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  1. A Corrido for Chi Chi

    Monday, September 17, 2012


    El Corrido de Juan Antonio Rodriguez


    Sientese mijo porque le voy a cantar de una leyenda,

    Nació en la sierra,
    No tuvo padres le dio vida la tierra.
    Pero eventualmente dios del césped se hizo,
    Jugaba su deporte como un niño, y por eso su cara nunca tendrá liso.

    Cuando fue joven conquisto los corazones,
    de todo los fanáticos los viejos y los jóvenes.

    Con un palo en su mano,
    Treinta a ganado,
    Escuche porque lo que digo es verdad hermano.
    Le llamaron el Chi Chi,
    El mas chingon el pinché.

    No es traficante pero tiene el respecto del Barbie y del Chapo,
    Con conquisto los corazones de todo los gabachos.
    De Augusta a Santo Andrés hizo amigo,
    Los americanos e ingleses fueron testigos.
    Mayores nunca a ganado pero casi tres veces,
    El dios del sacate o si preferiré el césped…


    -Oiga papa y porque un corrido?
    Y porque no pequeño?
    -Chi Chi no es Mexicano es Puertorriqueño
    Ah que jodido!

    ...

    The Ballad of Juan Antonio Rodriguez

    Sit down my son because I'm going to sing to you about a legend,

    A child born in the mountains,
    He didn't have parents, his life sprang from the dirt fountains.
    Eventually the God of the Lawn is what he would become,
    He played golf like a child, his face without wrinkles, and always stayed young.

    He conquered the hearts of fans, the young and the old,
    With a stick in his hand, is what he would hold.
    Thirty titles he won,
    Listen to me, there is truth in this song.


    They called him Chi Chi,
    The baddest man we see!

    He wasn't a drug dealer but had respect from The Barbie and El Chapo,
    He conquered the hearts of the others, the white folk, the gringo.
    From Augusta to St. Andrews he made all his friends,
    The Americans and English were all witnesses.
    Majors he never got, but almost three he won,
    The god of the grass, or if you prefer, the lawn.


    -Hey dad, why a corrido?
    Why not, my son?
    -Chi Chi isn't Mexican, he's Puerto Rican!
    Ahh...shit!

    (Special thanks to guest writer, Federico García Loco)

  2. Reaganomics

    Friday, September 14, 2012



    After a hard night's rain, the early autumn chill has settled over this corner of Appalachia, and the old barn with all of its many holes and cracks, is providing little resistance to the elements.  The boys are already hard at work, patching up the #51 car. Its in rough shape, for sure, but crew chief and stock car sage Harry Hogge is confident in his team. With the Winston Cup race heating up, he knows they are a long shot. But he's been working on stock cars for damn near thirty-five years, and he's got a trick up his sleeve this time. A new driver, fresh from California, is going to drive this fifty-one car to a championship. Or at least that's what this old country boy thinks. As the crew tinkers with some body work the barn door creaks as the chosen one, the hot shit, the new driver Cole Trickle comes inside the damp room.

    "How we looking guys?" He says to the crew.

    "Well," Hogge starts while wiping his greasy forehead with a rag, "She's coming along. Still needs a few things on the engine, but we'll get her hummin'."

    Trickle walks around the car, running his index finger along the smooth, unpainted body.

    "Not bad, not bad," he muses. "Still need to get my special move on it though."

    "Your special what?" Hogge snidely chuckles, clearly annoyed by this suggestion.

    Trickle, not budging, states his case. "My move. All the greats have one. Gotta have my move."

    "Cole, you stupid sonofabitch. It 'aint like that anymore. This is NASCAR, there are rules. This 'aint that rodeo racing shit you've been doin'." Hogge, losing patience, bends down to return to work on the car.

    "Harry," Cole says confidently, "Its perfect. I was playing Nintendo last night and those damn oil slicks kept messing me up. So I need you to install an oil drip, make it look like a leak, but I can control it from the dash."

    Laughter erupts in the room. Hogge stands and walks over to stand nose to nose with Trickle.

    "Yeah, Cole," he says dismissively. "Whatcha gonna call this brilliant move?"

    Trickle doesn't move an inch, and stares into Hogge's eyes.

    "The Trickle Down Effect," he says coldly. 



  3. Ditka Remix

    Monday, September 10, 2012



    Super Bowl Shuffle Remix (ft. Mike Ditka)

    Walter Payton

    Sweetness the name, so don't forget,
    Linebackers see me and they start to sweat.
    I keep them guessing, I keep them scared,
    When Sweetness totes the rock you best beware.
    I juke to the left, I juke to the right,
    Got cornerbacks staying up at night.
    I can do it all, the best back there is,
    Sweetness is the greatest in this business. 
    We didn't come here to look for trouble,
    We just came here to do The Super Bowl Shuffle.


    Jim McMahon

    I'm a rebel, I don't take no junk,
    A stud QB and I aint no punk.
    You know my name, call me Jimmy Mac,
    I'm too fast for those Pats to sack.
    Tossing TD's is my claim to fame,
    The coolest quarterback, in the game.
    I do it with style, I do it with ease,
    I make big plays because I aim to please.
    That's why you all got here on the double,
    To catch me doin' the Super Bowl Shuffle. 


    Refrigerator Perry

    The Fridge is coming, so run and hide,
    Take the women and children and go inside.
    The biggest baddest man in the whole damn league,
    Take a hit from the Fridge and your head will bleed.
    Pancake your offense, bulldoze the line,
    When I see the QB I know he's mine.
    And don't forget, the ground and pound,
    Give Fridge the ball close and its a touchdown.
    I don't come here lookin' for trouble,
    I just came here to do The Super Bowl Shuffle.


    Mike Ditka

    I'm the leader, the coach of this team,
    They say I'm tough, they say I'm mean.
    Check out my sweaters, how cool they are,
    See me on the sidelines, with a cigar.
    My mustache keeps the ladies, by my side,
    They see my coach shorts and they want a ride.
    Ditka is the name, and now you know,
    Beat the Pats easy, god they blow.
    I keep beer and condoms, in my duffel,
    But we just came here to do The Super Bowl Shuffle.

     






  4. Land of Boz

    Wednesday, September 5, 2012



    We're off to see the Wizard,
    The wonderful Wizard of Boz!
    We hear he is, a whiz of a wiz,
    If ever a wiz there was!

    Another sack from the wizard,
    The wonderful Wizard of Boz!
    Forced fumbles his biz, just for the kids,
    And he does it just because!

    No tackle can block the Wizard,
    The wonderful Wizard of Boz!
    The guards they try, they pull they pry,
    He leaves them grasping at straws!

    He's so big and strong, the Wizard,
    The wonderful Wizard of Boz!
    So maybe he used, a steroid or two,
    And maybe he broke some laws!

    He will always be the Wizard,
    The wonderful Wizard of Boz!
    They can't take that away, oh those things that they say,
    He's still the best there was!

    If ever, oh ever, a Wiz there was,
    The Wizard of Boz is one because,
    Because, because, because, because, because,
    Because of the wonderful things he does!
    We're off to see the Wizard
    The wonderful Wizard of Boz!