I woke up this morning with a bad hangover
and my p**** was missing again.
This happens all the time; it's detachable.
This comes in handy a lot of the time;
I can leave it home when I think it's gonna get me in trouble,
or I can rent it out when I don't need it.
But now and then I go to a party, get drunk,
and the next morning, I can't, for the life of me, remember what I did with it.
First I looked around my apartment,
and I couldn't find it,
so I called up the place where the party was,
they hadn't seen it either.
I asked them to check the medicine cabinet,
'cause for some reason, I leave it there sometimes,
but not this time.
So I told them if it pops up to let me know.
I called a few people who were at the party,
but they were no help either.
I was starting to get desperate. I really don't like being without my p**** for too long,
It makes me feel like less of a man,
and I really hate having to sit down every time
I take a leak.
After a few hours of searching the house,
and calling everyone I could think of,
I was starting to get very depressed.
So I went to the Kiev and ate breakfast.
Then as I walked down Second Avenue,
toward's St. Mark's Place, where all those people sell used books and other junk on the street,
I saw my p**** lying on a blanket next to a broken toaster oven.
Some guy was selling it! I had to buy it off him.
He wanted 22 bucks, but I talked him down to 17.
I took it home, washed it off, and put it back on.
I was happy again: Complete.
People sometimes tell me I should get it permanently attached, but I don't know.
Even though sometimes it's a pain in the a**,
I like having a detachable p****.
and my p**** was missing again.
This happens all the time; it's detachable.
This comes in handy a lot of the time;
I can leave it home when I think it's gonna get me in trouble,
or I can rent it out when I don't need it.
But now and then I go to a party, get drunk,
and the next morning, I can't, for the life of me, remember what I did with it.
First I looked around my apartment,
and I couldn't find it,
so I called up the place where the party was,
they hadn't seen it either.
I asked them to check the medicine cabinet,
'cause for some reason, I leave it there sometimes,
but not this time.
So I told them if it pops up to let me know.
I called a few people who were at the party,
but they were no help either.
I was starting to get desperate. I really don't like being without my p**** for too long,
It makes me feel like less of a man,
and I really hate having to sit down every time
I take a leak.
After a few hours of searching the house,
and calling everyone I could think of,
I was starting to get very depressed.
So I went to the Kiev and ate breakfast.
Then as I walked down Second Avenue,
toward's St. Mark's Place, where all those people sell used books and other junk on the street,
I saw my p**** lying on a blanket next to a broken toaster oven.
Some guy was selling it! I had to buy it off him.
He wanted 22 bucks, but I talked him down to 17.
I took it home, washed it off, and put it back on.
I was happy again: Complete.
People sometimes tell me I should get it permanently attached, but I don't know.
Even though sometimes it's a pain in the a**,
I like having a detachable p****.