This week, 22 installations into our 52-week Rock adventure (or Radventure, as some are calling it), I will be wearing tiny trunks, ensconced in Colorado, sunning myself and sipping mocktails in the shadow of the Rockies. That’s correct – I won’t be in this fair isle. I’ll be in the Rockies, thinking about my Rock-y.
This means, alas, that I cannot keep abreast of what Dwayne The Rock Johnson gets up to on the daily. For this I apologise to my fans but also, more importantly, the man himself. No, not Chinese prime minister Li Keqiang - I’m talking about The Rock!
I have decided, on account of my being indisposed in the baking sun of the mid-west, that I will write a poem about the huge man to tide me over until my return.
And here it is.
With colossal arms and shaven head,
The Rock is quite the dude
He does a lot of working out
And eats a lot of food.
The Rock is bigger than your dad
The Rock is kinder than your mum
The Rock is so good-looking that
He makes your face look like a bum.
That’s right, your face looks like a bum
Compared to handsome Dwayne
Perhaps you don’t know who I mean
So let me just explain.
A one-time wrestler, all-time star
The Rock can fight and act.
Have you seen his rippling bod?
That dude is super-jacked!
As well as being sexy and
A very special breed,
The Rock is now a friend of mine
A treasured friend indeed.
The People’s Champion, Scorpion King,
The henchest guy in town
Compared to this big hulking beast
You look like such a clown.
I raise a glass of bubbly
To that constant inspiration
That massive massive massive man
That tower of perspiration
“What a man that Johnson is,
So humble and so wise.”
And as the bubbles meet my lips
I smile and close my eyes.
Stay hungry, stay humble.
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