A Poem for Fuzzy

There once was a man named Bob.

He's from Jersey though not in the mob.

He got in a car wreck a while ago,

And should be whipping up some cookie dough,

But he's not... Bob, don't be a snob!

You see, Fuzzy's a big racing buff,

Me? I could give a fluff!

But his one request,

Was to see me dressed,

In a NASCAR shirt (man, that was tough!)

"Go big or go home" is what I like to say,

So amongst the 'billies one cold, winter day,

I headed to Wal-Mart,

And loaded my cart,

With Kyle Busch racing gear... I look good, if I simply must say!

Ah yes, you see my shirt?

My ego, it's kinda hurt.

I really feel terrible,

Adorned in Busch wearables

When my heart belongs to Tony Stewart!

I bit the bullet for 'ol Mr. Fuzz,

In the dressing room of Wally World simply because,

It's cookies I need,

Satisfaction guaranteed,

This was hard for me (really, it was!)

**I hope you're feeling good, Bob!  Take care of yourself :o)**