Hot Stuff

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D.J. Donny Johnson, just had a nasty day,

When he had a "close" encounter, with a dose of pepper spray.

His canister was needing, a shakeup and a test,

He aimed and sprayed it to the east, but the wind was blowing west.

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The back splash settled nicely, on D.J.’s outstretched hand,

He then went in the men’s room, he had to take a stand.

On the next call that he went to, he was very fidgety,

The D.J. Shuffle soon began, a dance you have to see.

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The burning was incredible, he could not make it stop,

D.J. had stopped shuffling, and now began to hop.

From the car beside him, all soaked with morning dew,

He soaked his hands, and shoved them in, but the fire in there grew.

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Running out of options, amidst increasing pain,

Oh, what he wouldn’t give for, a cloudburst and some rain.

For any tips that he could get, I’m sure he’d pay big bucks,

But he did not go to Lost Lagoon, swimming with the ducks.

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I’m told that his solution, nowhere is down in ink,

He simply tore his pants off, and sat down in a sink.

After soaking for an hour, and prancing all about,

D.J.’s problem had been solved, the fire was put out.

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It’s a good thing that he didn’t have, some frozen cubes of ice,

The results upon his burning spot, would not have been too nice.

But if he did it carefully, I’m sure it wouldn’t wreck-er,

For Hot Stuff D.J., would then possess, a Red Hot Chilly Pecker.

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PC 664 T.J. Gowdyk 99-04-05 (179)

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