"This next story is a true story.
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It concerns two of my favorite subjects:
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industrial theft... and-a t-ts!
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Mmm, what a combo! This is the story...
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The inventor of the modern foundation garment
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that we women wear today was a German scientist
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and opera lover by the name of Otto Titsling!
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This is a true story.
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His name was Otto Titsling.
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What happened to Otto Titsling shouldn't happen to a schnauzer.
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It's a very sad story. I feel I have to share it with you."
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Otto Titsling, inventor and kraut,
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had nothing to get very worked up about.
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His inventions were failures, his future seemed bleak.
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He fled to the opera at least twice a week.
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One night at the opera he saw an Aida
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who's t-ts were so big they would often impede her.
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Bug-eyed he watched her fall into the pit,
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done in by the weight of those terrible t-ts.
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Oh, my god! There she blows!
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Aerodynamically this bitch was a mess.
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Otto eyeballed the diva lying comatose amongst the reeds,
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and he suddenly felt the fire of inspiration
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flood his soul. He knew what he had to do!
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He ran back to his workshop
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where he futzed and futzed and futzed.
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For Otto Titsling had found his quest:
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to lift and mold the female breast;
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to point the small ones to the sky;
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to keep the big ones high and dry!
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Every night he'd sweat and snort
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searching for the right support.
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He tried some string and paper clips.
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Hey! He even tried his own two lips!
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Well, he stitched and he slaved
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and he slaved and he stitched
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until finally one night, in the wee hours of morning,
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Otto arose from his workbench triumphant.
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Yes! He had invented the worlds first
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over-the-shoulder-boulder-holder. Hooray!
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Exhausted but ecstatic he ran
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down the street to the diva's house
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bearing the prototype in his hot little hand.
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Now, the diva did not want to try the darn thing on.
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But, after many initial misgivings,
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she finally did.
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And the sigh of relief that issued forth
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from the diva's mouth
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was so loud that it was mistaken by some
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to be the early onset of the Siroccan Winds
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which would often roll through the Schwarzwald
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with a vengeance!
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Ahhhhh-i!
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But little did Otto know,
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at the moment of his greatest triumph,
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lurking under the diva's bed
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was none other than the very worst
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of the French patent thieves,
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Philippe DeBrassiere.
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And Phil was watching the scene
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with a great deal of interest!
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Later that night, while our Brun Hilda slept,
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into the wardrobe Philippe softly crept.
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He fumbled through knickers and corsets galore,
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'til he found Otto's titsling and he ran out the door.
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Crying, "Oh, my god! What joy! What bliss!
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I'm gonna make me a million from this!
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Every woman in the world will wanna buy one.
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I can have all the goods manufactured in Taiwan."
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"Oh, thank you!"
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The result of this swindle is pointedly clear:
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Do you buy a titsling or do you buy a brassiere?
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"Ohhh! Thank you!"
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-----------------
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Otto Titsling
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Bette Midler |