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Authors: Ron White

I Had the Right to Remain Silent...But I Didn't Have the Ability (13 page)

BOOK: I Had the Right to Remain Silent...But I Didn't Have the Ability

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And I didn't begrudge him a bit, because if it would have been mine, I would have been holding a picture frame around it.

"You can take the donkey to the top of the rim, or you can ride this. It is the same price."

T
he first time my wife and I made love, it was a little awkward, because well, you've heard of these screamers, right?

Well, apparently, she had never been with one. 'Cause I'm going at it, "Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah!" She's like, "What's up with that?"

"I'm a screamer, baby. Daddy makes a little racket in the sack."

I
make fun of my wife. But she is just a brilliant woman--two degrees.

She came up with a solution for the overpopulation of our planet. It was a brilliant idea--and simple, like most brilliant ideas are. Stop spending money, she said, on research for the development of products like Viagra and Cialis.

And instead . . . instead . . . invest that money in research to develop a product that'll make semen taste like . . . chocolate.

She'd be chasing me down the sidewalk: "Come here, Willy Wonka! Get that little chocolate factory back over here, mister. There's gotta be one more in there."

N
ormally my wife's a very sensuous woman. One time we were driving down the road, and she decided to give me the highway delight. Or, as I like to affectionately refer to it, a mouth hug.

And I was pleasantly surprised, but the other people in the carpool got all pissed off.

"We gotta get these kids to school."

"She loves chocolate."

I
think it's kind of odd that in twenty years of constant traveling doing stand-up comedy, I've never become a member of the mile-high club. That's where you have sex in a plane over a mile off the ground, or however the hell you got up there.

I did jack off in Denver two weeks ago. And I met John Elway.

Not at the same time.

Nice to meet you, Mr. Elway. Do you like chocolate?

I am a member though, oddly enough, of a little club I started, called the mile-ahead club. That's where you fuck someone behind a Cracker Barrel billboard. We're having a membership drive too. So, uh, grab your partner and skip to my Lou.

M
y wife got her nipples pierced. She didn't ask me nothing about it, you know. She just went ahead and did it.

I'm just not into it. And I think you should ask your mate if they're into that, before you do it. This whole piercing thing just left me sitting on a fucking island, waving bye at all the people sailing off to get pierced.

I just don't get it. I was talking to a girl the other day, and she had a pierced tongue. And I asked her why she did it. And she said, "It helps my boyfriend enjoy oral sex."

And I'm like, "No, it doesn't. You know what helps your boyfriend enjoy oral sex? Oral fuckin' sex. There's no need to decorate it, sweetheart."

I'm telling you, folks, out of all the erections I've ever had in my life, it never occurred to me to rub steel on one of them.

"No, wait a minute, stop, stop, that doesn't feel good. Uh, what I want you to do is get the dull edge of a butter knife, and just rake it up and down the shaft.

"Now set a mousetrap off on my nut sack. Now we're both having fun."

Now, belly-button piercing, that can be OK. But it's gotta be the right girl, right? That tan girl at the park, with the low-slung faded jeans, little pink half shirt, little silver hoop. That's sexy.

But have you seen these women that pierce their fat roll? Now, I'm not being an ass. I've got a huge gut too. But you're never gonna see me at the mall in a tube top with, like, a horseshoe poking through there.

My wife got her nipples pierced, though. I just came home one day, you know, she opens up her robe and there it is. And I was, like, "Whuh?"

She goes, "What's the matter?"

"Nothin'."

"Don't you think it looks sexy?"

I said, "It looks like the plug in my grandmother's bathtub."

Don't ever fuckin' say that, guys. I haven't seen them titties in six weeks.

I
was playing the Paramount Theatre in Austin, Texas, and Mother lives in a little town outside of Austin, where you guys bought her a new house. She says thanks.

And I was at Mother's house having dinner, and there's eight of us sitting around this big table eating Mother's fried chicken. Great chicken. And Mother is telling a story.

And Mother has had a couple cocktails. Couple. Mama drinks.

And the story was, she had her car worked on. They gave her a loaner car. She brings the loaner car back, there's a big dent in the fender. She has no idea how it got there. I'm sure she's telling the truth.

And I guess what she meant to say was the guy comes out and sees she wrecked the car, and he chews her out because there's a big dent in the fender. But what she says is this:

"And you know what he did? He just ate me out right there in the parking lot in front of everyone. I didn't even do it. He's eating me out right in front of all these people."

I got chicken flying out of my nose. And my slack-jaw dullard family doesn't even get it.

They're like, "That ain't right, he just ate you out like that. You oughta take somebody in private, you gonna eat them out. I've always said that."

I was like, "So he wasn't mad, Ma?"

"Yeah, he's mad. He's eating me out right there in the parking lot in front of everybody. There's five people standing there watching this man just eat me out right there in the parking lot."

I went, "Mama, the expression is
chewed
me out."

"It's the same thing."

"Technically, no, Mom. The next time you tell the story, I would say 'chewed me out.' Especially if you tell it at church."

I
think the most often asked question I have on my Web site is why I wasn't a bigger part of
Blue Collar Television
, which is Jeff and Larry and Bill's show.

And the answer is, my work ethic. It's questionable.

My grandpa used to say, "That boy's got a lot of quit in him."

And as a young man, the things I didn't quit, I got kicked out of. I got kicked off the high school debate team for saying, "YEAH, WELL, FUCK YOU!"