ is the same as Rocky IV's Ivan Drago.
Nothing rhymes with Blagojevich, so I will not try.
During ethics class in Governor's school, you were out back getting high.

We won't soon forget the last Illinois Gov.
Fraud and corruption, no legislation of love.
He's in jail now, and you may hear him cryin'.
A douchebag like you, his name is George Ryan.

But you've taken the cake, Rod, with skill and aplomb.
Your gall is astounding. Your words leave me numb.
You allegedly asked for 500 grand.
A powerful seat for a powerful man.

Or maybe some schmuck with plenty of money.
Whose offer's so sweet, it's dripping with honey.
For you and your friends, the holidays would be merry.
If you offered the seat to Refrigerator Perry.

He probably would govern much better than you.
With a 68 waist, and size 22 shoe.
He'd rumble and roll on both sides of the aisle.
He'd do it with grace, and he'd do it with style.

The Fridge, as he's known by all of his fans,
Would sponsor a bill as thick as his hands.
This bill would require that all kids learn to play ball.
And outside Senate chambers, vending machines line the hall.

But now that Senate seat's up in the air.
The Fridge will not get it. The Fridge will not care.
But the rest of the country is glued to the news.
A scandal this big's as addictive as booze.

May your trial be quick, and the judgment decisive.
And may Obama's replacement be not so divisive.
If it weren't for you, the blogs would be quiet.
We'd have nothing to do but pillage and riot.

The next junior senator from Illinois? Maybe if Blago had his way.

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