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by: kate28 (08/28/2008)

Today we salute you, Mr. Gasoline BBQ Starter.
Never mind charcoal chimneys
And easy lighting brickettes.
The only way to start a real barbecue
Is with a gallon of 93 Octane
And a big book of matches
(light up the sky)
Who needs eyebrows?
You're hungry,
And you've seven pounds of lamb shanks ready to go.
(that's a lot of kebabs)
You don't just defy convention,
You defy warning labels,
And common sense.
(very low IQ)
So crack open an ice cold Bud Light, oh Prince of the Pyrotechnic.
Because no one makes a backyard mushroom cloud like you.
We Salute You
1,340 Clicks

by: kate28 (08/28/2008)

Today we salute you, Mr. Half-Time Shooting Contest Contestant.
For the promise of free t-shirts,
Or a year supply of socks,
You take to the court ready to put on a clinic in abject humiliation.
(take 'em to school, yeah)
You keenly sense how much the crowd yearns for your failure,
And you deliver.
(from DOWNTOWN yeah)
It's hard to make a shot from half-court,
But it's even harder to make one when you shoot like an 80-year-old grandmother.
(you're a staaaar)
So crack open an ice cold Bud Light, Admiral of the Airball.
You may not have won that new car,
But you won something a lot more valuable,
Our hearts.
We Salute You
1,340 Clicks

by: kate28 (05/27/2008)

Today we salute you Mr. Deer-Hunter.
You, the burly man with the tattoos from 1984 have proven to the world that yes,
A human being wearing camouflaged clothing with scent stopping fibers,
Night vision goggles,
A three thousand foot viewing scope,
A fifteen thousand dollar military sniper rifle,
And tank-armor piercing bullets,
Can indeed kill a female deer drinking from a stream.
You have proven that not only can ducks and turkeys be stopped by your quick hand and pinpoint accurate shot,
But so can black bears and even mountain lions.
So crack open an ice-cold Bud Light, Mr. Outdoor-sie,
Because we all know,
It is men like you that will conquer this world of primal beasts and animals,
Until, of course, Wal-Mart runs out of bullets.
We Salute You
1,337 Clicks

by: kate28 (09/10/2008)

Today we salute you, Mr. Hawaiian Shirt Pattern Designer
You provide us with colorful loungewear capable of hiding any stain we can dish out.
(gettin sloppy)
Who else could create flowered shirts that are still so unmistakeably masculine,
A single shirt that matches every pair of pants we own,
And really sets off a white belt?
(looking good now)
Sure women say they hate them,
But inside they're all swooning for the big kahuna.
(ooh kahuna!)
So crack open an ice cold Bud Light, Mr. Hawaiian Shirt Pattern Designer.
Your shirts may not be made in Hawaii,
But Taiwan is an island, too.
We Salute You
1,335 Clicks

by: vikinghoya (07/12/2005)

Bud Light Presents: Real Men of Genius
Today, we salute you, Mr. Deer-Hunter. You, the burly man with the tattoos from 1984 have proven to the world that yes, a human being wearing camouflaged clothing with scent stopping fibers, night vision goggles, a three thousand foot viewing scope, a fifteen thousand dollar military sniper rifle, and tank-armor piercing bullets, can indeed kill a female deer drinking from a stream. You have proven that not only can ducks and turkeys be stopped by your quick hand and pinpoint accurate shot, but so can black bears and even mountain lions. So crack open an ice-cold Bud Light, Mr. Outdoor-sie, because we all know, it is men like you that will conquer this world of primal beasts and animals, until, of course, Wal-Mart runs out of bullets.
We Salute You
1,332 Clicks

by: vctrackster (03/19/2006)

BUD LIGHT PRESENTS: Real Men of Genius.
Today we salute you, Mr. guy who works at burger king
(mr. guy who works at burger king!)
you, armed with only a spatula and a high school diploma
(or not!)
you serve up only the finest heart attacks on a bun.
(arteries are cloggin!)
no matter how low your job pays you, you still dont take shit
(you let us eat it!)
so crack open a bud light guy who works at burger king, because you know how much the ladies like your meat...
(mr. guy who works at burger king!)
We Salute You
1,332 Clicks

by: kate28 (06/12/2009)

Today we salute you, Mr. Parade Float Driver.
Real men don't drive shiny sport cars.
Real men drive old school bus chassis covered in papier machet, pansies and puppets.
(slow and easy)
Why?
Chicks dig floats.
Just ask the Carson County Pork Queen waving from the back end.
(lovely pork queen)
You drive with sweaty palms.
One wrong move from you and Paul Tilley's Olde Tyme Barbershop Quartet is history
(Oooohhhhhhh!)
So crack open an ice cold Bud Light, oh Thoroughbred of the Thoroughfare.
When it comes to parades,
You really float our boat.
We Salute You
1,331 Clicks

by: kate28 (05/29/2008)

Today we salute you Mr. Discount Airline Pilot Guy
Your minimum experience flying a plane
Will never land you at a reputable airline.
Luckily, you don't work for one.
(look at me I'm flying)
Sure we're concerned for our lives,
But not as concerned as saving 9 bucks on a round trip to Fort Myers
(whooaaa)
The most direct route to Houston?
Through Fort Lauderdale.
With layovers in Detroit, Vancouver, and Kalamazoo.
(I can't feel my legs)
So crack open an ice cold Bud Light, oh Skipper of the Skies.
You put the FLY,
In Fly-By-Night Operation.
We Salute You
1,330 Clicks

by: kate28 (05/27/2008)

Today we salute you Mr. Boneless Buffalo Wing Inventor.
How do you improve upon a meat that is breaded, buttered, double-fried
And dipped in blue cheese dressing?
Remove the only part that doesn't contain fat.
(don't need no chicken bone)
Gone now is the race to eat the drumsticks first,
Leaving the wings for the other poor suckers.
(hands off my drummies)
Is it leg?
Is it wing?
Is it rear end?
Now every chunk is as identical as it is indistinguishable.
(hope I'm not eating rear end)
So crack open an ice cold Bud Light,
Boneless Wing Mastermind.
Because we don't have a bone to pick with you.
We Salute You
1,330 Clicks

by: kate28 (08/21/2009)

Today we salute you,
Mr. Outside The Stadium Peanut Seller.
You stand like a sentry outside the grounds of our national passtime,
Offering us your salty nuts.
(nice and crunchy)
Half price on the outside,
All the taste,
That's your pitch.
(nuts for scratch)
There's nothing like spending a summer day on a hard bleacher seat crunching your nuts.
(crunch crunch oh!)
Unless it's sitting behind home plate spreading mustard on your weiner.
(hot n spicy)
So crack open an ice cold Bud Light, Mr. Outside The Stadium Peanut Seller,
Because thanks to you,
A bag of peanuts costs only peanuts.
We Salute You
1,329 Clicks


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