Stretch Armstrong

The background story...

 

My friend David Scurr, now deceased, was doing a late night radio show. He was obsessed at the time with the popular "Stretch Armstrong" action figure, and intrigued by the recent recall of some talking Barbies. It seems that a major backlash ensued because the Barbies squeaked out the phrase, "Math is Tough". Personally, I am with Barbie for that one, never thought I'd agree with her, but I digress...

 

He asked me to write a poem that incorporated both elements. I did, and so I give you...

 

Stretch Armstrong

 

It was a-typical Saturday, bout quarter to one,

I ate at McDonalds and when I was done

I fed my pet rock, pushed aside Rubik's cube,

kicked off my Keds, and turned on the tube.

 

Between the cartoons, I managed to find

the perfect companion; the flexible kind

of man that I kneaded and he went for a song.

Stretch was his first name, last one, Armstrong.

 

The price I had paid for my fatal attraction

was under ten bucks for my figure of action.

I became a Madonna to a willing boy toy

with no need to be charming, dis-arming or coy!

 

Willing and able to fill all my kneads,

in the palm of my hand, that man indeed

took manipulation well. There was no cause to beg,

to twist his right arm, bend his ear, pull his leg.

 

He stopped listening one day to all my demands

so I bit off his head, buried it in the sand

went back to normal, played Barbie and then,

cleaned up, redressed and married a Ken.

 

His trademark impressed me, what can I say?

I'm shallow, a yuppie, I am to this day

obsessed with the toys, but life ain't so ruff

At least men are easy even though Math is Tuff!

 

Quasimodem

 

Have you ever had someone who believed in you so much, and left you...

believing?

 

(photo by torontofotobug)

Done