This gob was known as BoB the Impaler
The son of a New England whaler.
He’d impaled many whales
By their heads or their tails
Had a good aim for an old drunken sailor.
One day when he was ashore
And life was beginning to bore
He got in his car
And went to a bar
Hoping to make a score.
He approached a table
At which sat a shill named Mabel.
He had a line
Which he thought was fine
Said, “You look just like Betty Grable.”
She said, “Don’t give me that stuff
I know you well enough
You’re that old sailor
Some kind of sperm whaler
And you think you’re plenty tough..”
She said, “Hand me my asthma inhaler
I’m allergic to a whaler sailor
‘Cause I will not date
And certainly not mate
With a sailor called BoB the Impaler!
“It just scares the shit outta me,
Makes me want to go climb up a tree.
You’re as crazy as a loon
And I would just as soon
Not be impaled on your harpoon.”
Old BoB, he quickly sought cover
Glad to be rid of that mother.
I’ll have to get real
If I want to appeal.
I’ll change my name to BoB the Lover!
And now he can have his picks
Of all those lovely chicks
And his claim to fame
Is all in his name
And he doesn’t want for kicks!