Bonds Has Bigger Boobs Than Paula Abdul
BAROID'S COMEDIC GENIUS TAKES A HIT
It was a sad spectacle down in the desert Tuesday. Like a frail Bob Hope or a brittle George Burns, the comedy talents of Barry Bonds have, like his once-formidable power stroke, diminished to this--drag.
Barry, did you really need to stoop to this level for a laugh. Sure, Milton Berle milked the drag routine in his prime years, but he knew when to put the pumps on the shelf.
The Barry that I remembered cracked up reporters with a wry and taut comedy routine reminiscent of the greats like Jack Benny, Red Foxx and even Red Skelton.
Why couldn't Barry leave us with the memory of some of his great bits.
I especially like the ironic aspects of him running around the bases after hitting a homerun and pointing to the heavens. You know, as if God gave him those muscles and not a syringe.
Hilarious!
And then there's the Jerry Lewis-type comedy that he was known for in the 1980s. You know, the skinny little centerfielder running around Three Rivers Stadium. Oh, just like Lewis, his comedy was so honest, unlike the angry Lewis and Bonds that we have today.
I guess, all things must come to an end. There will always be another comedic genius to replace this one. Terrell Owens seems like the logical heir, but who knows?
Also, here's a comedy tip for Barry: When your cleavage is equal to or greater than Aretha Franklin's either hire new writers or get a room for yourself.
It was a sad spectacle down in the desert Tuesday. Like a frail Bob Hope or a brittle George Burns, the comedy talents of Barry Bonds have, like his once-formidable power stroke, diminished to this--drag.
Barry, did you really need to stoop to this level for a laugh. Sure, Milton Berle milked the drag routine in his prime years, but he knew when to put the pumps on the shelf.
The Barry that I remembered cracked up reporters with a wry and taut comedy routine reminiscent of the greats like Jack Benny, Red Foxx and even Red Skelton.
Why couldn't Barry leave us with the memory of some of his great bits.
I especially like the ironic aspects of him running around the bases after hitting a homerun and pointing to the heavens. You know, as if God gave him those muscles and not a syringe.
Hilarious!
And then there's the Jerry Lewis-type comedy that he was known for in the 1980s. You know, the skinny little centerfielder running around Three Rivers Stadium. Oh, just like Lewis, his comedy was so honest, unlike the angry Lewis and Bonds that we have today.
I guess, all things must come to an end. There will always be another comedic genius to replace this one. Terrell Owens seems like the logical heir, but who knows?
Also, here's a comedy tip for Barry: When your cleavage is equal to or greater than Aretha Franklin's either hire new writers or get a room for yourself.
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Anonymous |
Wednesday, April 25, 2007 1:15:00 PM