Hall of Fame
Riki Lindhome and Kate Micucci: Handjob, bland job, I don’t understand job.
Riki Lindhome: 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.
Kate Micucci: 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.
Riki Lindhome: 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 Pollack, I blossomed later than Mayim Bialik.
Kate Micucci: I’m investigating bones like Deschanel. Trying to make it stand up like Dave Chappelle. When I stare the down the barrel of a semi-hard dick, I feel more singled out than Chris Hardwick.
Riki Lindhome: I studies Bach, Sasha Rock, and Isaac Asimov, but I wasn’t on the C bus jerking people off. Wouldn’t let you touch my chest like your vapo-rubbing vixen, let alone deepthroat your tricky Dick Nixon.
Kate Micucci: 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 Samantha Ronson.
Riki Lindhome: I should have explored new frontiers like Will Wheaton, but I was more conservative than Alex P. Keaton. I’ve fallen into crisis just like the Dow.
Kate Micucci and Riki Lindhome: I want to give a handjob, but I don’t know how.
Kate Micucci and Riki Lindhome: Handjob, bland job, 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?
Kate Micucci: 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.
Riki Lindhome: The top is the part that confuses me the most. It looks like a silly putty Pacman ghost. Sometimes it’s jello giggling, sometimes it’s denser, but they all look like a Darth Vader Pez dispenser.
Kate Micucci: Like Sam Jackson, I’m not so good with shaft, when it’s soft and flabby like President Taft. It’s like a deep South queen that you want to make straight. Will I make it upright if I move it like a shake-weight.
Kate Micucci and Riki LIndhome: Move it like a shake-weight. Move it like a shake-weight.
Riki Lindhome: Now I’m pumping like brakes 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 want to squeeze too hard.
Kate Micucci: I’m working my hand til it gets arthritis. I’ll be holding 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.
Riki Lindhome: But the biggest throbbing question of all, is seriously what do you do with the balls. Do I roll them like dice? Do I mold them like clay? Do I tickle them like Elmo or do I throw them like a part-ay?
Kate Micucci: Do I move them all around or do I cup it slow? They’re like the two old critics from the Muppet Show, just sitting there cranky and superfluous. How bout I don’t touch them unless you insist?
Riki Lindhome and Kate Micucci: Handjob, bland job, I don’t understand job.
Riki Lindhome and Kate Micucci: Do I spit? Do I squeeze? Do I ever touch the top? How can I learn when you always make me stop?
Kate Micucci and Riki Lindhome: How can I learn when you always make me stop?
