Digging through my archives trying to find my old videotape collection Lotus 123 spreadsheet. Found this old poem I wrote the night before the first OJ trial ended. Oddly enough this poem has been edited and mangled over the years even though I only posted it in the usenet newsgroups in May 1995. It’s also possible someone read it during a news story on OJ, but of course, no credit for me. Oh well.
DID YOU DO THIS AWFUL CRIME?
DID YOU DO IT ANYTIME?
I did not do this awful crime.
I could not, would not, anytime.
DID YOU TAKE THIS PERSON’S LIFE?
DID YOU DO IT WITH A KNIFE?
I did not do it with a knife.
I did not, could not, kill my wife.
I did not do this awful crime.
I could not, would not, anytime.
DID YOU LEAVE A POOL A BLOOD?
DID YOU DROP THIS BLOODY GLOVE?
I did not leave a pool of blood.
I cannot wear that tiny glove.
I did not do this awful crime.
I could not, would not, anytime.
WOULD YOU LIKE TO TAKE THE STAND?
WILL THIS NEW GLOVE FIT YOUR HAND?
I do not want to take the stand.
I plead the 5th because I can.
This glove could fit on any hand.
I was framed by Fuhrman, he’s your man.
I did not do this awful crime.
I could not, would not, anytime.
WHERE WERE YOU AT 10:22?
WAS YOUR BRONCO PARKED ASKEW?
I was chipping golfballs if you please.
No, wait, I forgot, my bad knees.
I was taking a nap, yeah that’s right.
I could not parallel park that night!
I did not do this awful crime.
I could not, would not, anytime.
WHO WILL VOUCH FOR YOUR BUTT?
HOW DID YOU RECEIVE THIS CUT?
Kato saw me on that day.
He could not, would not, lie for pay.
Three knocks he heard upon the wall
My A/C repair man I must call.
As for how this cut was made,
My car phone slit me like a blade.
Or was it the glass that I had thrown
When my wife’s death to me was made known?
Look… I did not do this awful crime.
I could not, would not, anytime.
I would not do it at the gate,
I would not do it filled with hate.
Who did this crime? I do not know.
That slow-speed chase was just for show.
I freaked, that’s true, what can I say?
A.C. said, “Juice, just run away.”
Instead I chose to go to trial,
8 mL of blood was in that vial.
I did not do this awful crime,
I could not, would not, anytime.
Got a nice little hangover from last night. Excedrine fixes everything, however. To make this even more complete, here are some opening lines I wrote July 26, 1995 for the Late Show with David Letterman. I was just practicing my comedy writing ability, not much more than that. This is the part where the announcer changes up the intro about the show coming from New York. I figure this is timely since I will be up there again next weekend to hopefully hang out with Oktober and Queen Beth. Here goes in no particular order:
From New York….
The city that could solve the deficit by charging exit fees,
The city that even a mother could love,
The city where even Newt Gingrich could lose his virginity,
The home of the best cow tongue sandwhiches you’ve ever tasted,
The city that Bill Clinton plans to turn into the world’s largest prison,
The city where a Coke and a Smile could earn you 2 to 5,
The city that ran out of toilet paper and didn’t notice,
The city where the rats can pick open a car door inside 10 seconds,
The city where if at first you don’t succeed there’s always Madonna’s place.
I know. Jabs at Madonna are uncool. She rules, but I believe at the time she was in that low spot where everyone was dogging her. Apologies to Madonna — I think you’re great. Call me.
