Oh, It's the Bob and Tom Show. Those lars of hours of hours back when I was in school said 2010 gasoline engine would be a thing of the past. We'd get our own little

rockets that would fly real fast.

I couldn't wait to start flying around

with a four hour erection that wouldn't go down

I'd impress and undress every woman in town.

I couldn't wait for that to get off the ground.

Now I'm sitting here, there's a cop over there me and him supposed to be up in the air him

saying tell you're way too drunk to fly I'll have to write you up for an FU I I'm stuck in an 89 Pontiac I'm supposed to be a

flying sex maniac.

So where's that contraption to strap on my back?

Where the f-f is my jet night? Maybe Ross Perrault could have finally got around to a tiny little rocket with a giant sucking sound but Clinton came

along with mainly women in mind and a giant sucking sound of a different kind

I can't smoke in my car I can't smoke in a bar Bob Dylan still our biggest

rock star we made it to Mars and now the president's black.

But where the shit is my jet bag? I'm 4. 3. 2.

Where the F.

is my jet back.

2. 2.

2.

2. 1.

1 is my jye. Good morning.

What am I here?

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