George Carlin - Napalm and Silly Putty

The police in Los Angeles said recently that some man had been stabbed in the San Pedro area. Believe me, I know how painful that can be; I was once bitten there by a dog. It’s especially painful when you go to the bathroom.

Doesn’t Jonesboro sound to you like a place where everyone has a drug habit?

Gimme a New One

I love my dog. I love all my dogs. Every dog I ever had, I still love ’em. And in my life, believe me, I have had me a bunch of goddamn dogs. Because you keep on gettin’ a new one, don’t ya? It’s true. As life goes on, you keep gettin’ one new dog after another. That’s the whole secret of life. Life is a series of dogs.

Sometimes you can get a dog that looks exactly like the one you had before. It’s true. If you shop around a little, you can find you a dog identical to your former dog. You just bring the dead one into the pet shop, throw him up on the counter, and say, “Gimme another one of these.” And, by God, they’ll give you a carbon copy of your exgoddamn dog. And that’s real handy, because then you don’t have to go around your house changin’ all the pictures.

That’s the nice thing about dogs. They don’t live too long, and you can go and get a new one.

Doggie Nose Best

Most people know the best size dog to have is a knee-high, midsize dog. It’s the ideal pet. Because whenever some nice lady comes to visit you, the first thing that dog does is put his nose right in her crotch.

“Hi, Mrs. Effington.”

“Hi, Stuart, how’s the…oooooh! Ooooooh! What a friendly dog. Oooohhhh! You know, I’ll bet he smells my dog.”

“I’m not sure, Mrs. Effington. Judgin’ by where he’s placed his nose, I’d say he’s got a completely different animal in mind. You don’t by any chance own a pussy, do ya?”

“No. I mean… well, no!”

Some people get embarrassed by that nose-crotch behavior. The dog owner will often fall all over himself trying to save face.

“Stop that, Bongo! Stop it! I’m awfully sorry, Marzell. He’s usually so polite. You must a not bathed.”

Not me, folks; I never apologize. I’m a fun-lovin’ guy. I say, “Get in there, Bongo! Get yourself some of that. Sniff it out. Listen, Marzell, would you mind spreadin’ your legs a little bit, so he can get some sniffin’ room? Plant your feet about three feet apart, would ya? That’s it. Good. Air that thing out. Okay! So, how’s everything goin’ down at the church? Good. All right, Bongo, now go around back and sniff that other thing. Sorry, Marzell, there’s two smells he likes, and one of ’em’s in the back. What’s that? You gotta go? Well, I’m awfully sorry. Listen, before you go, you wouldn’t be willin’ to let Bongo have about thirty seconds on your leg, would ya? No, I didn’t think so. Okay, no problem. You take care, and tell the reverend Bongo says hello.”

Those dogs are really great. They help to break the ice when a new neighbor comes to call.

“Hi, we’re the Belchingtons. Ooooooh! What’s his name?”

“Ballsniffer. He’s a crotch hound. Lemme know if you wanna get circumcised; he’s on duty’ round the clock.”

Give the Little Dog a Big Hand

When they show a dog on TV, do you try to get your dog to look at him? Don’t you want your dog to see the dog on TV? I do.

“Look at the doggie! Look at the dog! Over there! On TV! Look!”

He won’t look. Even if you try to twist his head around and point it toward the TV, he won’t look.

“Over there! Turn your head! Look! On TV! Look at the dog! Goddamn it, you asshole! Look at the fuckin’ dog!!”

They never look where you want. If you point at something, they just stare at your hand. You try to show them something interesting, and they think you’re showing them your hand.

“There he goes again, showing me his hand. Why does he do that? I guess he’s really proud of it. Uh-oh! Now he’s twisting my head around. Owww! Jeez, what did I do now?”

“Well, for one thing you completely missed the dog on TV.”

A Cracker Jack Meal

A long time ago I had a little dog named Tippy. And one time when I was doin’ drugs, I fed Tippy a whole bunch of Cracker Jack, because that’s what I was havin’. Cracker Jack and tap water. Seemed like a reasonable meal to me. And even though Tippy was a little dog, she ate about two boxes of Cracker Jack. And the next day, when I took her out for a walk, she squatted and strained and grunted and shook, and you know what? By God, instead of taking a shit, she took a Cracker Jack! Right in front of my eyes I saw fully formed, undigested Cracker Jack coming out of my dog!

Well, you know me, I’m a practical guy. I kept waitin’ for the little surprise to come out, hopin’ it wouldn’t be a whistle or a bird call. I figure there’s a certain amount of basic hygiene you can’t ignore.

Did your dog ever eat a whole bunch of brightly colored balloons, and when he took a shit it turned out to be real festive looking? Or maybe at Christmas he’d eat some tinsel off the tree and take a dump near the manger, and it would glisten with light from the yule log, filling your heart with Christmas spirit? Isn’t it great?

Dogs are a constant source of entertainment. Did you ever have a dog who ate cat turds? Some of them do. Some dogs will eat cat turds. Of course, you gotta have a cat; you can’t be goin’ down to the supermarket and buyin’ cat turds.

But it’s true. Sometimes a dog will eat cat turds. Don’t let him lick your face that day. Get him a bottle of Listerine, and make him gargle. Pour it down his throat and tell him to howl. Then you can let him lick you.

One more thing about dog chow, and this includes a little household hint that’ll help you keep your lawn neat and clean. Feed your dog rubber bands. Just mix ten or eleven rubber bands in with his food. He won’t care. He’ll eat anything as long as it’s mixed in with something he likes.

Feed him a bunch of rubber bands, and then when he takes a shit, you’ll notice there’s a handy little rubber loop stickin’ out of one end of the turd. Then, all you gotta do is pick up the loop, swing that turd around, and throw it in the next yard. Tell your neighbor it’s a new thing: flying lawn food.

I don’t have nice days anymore. I don’t bother with that. I’m beyond the nice day; I feel I’ve outgrown the whole idea. Besides, I’ve already had my share of nice days. Why should I be hogging them all? Let someone else have a few.

Naturally, everyone still wants me to have one. Every person I meet wants me to have a nice day. Especially clerks.

“Have a nice day.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You wanna gimme my fuckin’ change, please? I’m triple-parked!”

Some of them are really insistent.

“I said have a nice day! Do it!”

“All right, all right! I’ll give it a shot.”

That’s the trouble with “Have a nice day.” It puts all the pressure on you. Now you have to go out and somehow arrange to have a positive experience. All because of some loose-lipped clerk.

Have a nice day, indeed! Maybe I don’t feel like having a nice day. Maybe—just maybe—I’ve had twenty-seven nice days in a row, and I’m ready for a crappy day. You never hear that, do you?

“Have a crappy day!”

“Why, thank you. Right back at ya! And to your wonderful family as well!”

A crappy day; that would be easy. No trouble at all. No planning involved. Just get out of bed and start moving around.

I think what bothers me most about the whole “nice day” thing is that word “nice.” It’s a weak word. It doesn’t have a lot of character. Nice.