Handjob, Blandjob, I Don't Understand Job

Handjob, blandjob, I don't understand job I got a problem and I can't contain it I'll use my icky-sticky rhymes to help me explain it Handy Js are like Stonehenge to me Robert Stack can't even unsolve this mystery I'm the messed up child of a baby boomer I was in the gifted class but a total late bloomer Now I got a secret to get off my chest Went from kissing to sex but never learned the rest In high school, I was in the marching band Not learning what to do with my hand While other girls were dripping like a Jackson Pollock I blossomed later than Mayim Bialik I'm investigating bones like Deschanel Trying to make it stand up like Dave Chapelle When I stare down the barrel of a semi-hard dick I feel more singled out than Chris Hardwick I studied Bach, Jacques Chirac, and Isaac Asimov But I wasn't on the ski bus jerking people off Wouldn't let you touch my chest like you're VapoRubbing Vicks in Let alone deep throat your Tricky Dick Nixon I wanna learn how to make your Watergates flow I'm resigned like Spiro Agnew that I might never know How to HJ your L.B. Johnson Know less about dicks than Samantha Ronson I should have explored New Frontiers like Wil Wheaton But I was more conservative than Alex P. Keaton I've fallen into crisis just like the Dow I wanna give a handjob but I don't know how Handjob, blandjob, I don't understand job Do I spit, do I squeeze, do I ever touch the top? How can I learn when you always make me stop? Now I'm on a full-blown investigation To unlock the secrets of ejaculation I need a translator like I'm reading Balzac To crack the Rosetta Stone over your ball sack The top is the part that confuses me the most It looks like a Silly Putty Pac-Man ghost Sometimes it's jello jiggling, sometimes it's denser But they all look like a Darth Vader Pez dispenser Like Sam Jackson, I'm not as good with Shaft When it's soft and flabby like President Taft It's like a deep south queen that you wanna make straight Will I make it upright if I move it like a Shake Weight? Move it like a Shake Weight Move it like a Shake Weight Now I'm pumping like breaks that aren't anti-lock Trying not to go Psycho on your Alfred Hitchcock I go a little faster and then I retard It's like a hamster that you don't wanna squeeze too hard I'm working my hand 'til it gets arthritis I'll be holdin' 'til I get the Golden Touch of Midas "I think, therefore I am"; getting my Descartes on 'Til I fully comprehend your Marcia Gay Hard-on But the biggest, throbbing question of all's Seriously, what do you do with the balls? Do I roll 'em like dice, do I mold them like clay Do I tickle them like Elmo, or throw 'em like a part-ay? Do I move 'em all around or cup it slow? They're the the two bald critic puppets from the Muppets show Just sitting there cranky and superfluous How 'bout I don't touch them unless you insist? Handjob, blandjob, I don't understand job Do I spit, do I squeeze, do I ever touch the top? How can I learn when you always make me stop? How can I learn when you always make me stop?