Magic!!!!
Mr. Bobby's Opening Statment
Members of Congress, let me first say to you today... shake and bake. And I mean that. I thank you for allowing me to tell you a little bit about myself and the way that I conduct my affairs, although let's face it, most of you know about all that already, cause I'm Roger the Rocket Clemens dagnabbit and anybody don't know that ain't fit to be an American, let alone a senatorial figure of justice. But in case you don't know about me and these tragic circumstances of cruelty and naked falsehood, I'm here to tell you, I've always believed that hard work and determination were the only way to, you know, be awesome, and not short cuts which are primarily used by sissies. Over the course of my career I've had the opportunity to work with all kinds of trainers, chiropractors, faith healers, swamis, health fairies, midgets with voodoo powers and attractive female dental hygienists to educate myself as to the best way to optimize the perfection of my beautiful body. I met Brian McNamee in 1998 and immediately accorded him the status of My Bro, which entitled him to all the perks of said elite status, barbecues, fishing trips, making out with my wife a couple times, stuff like that. In short I treated him like I treat all the flunkies and mistresses in my life... like members of my family, but ones that I have to pay to like me. And yet now, here we are and I'm being accused of steroids. If I'm guilty of anything, it's of being too trusting, too loving, too good at fishing, and too awesome. And if I'm considered to be ignorant of that, so be it. I've been accused of something that I am not guilty of, and how do you prove a negative, or not get angry about all the things that you are supposed to not have said about things you didn't even mean to say in the first place when you didn't say them? Let me be clear, I have never taken steroids or HGH or government weed in the form of a delicious brownie.
On Meeting with His Nanny
I was just trying to do you old geezers a favor, heck! I heard through the grapevine that you wanted my old nanny's number, and I was like, sure I'll hook ya up, but... was she even hot? I mean, that should tell you everything you need to know right there... I CAN'T EVEN REMEMBER IF SHE WAS HOT OR NOT! Dang. So then I... what a second there Mr. Mayor, my freaky evil Zionist lawyer is whispering something on my neck hairs... DAMN MAN shut up you creepy Zionist freak, it's bad enough you secretly own the entire universe GOSHDANG ALREADY... anyways, where was I? Oh yeah. My old nanny. Yeah I met with her. So what? It's not like we did it or nothin. She ain't even hot.
On Andy Pettite's Testimony
Representative Cummings, first of all, lemme ask you something. Is that woman behind you on the left there, is that Aunt Esther? Cause if it is, sir, and I think we both know it is... well, I just want to say that I am deeply offended that this court is willing to be advised by a woman who has devoted so much of her life to agitating such a great American as Fred Sanford.
Now, in regards to Mr. Pettitte, I strongly believe that he has misheard the memory in question, misremembered, misrecollectified and completely misinterpretated the situation. You gotta understand something about me and Andy. During the time in question, he was more my bro than ole Mr. Snitchface Brian McMacnafart over there... heh heh... heh... that was a good one... uh, yeah than he ever was. I mean, you all remember that show Gilligan's Boat about the retarded sailor who lived in the jungle? Well see, we was exactly like that show, me and Andy. I was the skipper and he was my little buddy and I swear, we was so close, he couldn't even go to sleep at night before I gave him a good hard noogie and told him a story. So now think about that for a second. If he was on the pep pills or the goof balls or the HGH or the THC or the LSD, I woulda KNOWN about it! Heck, Andy Pettitte don't buy a flippin hub cap unless I say so! So believe me, if he was all wacked out on the powders and the vials and the whatnot, and if he was knowledgeably knowing that I was similarly hepped up on the products in question, the goofballs and all the other injectifiable mayhem... then he woulda come to me FIRST and said ROG... and I'd a said WHAT? and he'd a said SHAKE AND BAKE! so of course I woulda said SHAKE AND BAKE to him cause I'm always polite and all, but then you see we woulda talked about it together the way he always talked about our feelings and stuff. So I don't even understand your point there Mr. Comptroller...
On The Manner in Which He Has Been Treated By MLB
I was never told by anyone by letter or phone call or fax or text message or nothing the lies this man were telling about, and if I had, I woulda been down there in a heartbeat to give him a whuppin and get back my favorite fishing poles, that I STILL AIN'T GOT BACK THANK YOU VERY MUCH FARTBRAIN... okay now look, ole Rog is getting a little 'motional here, but lemme say something here - I am a very public personage. When they want me to wear the USA on my chest, when they want me to pitch in the All-Star Game and I'm up with my youngest son at my lake house about a hour north of Houston which happens to be my third favorite of all my lake houses but anyways, all them times they found me no problem. But you know how I found about this here nonsense? I bumped into the former President of the United States in a deer-blind in Texas, damn near shot the sumbitch too cause he scared the bejabbers out of me, but he was just there looking for ole Rog to tell me to keep my head up and keep doing whatever I was doing cause I was great at it and now could I get outta the way cause he was trying to shoot the crap outta that baby deer over there they tied down for him with the secret Presidential rope. You see what I'm trying to say here about this thing? If the goshdanged President can find me in my favorite huntin grotto, then why the dang darn can't Bud Selig call me on his batphone?
Mr. Bobby's Opening Statment
Members of Congress, let me first say to you today... shake and bake. And I mean that. I thank you for allowing me to tell you a little bit about myself and the way that I conduct my affairs, although let's face it, most of you know about all that already, cause I'm Roger the Rocket Clemens dagnabbit and anybody don't know that ain't fit to be an American, let alone a senatorial figure of justice. But in case you don't know about me and these tragic circumstances of cruelty and naked falsehood, I'm here to tell you, I've always believed that hard work and determination were the only way to, you know, be awesome, and not short cuts which are primarily used by sissies. Over the course of my career I've had the opportunity to work with all kinds of trainers, chiropractors, faith healers, swamis, health fairies, midgets with voodoo powers and attractive female dental hygienists to educate myself as to the best way to optimize the perfection of my beautiful body. I met Brian McNamee in 1998 and immediately accorded him the status of My Bro, which entitled him to all the perks of said elite status, barbecues, fishing trips, making out with my wife a couple times, stuff like that. In short I treated him like I treat all the flunkies and mistresses in my life... like members of my family, but ones that I have to pay to like me. And yet now, here we are and I'm being accused of steroids. If I'm guilty of anything, it's of being too trusting, too loving, too good at fishing, and too awesome. And if I'm considered to be ignorant of that, so be it. I've been accused of something that I am not guilty of, and how do you prove a negative, or not get angry about all the things that you are supposed to not have said about things you didn't even mean to say in the first place when you didn't say them? Let me be clear, I have never taken steroids or HGH or government weed in the form of a delicious brownie.
On Meeting with His Nanny
I was just trying to do you old geezers a favor, heck! I heard through the grapevine that you wanted my old nanny's number, and I was like, sure I'll hook ya up, but... was she even hot? I mean, that should tell you everything you need to know right there... I CAN'T EVEN REMEMBER IF SHE WAS HOT OR NOT! Dang. So then I... what a second there Mr. Mayor, my freaky evil Zionist lawyer is whispering something on my neck hairs... DAMN MAN shut up you creepy Zionist freak, it's bad enough you secretly own the entire universe GOSHDANG ALREADY... anyways, where was I? Oh yeah. My old nanny. Yeah I met with her. So what? It's not like we did it or nothin. She ain't even hot.
On Andy Pettite's Testimony
Representative Cummings, first of all, lemme ask you something. Is that woman behind you on the left there, is that Aunt Esther? Cause if it is, sir, and I think we both know it is... well, I just want to say that I am deeply offended that this court is willing to be advised by a woman who has devoted so much of her life to agitating such a great American as Fred Sanford.
Now, in regards to Mr. Pettitte, I strongly believe that he has misheard the memory in question, misremembered, misrecollectified and completely misinterpretated the situation. You gotta understand something about me and Andy. During the time in question, he was more my bro than ole Mr. Snitchface Brian McMacnafart over there... heh heh... heh... that was a good one... uh, yeah than he ever was. I mean, you all remember that show Gilligan's Boat about the retarded sailor who lived in the jungle? Well see, we was exactly like that show, me and Andy. I was the skipper and he was my little buddy and I swear, we was so close, he couldn't even go to sleep at night before I gave him a good hard noogie and told him a story. So now think about that for a second. If he was on the pep pills or the goof balls or the HGH or the THC or the LSD, I woulda KNOWN about it! Heck, Andy Pettitte don't buy a flippin hub cap unless I say so! So believe me, if he was all wacked out on the powders and the vials and the whatnot, and if he was knowledgeably knowing that I was similarly hepped up on the products in question, the goofballs and all the other injectifiable mayhem... then he woulda come to me FIRST and said ROG... and I'd a said WHAT? and he'd a said SHAKE AND BAKE! so of course I woulda said SHAKE AND BAKE to him cause I'm always polite and all, but then you see we woulda talked about it together the way he always talked about our feelings and stuff. So I don't even understand your point there Mr. Comptroller...
On The Manner in Which He Has Been Treated By MLB
I was never told by anyone by letter or phone call or fax or text message or nothing the lies this man were telling about, and if I had, I woulda been down there in a heartbeat to give him a whuppin and get back my favorite fishing poles, that I STILL AIN'T GOT BACK THANK YOU VERY MUCH FARTBRAIN... okay now look, ole Rog is getting a little 'motional here, but lemme say something here - I am a very public personage. When they want me to wear the USA on my chest, when they want me to pitch in the All-Star Game and I'm up with my youngest son at my lake house about a hour north of Houston which happens to be my third favorite of all my lake houses but anyways, all them times they found me no problem. But you know how I found about this here nonsense? I bumped into the former President of the United States in a deer-blind in Texas, damn near shot the sumbitch too cause he scared the bejabbers out of me, but he was just there looking for ole Rog to tell me to keep my head up and keep doing whatever I was doing cause I was great at it and now could I get outta the way cause he was trying to shoot the crap outta that baby deer over there they tied down for him with the secret Presidential rope. You see what I'm trying to say here about this thing? If the goshdanged President can find me in my favorite huntin grotto, then why the dang darn can't Bud Selig call me on his batphone?
