Lyrics Posthumous Female Transplants - George Carlin

Posthumous Female Transplants

I was thinking about these younger woman who got buried today.
Did you ever think about them?
*Probably not*.
But I was thinking about these younger woman who died three or four days ago got buried today.
And some of them had a bad heart, you know.
Some of them had a bad kidney.
But a lot of them had perfectly good pussies.
Good pussies, nice tits, reasonably tight assholes going to waste, in the ground.
It just seems a shame to me that some fine, young pussy should be rotting away six feet under.
Because you’d think, you would think in this era that if you can donate a heart… Okay, okay.
To someone who needs one.
There ought to be a way to recycle some of these pussies.
And get them to people who need them.
Some old guy living up in the mountains.
“Wow.
Holy shit.
Look at this fucking thing.
This is great.
Thank you very much.
Thank you, sir, I appreciate this.
Thank you, thank you.
Thank you, God bless you.
You’re doing God’s work.
I hope you know that, don’t you.
Hey, this is better than “Publisher’s Clearinghouse”.
Listen here, buddy, you ain’t got a redheaded one of these by any chance do you?
No. I didn’t think so.
I never run into one of them myself.
Thank you very much.
Now listen here.
This is the real thing, ain’t it?
This isn’t one of them storeboard pussies from your old bookstore?
Huh, what’s that?
Oh, okay.
Hold on for just a second.
Oh.
[takes a hard sniff and growls] Jesus Christ on a cracker.
That’s the real fucking thing.
I’d recognize that son of a bitch anywhere.
That straightened out my nose hairs.
I better get this sucker home and get it in the refrigerator as quick as I can.”
The Save-A-Pussy foundation.
Give the gift that keeps on giving.
Fuck the whales.
Save the pussies.
But you wouldn’t want to save all of them.
Not all of them.
Some of them is wore out.
Oh, you wouldn’t want one of them big, old rubbery things.
That ain’t no good.
What you want is, you want you something nice and tight but flexible.
Maybe you’d have an age limit.
Or a mileage check.
You know, you figure out the average length of the average dick, the average number of thrusts per event, the average number of events per lifetime, you’ve got that lady’s mileage.
And you woman, I don’t want you to think I’m going to leave you out of the fun.
We’re going to get you a nice set of cock and balls.
Okay?
We’ll get you something nice just after rigor mortis has set in. Tell the truth.
Ladies.
Wouldn’t you like a nice set of cock and balls without all the bullshit that comes with them.
Huh?
Fucking A. We’ll get you something nice, you keep it on the nightstand.
It’s real easy to find in the dark.
And if your mother comes over, put a hat on it.
Well, somebody’s got to think of these things.
Apparently I’ve been appointed.