Randy Johnson

August 20, 1971 - Tennessee
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Hey, That's My Pickle!

(This is a fictional poem)

This time that dirty jerk went too far.
He got the last pickle out of the jar.
He deserved to pay for taking my pickle.
I'm going to have to learn to be less fickle.
I invited that lousy jerk outside.
He beat me so hard that I cried.
He kept hitting my torso until one of my kidneys wound up in my pocket.
When it comes to my big mouth, I'm going to have to learn how to lock it.
I got the hell beat out of me over something that was worth a nickel.
Next time I'll keep my mouth shut when somebody takes my pickle.
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