Galfisk eier DEG

I tiltaksløshetens navn poster jeg alle mine favorittvitser/historier av yndlingskomikerne mine. Mhm. Oppkast er kjipt. Vi begynner med Bill Hicks:

I was just down in Dallas, Texas. You know, you can go down there and to Dealey Plaza where Kennedy was assassinated. And you can actually go to the sixth floor of the Schoolbook Depository. It’s a museum called … “The Assassination Museum”. I think they named it that after the assassination. I can’t be too sure of the chronology here, but … anyway, they have the window set up to look exactly like it did on that day. And it’s really accurate, you know, ’cause Oswald’s not in it.

Not all drugs are good. Some … are great.

People come up to me and say, “What’s wrong?” “Nothing.” “Well, it takes more energy to frown than it does to smile.” “Yeah, you know it takes more energy to point that out than it does to leave me alone?”

Non-smokers die every day. Sleep tight!
See, I know you entertain some kind of eternal life fantasy because you’ve chosen not to smoke; let me be the first to pop that fucking bubble and send you hurtling back to reality – because you’re dead too. And you know what doctors say: “Shit, if only you’d smoked, we’d have the technology to help you. It’s you people dying from nothing who are screwed.”

Your denial is beneath you, and thanks to the use of hallucinogenic drugs, I see through you.

I’ll show you politics in America. Here it is, right here. “I think the puppet on the right shares my beliefs.” “I think the puppet on the left is more to my liking.” “Hey, wait a minute, there’s one guy holding out both puppets!”

Wouldn’t you like to see a positive LSD story on the news? To hear what it’s all about, perhaps? Wouldn’t that be interesting? Just for once?
“Today, a young man on acid realized that all matter is merely energy condensed to a slow vibration … that we are all one consciousness experiencing itself subjectively. There’s no such thing as death, life is only a dream, and we’re the imagination of ourselves. Here’s Tom with the weather.”

“Today a young man on acid, thought he could fly, jumped off a building, what a tragedy.” What a dick! If he thought he could fly, why didn’t he take off from the ground?

Tell you, the worst kind of non-smokers’ the kind where you’re smoking and they just walk up to you … [begynner å hoste en irriterende jeg-vil-ha-deg-til-å-slutte-hoste] I always say, “Shit, you’re lucky you don’t smoke. That’s some cough you got there, dude. I’m smoking, you’re coughing. Wow.” That’s kind of cruel, man, going up to a smoker and coughing. Shit! Do you go up to crippled people dancing too, you fucks? “Hey, Mr. Wheelchair. What’s your problem? Come on ironside, race ya!”

I have a scoop for you. I stole his act. I camouflaged it with punchlines, and to really throw people off, I did it before he did.
- om Denis Leary’s GANSKE like stand-up rutine.

Not only do I think pot should be legalized; I think it should be mandatory. (mocks driver honking horn in traffic) “Shut up and smoke that, its the law” “I’m sorry officer, I was taking life seriously for a second. Who’s hungry”

Yay!