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The Brassmule Jig

I'll tell you a story, believe me, it's true. A tale you'd best hope never happens to you. A tale of old Brassmule, how he met his fate, you-I can save, but for him it's too late.

Brassmule was big, burly, and strong. His pipes were GIGANTIC and so what his schlong. From city to city, running around, always looking for chicks over four hundred pounds.

One night at the pub a girl caught his eye. Big as a house, just the right size. The broad was enomous, stacked to the hilt. Brassmule soon noticed a bulge in his kilt. The Piper delivered his best pick-up line and thought to himself "This beast is all mine!". The portly young lady could stand for no more, grabbed his conjones and went for the door.

They got to her house and dimmed all the lights. Brassmule was in for one hell of a night. He said that he loved her, he'd always be true, "But Mr. Brassmule, I've only just met you!"

By now he saw double through his drunken eyes, neither had looks or appropriate size. He came to his senses, thought to himself, "At this time of night I won't find nothing else." He took off his shirt, she lifted her skirt, they pulled out his unit and started to play. She asked for a glove, he gave her a shove, had baby Brassmule nine months to-the-day!

A bottle of Jack a day, he'll drink till he dies. Good ol' Brassmule, one hell of a guy!!

Formerly The Spicy McHaggis Jig by The Dropkick Murphys.

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