Song of the Day, 12/5/2006 - Printable Version +- Drunkard's Walk Forums (http://www.accessdenied-rms.net/forums) +-- Forum: The Drunkard's Walk (http://www.accessdenied-rms.net/forums/forumdisplay.php?fid=21) +--- Forum: General DW Chatter (http://www.accessdenied-rms.net/forums/forumdisplay.php?fid=22) +--- Thread: Song of the Day, 12/5/2006 (/showthread.php?tid=7215) |
Song of the Day, 12/5/2006 - Bob Schroeck - 12-05-2006 I'm happily married with a house and three mistresses. Even with the beard I'm not as hairy as my sister is. Got a new Hummer, two Ferraris, and some Lexuses, And all the girls I know got the big big breasteses. I got a ten-story mansion on the beach With a swimmin' pool filled up with the drool of Robin Leach. Richer than a Twinkie, I got so much cash That to me Paris Hilton is poor white trash. I take forty-seven weeks of vacation a year. If people piss me off I can make 'em disappear. Every time I sneeze I get a feature on the news; The reporter says "gesundheit" and hilarity ensues. And how did I get to be the man that I am? A god among men, only without the tan? It's simple, every time I have to make a choice I just listen to my little inner voice. And he says: Shave all the hair off your butt and glue it to your nostrils. Okay. Steal all the milk from all the supermarkets and put it back in the cows. All right. Find out which species of rodent is the most flammable. Okay. Let's see what fun crafts we can make using only a chainsaw and Regis Philbin. Yeah! So how do I explain my little cranial expressions: Intuition, premonition, or demonic possession? It could be God, an angel, or my dead uncle Paul Or that nasty purple fuzzy thing that lives in my wall. Doesn't matter, and to be honest I don't wanna know, 'Cause thanks to him I've never had to deal with an HMO And I can go show off my rocket powered solid gold Benz. I tell ya life is so much nicer with invisible friends. Record an all-banjo Falco tribute album. Done, and done. Put on a tutu, glue two live wiener dogs to your face, and prance around the subway terminal screaming, "Stop looking at me!" Okay. There's no reason not to have sex with a cheese grater. Hmm, no, I suppose not. Set up a stand outside of K-Mart with a plate full of frozen peas and a sign reading "Take one!" If anyone asks you what the hell you're doing, give them a button that says "I asked about the peas!" He's become my best friend, sticks with me to the end; Thanks to him I'll never live on ramen noodles again And he's always by my side, every minute, every hour Though it does get kinda creepy when I'm trying to take a shower. Still I can't complain 'cause he made me rich And figured out it was the possum milk that made me itch. If it seems weird remember the voice made me do it; I don't question what he says I just get up and get to it. Itemize everything in your cat's litter box for the next seven years and mail a report to the President with a note saying "Here!" Good idea. It's time to find out what urinal cakes taste like. If you say so. Get a black and white horizontally-striped suit, a mask, and a bowling ball with a small length of rope hanging from it, and tiptoe around the airport. Sounds like fun. How old does a baby need to be before it's too big to fit down the toilet? I don't know. Let's find out! Keep swallowing magnets until your farts can erase video tapes. Will do. So to that guy in my head I just wanna say thanks For removin' my angst, so I'm no longer shootin' blanks. And now I own several banks, plus an inflatable watch And paid Justin Timberlake to let me kick him in the crotch. I followed his advice and now I'm makin' major ducats; If it wasn't for him I'd still be processing McNuggets. So when life makes you feel like you should've stayed in bed Just listen to the voice in your head. And he'll say: Fat people are full of toys. Go get some! Yeah! Build a 20 foot tall nude statue of Tony Goldmark licking warm margarine off a malnourished dolphin out of onions, Pez, and lint. With pleasure! If Yanni didn't want to be set on fire and shoved down a flight of stairs, surely he would have said so explicitly by now. Yeah, I guess so. Go to a McDonald's Playland, tie that big Officier Big Mac thing to the back of your car, and drive away at 90 miles an hour. When a cop pulls you over, roll down the window and indignantly ask "WHAT?" You got it! Move to New Jersey and become a comedy rap artist. Oh, do I have to? -- Sudden Death, Inner Voice -- Bob --------- ...The President is on the line As ninety-nine crab rangoons go by... |