Chyna - A Touching Tribute to Chyna lyrics

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Chyna - A Touching Tribute to Chyna lyrics

I jerked off to this one thing, I will talk about it then we will move on to lower brow comedy. I play San Francisco and San Diego, back to back. San Diego then San Francisco. Which is bad routing. I rarely do d** anymore. But there are a few cities on tour where d** will get to your head. There's no denying it. Austin, Texas. Portland, Oregon. Every major city in South Florida, Montreal... and San Diego and San Francisco are drug cities. You don't book them back to back. Put a buffer town in-between, a Bakersfield, or a Fresno, somewhere you just phone some bullsh**, burn a bridge and f** in. But I screwed up and booked up San Diego and San Francisco , back to back days and I showed up in San Francisco after San Diego without sleep, bionic jaw, paranoid, sketchy, few hours before showtime. Aaaah. And I didn't wanna jerk off, I just wanted a nap. Jerking off is not even something that I... my dick and I have a relationship like parents who stay together for the sake of the children. It's just that our relationship is cold and distant, we don't make eye contact at breakfast, "you do the pissin' and I'll do the talkin' and we'll all gonna be dead soon and get this over with". I just wanted a nap. I wanted to jerk off but I didn't have my laptop. And I went into a full-blown panic. How do you jerk off without the Internet? I know I used to do it. I used to use a pay phone too, but if you made me use one now, I'd be confused for a minute. Do you take a Visa? Do they still make coins? Do I dial a 1? I don't know. And then I thought: maybe they still have hotel p**n. Which they do! I don't know how you sell it on the internet age, but it was on the hotel TV. And I'm scrolling through the titles, and they're like the most weak, tepid, softcore... Sexy Co-eds. . . what? Big b**b Bonanza?! What is this, starter p**n for children? How can I jerk off to Sexy Co-eds? "Title will not appear on your bill". I wish it would. Because the price is gonna appear on the bill, and p**n is the only thing that costs $17,99. All your Adam Sandler features, and your Toy Story ninth, $12,99. p**n, $17,99. So the girl in the front desk will see $17,99, and look at me like I jerked off to something deviant, and repulsive... which is what I was looking for but you did not provide, so I will still suffer the sh** eye from the front desk having never committed the crime! Put the title on the bill! I want it in big bold red letters, Big b**b Bonanza! So you suffer the shame having sold me this low-rated softcore p**n for $18! So I ended up jerking off for you... to Chyna, the wrestler. Chyna, the wrestler evidently went into the world of p**nography for a short stint, sadly for all parties involved. If you don't know Chyna, it's a difficult pull. She's this 6', ripple-backed she-ogre. She's this manatee woman, with this pre-Cambrian bone brow, that jumps out... she's like Clay Matthews in a brunette wig. She looks like Hellboy! Just sawed her horns off and dropped her at a mattress! Not p**n ready! It's like... some abusive boyfriend taunted her into p**nography, but didn't tell her how. She's not waxed, or tanned. She has this refried tit job, so many botched attempts at making her look feminine, just mounds of scar tissue and walled-eyes nipples looking away. And she has that fat p**y. Keep in mind, I'm still trying to jerk off to this movie. I need a f**ing nap, man! have an important show in San Francisco! How am I gonna cum to this atrocity? And I thought "I'll wait until she takes it in the a**". She has to take it in the a**. Because the name of the picture... is Backdoor to Chyna. There's a non-verbal agreement in which purchasing this, if she does not take it in the a**, I'm not paying $17.99! I'm a consumer and I know my rights! And I'm not like you! I have no shame! I have no compunction of going through a crowded lobby on a Sunday morning through a sea of shriners and girl scouts to slap my hand on the counter and complain about the quality of p**nography that was sold to me in my room! I'll do it 100 times, and I've done it once! Just walk down there... "Excuse, miss representative of the Merriott Hotel International! I rented one of your adult in-room selections last night... last night's picture was Semi-Hard Truckers. I couldn't help but notice that you edited a lot of the jizz shots on the movie! I know it because I own the same movie at home on DVD! I wanted to share it with my family here at EPCOT Center, but you somehow cut off all the good spilltings. It's like tearing the last three pages out of Huckleberry Finn. How will my children ever know the realities of the tractor truck driver's life?" You'll never get that far in the argument. You'll get through this first hand motion, complaining loudly - politely, but loudly... - "Sir, just lower down your voice, we'll take this off your bill... here's some coupons for the Sunday brunch, lower your voice..." But I didn't have to do it, because Chyna takes it in the a**! You have to wait to wait 'til about the third scene, Chyna takes it in the a**, she has one foot in a piece of furniture, and she's leaning like a terrified Heiseman Trophy, fleeing an attack. Chyna takes it in the a** so reticently, Chyna takes it in the a** like you would, if taking it in the a** was strung upon you. You didn't know it's coming, you're just whittling up some carrots for the Julienne salad, when all of a sudden "OOOUGH! MMMMMMMM. MMMM MMM!". She's looking around the room for comforting eye contact from a cameraman. "OOOUGH! UGH! OUUGH!" And I came to that part. Not because it was s**ually appetizing on any level. I just waited to see the look in Chyna's face where I was confident she had plummeted to the lowest, rock-bottom golf divot point in her entire life and knew it. And I paused on that look. And I eked out the most miserable, Schadenfreude load of bitterness *raspberry* Ugh! Couldn't even reach my knuckle hair, just... uuugh. Like a last squeeze in a tube of toothpaste. “Yeahhh! How do you like that, Chyna? s** it up! That's life, lady! Yeahhhh, welcome to show business!" And I slept like an angel for at least an hour and a half and had a great show on the Bay Area.