You must like Nike: heart and soul, birth to grave
I understand we’re living in the age of global terrorism, and we must all be hyper-vigilant. I myself am constantly scanning the danger zone for Al-Quaeda, from the Piggly-Wiggly down the street where I buy my Skoal, to the Red Dog Saloon where I occasionally stop in for a shot.
But, my fellow Americans and all civilized people around the globe, I suggest to you we must all become even more vigilant against a movement more powerful even than the armies of the night.
You know of whom I speak – that name we dare not speak ill of, lest we be persecuted by the global forces of capitalism:
The Nike swoosh is the Big Brother of our times. He is legion. He is ubiquitous. He is on our clothes, our golf clubs, our very skin, hair, teeth and nails. I could have sworn I saw a coyote slink by the other day sporting a swoosh on its tail.
Here’s the latest from a Nike press release:
“En route to each of their successful seasons, each of the triumphant Nike golf athletes played with the award-winning SasQuatch Driver, Nike irons, Nike One balls, and were clad in Nike Golf apparel, the number one golf apparel company in the world, as well as Nike Golf footwear featuring Power Platform technology.”
Nike from head to toe, from toe to heel, from shaft to head, from heart to soul and from birth to grave.
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sends a chattering chill
down the icy cold spine
of an adidas schill
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