How to Talk to Anyone (Junior Talker #4) by DeYtH Banger (top business books of all time TXT) 📖

Any day that combines spoiling children, corrosive food, and superstition says everything about this country anyone needs to know.

New Rule: You have to wear socks to the airport so the rest of us don’t have to look at your stanky-ass feet in the security line. Seriously, between your stinky piggies and the obese lady in the stretch pants, how am I supposed to stay erect during my security pat-down.

New Rule: There are double entendres, there are single entendres, and then there’s Britney Spears’s single “Hold It Against Me.” What’s her next song, “Put Your Penis in My Mouth”? She’s a regular Cole Porter . . . and by that I mean, a long time ago, gay men liked her.

New Rule: No more pictures of dead people in their coffins. It’s a funeral, not a “Kodak moment.” I don’t want to remember Boris Yeltsin on his back, eyes closed and lifeless. I want to remember Boris Yeltsin how he lived: on his back, eyes closed and lifeless.

New Rule: Now that the army is letting in gays and lesbians, Glee has to add at least one character who’s straight. Just for variety. My memories of high school are kind of fuzzy, but I’m pretty sure not every single human being in the building was gay. Television has an obligation to present America as it really is: ten percent gay. Ten percent real housewife. And seventy percent vampires.

CHUBBY CHECKER
 
 
New Rule: Before telling me all about your Let’s Move healthy-schools program, you have to explain why the kid in your poster has an erection


New Rule: You can’t call it coming out of the closet when the door was wide open, the closet was made of glass, and everyone could see you in there having gay sex. Clay Aiken says he came out because he didn’t want to lie to his infant son. Dude, even the baby knew you were gay. I can’t wait to see next week’s issue of People.


New Rule: Condoms are not sex toys. Trojan has released a new line of condoms that vibrate and heat up. Look, condoms keep people from getting AIDS and the clap. Haven’t they done enough? You want to improve condoms? Invent a wrapper guys can open before they lose their hard-on.

New Rule: Instead of getting me the new steering-wheel desk for my birthday, save the $19.99 and just write “I hope you die” on a card.

New Rule: Don’t bring wine to my dinner party. Because then if you drink it, it’s not really a gift, is it? But if I choose a different wine, you’re thinking, “What the hell’s wrong with the bottle I brought?” And when you bring wine and then say, “I don’t drink,” what kind of condescending crap is that? Your cute little gift is such a minefield of potential awkwardness; thank God I’m already high. Chapter 9 - ReVeAL (George Carlin Style)

 The Seven Words You Can Never Say on Television

by George Carlin

 

 

 

I love words. I thank you for hearing my words.

I want to tell you something about words that I think is important.

They're my work, they're my play, they're my passion.

Words are all we have, really. We have thoughts but thoughts are fluid, y'know like, woo woo woo woo, POP! Then we assign a word to a thought and we're stuck with that word for that thought, so be careful with words.

I like to think that yeah, the same words that hurt can heal, it's a matter of how you pick them.

There are some people that aren't into all the words.

There are some that would have you not use certain words.

Yeah, there are 400,000 words in the English language and there are 7 of them that you can't say on television. What a ratio that is!

399,993 to 7. They must really be bad. They'd have to be outrageous to be separated from a group that large.

All of you over here, you 7, baaad words!

That's what they told us they were, remember? "That's a bad word!" No bad words, bad thoughts, bad intentions, and words!

You know the 7, don't you, that you can't say on television?
"Shit, piss, fuck, cunt, cocksucker, motherfucker, and tits."

Those are the heavy seven. Those are the ones that'll infect your soul, curve your spine, and keep the country from winning the war.

"Shit, piss, fuck, cunt, cocksucker, motherfucker, and tits," wow!

And "tits" doesn't even belong on the list, y'know? Man!

That's such a friendly sounding word.

It sounds like a nickname, right? "Hey, Tits, come here, man. Hey! Hey Tits, meet Toots. Toots, Tits. Tits, Toots."

It sounds like a snack, doesn't it? Yes, I know, it is a snack. But I don't mean your sexist snack! I mean New Nabisco Tits!, and new Cheese Tits, Corn Tits, Pizza Tits, Sesame Tits, Onion Tits, Tater Tits. "Betcha Can't Eat Just One!"

That's true. I usually switch off.

But I mean, that word does not belong on the list. Actually none of the words belong on the list, but you can understand why some of them are there.

I'm not completely insensitive to people's feelings. I can understand why some of those words got on the list, like cocksucker and motherfucker. Those are heavyweight words. There's a lot going on there. Besides the literal translation and the emotional feeling. I mean, they're just busy words. There's a lot of syllables to contend with.

And those Ks, those are aggressive sounds. They just jump out at you like "coCKsuCKer, motherfuCKer. coCKsuCKer, motherfuCKer."

It's like an assaualt on you. So I can dig that. We mentioned shit earlier, and 2 of the other 4-letter Anglo-Saxon words are piss and cunt, which go together of course. A little accidental humor there. The reason that piss and cunt are on the list is because a long time ago, there were certain ladies that said "Those are the two I am not going to say. I don't mind fuck and shit but 'P' and 'C' are out."Which led to such stupid sentences as "Okay you fuckers, I'm going to tinkle now."

And, of course, the word fuck. I don't really, well that's more accidental humor, I don't wanna get into that now because I think it takes too long. But I do mean that. I think the word fuck is a very important word. It's the beginning of life, yet it is a word we use to hurt one another quite often. People much wiser than I am have said, "I'd rather have my son watch a film with two people making love than two people trying to kill one another." I, of course, can agree. It is a great sentence. I wish I knew who said it first. I agree with that but I like to take it a step further. I'd like to substitute the word Fuck for the word Kill in all of those movie cliches we grew up with.

"Okay, Sheriff, we're gonna fuck you now, but we're gonna fuck you slow."

So maybe next year I'll have a whole fuckin' ramp on the N word.
I hope so. Those are the 7 you can never say on television, under any circumstances. You just cannot say them ever ever ever. Not even clinically. You cannot weave them in on the panel with Doc, and Ed, and Johnny. I mean, it is just impossible. Forget those 7. They're out.

But there are some 2-way words, those double-meaning words. Remember the ones you giggled at in sixth grade? "...And the cock crowed three times." "Hey, the cock crowed 3 times. Ha ha ha ha. Hey, it's in the Bible. Ha ha ha ha." There are some 2-way words, like it's okay for Curt Gowdy to say "Roberto Clemente has 2 balls on him," but he can't say, "I think he hurt his balls on that play, Tony. Don't you? He's holding them. He must've hurt them, by God." And the other 2-way word that goes with that one is prick. It's okay if it happens to your finger. You can prick your finger but don't finger your prick. No, no.

 

 

 

 

 

Stupid Bullshit on the Phone

by George Carlin

 

 

 

Now, you wouldn't know it, for some of the things I've said over the years...but I like people. I do. I like people, but I like them in short bursts. I don't like people for extended periods of time. I'm all right with them for a little while...but once you get up past, around, minute, minute and a half...I gotta get the fuck outta there.

And my reason for this...my reason is for one that you may share, possibly: I have a very low tolerance level for stupid bullshit. That's all. Stupid bullshit, you know? And everyonewants to tell you their stupid bullshit. And a lot of them don't know when to stop talking; you ever run into that guy? Doesn't know when to stop talking; just continues running at the mouth, like verbal diarrhea. Don't know when the conversation's over; stupid trivial shit you don't care anything about, things you're not even remotely interested in.

"Did I tell you about my mom and dad? Well, my mom and dad went on vacation down at Mammoth Cave, Kentucky. This was about...six years ago, I think. Seems like it was six, about six years ago...six or seven, possibly seven, could be. Somewhere in there, six, seven: more than six, less than seven. Let's call it six and a half. So my mom and dad went on vacation at Mammoth Cave, Kentucky, and my dad found a big rock. ...What he thought was a big rock; turns out it was a dinosaur turd. A petrified dinosaur turd, twenty-seven-pounder."

"You know, now that I think of it, it might have been eight years ago. That would've been close to Y2K, wouldn't it? Remember Y2K? Whatever happened? Everybody was all worried about that; nothin' ever happened. Hahahahahaha. Big fuss...nothin' ever happened! You know? God, that's strange, you know? So let's say...we'll say it's eight years ago, it was either eight or five."

"So my dad gave my mom this big turd; he said, 'Here, Mom, this is a big dinosaur turd; put it in your purse and take that home.' My mom said, 'Dad, I don't think this is a dinosaur turd; this thing is still warm. Whoever dropped this thing is still walking around in here, and we better get the fuck outta this cave!'"

"Nine years ago! Nine. I know it was nine because my wife was pregnant with our first boy, Mak Mudi Ben'el Said ben Salaam. And he's ten now. ...Or is he? He's eleven, maybe he's eleven. He's either eleven or five."

And while all this is going on, you're searching through your mind for something diplomatic and tactical and graceful that you can say to help end the conversation. And all I can ever come up with is, "BLOW IT OUT YOUR ASS! BLOW IT OUT YOUR ASS! BLOW IT OUT YOUR ASS! BLOW IT OUT YOUR ASS! BLOW IT OUT YOUR ASS!" ...You know?

But you can't say that. You...good manners don't permit it. You have to find another way, and I go to body language. I try to use my body language to show that the conversation's over. I find myself leaning at a forty-five degree angle...trying to indicate the direction I'd like to go...if this person would just shut the fuck up. And then I might even give them a verbal cue: "Surgery! Surgery, I'm late for surgery! I'm