 With the return of the long overdue Ned Files I have elected to dedicate the next installment to www.johnnymeyer.net website’s proprietor – a poem for Mr. Johnny Meyer himself:
Jonathan Mark Meyer is a solid German name, That didn’t quite make er to the hockey hall of fame. But as for me you’ll find interesting enough, I don’t like John or Johnny, because I prefer Fluff.
He enjoys the odd drink and a good friendly laugh, Either that or ripping WCRR for time and a half. He’s your best friend filling your dirty coffee mug, until the news comes – that’s right – your grain has bugs.
He doesn’t rattle easily – he proved that as a Rambler, And backed it up in poker, as a top-notch gambler. But when crunch time hit - a series barely legal, He flopped like a water buffalo - swarmed by Oyen Eagles.
He’s a sneaky, little bastard when it comes to HLA, Just ask Ryan Britton who Johnny nearly sewered every day. He loves his hockey pools, pizza pops, and long baths, But don’t get him spelling or doing advanced math.
It’s sad to think that our dynasty will cease, But it’s bound to happen with his hot babe Lenise, Oh I love my roommate and Dick would agree We’ll always miss the room full of cat poo and cat pee.
By Nathan McLean |
Wow, never knew you were a poet Ned...