If I am ever brain dead, kill Titus. If I cannot control the fluids spewing out of my own orifices, please kill Titus. If I'm not aware enough to pick which diapers I would like to be changed into, for God's sake, kill Titus -- unless I'm really funny.
Two weeks ago in Los Angeles, at a stop sign, I was asked for a dollar by a homeless 22-year-old Vietnam veteran. I was like, 'Here's a buck. Yeah, I know man, Da Nang was whack.'
To every race of people in here tonight that whitey has jacked up, I sincerely apologize -- for taking your land, for the abuse, for the torture, for the small pox blanket, for the Jim Crow laws. Black people, I apologize for Kramer.
Look at that! It's a park, and there's a white guy and a black guy and an Asian guy and a Latino guy. And that guy, he's Canadian -- don't worry about him, they never affect the world much at all.
Our priorities are so screwed up. We still -- four and a half years -- still cannot catch Osama bin Laden, but we nailed Martha Stewart's ass to the wall.
The day I'm in England performing, English security let a man in a Batman suit climb Buckingham Palace. I felt so much safer... Batman was on the wall of Buckingham Palace for five hours. Wouldn't happen in America -- three minutes: dead Batman.
Every weekend, I would get the drunk driving lecture. Of course, Dad drank and drove all the time. I guess it wasn't a lecture; it was helpful tips from the master.
At the end of the Peterson trial, my daughter turns to me and she goes, 'Daddy, are you going to kill Mommy?' 'Oh, honey -- that's up to mommy, isn't it?'
I can't stop some idiot from crashing into a building or blowing up a bus, I can only be your dad and give you a few pure truths. Number one, duct tape will save your life. Number two, Tupac is alive, but I need you to keep that on the DL because...