You take all these heavy-breathing fun-seekers, and you stick them in Wyoming. And you let them suck, fuck, and fondle. You let them blow, chew, sniff, lick, whip, gobble, and cornhole one other . . . until their testicles are whistlin’ “O Come All Ye Faithful.” Then you turn on the cameras, and you’ve got . . . the Semen Channel! And don’t forget our corporate sponsor. We’re going to let Budweiser put little logo patches on the rapists’ pants: “This pud’s for you!”

Next group: Drug addicts and alcoholics. Not all of them, don’t get nervous. Just the ones who are making life difficult for at least one other person. And we’re not gonna bother first offenders; people deserve a chance to clean up. So, everyone will get twelve chances to clean up. Okay okay, fifteen! Fine! That’s fair, and that’s all you get. If you can’t make it in fifteen tries, off you go . . . to Colorado! The perfect place for staying loaded.

Each week, all of the illegal drugs confiscated in the United States—at least those drugs the police and DEA don’t keep for their own personal use—will be air-dropped into Colorado. That way, everyone can stay stoned, bombed, wasted, smashed, hammered, and fucked up around the clock on another new cable channel: Shitface Central. This is the real Rocky Mountain high.

Now, I’ve saved my favorite group for last. The Maniacs and Crazy People. The ones who live out where the buses don’t run. And I always take care to distinguish between maniacs and crazy people. A maniac will beat nine people to death with a steel dildo. A crazy person will beat nine people to death with a steel dildo, but he’ll be wearing a Bugs Bunny suit at the time.

So you can’t put them all away. You have to keep some of them around just for the entertainment. Like the guy who tells you the King of Sweden is using his gallbladder as a radio transmitter to send anti-Semitic, lesbian meat loaf recipes to Marvin Hamlisch. A guy like that, you want to give him his own radio show.

No, the Maniac Farm will be used strictly for hopeless cases. Like a guy who gets a big tattoo on his chest of Madonna taking a shit. You know? Then he tells you that if he flexes certain muscles it looks like she’s wipin’ her ass. A guy like that, you wanna get him into custody as quickly as possible.

Now, for the Maniac Farm I think there’s no question we have to go with Utah. Easy to fence, and right next to Wyoming and Colorado. And Colorado is right next to? Right, Kansas! And that means that all four groups of our most amusing citizens are now in one place. Except for the big electric fences. And, folks, I think I have another one of my really good ideas for cable TV. Gates! Small sliding gates in the fences.

Think what you have here. Four groups: degenerates, predators, crackheads, and fruitcakes. All separated by 900 miles of fence. And here’s how you have some fun: every ten miles, you put a small, sliding gate in the fence. But—the gates are only ten inches wide, and they’re only opened once a month. For seven seconds.

And you know something? Fuck cable, this stuff belongs on pay-per-view. Because if those gates are only open seven seconds a month, you are gonna have some mighty interesting people trying to be first on line. Deeply disturbed, armed, cranky lunatics on drugs! You know the ones: a lot of tattoos; a lot of teeth broken off at the gum line. The true face of America. And every time you open the gates a few of the more aggressive ones are gonna slip through. The crème de la crème. The alphas! They’re gonna slip through, they’re gonna find each other, and they’re gonna cross-breed.

And pretty soon you’ll have the American melting pot: child-killers, corpse-fuckers, drug zombies, and full-blown twelve-cylinder wackaloons. All wandering the landscape in search of truth. And fun. Just like now. Everyone will have guns, everyone will have drugs, and no one will be in charge. Just like now. But Social Security will be fully funded.

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I’ve never been impressed with people who tell me what they plan to do when they go to the bathroom. Doesn’t that bother you? People who announce their intentions?

“I’ll be right back, Trevor, I’m gonna take a shit.”

“Never mind, Pietro! Do what you have to and leave me out of it. And please don’t describe it when you get back.”

[Time, among other things, passes.]

“Boy, you shoulda seen . . .”

“Never mind!”

“It set off the smoke alarm.”

“Never mind!”

“The rest room attendant passed out.”

I’ve never understood people who describe their bowel achievements. Nor have I much cared for it. Especially at a fine restaurant.

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Have you noticed that most people who are against abortion are people you wouldn’t want to fuck in the first place? Conservatives are physically unattractive and morally inconsistent. They’re obsessed with fetuses from conception to nine months, but after that they have no interest in you. None. No day care, no Head Start, no school lunch, no food stamps, no welfare, no nothin’. If you’re preborn, you’re fine; if you’re preschool, you’re fucked.

Once you leave the womb, conservatives don’t care about you until you reach military age. Then you’re just what they’re looking for. Conservatives want live babies so they can raise them to be dead soldiers.

Pro-life. How can they be pro-life when they’re killing doctors? What sort of moral philosophy is that? “We’ll do anything to save a fetus, but we might have to kill it later on if it grows up to be a doctor”? They’re not pro-life; they’re antiwoman. Simple. They’re afraid of women, and they don’t like them. They believe a woman’s primary role is to function as a brood mare for the State. If they think a fetus is more important than a woman, they should try getting a fetus to wash the shit stains out of their underwear. For no pay.

Pro-life. You don’t see many white, antiabortion women volunteering to have black fetuses transplanted into their uteruses, do you? No. You don’t see them adopting any crack babies, do you? No, that’s something Jesus would do.

And you won’t see many pro-lifers dousing themselves with kerosene and lighting themselves on fire. Remember the Buddhist monks in Vietnam? Morally committed religious people in Southeast Asia knew how to stage a protest: light yourself on fire! C’mon, you Christian crusaders, let’s see a little smoke. Let’s see if you can match that fire in your bellies.

Separate thought: Why is it when it’s a human being it’s called an abortion, and when it’s a chicken it’s called an omelet. Are we so much better than chickens? When did that happen? Name six ways we’re better than chickens. See? No one can do it. You know why? Because chickens are decent people.

You don’t see chickens hanging around in drug gangs, do you? No. You don’t see chickens strappin’ someone to a chair and hookin’ up their nuts to a car battery. And when’s the last time you heard about a chicken who came home from work and beat the shit out of his hen? Huh? It doesn’t happen. You know why? Because chickens are decent people.

Back to abortion: The central question seems to be “Are fetuses human beings?” Well, if fetuses are human beings, why aren’t they counted by the census? If fetuses are human beings, why is it there’s no funeral following a miscarriage? If fetuses are human beings, why do people say, “We have two children and one on the way,” instead of saying, “We have three children”?

Some people say life begins at conception; I say life began a billion years ago, and it’s a continuous process. And actually, it goes back farther than that. What about the carbon atoms? Human life could not exist without carbon. So is it possible that maybe we shouldn’t be burning all this coal? I don’t mean to be picky, I’m just lookin’ for a little consistency.