Robin Williams: Live on Broadway Page #6

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And people in Missouri went:

"I'm sorry, John, but the dead man scares me less than you

do."

Here's the drill for me. You know what's strange?

It doesn't scare me that W. waved at Stevie Wonder.

That's OK.

Stevie's only been blind since birth!

And there's W. going: "Stevie !"

Even Stevie Wonder's going, "Is that mother f***er waving at

me?

Does he think I'm looking for him? Goddamn!"

No! What scares me

is that W almost died from a f***ing pretzel.

We have billions of dollars in national defense.

They want billions more for national security.

And he almost f***ing goes down from snack food!

Secret Service is going: "Games over, man!"

"Gilligan's down. Gilligan's down."

"Step away from the chip, sir!"

We have to have people go: "Hydrate, you bastard!"

His own dogs didn't give a sh*t. They were licking him for

the salt.

You need a dog that cares. A dog like Lassie.

"What's wrong, Lassie? The President swallowed something

and you did the Heimlich?"

"What else, girl?"

"Mr Channey is meeting with the Enron people?"

"An Enron employee is secretary of the Navy?"

"What about the Harken loan?"

"Sorry, girl, we gonna have to put you down."

Oh, Kenny Boy. The Feds, the Feds are coming.

Welcome, boys and girls, to Disney's new ride.

Investment pirates of the Caribbean.

Your money checks in, it doesn't check out.

Sometimes you catch George unprepared and he says unusual

things.

- Mr Bush, what are we gonna do? - We're gonna conduct a

crusade.

And everybody in the room went...

All throughout the Middle East...

Hide the women and children and the number zero, they're

coming!

And you can't bomb the Afghanis back to the stone age

because they'll go: "Upgrade. Fun!"

Today's bombing raid has enlarged the hole from yesterday's

bombing raid.

We have moved trouble from here, to here.

In the upper right corner, possible member of the Talibans,

or "concubine", we're not sure.

We did fire the million dollars cruise missile and we're

successful.

Operation "Extreme Redundancy" is carrying on!

Then we dropped bombs, food, food, bombs.

And here's the fun part:

some of the bombs were little yellow bombs...

and the food packages were little yellow packages.

So now you're playing "Survivor: The Real Game."

"I was here yesterday... I'm gonna go for this one today..."

And what was in those packages?

Pop-Tarts, peanut butter,

all you need is a honey-baked ham and you'll have a Redneck

Christmas.

Who dropped the honey-baked ham on the Muslims?

Why are we dropping Pop-Tarts and peanut butter on

Afghanistan?

Number one:
it taste a sh*t load better than dirt.

Number two and more importantly:

It's very difficult to have a call to Jihad

with a mouth full of peanut butter.

Secondly... or thirdly, for those keeping track...

Afghanistan is a hashish smoking culture.

And everyone who's ever been a friend of the Hooka will go:

"Pop-Tarts!"

Yes! Got milk?

We're trying to win hearts and minds. How do we do that?

We build an amusement park "Muslim Mountain" with Gadafi

ducks? No!

Do we have a wet burger contest? No!

Do we play Cat Stevens' records all day? "F*** off!"

Drop Martha Stuart's titts? No!

Do we have a children show called "Saudi Dudi"? No!

What we must do is go the way you gotta get a sister. You

know?

You gotta get a sister from Brooklin.

You know what I mean, aha, girl? You know what I'm sayin'?

One of those b*tches you see on Jerry Springer.

Drop her ass in Kabul, she'll go:

"Girl, you don't have to dress like a mother f***ing

beekeeper!"

"You don't have to be Casper's b*tch, forget all that!"

If he picks up a rock, 'cause you're talking to another man,

you pick a bigger rock and say: "Hit the fan, mother f***er!"

He tries to cut off your clitoris, make you a Barbie doll,

you grab a knife and say: "Lorena Bobbit time!"

"Don't make me, 'cause I'll go Oprah on your ass. Don't make

me!"

We're dealing with fundamentalists...

Amish are fundamentalists, but they don't try

and hijack a carriage at needlepoint.

And, if you're ever in Amish country and you see a man

with his hand buried in a horse's ass, that's a mechanic.

Who are we looking for?

Ossama Bin Laden, one of children.

Even Freud would say: "He has issues."

What does he look like without the beard?

Howard Stern, Barbra Streisand? I don't know, I don't care!

I know this:
he's a six foot five Arab on dialysis...

Why is that so f***ing hard to find?

Look for somebody attached to their luggage.

I also know this. When you see the tapes of him, you see a

psychopath.

Wait a minute. We have some of our own!

Theodor Kasinsky, sitting around with nothing to do.

Ted's played "A Beautiful Mind", the home game.

You give Ted a mailing list and some tools...

Ted, these people have been bad.

- Are they bad? - Very bad!

- I just want a few things. - I know you do!

Or we get Charles Manson. Great organizer, incredible with

chicks.

You can't use him.

Chucky all the time comes out for parole

with a swastika on his forehead.

- I'm better. - In many ways, yeah.

- What would you do if you got out? - I'd kill everybody.

What are we dealing with?

One of the fundamental things is in a Jihad.

Sounds like a country western term like Jeeha.

And if you are in a Jihad and you kill an infidel

which, I'm sad to say, is all of us

and you yourself die...

you go to heaven and you are greeted

by dark-haired virgins.

Now everyone who's ever been with one virgin is going...

"I don't know..."

"For my talent portion..."

Recently, there was a article in the New York Times,

a Koran scholar said:

"The actual translation is not dark-haired virgins,

but crystal clear raisins."

Slight difference in interpretation, really.

It's like instead of "Thy shall not kill" is "Thy shall not

wear a kilt".

And the Scottish are going: "F*** off!"

Imagine some guy blows himself up, goes to the gates of

Heaven:

- Where are my b*tches? - Here are your raisins.

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