That's nice.
Thank you.
Thanks very much,
I appreciate it.
Thank you very much.
Thank you all.
Thank you.
I appreciate that.
Thank you.
Thank you.
So let me ask
you something.
Let me ask you how's
everybody doing tonight
huh?
Good.
Well fuck you.
Just trying to make
you feel at home.
Now listen, I've been
out here all this time
and I haven't
been complaining
about anything yet
so I think it's time
to go into the
complaint department.
This is just a
series of things
that are pissing
me off okay?
A series of things that
are pissing me off
cause I don't
have pet peeves
I have major psychotic
fucking hatreds okay?
And it makes the world a
lot easier to sort out.
First thing on
my list tonight,
airport security.
Tired of this shit.
There's too much of it.
There's too much
security at the airport.
I'm tired of some guy
with a double digit IQ
and a triple digit income
rooting around inside
of my bag for no reason
and never
finding anything.
Haven't found
anything yet.
Haven't found one
bomb in one bag
and don't tell me,
Well the
terrorist know
there bags are
going to be searched
so now they're leaving
their bombs at home.
There are no bombs.
The whole thing is
fucking pointless
and it's completely
without logic.
There's no logic at all.
They'll take away gun
but let you keep a knife.
Well what the
fuck is that?
In fact there's a whole
list of lethal objects
they will allow you
to take on board.
Theoretically you
could take a knife,
an ice pick,
a hatchet,
a straight razor,
a pair of scissors,
a chainsaw, six
knitting needles
and a broken
whiskey bottle
and the only thing they're
going to say to you
is that bag has to fit
all the way under the
seat in front of you.
And if you didn't take
a weapon on board relax,
after you been flying
for about an hour
they're going to bring
you a knife and fork.
They actually give
you a fucking knife.
It's only a table knife
but you could kill a
pilot with a table knife.
Might take you a couple
of minutes you know,
especially if
he's hefty huh?
Yeah but you could
get the job done
if you really wanted
to kill the prick.
Shit there's a lot of
things you could use
to kill a guy with.
You could probably beat
a guy to death with the
Sunday New York
Times couldn't you?
Or suppose you just
had really big hands
couldn't you strangle
a flight attendant?
Shit you could probably
strangle two of them,
one with each hand.
You know if you are lucky
enough to catch them
in that little
kitchen area
before they give out the
fucking peanuts you know?
But you could
get the job done
if you really
cared enough.
So why is it
they allow a man
with big powerful hands
to get on board
an airplane?
I'll tell you why.
They know he's not
a security risk
because he's
already answered
the three big
questions.
Question number one:
Did you pack your
bags yourself?
No Carrot Top
packed my bags.
He and Martha Stewart
and Florence Henderson
came over to the
house last night,
fixed me a lovely
lobster Newburgh,
gave me a full
body massage
with sacred oils
from India,
performed a four
way around the world
and then they
packed my bags.
Next question:
Have your bags
been in your possession
the whole time?
No.
Usually the night
before I travel,
just as the
moon is rising,
I place my suitcases
out on the street corner
and leave them there
unattended for
several hours.
Just for good luck.
Next question:
Has any
unknown person
asked you to take
anything on board?
Hmm,
but what exactly is
an unknown person?
Surely everyone is
known to someone.
In fact, just
this morning
Kareem and Ucef
Allibamgaba
seemed to know each
other quite well.
They kept joking about
which one of my suitcases
was the heaviest.
And that's another thing they
don't like at the airport,
jokes you know?
Yeah you can't
joke about a bomb.
Well why is it just jokes?
What about a riddle?
How about a limerick?
How about a
bomb anecdote?
You know no punch line
just a really cute story.
Or suppose you
intended the remark
not as a joke but
as an ironic musing.
Are they prepared to
make that distinction?
Why I think not.
And besides who's
to say what's funny.
Airport security
is a stupid idea,
it's a waste of money
and it's only there
for one reason,
to make white
people feel safe.
That's all, the illusion,
the feeling and
illusion of safety
cause the
authorities know
they can't make an
airplane completely safe.
Too many people
have access.
You'll notice the
drug smugglers
don't seem to have
a lot of trouble
getting there little
packages on board do they?
No and God bless them too.
Oh and by the way
an airplane flight shouldn't
be completely safe.
You need a little
danger in your life.
Take a fucking chance
once in a while will you?
What are you going to do
play with your prick for
another thirty years?
What are you going to
read People Magazine
and eat at Wendy's
till the end of time?
Take a fucking chance.
Besides even if
they made
all of the airplanes
completely safe
the terrorist
would simply
start bombing other
places that are crowded.
Porn shops,
crack houses,
titty bars
and gangbangs you know?
Entertainment venues.
The odds of you being
killed by a terrorist
are practically zero.
So I say relax and
enjoy the show.
You have to be a realist.
You have to be realistic
about terrorism.
Certain groups of
people, certain groups,
Muslim Fundamentalist,
Christian
Fundamentalist,
Jewish Fundamentalist
and just plain
guys from Montana
are going to continue to
make life in this country
very interesting for
a long, long time.
That's the reality.
Angry men in
combat fatigues
talking to God on
a two-way radio
and mothering incoherent
slogans about freedom
are eventually
going to provide us
with a great deal
of entertainment.
Especially after your
stupid, fucking economy
collapses all around you
and the terrorist come
out of the woodwork
and you'll have anthrax
in your water supply
and serine gas in
your air conditioners.
They'll be chemical
and biological
suitcase bombs
in every city
and I say enjoy it,
relax. Enjoy the show.
Take a fucking chance.
Put a little fun
in your life.
To me terrorism
is exciting.
It's exciting.
I think the very
idea that you can
set off a bomb
in a marketplace
and kill several
hundred people
is exciting and
stimulating
and I see it as a
form of entertainment.
Entertainment
that's all it is.
Yeah.
But... but I also know
that most Americans
are soft and frightened
and unimaginative
and they don't realize
there's such a thing
as dangerous fun
and they certainly
don't recognize
a good show when
they see one.
I have always
been willing
to put myself at
great personal risk
for the sake of
entertainment.
And I've always been
willing to put you
at great personal risk
for the same reason.
As far as I'm concerned
all of this
airport security,
all the searches,
the screenings,
the cameras, the questions
it's just one more way
of reducing your liberty
and reminding you
that they can fuck with
you anytime they want
as long as you
put up with it.
As long as you
put up with it,
which means of course
anytime they want
cause that's what
Americans do now.
Their always willing
to trade away
a little of their freedom
in exchange for
the feeling,
the illusion of security.
What we have now
is a completely
neurotic population
obsessed with
security and safety
and crime and drugs
and cleanliness
and hygiene and germs.
There's another
thing, germs.
Where did this
sudden fear of germs
come from in this country?
Had you noticed this,
the media constantly
running stories
about all the
latest infections,
salmonella, ecoli,
hanka virus, bird flu
and Americans
panic easily
so now everybody's
running around
scrubbing this
and spraying that
and overcooking
their food
and repeatedly
washing their hands
trying to avoid all
contact with germs.
It's ridiculous
and it goes to
ridiculous lengths.
In prisons
before they give you
a lethal injection
they swab your
arm with alcohol.
It's true.
It's true.
It's true.
Well they don't want
you to get an infection
and you can see
their point.
Wouldn't want some
guy to go to hell
and be sick.
Would take a lot of
the sportsmanship
out of the whole
execution.
Fear of, germs why
these fucking pussies.
You can't even get a
decent hamburger anymore.
They kick the shit
out of everything now
cause everybody's afraid
of food poisoning.
Hey where's your
sense of adventure?
Take a fucking
chance will ya?
Do you know how
many people
die in this country from
food poisoning every year?
Nine thousand,
that's all,
it's a minor risk.
Take a fucking chance
bunch Goddamn pussies.
Besides what do you think
you have an
immune system for?
It's for killing germs
but it needs practice.
It needs germs
to practice on
so... so listen.
So listen.
If you kill all the
germs around you
and live a completely
sterile life
then when germs
do come along
you're not going
to be prepared.
And never mind
ordinary germs
what are you going to do
when some super
virus comes along
that turns your
vital organs
into liquid shit?
I'll tell you what
you're going to do,
you're going to sick,
you're going to die
and you're going
to deserve it
cause you're
fucking weak
and you got a fucking
weak immune system.
Now.
Goddamn it.
Hey.
All right.
Let me you tell
you a true story
about immunization okay?
When I was a little
boy in New York City
in the 1940's we swam
in the Hudson River
and it was filled
with raw sewage okay?
We swam in raw
sewage you know,
to cool off
and at that time the
big fear was polio.
Thousands of kids died
from polio every year
but you know something?
In my neighborhood no
one ever got polio,
no one, ever.
You know why?
Cause we swam
in raw sewage.
It strengthened
our immune systems.
The polio never
had a prayer.
We were tempered
in raw shit.
So... so personally
I never take
any special precautions
against germs.
I don't shy
away from people
who sneeze and cough.
I don't wipe off
the telephone.
I don't cover
the toilet seat
and if I drop
food on the floor
I pick it
up and eat it.
I eat it.
Yes I do.
Even if I'm at
a sidewalk caf
in Calcutta,
the poor section
on New Years morning
during a soccer riot.
And you know something
in spite of all that
so called risky behavior
I never get infections.
I don't get them.
I don't get colds.
I don't get flu.
I don't get headaches.
I don't get upset stomach.
And you know why?
Cause I got a good
strong immune system
and it gets a
lot of practice.
My immune system
is equipped
with the biologically
equivalent
of fully automatic
military assault rifles
with night vision
and laser scopes
and we have
recently acquired
phosphorus grenades,
cluster bombs
and anti-personnel
fragmentation mines.
So when my white blood
cells are on patrol
Keeping order in
my bloodstream
seeking out strangers
and other undesirables,
if they see any,
any suspicious looking
germs of any kind
they don't fuck around.
They whip out the weapons,
they wax the motherfucker
and deposit the
unlucky fellow
directly into my colon.
Into my colon,
there's no nonsense.
There's no
Miranda warning.
There's none of that
three strikes and
your out shit.
First offense bam
into the colon you go.
Yeah.
Good.
Yeah.
All right.
Oh, and speaking
of my colon
I want you to know
I don't automatically
wash my hands
every time I go to
the bathroom okay?
Can you deal with that?
Sometimes I do,
sometimes I don't.
You know when
I was my hands?
When I shit on them.
That's the only time.
That's the only...
and you know how
often that happens?
Tops... tops two, three
times a week, tops.
Tops.
Maybe a little
more frequently
over the holidays,
you know what I mean?
And I'll tell you
something else
my well-scrubbed
friends.
You don't always need
a shower everyday.
Did you know that?
It's overkill.
Unless you work out
or work outdoors
or for some reason come
in intimate contact
with huge
amounts of filth
and garbage everyday
you don't always
need a shower.
All you really need to do
is to wash the
four key areas,
armpits, asshole,
crotch and teeth.
Got that?
Armpits, asshole,
crotch and teeth.
In fact you can
save yourself
a whole lot of time
if you simply use
the same brush
on all four areas.
Thank you.
Thank you.
I appreciate
it. Thank you.
All right.
Listen I got a
few more items
of things that are
pissing me off
and this one comes in
the form of a question.
Haven't we had
about enough
of this cigar smoking
shit in this country?
Huh?
Huh?
When is this going to end?
When is this shit
going to go away?
When are these fat,
arrogant, overpaid,
overfed, over privileged,
over indulged,
white collar,
business criminal,
asshole, cocksuckers
going to put
out their cigars
and move along to their
next abomination?
White pussy businessmen
sucking on a
big brown dick.
That's all it is.
That's all it is.
Yeah.
A big brown dick.
Sigmund Freud said,
"Sometimes a cigar
is just a cigar."
Oh yeah, well sometimes
it's a big brown dick...
with a fat, arrogant,
white-collar
business
criminal, asshole
sucking on the
wet end of it.
But hey, the news is
not all bad for me,
not all bad,
you want to know
the good part?
Cancer of the mouth.
Good.
Fuck 'em.
Makes me happy.
It's an attractive
disease,
goes nice with
a cell phone.
So light up.
Suspend a man and
suck that smoke
deep down into
your empty suit
and blow it
out your ass
you fucking cocksucker.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Hey,
here's another question
I've been pondering.
What is all this
shit about angels?
Have you heard this?
Yeah, three out
of four people
now believe in angels.
What are you
fucking stupid?
Has everybody lost
their fucking mind
in this country?
Angels, shit.
You know what
I think it is?
I think it's a
massive collective
psychotic chemical
flashback
of all the drugs,
all the drugs,
smoked, swallowed,
snorted, shot
and absorbed rectally
by all Americans
from 1960 to 1990.
Thirty years of
adulterated street drugs
will get you some
fucking angels my friend.
Angels shit.
What about goblins huh?
Doesn't anybody
believe in goblins?
Never hear about them
except on Halloween
and its always negative
shit too you know?
And zombies, where the
fuck are all the zombies?
That's the trouble
with zombies,
they're unreliable.
I say if you're going
to buy the angels shit
you might as well go
for the zombie
package as well.
Here's another
horrifying example,
aspect of
American culture,
the pussification,
the continued,
the continued
pussification
of the American male
in the form...
yeah all right,
in the form of
Harley Davidson
theme restaurants.
What the fuck is
going on here?
Harley Davidson used
to mean something.
It stood for
biker attitude.
Grimy outlaws and
there sweaty mamas,
full of beer and crank
rolling around
on Harley's
looking for a good time
destroying property,
raping teenagers and
killing policemen.
All very necessary
activities by the way
but now theme
restaurants
and this soft shit
obviously didn't come
from hardcore bikers.
It came from these
weekend motorcyclists.
These fraudulent,
two day a week
motherfuckers
who have their bikes
trucked into
Sturgis, South Dakota
for the big rally
and then ride around
like they just come
in off the road.
Dentist and bureaucrats
and pussy boy
software designers
getting up on a Harley
cause they think
it makes them cool.
Well hey Skeezits
you ain't cool,
you're fucking chilly.
And chilly ain't
never been cool.
And here as long
as were talking
about theme restaurants,
I got a proposition
for you,
I think if white people
are going to burn
down black churches
then black people
ought to burn down the
House Of Blues huh?
What a fucking disgrace
that place is,
the House Of Blues.
They ought to call it
the house of lame
white motherfuckers.
Inauthentic, low
frequency, single digit
lame white motherfuckers,
especially these
male movie stars
who think they're
blues artist.
You ever see these guys?
Don't you just want
to puke in your soup
when one of these fat,
balding, overweight,
over aged, out of shape,
middle-aged
male movie stars
with sunglasses
jumps on stage
and starts blowing
into a harmonica.
It's a fucking sacrilege.
In the first place,
in the first place,
white people
got no business
playing the blues
ever at all,
under any
circumstances.
Ever, ever, ever.
What the fuck
do white people
have to be blue about?
Banana Republic
ran out of khakis?
Huh?
The Espresso
machine is jammed.
Hootie and the Blowfish
are breaking up?
Shit white people
ought to understand
there job is to give
people the blues
not to get them.
And certainly not to
sing or play them.
Tell you a little
secret about the blues;
it's not enough to know
which notes to play
you got to know why
they need to be played.
And another thing,
I don't think,
I don't think
white people
should be trying to
dance like blacks.
Stop that!
Stick to your faggoty
polkas and waltzes.
And that repulsive
country line dancing
shit that you do
and be yourself.
Be proud, be
white, be lame
and get the fuck
off the dance floor.
Now.
I thank you.
Now listen,
long as were
discussing minorities
I'd like to mention
something about language.
There are a
couple of terms
being used a
lot these days
by guilty
white liberals.
First one is,
happens to be.
He happens to be black.
I have a friend
who happens to be black.
Like it's a fucking
accident you know?
Happens to be black?
Yes he happens
to be black.
Awe yeah, yeah, yeah.
He had two black parents?
Oh yes, yes he did.
Yes.
And they fucked?
Oh indeed they did.
Indeed.
So where does the
surprise part come in?
I should think it
would be more unusual
if he just happened
to be Scandinavian.
And the other
term is openly.
Openly gay.
They'll say,
he's openly gay.
But this... that's
the only minority
they use that for.
You know you wouldn't say
someone was openly black.
Well maybe James Brown
or Lewis Farrakhan.
Lewis Farrakhan
is openly black.
Colin Powell is
not openly black.
Colin Powell is
openly white,
he just happens
to be black.
Okay.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Yeah.
Oh thank you.
Thank you.
And while were at it
when did the word urban
become synonymous
with the word black?
Did I fall asleep for
eight or nine years?
Urban styles, urban
trends, urban music,
I was not consulted
on this at all.
Didn't get an email,
didn't a fax,
didn't get a fucking
postcard, fine!
Let them go.
And I don't
think white women
should be calling each
other girlfriend okay?
Stop pretending
to be black.
And no matter
what color you are
"you go girl"
should probably go...
right along,
right along with
"you the man."
Hey you the man.
Oh yeah?
Well you the
fucking honkey.
Now something a little
more positive for you.
Don't want you to think
the whole show is
just negativity.
This is about a festival.
This is my idea
for one of those
big outdoor
summer festivals.
This is called Slugfest.
This is for men only.
Here's what you do,
you get about a
hundred thousand
of these fucking men,
you know the ones I mean,
these macho
motherfuckers.
Yeah, these strutting,
preening, posturing,
hairy, sweaty, alpha
male jack offs.
The muscle assholes.
You take about a
hundred thousand
of these
disgusting pricks
and you throw them
in a big dirt arena,
big twenty-five
acre dirt arena,
and you just let them
beat the shit
out of each other
for twenty-four
hours nonstop,
no food, no water
just whiskey and PCP.
And you just let them
punch and pound and kick
the shit out of
each other until
only one guy is
left standing
then you
take that guy
and you put him
on a pedestal
and you shoot him
the fucking head.
Yeah.
Yeah.
Then you put the
whole thing on TV.
Budweiser would
jump at that shit
in half a minute.
And guys would volunteer.
Guys would line up
all you got to do
is promise them a small
appliance of some kind.
Men will do anything
just give them something
that plugs in the wall
makes a whirring noise.
Here's another
male clich,
these guys who
cut the sleeves
off of their T-shirts
so the rest of us can have
an even more
compelling experience
of smelling
their armpits.
I say, hey Bruno shut it
down would you please?
You smell like an
anchovy's cunt okay?
Yeah.
Not good.
Not good Bruno
and definitely
not for sharing.
This is the same
kind of guy
that has that
barbed wire tattoo
that goes all the way
around the bicep.
You've seen that
haven't you?
That's just what
I need some guy
who hasn't been laid
since the bicentennial
wants me to think he's
a bad motherfucker
because he's got
a picture ahha,
a painting of some
barbed-wire on his...
I say hey junior
come around
when you have the
real thing on there
I'll squeeze that shit on
good and tight
for you okay?
No kidding.
No kidding.
This is the same
kind of guy if you,
if you smashed
him in the face
eight or nine times
with a big chunk
of concrete
and then beat
him over the head
with a steel rod for
an hour and a half
you know what?
He'd drop like
a fucking rock.
Like a rock.
Here's another guy
thing that sucks.
These T-shirts that say,
Lead follow or get
out of the way.
You ever see that?
This is more of that
stupid Marine
Corp bullshit.
Obsolete male impulses
from a hundred
thousand years ago.
Lead follow or get
out of the way.
You know what I do
when I see that shirt?
I stand right in
the guys path,
force him to
walk around me,
he gets a
little past me,
I spin him around,
kick him in the nuts,
rip off his shirt,
wipe it on my ass
and shove it down
his fucking throat.
That's what I do when
I see that shirt.
Yeah.
Hey, listen,
that's all
these Marine's
are looking for
a good time.
And speaking
of tough guys,
I'm getting a little
tired of hearing
that after six
policemen get arrested
for shoving
a floor lamp
up some black guys ass
and ripping his
intestine's out
the police
department announces
they're going to have
sensitivity training.
I say hey, if you
need special training
to be told not to jam
a large
cumbersome object
up someone else's asshole
maybe you're
too fucked up
to be on the police
force in the first place
huh?
Maybe.
Maybe not.
Maybe not, I don't know.
Listen, yeah.
That's right.
You know what
they ought to do?
They ought to have
two new requirements
for being on the police.
Intelligence and decency.
You never can tell
it might just work.
It certainly hasn't
been tried yet.
No one should ever have
any object placed
inside their asshole
that is larger
than a fist
and less loving
than a dildo okay?
Now this next thing is
about our president.
This is about
our president.
Bill Jeff.
Bill Jeff.
Bill Jeff.
Clinton.
I don't call him Clinton
I call him Clittin.
Clittin, C-L-l-T-T-l-N,
apostroph-e.
His big deal was J.F.K.
Isn't that right?
Love J.F.K.
Wanted to immolate J.F.K.
In every way.
Well J.F.K.'s
administration
was called Camelot.
Well what it really
should have been called
Come A Lot.
Because that's what
he did he came a lot.
So Clinton's
looking for a legacy
that's what he
should call it.
Well maybe come a little
would be better for him
cause he came a little.
You know, a little
on the dress,
little on the desk,
not a whole lot really.
Hey he was no match,
no match for Kennedy in
the pussy department.
Kennedy aimed high,
Marilyn Monroe.
Clinton showed his dick
to a government clerk.
There's a drop off here.
It's a drop off.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Now... I appreciate it.
Something else I'm
getting tired of
is all this stupid bullshit
we have to listen to
all the time
about children.
It's all you here
in this country.
Children.
Help the children.
What about the children?
Save the children.
You know what I say?
Fuck the children.
Fuck 'em.
They're getting entirely
too much attention
and I know what you're
thinking you say,
Jesus he's not going to
attack children is he?
Yes he is.
He's going to
attack children.
And remember this is
Mister Conductor talking.
I know what I'm
talking about.
I know what I'm
talking about.
And I also know,
I also know all
you single dad's
and soccer mom's
who think you're
such fucking heroes
aren't going to
like this
but somebody's got to tell
you for your own good,
you're children are
overrated and overvalued.
You've turned them into
little cult objects.
You have a child fetish
and it's not healthy.
And don't give me, don't
give me that weak shit.
Well I love my children.
Fuck you.
Everybody loves
their children.
Doesn't make you special.
John Wayne Gacy
loved his children.
Kept them all right out in
the yard near the garage.
That's not what
I'm talking about.
What I'm talking about
is this constant,
mindless, yammering
in the media,
this neurotic fixation
that some how everything,
everything has to be
revolved around children.
It's completely
out of balance.
Listen, there are a couple
of things about kids
you have to remember.
First of all, they're
not all cute okay?
In fact, if you
look at them close
some of them are rather
unpleasant looking.
And a lot of them don't
smell too good either.
The little ones
in particular
seem to have a kind of
urine and sour milk
combination or something.
Stay with me on
this, the longer,
the sooner you face it
the better off
you're going to be.
Second premise,
not all children
are smart and
clever got that?
Kids are like any
other group of people,
a few winners a
whole lot of losers.
There are a lot of
loser kids out there
who simply aren't
going anywhere.
And you can't
save them all.
You can't save them all.
You got to let them go.
You go to cut them lose.
You got to stop
overprotecting them
cause your making
them too soft.
Today's kids are
way too soft.
For one thing there's too
much emphasis on safety.
Childproof
medicine bottles
and fireproof pajamas,
child restraints in
car seats and helmets,
bicycles, skateboard,
baseball helmet.
Kids have to wear helmets
now for everything
but jerking off.
Grown ups have
taken all the fun
out of being a kid
just to save a few
thousand lives.
It's pathetic.
It's pathetic.
What's happening is,
all right,
what's happening,
you know what it is?
These baby boomers, these
soft, fruity baby boomers
are raising an
entire generation
of soft, fruity kids
who aren't even allowed
to have hazardous toys
for Christ's sake.
Hazardous toys shit.
What ever happened
to natural selection?
Survival of the fittest.
The kid who swallows
too many marbles
doesn't grow up to
have kids of his own.
Simple as that.
Simple.
Nature, nature.
Nature knows best.
We're saving entirely
too many lives
in this country
of all ages.
Nature should be
allowed to do its job
of killing off the
weak and sickly
and ignorant people
without interference
from air bags and
batting helmets.
Just think of it as
passive euthenics okay?
Now here's another example
of over protection.
Did you ever notice
on the TV news
every time some
guy with an AK 47
strolls onto a school yard
and kills three
or four kids
and a couple
of teachers,
the next day,
the next day
the school is overrun
with counselors
and psychiatrist
and grief
counselors
and trauma therapists
trying to help
the children cope.
Shit when I was in school
someone came to our school
and killed three
or four of us
we went right on
with our arithmetic.
Thirty-five
classmates minus four
equals thirty-one.
We were tough.
We were tough.
I say if kids can handle
the violence at home
they ought to be
able to handle
the violence in school.
I'm not worried about
guns in school,
you know what
I'm waiting for?
Guns in church.
That's going to
be a lot of fun.
And it will
happen you watch.
Some nut will go fucking
ape shit in a church
and they'll
refer to him as
a disgruntled worshiper.
Here.
Here's another bunch
of ignorant shit.
School uniforms.
Bad theory.
The idea that if kids
wear uniforms to school
it helps keep order.
Don't these schools
do enough damage
making all these
kids think alike
now there going to get
them to look alike too?
And it's not a new idea.
I first saw it in old
newsreel in the 1930's
but it was hard
to understand
cause the narration
was in German.
All right.
One more.
Thank you.
Thank you.
One more item
about children
and that is this
superstitious nonsense
that blames
tobacco companies
for kids who smoke.
Listen kids don't smoke
because a camel in
sunglasses tells them to.
They smoke for the
same reasons adults do
because it relieves
anxiety and depression.
And you'd be anxious
and depressed too
if you had to
put up with these
pathetic, insecure,
striving, anal,
yuppie parents
who enroll you in college
before you're old
enough to know
which side of the
playpen smells the worst.
And then they fill
you full of Ritalin
and drag you
all over town
in search of
meaningless structure.
Little League, Cub
Scouts, swimming, soccer,
karate, piano, bagpipes,
watercolors, witchcraft,
glass blowing and
dildo practice.
They even,
they even have play
dates for Christ's sakes.
Playing is now done
by appointment.
What ever happened to
you show me
your wee wee
and I'll show you mine?
Hey no wonder kids
smoke, it helps.
Not as much as weed
but hey you can't
have everything.
You know it's true,
parents are burning these
kids out on structure.
I think everyday
all children
should have three
hours of daydreaming,
just daydreaming.
You could use it a little
of it yourself by the way.
Just sit at the window
stare at the clouds
it's good for you.
Do you want
to know how
you can help
your children?
Leave them the fuck alone!
Very well.
Thank you very much.
Okay.
All right now a
little change of pace.
Little change
of intensity.
I want you to know
what's on
television tonight
on the other channels.
Always like people
to know what it is
they're missing by
listening to my shit.
First of all on the
Playboy channel
on the Playboy
channel tonight
they have one of those
new reality shows
where the people at home
send in their own tapes
it's called, Home
Videos of Bad Fucking.
And speaking of that
delightful activity
I guess you know last
week Rickey Lake
had a special program
Women Who Fake Orgasms
so tonight not
to be out done
Jerry Springer has
a night time special
Men Who Fake
Bowel Movements.
Yeah I think they're
running out of topics
on those shows too.
Sally Jesse's
next show is
Rapist's Who Force
Their Victims
to Play Yahtzee
Beforehand.
Getting a little
strange on daytime TV.
Then later on tonight
on the Nostalgia Channel
they're going to
play back-to-back
two of my
favorite episodes
of Little House
on the Prairie.
First of all of the
A Douche Bag for Clara.
Wasn't that good?
And it was sad toward
the end when she cried
cause she stuck it
in the wrong hole.
But as they say
in the U.S. Navy,
there is no wrong hole.
And then right after that
they're going to play
my favorite Little House
on the Prairie of all time,
Missy Takes A Big
Dump In The Woods.
And that was
interesting I thought
cause she had on
the high heels
and the long dress
and it was fun to watch
how she had to maneuver
through the poison sumac.
And they didn't have
toilet paper in those days
she had to use a
series of pinecones.
And she was pulling them
in the wrong direction.
Yes.
I understand toward
the end of the show
they had to bleep
out a lot of
screaming and
foul language.
And then hey, hey,
later on tonight
on pay-per-view,
on pay-per-view
Willie Nelson.
Willie Nelson's concert
is on and TV Guide listed
all the songs he's
going to sing.
He's going to start out
with one my favorites,
Too Drunk To Jerk Off,
isn't that a good one?
God I love that song.
Then he's going to do
a series of love songs.
Kiss Me I'm Coming,
awe that's a good one.
Kiss me I'm coming.
Hold me I'm humming.
Hmmmm.
Well I can't help
it, I am a romantic
and I do enjoy the
sentimental tunes.
Here's a sad song,
I should of Fucked
Ole' What's Her Name.
Remember that?
I should of never
played the game.
I should of fucked
ole' what's her name.
Here's one my mother used
to sing around the house.
You're Love Ran Down My
Leg and Now You're Gone.
Yeah.
Yeah.
That one always got to me.
I'm glad you feel
the same way.
Here's a fine love song.
You Blew My Mind
Now Blow Me.
He even,
he's even going to do
a Stevie Wonder song,
I Just Called To Say
I Tested Positive.
Yeah.
Well you don't want
to leave anybody out
you know what I mean?
And hey, and hey,
what would a Willie
Nelson show be
without a couple
of cowboy songs?
He's going to do that one
George Jones and
Waylon Jennings wrote,
Drinking Beer,
Taking A Shit
and Passing Out.
Then he's going
to do a kind of
traditional western song,
one that Gene
Autry used to sing
when I was a little boy,
It's Midnight in Montana
and I Can't Get My
Dick Out of this Cow.
I love that song.
I always liked it.
Yeah.
You know why I like
that song so much?
Cause it's a real
cowboy song,
and by the way, speaking
of cattle fucking,
do you know why it is
when a rancher
fucks a sheep
he does so at the
edge of a cliff?
It's so the sheep
will push back.
Little something for you.
Yes.
Just a little tip
for you outdoorsmen
when you're out camping.
Now this next thing
is about names
that's all names.
Names are an
interest of mine.
Not a hobby.
Hobby's cost money.
Interest are free.
This is just about names.
Did you ever notice how
they name singles bars?
Singles bars have
all the same kind of
cutesy little one word
names that end in 'S.'
Scamps, Tramps, Chats,
Rumors, Cahoots, Cheers,
Chances, Mingles,
Risks, Gambits, Notions,
hey if I had a singles bar
you know what I'd call it?
Nipples and Dicks.
A little truth
in advertising.
The Sperm Club.
Snatch-O-Rama.
The Crotchiteria,
Frankie's Fuckery,
Caf Vagina,
Open All Night.
Well I'm an old
fashioned guy.
I'm old-fashioned
cause I believe
the name on the
outside of a place
ought to let you know
what's going on
in the inside.
Here would be a good name
for a gay restaurant,
The Mouthful, huh?
Come on that's
clever shit,
that's a double
pun Goddamn it,
you didn't think of it.
Besides you don't
have to eat there
if you don't want to.
No, no, just go in
have a cocktail.
Or a high ball.
Here's another name
I don't care for,
TGI Fridays.
You know these cutesy
ass little places,
TGI Fridays.
That whole TGIF thing was
cute for about an hour,
about an hour,
and that was 65 years ago
when someone first
said it on the radio.
Not cute anymore,
time to start bombing
these locations.
TGI Fridays.
If I had a
place like that
you know what
I'd call it?
H-S-l-O-W,
Holy Shit its
Only Wednesday.
I think people would
drink a lot more liquor
if they thought it was
Wednesday all the time.
Well I'm just looking
for a little honesty
in these names,
little honesty.
That's not asking a lot.
I'm thinking of
opening up a motel
and calling it The
Sleep and Fuck.
Wouldn't that be a good
honest name for a motel?
Who needs this Shady
Pines bullshit?
The Sleep and Fuck Motel.
Get me one of them
big neon signs,
Sleep... Fuck.
Sleep... fuck.
Sleep and fuck.
Sleep and fuck.
Sleep and Fuck.
Sleep... fuck.
Sleep... fuck.
Sleep and Fuck.
Sleep and Fuck.
You put it right at
the Jersey entrance
to the Holland
Tunnel you know?
Actually Fuck and Sleep
would be a little more
accurate wouldn't it?
Best name for a
motel would be
The Fuck and Smoke and
Sleep and Rollover
and Get Out of Bed
and Wash Your Crotch
and Go Out and Buy
Two Cans Mr. Pibb
and Go Home and Fuck
A Whole Lot More.
A whole lot more.
Cause that's all
they ever have left
in those soda machines
on Sunday nights.
Mr. Pibb and Diet
Shasta Orange
and that yellow can
of Canada Dry Tonic
Water that nobody wants!
And speaking of
naming things,
am I the only person
in this country
who's laughing when
these commercials
come on television for
Snapper lawn mowers?
Isn't there anyone else
on this fading republic
who knows what
a snapper is?
A snapper is a pussy okay?
That's what it means,
snapper means pussy
It's derived from an
older more specific term
snappin' pussy,
which describes a
particular type of pussy.
One with good, quick
muscular control,
kind of an elasticity
in the vaginal wall
that can grab
a hold of you
and give you a decent hump
do you know what
I'm talking about?
A snappin' pussy.
But now, now snapper
means any kind of pussy
and they've named a lawn
mower company after it.
Now I have seen a few
snappers in my day,
never seen one
that'll cut grass.
No.
No.
Maybe do a little edging,
a little edging
along the driveway
after a party that's
all you can hope for.
But you know weed whacker
you can understand.
Now a lot of these
company names
and product names
are influenced
by marketing
and advertising people
and this next thing
is about advertising
and by the way if
you should have any
cognitive dissonance
about the fact
that I do commercials
for 10-10-2-20
and still attack
advertising up here
well you're just
going to have
to figure that shit
out on your own okay?
Now, this is called
advertising lullaby.
Keeping in mind of course
that the whole
purpose of advertising
is to lull
you to sleep.
Quality, values, styles,
service, selection,
convenience, economy,
savings, performance,
experience,
hospitality, low-rates,
friendly service, name
brands, easy terms,
affordable prices,
money back guarantee,
free installation,
free admission,
free appraisal,
free alterations,
free delivery,
free estimates,
free home trial
and free parking,
no cash, no problem,
no kidding,
no fuss, no muss, no
risk, no obligation,
no red tape, no
down payment,
no entry fee, no
hidden charges,
no purchase necessary,
no one will call on you,
no payments or interest
till September.
But limited time only,
so act now, order today,
send no money, offer good
while supplies last,
two to a customer, each
item sold separately,
batteries not included,
mileage may vary,
all sales are final,
allow six weeks
for delivery,
some items not available,
some assembly required,
some restrictions
may apply.
But come on in.
Come on in.
Come on in for a
free demonstration
and a free
consultation
with our friendly
professional staff.
Our experience
and knowledgeable
sales representatives
will help you
make a selection that's
just right for you
and just right
for your budget
and say don't forget to
pick up your free gift,
a classic deluxe,
custom designer, luxury,
prestige,
high-quality premium,
select gourmet, pocket
pencil sharpener.
Yours for the asking,
no purchase necessary,
it's our way of
saying thank you
and if you act
now we'll include
an extra added free
complimentary bonus gift,
a classic deluxe,
custom designer,
luxury, prestige,
high-quality,
premium select, gourmet,
combination key ring,
magnifying glass and garden hose
in a genuine imitation
leather style carrying case
with authentic vinyl trim.
Yours for the asking,
no purchase necessary.
It's our way of
saying thank you.
Actually it's
our way of saying
bend over just a
little bit farther
so we can stick this
big advertising dick
up your ass a
little bit deeper.
A little bit deeper.
A little bit deeper.
You miserable,
no good, fucking
consumer asshole.
Cause you do know folks
living in this country
you're bound to know,
that every time you're
exposed to advertising
you realize once again
that America's
leading industry,
America's most
profitable business
is still the
manufacture packaging,
distribution and
marketing of bullshit.
High quality, grade
'A', prime cut,
pure American bullshit
and the sad part is,
is that most people seem
to have been indoctrinated
to believe that bullshit
only comes from
certain places,
certain sources,
advertising, politics,
salesmen, not true,
bullshit is everywhere.
Bullshit is rampant.
Parents are full of shit,
teachers are
full of shit,
clergymen are
full of shit
and law enforcement
people are full of shit.
This entire country,
this entire country is
completely full of shit
and always has been
from the Declaration
of Independence
of the Constitution to
the Star Spangled Banner
it's still nothing more
than one big steaming pile
of red, white and blue
all American bullshit
because think of
how we started.
Think of that.
This country was founded
by a group of slave owners
who told us all men
are created equal.
Oh yeah, all
men except for
Indians and niggers
and women right?
Always like to use
that authentic
American language.
This was a small
group of unelected,
white male, land
holding, slave owners
who also suggested
their class
be the only one
allowed to vote.
Now that is what's known
as being stunningly
and embarrassingly
full of shit.
And I think, I
think Americans
really show their
ignorance when they say
they want their
politicians to be honest.
What are these fucking
creedents talking about?
If honesty were suddenly
introduced into
American life
the whole system
would collapse.
No one would
no what to do.
Honesty would fuck
this country up.
And I think deep down
Americans know that.
That's why they elected
and re-elected
Bill Clinton.
That's right.
Because, because
the American people
liked their bullshit
right out front
where they can get a
good strong whiff of it.
Clinton might
be full of shit
but at least he
lets you know it.
Dole tried to
hide it didn't he?
Dole kept saying, I'm
a plain and honest man.
Bullshit.
People don't believe that.
What did Clinton say?
He said, Hi folks.
I'm completely full shit
and how do you like that?
And the people said,
You know something?
At least he's honest.
At least he's honest
about being completely
full of shit.
It's just like the
business world.
Same as business.
Everybody knows by
now all businessmen
are completely
full of shit.
Just the worse kind
of low life criminal,
cocksuckers you could
ever want to run into.
The fucking piece
of shit businessman.
And the proof of it,
the proof of it is
they don't even
trust each other.
They don't trust
one another.
When a businessman
sets down
and negotiates a deal
the first thing he
does is automatically
assume that the other guy
is a complete lying prick
who's trying to fuck
him out of his money.
So he's got to do
everything he can
to fuck the other guy
a little bit faster
and a little bit harder.
And he's got to do it
with a big smile
on his face.
You know that big
bullshit businessman smile
and if you're a
customer whoa,
that's when you get
the really big smile.
Customer always gets
the really big smile
as the businessman
carefully
positions himself
directly behind
the customer
and unzips his pants
and proceeds to
service the account.
I'm servicing
this account.
This customer
needs service.
Now you know
what they mean.
Now you know what they
mean when they say,
We specialize in
customer service.
Whoever coined the phrase,
"let the buyer beware"
was probably bleeding
from the asshole.
But that's business.
That's business.
But in the bullshit
department,
in the bullshit department
a businessman
can't hold a candle
to a clergyman.
Cause I got to tell
you the truth folks,
I got to tell
you the truth,
when it comes to bullshit,
big time, major
league bullshit
you have to stand in awe,
in awe of the
all time champion
of false promises and
exaggerated claims
religion,
no contest.
No contest.
Religion,
religion easily has
the greatest bullshit
story ever told.
Think about it.
Religion has actually
convinced people
that there's an invisible
man living in the sky
who watches
everything you do,
every minute of every day
and the invisible man
has a special list
of ten things he does
not want you to do.
And if you do any
of these ten things
he has a special place
full of fire and smoke
and burning and
torture and anguish
where he will send
you to live and suffer
and burn and choke
and scream and cry
forever and ever
till the end of time.
But he loves you.
He loves you.
He loves you and
he needs money.
He always needs money.
He's all-powerful, all
perfect, all knowing
and all wise somehow
just can't handle money.
Religion takes in
billions of dollars,
they pay no taxes,
and they always
need a little more.
Now you talk about a
good bullshit story,
holy shit!
Thank you.
Thank you.
But... thank you very much.
But I want you to know,
I want you to
know something,
this is sincere,
I want you to know
when it comes to
believing in God
I really tried.
I really, really tried.
I tried to believe
that there is a God
who created each of us
in his own image
and lightness,
loves us very much
and keeps a close
eye on things,
I really tried
to believe that.
But I got to tell you
the longer you live,
the more you look around,
the more you realize
something is fucked up.
Something is wrong here.
War, disease, death,
destruction, hunger,
filth, poverty, torture,
crime, corruption
and the Ice Capades
something is
definitely wrong.
This is not good work.
If this is the
best God can do
I am not impressed.
Results like these
do not belong
on the resume of
a supreme being.
This is the kind of
shit you'd expect
from an office temp
with a bad attitude.
And just between you and
me, between you and me
in any decently
run universe
this guy would have been
out on his all-powerful
ass a long time ago.
And by the way,
I say this guy because
I firmly believe,
looking at these results,
that if there is a God
it has to be a man.
No woman could
or would ever
fuck things up like this.
So, so,
lf,
If there is a
God, if there is,
I think most reasonable
people might agree
that he's at least
incompetent and maybe,
just maybe doesn't
give a shit.
Doesn't give a shit,
which I admire
in a person
and which would
explain a lot
of these bad results.
So rather than
be just another
mindless religious robot,
mindlessly and aimlessly
and blindly believing
that all of this
is in the hands
of some spooky
incompetent father figure
who doesn't give a shit,
I decided to look around
for something
else to worship.
Something I could
really count on
and immediately I
thought of the sun.
Happened like that.
Overnight I became
a sun worshiper.
Well not overnight,
you can't see
the sun at night
but first thing
the next morning
I became a sun worshiper.
Several reasons,
first of all I
can see the sun
okay?
Yeah.
Unlike some other
God's I could mention,
I can actually
see the sun.
I'm big on that.
If I can see something,
I don't know,
it kind of helps the
creditability along you know?
So everyday I
can see the sun
as it gives me
everything I need
heat, light, food,
flowers in the park,
reflections on
the lake,
an occasional skin
cancer but hey
at least there were
no crucifixions
and were not setting
people on fire
simply because they
don't agree with us.
Sun worship is
fairly simple,
there's no mystery,
no miracles,
no pageantry, no
one asks for money,
there are no
songs to learn
and we don't have
special building
where we all gather once a
week to compare clothing.
And the best thing,
the best thing
about the sun
it never tells
me I'm unworthy.
Doesn't tell me
I'm a bad person
who needs to be saved.
Hasn't said an
unkind word.
Treats me fine.
So I worship the sun
but I don't
pray to the sun
know why?
I wouldn't presume
on our friendship.
It's not polite.
I've often thought
people treat God
rather rudely don't you?
Asking up trillions and
trillions of prayers everyday.
Asking and pleading
and begging for favors.
Do this, give me that,
I need a new car,
I want a better job
and most of this praying
takes place on Sunday,
his day off.
It's not nice and it's
no way to treat a friend.
But people do pray
and they pray
for a lot of
different things.
You know you're sister needs
an operation on her crotch.
Your brother was arrested
for defecating in a mall.
But most of all you'd
really like to fuck
that hot little red head
down at the
convenient store.
You know the one
with the eye patch
and the clubfoot huh?
Can you pray for that?
I think you'd have to.
And I say fine, pray
for anything you want,
pray for anything but
what about the
divine plan?
Remember that?
The divine plan;
long time ago God
made a divine plan.
Gave it a lot of thought,
decided it was a good
plan, put into practice
and for billions and
billions of years
the divine plan has
been doing just fine.
Now you come along and
pray for something.
Well suppose the
thing you want
isn't in God's
divine plan.
What do you
want him to do
change his plan
just for you?
Doesn't it seem a
little arrogant?
It's a divine plan.
What's the use
of being God
if every run down schmuck
with a two-dollar
prayer book
can come along and
fuck up your plan?
And here's
something else,
another problem
you might have,
suppose your prayers
aren't answered,
what do you say?
Well it's God's will.
Thy will be done.
Fine but if
it's God's will
and he's going to do
what he wants to anyway
why the fuck bother
praying in the first place?
Seems like a big
waste of time to me.
Couldn't you just
skip the praying part
and go right to his will?
It's all very confusing.
So to get around
a lot of this
I decided to
worship the sun
but as I said I don't
pray to the sun.
You know who I pray to?
Joe Peshi.
Joe Peshi.
Joe Peshi.
Two reasons, first of all
I think he's a good actor
okay?
To me that counts.
Second,
he looks like a guy who
can get things done.
Joe Peshi doesn't
fuck around.
Doesn't fuck around.
In fact,
in fact, Joe Peshi
came through
on a couple of things that
God was having trouble with.
For years I asked
God to do something
about my noisy neighbor
with the barking dog,
Joe Peshi straightened
that cocksucker out
with one visit.
It's amazing what
you can accomplish
with a simple
baseball bat.
So I've been praying to
Joe for about a year now
and I noticed something.
I noticed that
all the prayers
I used to offer to God
and all the prayers I
now offer to Joe Peshi
are being
answered at about
the same fifty
percent rate.
Half the time I
get what I want,
half the time I don't.
Same as God, fifty-fifty.
Same as the
four-leaf clover
and the horseshoe,
the wishing well and
the rabbit's foot.
Same as the Mojo man.
Same as the Voodoo lady
who tells you your fortune
by squeezing the
goat's testicles,
it's all the
same fifty-fifty.
So just pick your
superstition, sit back,
make a wish and
enjoy yourself
and for those of you
who look to the Bible
for a moral lessons
and literary qualities
I might suggest
a couple of other
stories for you.
You might want to look
at the Three Little Pigs,
that's a good one.
Has a nice happy ending.
I'm sure you'll like that.
Then there's Little
Red Riding Hood
although it does have
that X-rated part
where the big bad wolf
actually eats
the grandmother,
which I didn't care
for by the way.
And finally I've often
always drawn a great deal
of moral comfort
from Humpty Dumpty.
The part I like the best,
all the king's horses
and all the king's men
couldn't put Humpty Dumpty
back together again.
That's because there
is no Humpty Dumpty
and there is no God.
None, not one, no
God, never was.
In fact, I'm going
to put it this way,
if there is a God,
if there is a God
may he strike this
audience dead.
See nothing happened.
Everybody's
okay all right.
Tell you what,
tell you what I'll
raise the stakes.
I'll raise the
stakes a little bit;
if there is a God may
he strike me dead.
See nothing
happened wait
I got a little
cramp in my leg
and my balls hurt.
Plus I'm blind.
Now I'm okay again,
must have been
Joe Peshi.
God Bless Joe Peshi.
Thank you all very much.
Joe bless you.
Thank you all very much.
I appreciate it.
Bye bye.
Have fun.
Good.
Thank you very much.
Have a good time,
Have a good
time, thank you.