The Penis Poem
By Willie Nelson
My nookie days are over,
My pilot light is out.
What used to be my sex appeal
Is now my water spout.
Time was when, on its own accord,
From my trousers it would spring.
But now I've got a full time job
To find the gosh darn thing.
It used to be embarrassing,
The way it would behave,
For every single morning
It would stand and watch me shave.
Now as old age approaches,
It sure gives me the blues
To see it hang its little head
And watch me tie my shoes.
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I'm still playing catch-up, which is probably going to be the story all week, though we had such gorgeous cool weather on Tuesday that I did take a break for a walk. I got a decent amount of online work done and the most crucial correspondence answered, though I still need to make a couple of appointments and answer pretty much all social emails.
We had vegan teriyaki for dinner (well, I did; spouse had fried clams), then we watched the episode we missed of Blood and Treasure so that we could watch tonight's new episode. By popular demand because several people think I made up the name, here are pics from the Icelandic Phallological Museum in Reykjavik, where there are many pickled ones:
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