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Everyone needs to believe in something. I believe I'll have another beer.
Today we salute you Mr. Bowling Shoe Giver Outer
Your tireless efforts keep our feet comfy and sanitized with mountain freshness
Instinctively you match left shoe with right
(left right left right)
Carefully placing each pair in it's own tiny shoe house
(check the number on the back)
One wrong move
And we're on the fast train to Blisterville
Is he a 9 and a half, or a 10?
Cause you're Mr. Bowling Shoe Giver Outer
(we couldn't bowl without you)
So crack open an ice cold Bud Light, Mister.
And know it's no accident that those shoes are red, white, and blue.
Today we salute you Mr. Basketball Shoe Designer.
Every year you make staggering advances in technology
Slightly less air.
And a separate air chamber for maximum air
(she's gonna blow)
Good ball-handling skills.
A killer outside shot.
All completely useless unless we're wearing your sneakers
(I got a two inch vertical)
They're designed to last for a decade
Which is just about the time we'll have them paid off
(I'm livin' in my van)
So crack open an ice cold Bud Light, oh Sultan of The Sneaker
We may never make a lay-up
But your shoes will always be a slam dunk.
Today we salute you Mr. Enormous SUV Driver.
Your mammoth machine strikes the perfect balance between the towing capacity of a tractor trailer
And the sleek styling.. of a tractor trailer
(keep on truckin')
Lesser men might say a 26-cylinder engine is overkill
They'll have to tow a cruise ship at the dry dock
And that's when they'll come crying to you
(I got the towing package)
You've got a tough choice to make
Fill up the tank
Or relieve the national debt
(fill 'er uppp)
So truck on home and grab a Bud Light, Enormous SUV Guy
If you're going to compensate for something small
Go really REALLY big.
Today we salute you Mr. Centerfold Retoucher
Your incredible talent takes gorgeous women
And somehow makes them... gorgeouser
(a mucho gorgeoso)
Breasts - bigger.
Moles - smaller.
Mustaches - gone.
(you're a staaaar)
Thanks to you, hot wax is a thing of the past
And working out, is for suckers
Any artist can say their work is in a gallery
But how many can say their work is stuffed under mattresses around the world
(you're gonna go blind)
So crack open an ice cold Bud Light, oh Da Vinci of the Derriere
Because thanks to you
We can enjoy real beauty the way we like it
Today we salute you Mr. Giant Foam Finger Maker.
Our teams would be in 6th or 7th place
And feel as if they were in 6th or 7th place
(can you feel it?)
Carefully you craft uncanny representations of actual human hands
So that we may wave them annoyingly in the faces of our rivals
(in your faaace)
They're enormous, yes.
Yet one size fits all. Brilliant.
(raise 'em to the sky nowww)
So crack open an ice cold Bud Light, Mr. Foam Finger Maker
And know we speak for sports fans everywhere when we say:
You're number one.
2 Ping Pong Balls
1 Wild Night
Today we salute you Mr. All You Can Eat Buffet Inventor
You've given us the real American dream:
15 feet of food.
And a little sign that says: Go Nuts Buddy
(pinch me I'm dreamin')
Pushing side dish innovation to its limits
You offer creamed everything
And 400 flavors of gelatin
If there's beef, you'll chip it
If there's chicken, you'll fry it
And if there's gravy
Well then everything's going to be okay.
(thank God for the gravy)
So crack open an ice cold Bud Light, Buffet Boy
You know the way to a man's heart
And a few hundred tasty ways to challenge it.
Today we salute you Mr. Artificial Tree Maker.
Nothing brings out the holiday spirit quite like a giant steel pole with nine feet of green pipe cleaners attached to it.
(looks so natural)
Your wonderful tree is available in all the glorious colors nature has to offer:
And blazing hot pink.
Thanks to you
We are no longer forced to venture out into the cold, damp steel pole forest
To chop down our own fake tree
So crack open an ice cold Bud Light, oh Purveyor of the Pine
Your trees may lean wildly to the left But your heart is always in the right place.
Today we salute you Mr. Garden Gnome Maker.
Anyone can dress up a yard with a shrub
Or some gladiolas.
But it takes real guts to use a small, brightly colored ceramic man.
(youuuu're the maaan)
And what says Welcome To Our Home
Like a dwarf in the hedges.
Many a night,
You've slaved over a hot ceramic man-maker
Knowing somewhere There was a lonely pink flamingo
Or a cement frog
Who needed a buddy.
So crack open an ice cold Bud Light, oh Master of Miniatures
Because as all Americans know:
A home isn't a home,
Without a gnome.
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