Sam Kinison: The Original South Park Republican

Sam Kinison has always been my favorite stand-up comedian. While he was vulgar, grossly obscene, shockingly cruel, sometimes blasphemous, & outrageously offensive, he was also wickedly funny and delighted in skewering politically correct targets that few other people had the guts to take on.

While Kinison is certainly no role model and would surely offend -- well, just about everybody on both sides of the political spectrum -- I wanted to share a little bit of his humor with you because I find Kinison funny for many of the same reasons that I enjoy South Park (Of course, South Park is still running and Kinison died back in 1992, so a lot of you probably aren't all that familiar with his work).

So here are some snippets from some of Kinison's bits that you may find funny, provocative, outrageous, and even offensive. But, I'm going to post them and let you make up your own mind. There's certainly nothing here worse than you'll see on the average episode of South Park...

You want to help these people? Stop sending them food. Don't send these people another bite, folks. You want to send them something, you want to help these people? Send them U-Hauls, send them luggage, send them someone like me, I'll walk out there..send a guy who'll go,

'Hey, we just drove 700 miles with your food and it occurred to us that there wouldn't be world hunger, if you people would LIVE WHERE THE FOOD IS! YOU LIVE IN A F*CKING DESERT! YOU LIVE IN A F*CKING DESERT! NOTHING GROWS OUT HERE! NOTHING'S GONNA GROW HERE! YOU SEE THIS? HUH? THIS IS SAND. YEAH. DID YOU KNOW NOTHING CAN GROW IN THIS SH*T? HERE, EAT SOME OF IT, TASTE IT. KNOW WHAT IT'S GONNA BE A HUNDRED YEARS FROM NOW? IT'S GONNA BE SAND! YOU LIVE IN A F*CKING DESERT! GET YOUR KIDS, GET YOUR SH*T, WE'LL MAKE ONE TRIP, WE'LL TAKE YOU TO WHERE THE FOOD IS! WE HAVE DESERTS IN AMERICA -- WE JUST DON'T LIVE IN THEM, @SSHOLES!"

Ever since we bombed Libya ya know, I'm just in that f*cking tear everything up mood. Blast 'em. That was just too cool man, American bombers going in going "Where's the baby's room?" *** BOOM *** "Where do you keep the little girl"? (Explosion sound).

We did out job, we only f*cked up one place, we "accidentally" dropped a bomb on the French embassy. (Crowd "AWWWWWWW"). Sorry about that, I'm sure would have been a little better if we had more f*cking sleep. Thanks for those extra 6500 air miles you f*ckheads, build a new house!

We're not f*cking around anymore, it's time to be the tough guy. This is America Godd@mnit, Reagan's President and Clint Eastwood has his own police force.

You give 'em the test. You sit 'em down and you go "Eh, you got any job skills, any career training? Any type of talent for anything that'll help you get a job?"

"Do you have any loved ones, do you have any friends, someone who'll love you enough to take you in, help you get back on your feet, help you fight back?"

"Is there anything left inside of you as a man that wants to get on his two feet and do something to change his world?"

"Woah, woah, woah, My God, you're shooting the homeless!....Ok, I'm homeless, I don't have a job. I may have set my career goals a little too high. All right, all right. I was holding out for an executive position. That doesn't look like it's going to happen. Give me a couple of hours, I'll get a paper route, I'll get something. I'll get a job where I take the carts back to the grocery store, don't shoot me!"

Denis Leary rocks! From "No Cure For Cancer"......

"I take music pretty seriously. You see that scar on my wrist? You see that? You know where that's from? I heard the Beegees were getting back together again. I couldn't take it, okay! That was the only good thing about the 1980's. We got rid of one of the Beegees. One down, three to go. That's what I say, folks. Yeah! Here's ten bucks! Bring me the head of Barry Mantilow, alright? I wanna drink beer out of his empty head! I wanna have a Barry Mantilow skull keg party at my apartment, ok?! You write the songs, we'll drink the beer out of your head.

We live in a country, where John Lennon takes six bullets in the chest, Yoko Ono was standing right next to him and not one fucking bullet! Explain that to me! Explain that to me, God! Explain it to me, God! I want it! God! Jesus! Now we've got twenty-five more years. Yeah, I'm real fucking happy now, God. I'm wearing a huge happy hat, Jesus Christ! I mean Stevie Ray Vaughan is dead, and we can't get Jon Bon Jovi in a helicopter. Come on, folks. "Get on that helicopter John. Shut the fuck up and get on that helicopter! There's a hair dresser in there. Yeah, go ahead in there, yeah yeah."

I don't get it. You know, I just don't get it. I missed the fucking point some place. The boat left and I wasn't on the boat. Explain it to me. Heavy Metal bands on trial because kids commit suicide? What's that about? Judas Priest on trial because "my kid bought the record, and listened to the lyrics, ....." Well that's great! That sets a legal precedent. Does that mean I can sue Dan Folgerburg for making me into a pussy in the mid-70's. Is that possible, huh? Huh?! "Your honor, between him and James Taylor, I didn't get a blow job 'till I was 27 years old. I was in Colorado wearing hiking boots eating granola. I want some fucking money right now!"

Let me make sure I'm crystal clear on this issue, ok? Heavy Metal fans are buying Heavy Metal records, taking the records home, listening to the records and then blowing their heads off with shotguns? Where's the problem!? That's an unemployment solution right there, folks! It's called natural selection. It's the bottom of the food chain, ok? I say we put more messages on the records. "Kill the band, kill your parents, then yourself, ok!? Make sure you get your whole head in front of the shotgun. Thank you for calling! Thank you for calling!"

I'll tell you something else I don't get, ok? This whole thing, these bands going backwards, you know what I'm talking about? This whole nostalgia for the late 60's, early 70's that's happening right now. The Black Crowes wearing bell bottoms again? I don't fucking think so, ok! I wore them once, they sucked, I didn't get laid, I'm not wearing them again! Let me tell you something. We need a two and a half hour movie about the Doors? Folks, no we don't. I can sum it up for you in five seconds, ok. "I'm drunk. I'm nobody. I'm drunk. I'm famous. I'm drunk. I'm fucking dead." There's the whole movie, ok!? Big fat dead guy in a bath tub, there's your title for you.

And I also don't go for this other thing now, with MTV being so big where you get a band that gets a hit video, and all of the sudden they think that they're like icons and they can tell us how to feel about environmental issues and how to vote and stuff. You know what I'm talking about? Like R.E.M. "Shiny Happy People" "Hey Hey Hey Hey Hey! Pull that bus over to the side of the pretentiousness turnpike, alright!? I want everybody off the bus. I want the shiny people over here, and the happy people over here, ok! I represent angry gun-toting meat-eating fucking people, alright!" Sit down and shut the fuck up Michael! Don Henley's gonna tell me how to vote. I don't fucking think so, ok? I got two words for Don Henley, Joe Fucking Walsh, ok!? Thanks for calling, Don! How long's your pony tail now? Ok!

All these rock stars should've been killed, man. Every single God damned one of them. Right after Jon Lenin died, we should've gotten the Partridge Family bus and driven around and killed them all one by one, you know? Elvis Presley should have been shot in the head back in 1957. Somebody should've walked up behind Elvis in '57 with a 44 magnum, put the barrel of the gun right up to his brain stem and just pulled the trigger, so you can remember Elvis in a nice way. Wouldn't it be nice to remember Elvis thin, with a big head of hair? Maybe that gold lame gold lame gold lame suit. Wouldn't that be nice? Because how do you remember Elvis? You know how you remember Elvis. He was found in the toilet with his pants around his ankles and his big fat hairy sweaty king of rock and roll ass exposed to the world and his final piece of kingly evidence floating in the toilet behind him! Creepy! One of his aids had to walk in and go, "Damn, Elvis is dead. I'd better flush the toilet. Oh man I should've saved that! I coulda made some money off of that! Damn man! A ding dang do!"

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