Imagine, Mr. Speaker, a world without balloons.

How can we make sure that the injustice of there being no helium for comedians

to get that high pitched voice that we all hold near and dear to our hearts?

Imagine a world without balloons.

People write about what they want to write about.

You know, I like to sing about America, about God, country.

You know, I like to sing about my grandma going to jail.

You know, things that mean something to me.

I've never, never like chased a guy across a crowded city square.

I've never, I've never hung on to that part of the helicopter.

You know the part underneath the thing where it lands?

Do you know the part?

Yes, I know the part.

I've never hung on to that.

I've worked hard my whole life, paid my dues, and now it's Shooter's Turn.

Shooter's done about to let his reign at the top be spoiled by some freak side show clowns.

I'm a miracle. I'm a unicorn.

I'm a fucking kneeling a haystack.

And you did some dumb hipster munching my hay.

He's a brilliant artist in his average height.

This show really improves with age.

Why?

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