Read The New New Rules: A Funny Look at How Everybody but Me Has Their Head Up Their Ass Online

Authors: Bill Maher

Tags: #Humor, #Form, #Political, #General, #Topic, #Political Science, #Essays

The New New Rules: A Funny Look at How Everybody but Me Has Their Head Up Their Ass (4 page)

BOOK: The New New Rules: A Funny Look at How Everybody but Me Has Their Head Up Their Ass
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Now,
there’s
someone who’s not black enough to be president.
BAT OUT OF MATTEL
 
New Rule:
The media must stop trying to excite me over Barbie’s turning fifty. No offense to Cougar Barbie, but a disclaimer on the box says, “Ken comes separately.”
BEARDED SHAM
 
 
New Rule:
If you married a manic-depressive, three of your children died, and while you were president civil war broke out and someone shot you in the head, your coin really shouldn’t say “In God We Trust.”
TOWN HAUL
 
New Rule:
Just because we have an obligation to rebuild New Orleans doesn’t mean we have to put it back in the same place. Why don’t we put it someplace where it can stay out of harm and do some good. After all, New Orleans is the Big Easy, and a lot of America is uptight. Which is why I say we put New Orleans in Kansas.
What do you say, Kansas—put down your hoes and come meet some. Welcome New Orleans to the land that fun forgot—an infusion of color and gayness in the dry Kansas plain. Why, it’ll be as if they shot
The Wizard of Oz
on location.
You’re gonna like it. New Orleans is one of the great towns. It’s my kind of town—an outpost of free living and sophistication in a sea of . . . well, now, sea.
You can’t tell me that the giant swath of Red America that Kansas sits in the middle of wouldn’t benefit from thousands of insane Creoles who understand that hangovers happen only to people foolish enough to stop drinking. I read this week that the strippers have gone back to work in New Orleans. They don’t even have clothes, and already they’re taking them off. Kansas could use some of that spirit.
It could use some jazz, some blues . . . some blacks.
Don’t think of it as a half-million black people moving in next door. Think of it as the
March of the Penguins
. Only, you know, with a half-million black people.
So what do you say, Kansas? They need a home. You need to get the stick out of your ass. It’s a win-win. Come on, Kansas, show some curiosity. Show some compassion. But most of all, show us your tits!
 
 
—September 23, 2005
 
BED HEAD
 
 
New Rule:
Sealy Posturepedic must rewrite this ad to say what they really mean: “A mattress so comfortable, you’ll doze off during 69.”
BEDTIME FOR BRONZO
 
 
New Rule:
If you’re standing in front of a bronze statue, and you’re bronzer, you’re using too much bronzer.
BEER AS FOLK
 
 
New Rule:
Next time, instead of taking a sip, chug. Chug the whole thing. You want to connect to white voters in middle America, Mr. President, knock that whole thing back, turn to that guy next to you, ask him what the fuck he’s looking at, punch him in the face, call him a fag, then order a shot and do a karaoke version of “Don’t Stop Believing” while riding the mechanical bull.
BET MEDDLER
 
New Rule:
Just because you’re the mayor and your team is in the World Series doesn’t mean you have to make some horseshit bet with the other city’s mayor, where you make him breakfast or eat a thousand chicken wings or let him watch your wife in the shower. You’re the mayor. Not Mancow. And your team doesn’t give a crap about Texas chili, or San Francisco crab cakes, or Cleveland steamers. Because they’re all Dominican.
BETA BLOCKER
 
New Rule:
Blockbuster can’t announce it’s closing 960 stores. Where will I go to rent a movie in 1988? And how do they still have 960 stores? Blockbuster, if you’re still open next fall, you owe
me
a late fee.
BETTER FREIGHT THAN NEVER
 
New Rule:
Airlines should just get it over with and start putting passengers in the cargo hold. Let’s face it: You’ve already taken the legroom, the food, the pillows. The only thing left is to tag us, load us on that conveyor belt, and let us fight over who gets to sleep on the bag of mail.
BIEBER SHOT
 
 
New Rule:
If you’re an adult and you go to the Justin Bieber movie by yourself and you’re not a film critic, you have to register as a sex offender.
BINGE AND MERGE
 
New Rule:
Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas must be combined into one single super-holiday called Thanks-hallow-istmas. That way, you have to get together with your batshit family only once. In costume. For candy, presents, and a big turkey dinner. Then it’s everybody into the den to watch football until your drunken uncle calls your cousin a whore.
THE BITCH SET ME UP
 
New Rule:
Stop hitting on women at the dog park. Yes, we’re talking to you, divorced guy with a ponytail. That better be a Milk-Bone in your pocket, because we’re not glad to see you. Women come to the park to exercise their dogs, not to socialize with hounds. They wouldn’t pick you up if they had a plastic bag on their hand. Although if you’re determined to meet a woman at the dog park, here’s a tip: Get a dog.
BITCHY & SCRATCHY
 
New Rule:
Movie trailers have to stop indicating a comic reversal of fortune with the sound of a record scratch, because no one has scratched a record since 1985. For twenty-six years now, “vreeeeeeep” has been the sound of Owen Wilson losing his girlfriend, his job, and getting his dick caught in a car door. The record scratch is so obsolete, the thing that made it obsolete—the CD—is obsolete. But you can still keep using James Brown’s “I Feel Good” for the part where Owen Wilson inherits a pet store and sings into a hairbrush. Because that never gets old.
BLOW ’N’ TELL
 
New Rule:
And this one is for the kids: Kids, if you’re going to bring cocaine to class, make sure you bring enough for everyone. A second-grader in Philadelphia brought eighteen bags of cocaine to school and passed it around. Boy, there’s a switch—going in the sandbox and getting crack in your sand. Then at recess one kid tried to fly a kite, but he’d done so much blow he couldn’t get it up.
BODY SHOTS
 
New Rule:
No more pictures of dead people in their coffins. It’s a funeral, not a “Kodak moment.” I don’t want to remember Boris Yeltsin on his back, eyes closed and lifeless. I want to remember Boris Yeltsin how he lived: on his back, eyes closed and lifeless.
BONING IT IN
 
New Rule:
There are double entendres, there are single entendres, and then there’s Britney Spears’s single “Hold It Against Me.” What’s her next song, “Put Your Penis in My Mouth”? She’s a regular Cole Porter . . . and by that I mean, a long time ago, gay men liked her.
BOO, CAKEY
 
New Rule:
Don’t pretend Twinkies are healthy now, just because you can get the 100-calorie size. Here’s the miracle: It’s smaller. Here’s how to make your own at home: Cut an old Twinkie in half. Here’s how to make it healthy: Throw both halves in the toilet and eat a carrot.
BOWL MOVEMENT
 
New Rule:
Froot Loops are not a health food. Some of the big food companies have started giving their products “Smart Choices” check marks so shoppers will know they’re “healthful.” You know, like a creep at the park will carry a puppy, so kids will know he’s “friendly.” Healthful? Froot Loops? When I saw this,
I
threw a tantrum in the cereal aisle.
BRAISEDHEART
 
New Rule:
Just because the Scottish eat it, that doesn’t make it food. The Obama administration has lifted the ban on imported haggis, a Scottish dish made from sheep’s heart, liver, and lungs, and simmered in the sheep’s stomach. Mmmm. But we already have that here. It’s called a hot dog. Plus, their version looks disgusting, while ours is neatly pressed into the shape of a dog’s hard-on. What I’m trying to say is: Buy American.
BOOK: The New New Rules: A Funny Look at How Everybody but Me Has Their Head Up Their Ass
7.62Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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