Luyện nghe bài hát Otto Tittsling

"this next story is a true story. it concerns to of my favorite subjects: industrial theft . . . and-a t-ts! mmm, what a combo! this is the story . . . the inventor of the modern
Ent that we women wear today was a german scientist and opera lover by the name of titsling! this is a true story. his name was otto titsling. what happened to otto titsling shouldn't happe
A schnauzer. it's a sad story. I feel I have to share it with you."

Otto titsling, and crout,
Had nothing to get very up about.
His inventions were failures, his future bleak.
He fled to the opera at twice a week.

One night at the he saw an aida
Who's t-ts were so big they would impede her.
he watched her fall into the pit,
Done in by the of those terrible t-ts.

Oh, my god! she blows!
Aerodynamically this was a mess.
eye-balled the diva lying comatose amongst the reeds,
And he suddenly the fire or inspiration
Flood his soul. he what he had to do!
He ran back to his
Where he and futzed and futzed.

For otto titsling had his quest:
To and mold the female breast;
To point the ones to the sky;
To keep the big ones and dry!

Every night sweat and snort
Searching for the support.
He tried string and paper clips.
Hey! he tried his own two lips!

Well, he and he slaved
And he slaved and he
finally one night, in the wee hours of morning,
Otto from his workbench triumphant.
Yes! he had the worlds first
Over-the-shoulder-boulder-holder. hooray!

but ecstatic he ran
Down the to the diva's house
Bearing the prototype in his hot hand.
Now, the did not want to try the darn thing on.
But, after initial misgivings,
She did.
And the of relief that issued forth
From the diva's
Was so loud it was mistaken by some
To be the early of the seraken winds
Which often roll through the schwarzwald
a vengance!
Ahhhhh-i!

But little did know,
At the of his greatest triumph,
Lurking the diva's bed
Was none other than the worst
Of the patentees,
debrassiere.
And was watching the scene
With a deal of interest!

Later night, while our broom hilda slept,
Into the wardrobe softly crept.
He through knickers and corsets galore,
he found otto's titsling and he ran out the door.

Crying, "oh, my god! what joy! bliss!
I'm make me a million from this!
Every woman in the will wanna buy one.
I can all the goods manufactures in taiwan."

"oh, you!"

The result of this swindle is pointedly
Do you buy a or do you buy a brassiere?