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Song Details
Duration: 11:14 
Release Date: 11/10/1992 
Lyrics By: George Carlin 
Music By: N/A (Stavro Arrgolus) 
Produced By: Jerry Hamza/Brenda Carlin (Stavro Arrgolus) 
Released By: Eardrum/Atlantic Records (Stavro Arrgolus) 
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Speaking of places to eat and what they’re called or named, Beverly Hills has a brand new restaurant specifically for bulimia victims. It’s called “The Scarf ‘n Barf.” Well, they were gonna call it “The Fork ‘n Bucket.” Thank God, good taste prevailed. How about a restaurant for anorexics? What would you call it? “The Empty Plate”, “The Lonesome Chef”, “Start Without Me Guys”… See, somehow I can’t feel sorry for an anorexic you know? Rich **** don’t wanna eat? f**k her. Don’t eat! I ain’t give a s**t! Like I’m supposed to be concerned about this — “I DON’T WANNA EAT!” Go f**k yourself. Why don’t you lie down in front of a railroad train right after you don’t eat? What kind of a goddamn disease is that anyway? “I DON’T WANNA EAT!” How do we come up with this s**t in this country? Where do we get our values from? Bulimia! There’s another all-American disease. This has gotta be the only country in the world that could ever have come up with bulimia… gotta be the only country where some people are digging in the dumpster for a peach pit, other people eat a nice meal and puke it up intentionally! Where do we get our values from? I do not understand our values.

By the way, speaking of American values, aren’t we about due to start bombing some small country that only has a marginally effective air force? Seems to me like we’re weeks overdue to drop high explosives helpless civilians; people who have no argument with us whatsoever. I think we ought to be out there doing what we do best, gang: making large holes in other people’s countries. I hate to be repetitious but we are a war-like lot. We can’t stand it not to be f***ing with somebody! We couldn’t wait for that Cold War to be over could we? Couldn’t wait for the Cold War to be over so we can go and play with our toys in the sand, go and play with our toys in the sand, and when we’re not invading some sovereign nation or setting it on fire from the air, which is more fun for our Nintendo pilots, then we’re usually declaring war on something here at home.
Did you ever notice that about us? We love to declare war on things here in America. Anything we don’t like about ourselves, we declare war on it, we don’t do anything about it, we just declare war on it. It’s the only metaphor, the only metaphor we have in our public discourse for solving problems: declaring war. We have to declare a war on everything; we have a war on crime, the war on poverty, the war on litter, the war on cancer, the war on drugs, but did you ever notice we got no war on homelessness? Huh? No war on homelessness… you know why? There’s no money in that problem, no money to be made off of the homeless. If you can find a solution to homelessness where the corporate swine and the politicians could steal a couple of million dollars each, you’ll see the streets of America begin to clear up pretty goddamn quick, I’ll guarantee you that!
I got an idea! You know what they ought to do? Give the homeless their own magazine. Give them their own magazine. It would them feel better for one thing. That’s a sure sign of making it in this country; every group in this country that arrives at a certain level has its own magazine. We have Working Mother Magazine, Black Entrepreneur Magazine, Hispanic Business Magazine, in fact, any activity; any activity engaged in by more than four people in this country has got a f***ing magazine devoted to it. Skydiving, snowmobiling, backpacking, mountain climbing, bungee jumping, skeet shooting, duck hunting, jerking off, playing pool, shooting someone in the a*****e with a dart gun… they probably got a f***ing magazine for that! WALKING for Christ sakes… WALKING! There’s actually a f***ing magazine called “WALKING!” “Look Dan! The new ‘Walking’ is out! Here’s a good article: ‘Putting one foot in front of the other!’” Give ‘em their own magazine. You know what you’d call a magazine for the homeless? “Better Crates and Cartons.” Yeah, then when they get finished reading it, they can use it to line their clothing. That’s a good, sound business solution isn’t it? That’s the kind of answer you get from a conservative American businessman in this country: “Yeah, let them read it. When they get finished reading, they can use it to plug up the holes in the piano crates they all seem to like to live in.” A good, sound, practical, conservative American biiizniiiz solution.

I got an idea about homelessness. You know what they ought to do? Change the name of it. Change the name! It’s not homelessness, it’s houselessness! It’s houses these people need! A home is an abstract idea, a home is a setting, it’s a state of mind. These people need houses; physical, tangible structures. They need low-cost housing but where’re you gonna put it? Well that’s fine but where’re you gonna put it? Where’re you gonna put it?
Nobody wants you to build low-cost housing near their house. People don’t want it near ‘em! We’ve got something in this country – you’ve heard of it – it’s called NIMBY, N-I-M-B-Y, “Not In My Back Yard!” People don’t want anything, any kind of social help, located anywhere near ‘em! You try to open up a Halfway House, try to open up a drug rehab or an alcohol rehab center, try to do a homeless shelter somewhere, try to open up a little home for some retarded people who wanna work their way into the community, people say “NOT IN MY BACKYARD!” People don’t want anything near ‘em especially if it might help somebody else. Part of that great American spirited generosity we hear about—pbbt! Great generous American spirit! You can ask an Indian about that; ask an Indian – if you can find one… you gotta locate an Indian first; we’ve made ‘em just a little difficult to find – or if you need current data, select a black family at random, ask them how generous America has been to them.

People don’t want anything near ‘em, even if it’s something they believe in, something they think society needs, like prisons! Everybody wants more prisons right? Everybody wants more prisons. People say “BUILD MORE PRISONS!… …but not here.” Well why not? What’s wrong? What’s the problem? What’s wrong with having a prison in your neighborhood? It would seem to me like it would make it a pretty crime-free area, don’t you think? You think a lot of crackheads and pimps and hookers and thieves are gonna be hanging around in front of a f***ing prison?! bulls**t! They ain’t coming anywhere NEAR it!!! What’s wrong with these people? All the criminals are locked up behind the walls and if a couple of them do break out, what do you think they’re gonna do? Hang around? Check real estate trends? bulls**t! Pwwt! They’re f***ing gone! That’s the whole idea of breaking out of prison is to get the f**k as far away as you possibly can! …not in my backyard…

People don’t want anything near ‘em… except military bases. They don’t mind that do they? They like that. Give ‘em an army base, give ‘em a navy base, makes ‘em happy, why? Jobs! Jobs! Self-interest! Even if the base is loaded with nuclear weapons, THEY DON’T GIVE A f**k! They say “Well, I’ll take a little radiation if I can get a job!” Working people have been fucked over so long in this country, those are the kind of decisions they’re left to make.

I’ve got just the place for low-cost housing, I have solved this problem, I know where we can build housing for the homeless: GOLF COURSES! Perfect! Golf courses! Just what we need! Just what we need: plenty of good land in nice neighborhoods, land that is currently being wasted on a meaningless, mindless activity, engaged in primarily by white, well-to-do, male businessmen who use the game to get together to make deals to carve this country up a little finer among themselves. I am getting tired… really… getting… tired of these golfing cocksuckers in their green pants, and their yellow pants, and their orange pants, and their precious little hats, and their cute little golf carts! It is time to reclaim the golf courses from the wealthy and turn them over to the homeless. Golf is an arrogant, elitist game and it takes up entirely too much room in this country. It is an arrogant game on its very design alone. Just the design of the game SPEAKS of arrogance! Think of how big a golf course is… THE BALL IS THAT f***ing BIG! WHAT DO THESE PIN-HEADED PRICKS NEED WITH ALL THAT LAND?! There are over 17,000 golf courses in America, they average over 150 acres apiece, that’s 3 million plus acres, 4,820 square miles… you could build two Rhode Islands and a Delaware for the homeless on the land currently being wasted on this meaningless, mindless, arrogant, elitist, racist – there’s another thing; the only blacks you’ll find in country clubs are carrying trays – and a boring game… boring game for boring people. You ever watch golf on television? It’s like watching flies f**k! And-and a mindless game, mindless, think of the intellect it must take to draw pleasure from this activity: hitting a ball with a crooked stick… and then… walking after it… and then… HITTING IT AGAIN! I SAY PICK IT UP a*****e! YOU’RE LUCKY YOU FOUND THE f***ing THING! PUT IT IN YOUR POCKET AND GO THE f**k HOME! YOU’RE A WINNER! YOU’RE A WINNER! YOU FOUND IT! No… never happens… no… no chance of that happening; Dorko in the plaid knickers is going to hit it again and walk some more. Let these rich cocksuckers play miniature golf. Let ‘em f**k with a windmill for an hour and a half or so… see if there’s really any skill among these people. Now I know there are some people who play golf who don’t consider themselves rich… f**k ‘EM! And shame on them for engaging in an arrogant, elitist pastime.

Hey! Here’s another place we can put some low-cost housing: CEMETERIES! There’s another idea whose time has passed! Saving all the dead people up for one part of town?! What the hell kind of a medieval, superstitious, religious, bulls**t idea is that?! Plow these motherfuckers up, plow into the streams and rivers of America; we need that phosphorous for farming! If we’re going to recycle, LET’S GET SERIOUS!!!
(Stavro Arrgolus)
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