President Me (19 page)

Read President Me Online

Authors: Adam Carolla

BOOK: President Me
2.35Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

But while I want all voters to have ID, I don't want the candidates to be identified. From now on, all voting will be blind voting. When you step in the voting booth you'll just see a list of positions on issues. No names, party affiliations, or pictures. We do way too much voting based on “he looks like me” and “her last name sounds like mine” in this country.

In the greatest example of balls/sociopathic behavior from a politician ever, former L.A. mayor Antonio Villaraigosa chastised the Republicans during the 2012 election, saying, “You can't just trot out a brown face or a Spanish surname and expect people are going to vote for your party or your candidate.” This is a man who was referred to as Tony Villar all the way through junior high, high school, and during his time at an unaccredited law school where he failed the bar four times before giving up. He then combined his name with his wife's to become Antonio Villaraigosa and was quickly elected mayor of a heavily Hispanic city. The idea that just because someone's grandparents were from the same fucked-up part of the world as your grandparents and should thus know exactly what you need and will force the government to provide it for you is narcissism of the highest order. It all smacks of a big “Fuck all those people with other ancestry, fuck the melting pot, fuck the idea that we're all in this together. What about ME? Gimme gimme gimme.”

And when it comes to voting for your own, Mexicans, my question is this: How's that working out for you? I've taken a look south of the border. Mexico is a piece of shit. It's the fucked-up hellhole you fled from. The people in charge there sure look a lot like you and have similar last names. So what is your fucking logic? Let's keep that party rolling here in the States? You're only in this country because you voted for your own and your own were crooked leaders in the pockets of the drug cartel, so you decided to get the hell out of there. President Carolla won't pander to get the Italian vote. You aren't going to hear me promising a Fiat in every garage and chicken Parmesan in every pot.

This “vote for someone like me” bullshit extends beyond race. I loved when Barbara Walters had the ovaries to ask Chris Christie about his weight, and if he thought it might affect his chances of being elected. I actually think it would help. Fat is the ultimate race here in America. There are fat honkies, fat brothers, fat Jews, fat Mexicans. We're a morbidly obese rainbow. I think Chris Christie would get elected in a second, if I wasn't running. That being said, there would have to be some institutional changes. We'd have to make it the Circle Office instead of the Oval. Ovals are too narrow for his girth. And we'd have to scrap the current 747 we use for
Air Force One
and convert a C130 cargo transport. I'd love to see President Christie waddle down that giant back door.

The one place this comes into play is with women. We talked a good game when Hillary was running and Sarah Palin was involved. But we've all seen enough episodes of
The Bachelor
to know chicks are too competitive to vote for one of their own.

6

MY ADDRESS TO THE UN
 
 

The following is a transcript from President Carolla's first address to the UN General Assembly in New York.

PRESIDENT CAROLLA: Mr. President, Mr. Secretary-General, fellow delegates, ladies and gentlemen. Each year the nations of the world come together in this assembly hall to recommit to a vision of peace, stability, and partnership for a more harmonious globe.

And so far, you've sucked at it. The world continues to be as fucked up as it ever was. Good job, assholes. So I stand before you not as the president of the United States but as a parent, coach, and drill sergeant. Get your shit together.

(MURMURS FROM ASSEMBLY)

I'm starting with you, Middle East. First, let me make one thing clear. It's not your people. The inhabitants of the Middle East are hardworking and family-minded just like you and me. The problem is your leaders. Who evidently are imported from countries where everyone's an asshole. I hope my sarcasm is translating. Whenever someone tries to pull that “it's not the people, it's the government” bullshit, ask them what country the fucking government's from? What part of Norway did Iran's leaders come from? How good can the people be if they elect or don't rise up against these corrupt dickheads?

It's said you can judge a nation by how they treat their prisoners, but who gives a shit about prisoners? I say you can judge a nation by how they treat their bitches . . . ​I mean women. The more evolved you are as a nation, a culture, or a man, the better you treat the ladies. Here's how it works. The average man weighs fifty pounds more than the average woman and would win in a fistfight. You guys use the same logic a bully uses on a weakling—might makes right. Us evolved nations realize that just because we could kick the shit out of our wife or a neighboring country—are you listening, Mexico?—doesn't mean we do it. Every country in your region is a misogynist nation and thus a bully nation. And the only thing bully nations understand is carpet bombing. The other way you can spot your misogynist nation is that all the men have huge, woolly beards. You all look like Rick Ruben minus the cool sunglasses. Chicks hate these, but who gives a shit about the chicks? Right. That's a tell. The bigger the beard, the shittier the nation.

Another way we can tell you're dicks is how you treat your dogs. A dog in America has a better life than any person in the Middle East. And a dog in L.A. has a better life than any person in Detroit. We have an entirely different attitude toward dogs. It's part of the bully mentality that permeates your region. This animal, like a woman, is smaller and weaker, so you can kick it with impunity. Bad day herding goats? Kick the dog. Blow off a finger building an IED? Kick the dog. Camel broke down in traffic? Kick the dog. You also have a lot of canine-related insults in your culture, “You are a dog,” “Your mother lies down with dogs,” etc. In my country, if someone is “your dog,” that means you like them. Randy Jackson uses the word “dog” as a compliment in every third sentence. Allow me to give you Middle East dictators a lesson on how to insult Americans. You use a lot of “imperialist” this and “Zionist” that. Just go with “douchebag,” it'll be a lot more effective.

Take guys like Gaddafi. Wouldn't a group of completely sane and rational people rise up against an asshole like Gaddafi if they didn't kind of agree with him? How did that crackpot stay in power so long? Eventually enough sane people finally rose up, killed that guy, and dragged his bloated beaten corpse through the streets. The photos and video were all over the Internet. I didn't check them out, though. He was hard enough to look at when he was alive. He looked like Fergie and Manny Pacquiáo had a kid, raised him in a fruit-drying machine, and then dressed him in Jermaine Jackson's wardrobe.

And by the way, when you depose a dictator, you really don't need to take to the streets chanting and dragging the remains of your fallen leader. We abandoned that a few centuries ago. We have these things called elections and courts to get rid of our corrupt and incompetent leaders. You ought to give those a shot. Let's take a look at the ratio of bodies dragged through the streets to space programs. How many carcasses have you dragged through the streets vs. satellites sent into orbit? When you're jumping up and down and swatting at a body with sandals, that's never good. Think about it, we see all this footage because you capture it with a cell phone that was designed and made in a country that spends a lot less time dragging bodies through the streets. Next time you're considering a cadaver parade, just ask yourself, “What would Switzerland do?” I enjoyed the news reports saying the Libyans poured into the streets to celebrate Gaddafi's death. I'm pretty sure you were already there. It's not like you were pouring out of your luxury condominiums. I feel like you're always on the streets. Generally, that's a bad sign for a country. Whether it's the kids selling Chiclets in Tijuana or the Turkish bazaar where you haggle over the price of some goat meat, the more stuff that is sold on the street the worse the country.

I know what you're thinking. We did take to the streets when Seal Team Six put a bullet in your beloved bin Laden. But that was only fair. That was our time to take to the streets. Not counting the blacks when O.J. went free. We had to watch you burning American flags when the towers fell or some hostage was taken or a Blackhawk was downed. So fuck off. And by the way, all those flags you love burning are made in China, so go nuts.

And let me address the pervasive idea that chanting “USA! USA!” when we smoked bin Laden only served to inflame you and was a recruitment tool for making more terrorists. Fine by me if that's the case. If we create more terrorists, then we just need to make more drones to kill them. It's a great business model.

You came pre-inflamed because of your retarded religious beliefs. No amount of ass kissing from the West is going to convince a poor eighteen-year-old Middle Eastern male that life wouldn't be better if he strapped on a suicide vest, blew up a pizza parlor, and went to paradise for his seventy-two virgins. I'd like to undercut that motivation a little bit, not by convincing you that America isn't the Great Satan but by pointing out that those seventy-two virgins aren't going to last you through eternity in paradise. When I was twenty-one, seventy-two virgins wouldn't have lasted me two months. And then you have to think about whether or not they stay virgins. You'd have to make the first one the whore and use her for eight years before moving on to the next one. Eternity is a long time, brothers.

Plus it's not like all seventy-two die of natural causes. You've got to imagine there are some horrible burn victims in there. And a fair amount of virgins are that way because no one wants to fuck them. You could end up with someone who looks like Susan Boyle; a fifty-two-year-old virgin spinster who died when one of her seventeen cats knocked a curling iron into her bath.

I'm just sick of America having to get out of its La-Z-Boy and police your shit. So I make this declaration now. We're out. Spiral into nuclear war, I don't give a damn.

And the rest of you normal nations, it's your fault. It's like we're all out to dinner, everyone is ordering surf, turf, and surf again but we always pick up the tab. I wish the rest of you would fucking step up. We need an alliance of sane countries. These guys have a lot of big talk about Allah's swift sword on our neck, but we have the power, the industrial might, and the technology. America has to be the world's police because these guys are nuts. I just wish we had a partner. We need the Danny Glover to our Mel Gibson.

Seriously, when are you going to knock it the fuck off? You guys are always fighting with your neighbors. It's pathetic. I'll watch an old episode of
Saturday Night Live
from 1975 and hear Chevy Chase start “Weekend Update” with “Trouble in the Middle East.” Nothing ever changes. Is it the heat? Canada never starts shit with us. Is it because they're cold? The molecules in ice move slower than the ones in steam, right? It's the same thing with you assholes. You live in the world's largest sand trap in the world's worst golf course. It's hot, there's no water. Maybe if you moved to a colder climate you'll literally chill out.

And to all the assholes, American or otherwise, who talk about Iran and nuclear weapons and say, “Why can America have nukes but they can't?” Because we're not insane. We don't want to wipe Israel off the map. We're not into genocide. And by the way, when it comes to that, it isn't genocide. It's jealous-cide. The Jews are so much better than you. That's why every couple hundred years someone attempts to round them up and kill them. You envy them. Jews work together, they draft each other like a great NASCAR team.

(CONFUSED LOOKS FROM ASSEMBLY AND SPORADIC WHISPERS OF “WHAT IS THIS NASCAR?”)

You're all out shooting each other and fighting over which version of the bullshit you believe about Muhammad is true. Meanwhile the Jews are building universities, hospitals, and satellites.

Which leads me to Israel. What the fuck are you guys doing in the middle of those homicidal, anti-Semitic, misogynistic, religious zealots? I know what your answer is, it's your land, you won it fair and square, and you are not going to move. That's like saying, “My roommate's a paranoid meth head. Twice a week I wake up and he is standing at the foot of my bed with a machete.” Then, when someone says, “Why don't you move out?” your answer is, “And lose my cleaning deposit?”

(AUDIBLE BOOS FROM PALESTINIAN DELEGATION)

Shut the fuck up. You know it's your fault. I hear a lot of talk about how all anyone wants is peace, but the side of the fence where it's only Jews looks pretty good. The other side looks like a thin slice of hell. Face it, they're a better culture than you.

I don't really have a foreskin in this fight but I do have a solution, Israel. You guys pack up and move to Baja. It's got plenty of seaside deserts. You'll love it. Here's the plan: Mexico usually gets drunk and passes out about eight thirty in the evening. You sneak in under the cover of darkness and take over before they sober up. The only real difference between the Sea of Galilee and the Sea of Cortez is world-class sport fishing. And you could get that country's economy back on its feet in no time. They need accountants; ironically Mexico's short on bean counters. And don't worry about the “Sacred Land” stuff; once you get established in Baja, you can send some Mexicans back to your land to scrape off the top six inches of soil, spread it out over the peninsula, and start fresh. Once your old neighbors realize they are out of Jews to kill, they'll start killing each other.

Other books

Winter Hawk Star by Sigmund Brouwer
The Ivory Swing by Janette Turner Hospital
The Sinister Touch by Jayne Ann Krentz
A Wind of Change by Bella Forrest
A Jane Austen Education by William Deresiewicz
After Earth: A Perfect Beast by Peter David Michael Jan Friedman Robert Greenberger
Showdown by William W. Johnstone