This section is nothing more than a collection of some of my favorite Carlinisms. Enjoy!

• Have you ever noticed that most of the people who are against abortion are people you wouldn't wanna fuck in the first place?

• My definition of bad luck: Catching AIDS from a Quaker.

• Stewardesses always tell you "Get on the plane!". I say "Fuck you, I'm getting IN the plane... Let the daredevils get ON the plane..."

• Basically, there's three types of asses. I've numbered them 1, 2, and C (I was never much good at indexing). The ones are your basic, garden-variety, seen one ya seen 'em all ass. The two is the fat ass. You've all seen 'em; you can't miss 'em. Finally, we have the unfortunates... my group: No ass at all. Just sort of a straight line from the shoulders to the heels. You have to wear a fat wallet and three handkercheifs.

• FUCK SOCCER MOMS

• I agree with a lot of the feminist literature I have read, but they take it too far. They want me to call that thing in the middle of the street a person-hole cover!

• Have you ever had guests over to the house... Maybe you bring down some Pepsi, but fuck 'em, let 'em bring their own Doritos. I'm not here to feed the neighborhood. Anyway, you walk into the room where your guests are waiting... AND THE DOG IS LICKING HIS BALLS!

• ...the flight continues, a little later on, towards the end, we hear, "The captain has turned on the fasten seatbelt sign." Well, who gives a shit who turned it on? What does that have to do with anything? It's on, isn't it? And who made this man a captain, might I ask? Did I sleep through some sort of armed forces swearing-in ceremony? Captain? He's a fucking pilot and let him be happy with that. If those sight-seeing announcements are any mark of his intellect, he's lucky to be working at all. Tell the Captain, Air Marshall Carlin says go fuck yourself!

• All your house is is a pile of stuff with a cover on it. If you didn't have so much goddam stuff... You wouldn't need a house. You could just walk around all the time.

• If you're ever looking for lost car keys, your pants pocket is one place where you must look at least 7,942 times.

• Los Angeles is a small woman saying "Fuck me!". New York is a large man saying "Fuck you!".

• Some people have funny names. They can't help it, but it's hard to keep from laughing when a guy named Elmo Zipaloonie introduces you to his friend El Cunto Prickolini. And if you want funny, you can't beat farmers with names like Orville Pigdicker or Hooter Stumpfuck.

• Though the painter and the art-theif were good friends, neither had ever taken the other's picture.

• I was expelled from cooking school, and it left a bad taste in my mouth.

• The lazy composer still had several scores to settle.

• Just because your penis surgery was unsuccessful is no reason to go off half-cocked.

• Old King Cole was a merry old soul, and a merry old soul was he. He called for his pipe, he called for his bowl. I guess we all know about Old King Cole... HE WANTED TO GET HIGH AND LISTEN TO THE FIDDLERS!

• Have you ever wondered why Republicans are so interested in encouraging people to volunteer in their communities? It's because volunteers work for no money. Republicans have been trying to get people to work for no money for a long time.

• I think lesbians should have a perfume called "Fuck Off, Mister!"

• I'm tired of all of the same animal names for sports teams. The wildcats, the lions, the tigers... Just once, I would like to root for the Cincinnati Mice, man. GO MICE! Let's win for the pink and white...

• I read that a Detroit man and his friend were arrested because they had forced the man's five-year-old son to smoke cigarettes, drink alcohol, and perform oral sex on them. Can you imagine? Cigarettes!

• If a movie is "R-rated", it means that if you're under 17, you have to see it with an adult. Typical dialogue: "What's he doing, Dad?" "He's fucking her, son."

• And lastly, the infamous Carlin Cheer: