By CHIP RUSSO
First time I heard about 9/11 I thought someone was talkin’ about the number of times a day my wife whines “Does this make me look fat?”
Guys on the news talkin’ about Iraq. Thought I could relate. I’m thinkin’– and any guy whose married’ll tell ya I ain’t kiddin’– “me too, Hell, I-raq up so many phone bills a month havin’ my wife blabberin’ to family I ain’t ever even heard of”. Wah-Pow!
Thought I could relate. Turns out they were talkin’ ’bout somethin’ else.
What’s a guy gotta do, ehn?
Lotta talk these days about government’s plans to invade Iran. Heard a fella on the bus today was talkin’ about Iran, wasn’t payin’ much attention, thought he was tellin’ me what I done last night when I saw that my WIFE was comin’ home. Zambino!
Away from her.
Jesus you people. I ain’t kiddin’.
North Korea? Now don’t get me started on North Korea. Everyone all worried about Nuclear Explosions? See my wife in the morning before coffee and talk to me about Nuclear Explosions. Coffee machine broke one time, we had a Level Three Code Red Alert explosion of the NUCLEAR FAMILY. Boom-Bamino! No seriously, I ain’t kiddin’.
Searchin’ for biological weapons? How about my wife’s BIOLOGICAL CLOCK! “I want a baby!” Those four words pack enough punch to scare away any terrorist I tell ya. “Ah, Pleasa Missa Boosha, I-a-do anytin’ you say, pleasa jussa no more talk of Baybies!”
Talk about Weapon of Mass Destruction. Everyone’s all afraid of WMDs. “Ooh WMDs, WMDs, we have to find the WMDs”. DO you want to know what three letters I am afraid of: “P.M.S.” Ba-Zow! Now that is capable of some real mass destruction.
You guys hear about Secretary of State Colin Powell? Tell you what I don’t like, when the doctor’s Secretary tells me he’s gotta check the State of MY colon. Motherfucker comes in with a rod the size of my arm, and I’m thinkin’ that’s goin’ up where?
And how ’bout that Secretary of Defence Donald Rumsfeld. You know who’d make a great secretary of Defence? Ronald McDonald Rumsfeld. I watched a show about Ronald McDonald, it said he has seven kids. Seven kids. I don’t believe it, no man with seven kids would ever make somethin’ called a “Happy Meal.” Ga-Zang! Do you think McDonalds will ever come up with a “Sad Meal”? How about a “Kiss My Fat Ass Meal” for when your wife asks you to take care of dinner. Pop round to McDonalds pick up the “Kiss My Fat Ass Meal” Special Deluxe: Two burgers, two fries, two sodas, one middle finger and a stick of fucking dynamite.
A lot of people these days are saying Bush is getting out of control. I keep thinkin’– Bush that’s gettin’ outta control, Bush thats gettin’ outta control, hey, sounds familiar– sounds like my wife!
Lazy bitch ain’t done gardenin’ in weeks! Wah-Pang!
See cause you all thought it was going to be a joke about her pussy…
AND IT IS! Ga-Blammo!
I ain’t kiddin’.
And how ’bout old George Bush and Dick Cheney. Bush and Dick. Bush and Dick. Hey does that sound familiar?
Hell I wish it did – I ain’t had sex in years, and I ain’t seen my dick in so long, the sorry motherfucker must have shriveled all the way up into my brain.
Hear a lot on the news these days about global warning. Tell ya what, I’ll give everyone HERE a global warning not to talk to my wife when she’s…
Wha? Warming? What the hell is that? Are you calling me a warm-up? Who the fuck is this guy?
Everytime I try to do a bit, a guy wants to open his fucking mouth. I’ll warm your face with my fist tough guy tell ya what. I’m trying to do a routine here, and –you know what, go fuck yourself.I’ve been here at Chuckle’s for fifteen years now and I get this toadstool givin’ me disrespect.
What the hell kind of shirt do you have on anyway—will you get a good look at this clown ladies and gentlemen, what kind of a jacket is that. I mean, who are you, the lead singer of GayC/DC? What happened, your mother didn’t jerk you off in the bathroom enough times? Are you George Michael or his hairdresser, I can’t tell. Did you come with that hat, Mista Potatohead, or did the kid have to buy it separately. I’m not kiddin’, who picked out that shirt, Queer Eye For The Fucking Zero?
Shut up. Alright funny man, if you’re so hilarious, why don’t you come on up here and make the audience laugh. Dressed the way you are, it’ll be easy for ya—only unlike me, you won’t need to tell any jokes.
Shut up. Ok smart guy, so what are you, some kind of astro-physicist? Well tell ya what, I’m an asstro-physicalist, which means I’ll get physical on your ass.
Shut up. No , Shut up—Somebody take my coat.
Yeah, you betta run clown, I’m going to make you wish you were dead.