I'm never letting my co-worker play songs on the intercom again

Oh, ladies and gentlemen, gather round. I'm about to drop some knowledge that's profoundly profound. It's the one I chose to snake the purple helmeted warrior, the veiny throbbing spit shine glory hole destroyer. Call it my cock, my dick, my prick, my shaft, the meat thermometer that never needs a bath. My Johnson, my Peter, my member, my tool, the angry inch that makes the shy girls drool. It's my dick, my cock, my filthy fucking schlong, the skin flute, the love muscle, the thing that goes dong. It's my pecker, my wiener, my throbbing meat torpedo, the one-eyed monster that turns maybe into yes. Please, oh! Sometimes it's the bald-headed yogurt slinger, the sticky, salty ball swinging finger. My hog, my rod, my turgid love lance.