A Poem for Pamela Anderson

With the news that Pammy will be Dancing with the Stars, Betty's Poet Laureate is moved to verse by the former babe of Baywatch.

A Poem for Pamela Anderson

With the news that Pammy will be Dancing with the Stars, Betty’s Poet Laureate is moved to verse by the former babe of Baywatch.

-Betty’s Poet Laureate

Pamela Anderson

Welcome, Pam, to Dancing with the Stars, airing in spring,
Where you’ll perform the tango, cha cha, mambo and swing.

We’re not sure how this will work out, but it could be worse,
You could be on Celebrity Rehab with Dr. Drew and his nurse.

DWTS has been a career move for other celebs gone astray,
Though the jury’s still out on the performance of Tom DeLay.

(Frankly, there’s one thing that could be even more momentous,
If you’d been cast alongside Blago on the upcoming Apprentice.)

Read A Sonnet for Snooki

We’re not sure how you’re preparing for this, dear Pamela
But we hope you’ve been training, working on your stamina.

You’re flexible, as we saw on your sex tape with Tommy Lee,
But more even more skill is required to dance on national TV.

On Baywatch you appeared athletic, sprinting into the ocean,
Then again, maybe not—you were only running in slow motion.

But lots changed since you rocked that red swimsuit on set,
When you swam underwater without your hair looking wet.

You’ve aged quite a bit, gotten more plastic surgery, Botox,
And your old title of sex symbol belongs now to Megan Fox.

And worse, when on the red carpet one boob went astray,
There was no crowd, a clear sign you’ve passed your heyday.

But that’s all going to change when you dance on television,
For you, Dancing with the Stars may prove a wise decision.

But one thing you must buy, due to your top-heavy shape,
Is a never ending supply of heavy-duty double-stick tape.

Wardrobe malfunctions captured by paparazzi are a vacation,
Compared to being caught on TV and getting an FCC violation.

Good luck Pamela, with wishes that your breasts stay put in costume,
And that your fledging career will once again start to bloom.

Betty’s Poet Laureate spends more time than she’d like to admit reclining on her sofa, eating grapes and writing love sonnets to Robert Downey Jr.


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