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Fussy Eater 
By: George Carlin
  Play Sample:
Rank this week: 31 (↑48)
Duration: 8:09 
Release Date: 1981  (CapSuper) 
Lyrics By: George Carlin (CapSuper) 
Music By: N/A (CapSuper) 
Produced By: George Carlin (Stavro Arrgolus) 
Released By: Atlantic (CapSuper) 
Published By: Dead Sea Publishing Company (Stavro Arrgolus) 
Licensing: BMI (Stavro Arrgolus) 
Keywords: CHILDREN, FOOD, FUSSY, PARENTS, STAND-UP COMEDY 
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Facts:
  • Ed. Note: On the "A Place For My Stuff" album, this bit is split in half and has a short, preconceived comedy bit inserted into it. In the interest of peace & quiet and to generally avoid needless confusion, 'Fussy Eater' is presented whole on this page. (Stavro Arrgolus)
  • Song Lyrics:
    When I was a kid I was known as a fussy eater. 'Fussy eater!' That's what they called it in my house. "He's a fussy eater." 'Fussy eater' is a euphemism for "Big pain in the ***." I would say, "I don't like that!" "Why?" They wanted reasons. Well, you don’t always have a reason. "I don't know. I know I don't like it. And I know that if I ate it, I would like it even less. You like it? You eat it!" Then they would try to corner me with logic. "How do you know you don't like it if you've never even tried it?" "It came to me in a dream!"

    There were some things I didn't like because of the way they sounded. I just didn't like the name of it. Imagine that? I got away with that **** for a year and a half. "Don't sound right to me, Ma. Say that again? Uuuuuugh! I don't like that." To this day, there are some things I can't eat because I don't like the way they sound. I still cannot eat...yogurt. I can't eat anything with a Y and a G in it. Squash. "You want some squash?" "****, NO!" Sounds like somebody sat on dinner, you know? "How about some wheat germ?" "Germ?!" "Horseradish!" Aaaaagh! "Eggplant." "Well, what is it- an egg or a plant? Tell it to make up its mind and come on back." Something I don't like the sound of: succotash. "What'd you call me, you ****? Look out, hey!" "Hey, hey. Hey, be cool. Hey, be cool. It's lima beans on corn, man." You know, something else doesn't sound very right? Head cheese. Uuuuh. I can't even look at the sign. "I'll be down near the baloney. You look at it."

    Then there are some things that sound too funny to eat. Some things are too humorous to swallow. Guacamole. That sounds like something you yell when you're on fire. GUACAMOLE! Or sounds like something you can't remember the name of. "Where's that little…guacamole I had here?" Something else sounds too funny to eat: garbanzo beans. I mean, that's the first four letters of the word 'garbage' in there. "Hey, did you take out the garb..anzo beans?" And, of course, the funniest food: kumquats. I don’t ever bring 'em home anymore. I sit there laughing and they go to waste.

    Then I began to realize there were some things I didn't like because of the way they looked. That's a little more rational. The family was glad I had arrived at this new plateau. "I don't like that. That don't look right to me. Did you make that, Ma? Is there a picture of it in the cookbook? I bet it don't look like that!" Some things, let's face it, just don't look right, you know? 'Course, there are some people who'll eat anything; I understand that. That's the other end of the spectrum. Some guys will eat anything. Some of those guys in the Air Force. "I'll eat anything! Whaddya got? What is it? Never mind, just gimme some!" "It's rat's *******, Don!" "Well, it sure makes a hell of a fondue!" Not me, folks. I don't eat anything I don't recognize immediately. If I've got to ask questions, **** it. I pass, you know? I'm not here to make inquiries. I come here to goddamn eat! Now gimme something I recognize! Like a carrot! I can trust a carrot.

    Certain things don't look right. Y'ever been going down the buffet line and suddenly, here's a big pile of yellow ****? Something ya ain't never seen before! "I don't know what is. I'm not going to ask, either. But I am going to look at it. 'Cause other people are eating of it!" And I've noticed the average pile of yellow **** on the buffet has about five ingredients in it. But they're all yellow. That means four of them gave up.

    Now then, there are some things I don't like the looks of, even though I know what they are. Sliced tomatoes. I just don't care for the way they look. Looks like a little pink bicycle tire, you know? Well, I don't eat bicycle tires. Why should I eat a little pink one? The real trouble with tomatoes- sliced tomatoes, especially- is that they don't look like they're finished developing yet. You know, looks like they're still in the larva stage. There's thousands of seeds in there and a whole bunch of jelly-looking stuff, man! It's like that stuff at the end an egg. "Uuuuuuh! Ugh! Get it off my plate! Ugggggh! It's slimy, ugh!" And I know it's not the end of an egg; it's the beginning of a chicken! Hen ***! AAAAAAHHH! Oh, I'm fun in the coffee shop.

    Lobsters and crabs; they don't look like food to me either. Anything that's crawling toward me, sideways, with big pinchers, you know? Hey, that don't make me hungry! In fact, my instinct is, "Step on that ****! Step on that big thing, before he gets to the children!" They look like they mean business. Frog's legs. I can never order them. I keep wondering- What did they do with the rest of the frog? What do they do? Do they give them little dollies and send them back out onto the street to beg? You know? Try to return them to a normal life? The trouble is, the "Dollies for Froggies" program is underfunded. Boy, they're doing something with them. You never see it on the menu: "Frog Torso."

    And oysters. I cannot eat oysters- or clams- not for the reason you mention, which is 'Uuuuuuh!' but because when I look at an oyster, I think, "Hey! Somebody lives in there! That's somebody’s little house! I'm not going to break in on somebody just to eat them. Come on! We've got laws against that. That's 'breaking and eating,' I believe." Don't get me wrong. If an oyster slips and falls out of his shell, I'll eat that ************ in a minute! I got no mercy on a clumsy mollusk. But I'm not going in after somebody. Hey, he might be making a pearl. He might have just brought home a Heathkit and cleaned off the tabletop. Not my job to mess with an [echo effect:] oyster's.. oyster's.. oyster's....
    (Stavro Arrgolus)
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