THE 2004 RADIO AND TELEVISION CORRESPONDENTS' DINNER: FULL TEXT OF PRESIDENT BUSH'S UPROARIOUSLY HYSTERICAL STAND-UP COMEDY ROUTINE
Remarks by the President
THE PRESIDENT: Good evening, ladies and germs! No, seriously, it's a real pleasure to be playing this room again here at the
2004 Radio and Television Correspondents' Dinner. You know the last time I was in a joint with this many Jews, it was the legal
team on my drunk driving case. No, seriously, you're a lovely audience. Well, except for Helen Thomas. Oh, come on, you know
I kid. I love Helen – fucking bitch.
I guess it's a good thing I didn't wear my Jesus costume, or security might have had to put you all down.
Get it? Y'all are "Christ-Killers"? And if I'd worn the Jesus costume, you'd have sprung up out of your seats and come at me
just like the blood-sucking Jew zombies in Mel Gibson's new movie, and then the Secret Service would have had to kill you! Ain't that funny? Hello?
Whoa. Tough crowd. I haven't played a crowd like this since I appeared in Altoona. At the morgue.
Anyway, I'm sorry Laura couldn't be here tonight. I asked her to come, but she's right in the middle of another Crest
Whitestrips® cycle, so I'm sure you understand. Besides, I think Americans ought to be proud to have a First
Lady with the unflinching courage and determination to tackle four decades' worth of Parliament Menthol buildup. Now if only
Crest would come out with some four-foot strips that melt the cottage cheese off your ass...
I'm also sorry Secretary Rumsfeld couldn't be here. You know, that guy constantly surprises me. Do you know what
his favorite TV show is? Queer Eye for the Straight Guy!
Yeah, that's a real hoot, ain't it? I wrote that one myself. Just the thought of tough old Rummy coming home from a long
day bravely wasting filthy ragheads by remote control, then kicking back to watch a pack of swishy faggots primp and
preen and throw themselves into all that ass-sex – well it cracks me up something fierce. I mean, I'm no different from
anyone – I find all that man-on-man action hot as one of Mother Welch's jalapeno shooters, but why do they have to spoil
the buzz by doing that ass-licking stuff? I can tell by the looks on your faces – especially you O'Reilly – that you
feel the same way. The funniest part is that all these queers are up to their eyeballs in great looking cock, but they never give
a thought to their impending eternal torture by Satan in a bottomless pit of red-hot pig jizz!
The rest of my cabinet could take some pointers from that Queer Eye show, too. I'm gonna have the Fab Five do a makeover on Ashcroft.
Since his doctors didn't notice it, I'm thinking maybe a pack of faggots can find that huge stick up his ass!
And you know something? I think John will get long with them queers OK. After all, the last thing any of them ever
want to see is some sweet, barely legal titty-meat.
Speaking of tits, how about that Janet Jackson? She's sure got her a big nasty tit. Did you see it? I saw it. Right there on the TV.
Big ole sloppy colored tit flopping out for all the dang world to see! I tell you what, no real Christian American believes
in the theory of so-called Evolution, but ain't one damn person on the planet that don't believe in the Theory of Gravity
after seeing that humungous nasty boobie hanging down to that bitch's waist!
Puerto Rican walks into a bar and says, "Does anyone in here want to buy some hubcaps?" And the bartender says,
"Not if they're stolen!" And so the Puerto Rican goes, "No amigo, these are all chrome!"
Who do you have to lie to in this place to get a laugh?
A priest, a Muslim cleric, and John Kerry are the last three men on a sinking ship in the middle of the ocean.
Trouble is, there's only one seat left on the last lifeboat. So the priest says, "I should be the one to live, because even though
I may rape pre-teen boys in their sweet little hinies, I have never married a ketchup heiress!" Then the Muslim cleric says, "No, it is I who should be
the one to survive, for though my religion specifically calls for the mass murder of Americans, I have never been photographed
snowboarding in Idaho!" So then John Kerry says, "What'd you say, fellas? I was so busy waffling on policy and performing abortions
on high school girls, I couldn't hear you over the sound of Hanoi Jane Fonda and me whispering in French about how I'm going
to raise taxes and spit on the proud graves of America's Vietnam war criminals!"
That was the punchline.
A feminist who?
A feminist with no makeup and hairly legs and armpits who won't stop complaining that she doesn't make as much money for doing the same job
as a dude even though the dumb broad can't benchpress anywhere near as much as him.
Yeesh. That usually kills at the Krawford Koffee Korner. Let's go back to something that works. You know Deputy
Secretary of State Richard Armitage? He likes Queer Eye for the Straight Guy, too!
Get it? He's even bigger and tougher than Rummy. I mean, do you think Deputy Secretary Armitage could even be in the same room with a
television tuned to that sodomite trash without smashing the screen to pieces with his big bare albino Incredible Hulk
hands? Hell no! Get it? HAR-HAR-HAR!
Why did the Hummer full of U.S. soldiers cross the Iraqi road?
To pass into the fatal blast radius of the improvised explosive device!
What do you get when you cross me with the hunt for Iraqi weapons of mass destruction?
585 dead guys!
Did you hear the one about the dead American GI who showed up at the Pearly Gates?
Saint Peter said, "I told all you fuckers you should have gone to Alabama for Guard duty instead!"
What do Iraqi weapons of mass destruction and American credibility have in common?
They don't exist!
(Blizzard of Food Unleashed.)
Thank you, thank you! You've been a fabulous audience! Don't forget to tip Jenna by not throwing out your unfinished drinks. Good night!