*stares in drooling, loose-assed incomprehension at this article; yells for the nurse to change the channel*

It's hard to beat Jizz on the Tracks, though I also have soft spots for The Freejizzin' Bob Dylan and Bringing All the Jism Back Home.

High school me would probably have wanted to marry her. I still like Dylan, but I was pretty damn obsessive about him back in high school. I even traded tapes in the early 1990s, before I was aware of any internet. Now, for the last time, eat your goddamn turnips! You kids want to grow up big and strong like your…

Farrier? I fucked 'er! Then I sang a soft song of sadness to the green icicles of the moon.

I acknowledge that that is far better.

But we shouldn't ignore the glory that is the unreleased 1984 outtake of "Jism-man". ♫ Jism-man dance, to the nightingale tune, birds fly high tangled up in jism, oh, oh jism-man♫

I couldn't pick a favorite. Among my favorites:

I think it ended with "Watching the River of Jism Flow" in 1971.

I've seen the original handwritten notes of "A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall"—every single line contains the phrase "flowing river of jism". The man's a saint!

Oh Herpes knows I love him, or at least grudgingly tolerate him.

Yes yes, very good. *absent-mindedly taps his cigar ash onto Hashtag Typist's head* I know where Devon is—Lupin is from Yorkshire and wrote that he likes Devon clotted cream, hence the comment. Over here on the other wise of the Atlantic, they sell it as "Devonshire cream" (presumably because it can't be confused…

Why yes, I do remember the good old days. Now EAT YOUR TURNIPS!

These are all pretty good. Thanks! My ignorance has diminished ever so slightly.

I won't upvote you (on principle) anymore, Herpes, but that one was pretty good.

I personally would be pay cash money to see a really self-deprecating rapper. You know, one who acknowledges the comparative looseness of his rhymes, and who is troubled by his lack of sexual prowess with women. So, basically just me but in rap form.

And that Childish Gambino grew up to be…Teen Angst Gambino.

Fanny floss?

aw shucksh.

Thus, though we cannot make our sun
Stand still, dawg, yet we will make that bitch run.

Dear World: there are too many bands with the word "owl" in them. Please eliminate 37. p.s. I am not a crackpot.