Private Parts (29 page)

HERE'S A LIST OF MY LEAST FAVORITE PEOPLES, IN ASCENDING ORDER:

3. The French 2. The Filipinos 1. Everybody else

ZE FRENCH

Let me tell you why I hate the French. First of all, those bastards wouldn't let us fly our planes over their precious country when we were on our way to bomb that raghead Qaddafi. A lot of people forgot this;
I
didn't.
That's some gratitude after we saved their snail-eating asses during WWII when they lay down like sheep for Hitler.

People talk about the French resistance. That was a myth. There was no French resistance. Those rat bastards were manufacturing more stuff for the Nazi war effort than any other occupied territory. Did you know that the French actually became the number one producer of goods for the Nazis?! They couldn't wait to please those pricks. If I should ever go to France I'll pack a tape recorder so I can play a tape of Hitler's speeches every time a Frenchman gives me a dirty look for being an American. "Remember that voice," I will say. "That's who we saved you from. You should kiss my feet daily, worship my cellulite-ridden ass, and say God bless America for kicking some ass when you were lying down like sheep."
No one remembers. I remember.
I'd play that fucking tape every day. My tape recorder would blare Germans screaming
"Sieg Heil! Sieg Heil!"
through the streets of France. And if some asshole tried to fuck with me I'd scream from the top of my lungs, "LAFAYETTE WAS A PUSSY! THE BASTILLE FELL LIKE IT WAS CARDBOARD!"

Most people say, "Don't live in the past." But look at the French today. We offer them money, technology, and business opportunities, and they dump shit on us. And we take it. We bring them Euro Disney, a multibillion-dollar industry, and at the opening they have the balls to throw tomatoes at Disney chairman Michael Eisner because the Disney uniforms are not part of their precious culture.

Would putting Mickey Mouse in a beret solve their problem? Those dirty scumbags with those stupid berets. They're not even hats. A piece of cloth should cover your head if it's going to be called a hat. That's not a hat, it's an oversized yarmulke. That ridiculous cowboy hat Garth Brooks wears is more sensible.

Think about it. Why would any sane American businessman want to invest good money with those dogs after they piss all over a new enterprise?
Screw them and their Eiffel Tower!
I don't know anyone who's been over there and hasn't been disappointed by the Eiffel Tower. They should knock it over on its side, point it toward Euro Disney, and use it as a road directional sign. This Eiffel Tower is a major tourist attraction? It looks like it was made with an Erector set. We should take all the French to New York and show them the Empire State Building. That's what the Eiffel Tower would look like if they ever completed construction.

But Howard, you might say, what about ze French women? The hell with French women and their hairy legs. Unless they're chambermaids and they're using their legs to pick up dust in the rooms, they're useless. We got the best women right here. Catherine Deneuve is fat and has small tits. Brigitte Bardot was okay in her prime but now she looks just like those fucking dogs she takes care of. And what's with those bidets French women use? I once asked a Frenchie on my show what the hell those bidets were for anyway. Something about cleaning the vagina and asshole. What about toilet paper? You mean this great French inventor felt a need to develop something beyond toilet paper? A porcelain water fountain for my asshole. This is overkill. You want to work on something? Work on a cure for cancer.

Unfortunately, the only time I get to directly rag on French people is when their broadcasters come to "observe" me in the studio. They really come to steal whatever they can understand of my radio show. One time I got a visit from this guy named Louique, who was the musical director of some station in Paris.

He was one of those smooth, good-looking French guys that women get a fondue going in their panties over. Radio in France must really blow 'cause his idea of good radio was to play a lot of so-called world music, which is mostly weird Japanese noises and a lot of African stuff, with people sitting around bongoing on rocks and every once in a while banging the plates in their lips to break

up the monotony. So I really unloaded on Louique.

"Charles de Gaulle was a pussy. Maurice Chevalier sucks. Laurence Olivier sucks and Charo was a pussy."

"But Laurence Olivier
ees
English, and Charo, she is from Spain," he said.

"Big deal, it's all Europe," I said. "Your whole country is filled with snail eaters. Your only hero besides a hunchback is that little bastard Napoleon! And what's with Jerry Lewis being a genius? He's considered an asshole here. Know what else I don't like? You're hiding that child rapist Roman Polanski. Send him back."

I was on a roll but the lad was here for fatherly radio advice. "Look, the only purpose for radio is to make money. You can buy a stereo and play weird world-music records in your house. This is a business, get the most you can, cut the balls out from under your competition. Screw 'em and make the most money. You French guys don't like the Jews, either. You're anti-Semites."

"No, we have no such -- " he protested.

"You're anti-Israel! What's the beef with them, a bunch of Jews just trying to live in the desert? Hey, what's a dreidel? Do you know?"

"I don't know."

"What's a yarmulke?"

"I don't know."

At the mike berating the French .. . "Jerry Lewis is an asshole."

"What's a Hanukkah?"

"I don't know, my English isn't so good."

"I rest my case. He's totally ignorant. Yves Montand sucks. Louis Malle's a creep. Toulouse-Lautrec was a troll. And we know most French designers are homos."

"Yes, that's true," he was forced to admit.

Since he'd come for my advice as a respected radio personality in America, here's what I offered: "The more money you make at a radio station, the better it is. Because when you have money you have power, and when you have power, you have freedom, freedom to bomb Libya. Just remember these words: Radio is business. Don't put up a fight. Repeat after me. Radio ..."

"Radio ..." He was doing it.

"is..."

"... a business....Say it."

He repeated it like a frog parrot.

"Now you've learned and now my job is done and you can leave. Good luck."

"Yeah, good luck, too," he said.

"You're not insulted, are you?" I said solicitously.

"No, not at all."

"You should be. I don't understand. What, am I slipping? Did I forget anything? Jerry Lewis ... Libya... the Eiffel Tower is ugly." I couldn't get to him. So I had Fred put on a Hitler speech with sound effects of sheep baaing over it. "Remember that voice," I said. "That's who we saved you from. You should play that on your station every day and say, 'God bless America for kicking ass when we were lying down like sheep.' Play this every day instead of all that Japanese music. Japan was bombing you.
No one remembers. I remember."

THE KRAUTS

But it's not just the French. I get Kraut broadcasters, too. The Casey Kasems of Buchenwald all come to learn at the half-Jewish feet of the greatest radio personality in the world. I guess they can smell a gold tooth a mile away. And they all have such stupid names. Fritz, Hans, Claus; those names are no good for the radio. I give

them good wacky radio names like Adolf the K, Cousin Nazi, or Wolfman Jackboots. One time I was invaded by six of them, at once. Six of Germany's future broadcasters were booked to come to my studio and observe American radio. These six sons of storm troopers were here to soak up all of my great radio wisdom so I put them through the usual drill.

When they first came into the studio, I told them, "I do crazy stuff on the air. Crazy stuff like 'Let's throw
ze Jews
in
ze oven,
we
haffa
contest today. All you Jews line up. Ninety-second caller goes in the oven. Shouldn't you give us your ovaries now? Okay everybody, it's Human Lampshade Thursday.'"

They looked at me with tight grins and steely blue eyes. They didn't think I was funny. Meanwhile, they were one generation away from the
shitheads
who
fucked
with us during World War II.

"Let me tell you." I suddenly got serious. "As Germany has known for years, gold is the way to invest. You guys have been into gold for years. In fact, my grandmother had a lot of gold teeth I want back. Nineteen people in her family were wiped out. Hey listen, let bygones be bygones. Seriously, some of my best friends are Germans. My grandfather thought he'd outsmart everyone, he swallowed his teeth before they took him to the chambers, but they found them in the ashes."

They weren't laughing. But I wanted the Germans to understand that this ugly American still held a grudge about that stupid Holocaust thing.

"Nobody would have gotten so upset if you didn't exterminate people. You moved too quick. Japan's got the right idea. Now they're our friends, and they're conquering us. Let's band together, let's be brothers." Now they really looked confused.

"Seriously, you guys are the master race, right? You're good-looking guys. Blond hair, blue eyes. Wish my parents would have been bred better. I'm wearing dark glasses to hide my big nose. Hey, I forgive you. Look how quickly we forgave the Jews for killing Jesus.

"Remember we're all brothers. Next time some drunk goes into a beer hall, ignore him. If he starts talking about world domination, say, 'Look, we're happy, our standard of living is way up. We have jobs in radio.'"

Just then my producer, Baba Booey, came into the studio. There

was an angry listener calling in. We put her on the air.

"Is this Howard Stern? I think you're the rudest person in the world. Everything you said about Germans I found very rude and offensive and I don't know how those Germans can just sit there and let you talk about them like that."

"How old are you?" Robin asked.

"I am sixteen years old. I was born in Germany and I find everything you said very rude. Making fun of Germans, talking about Hitler, all that garbage." She was whining like a girl from the Five Towns.

"You don't think we should talk about Hitler?" I asked.

"It happened about forty years ago. Why don't you just leave it. You're acting like the Germans today still act that way. We're a new generation of Germans, we had nothing to do with what happened back then and most of those people didn't want it to happen."

Even though she was sixteen, I lost it. I started yelling. "Most of the people didn't want it to happen, honey, is that it? Your father ought to take you and spank you, you big dummy ..."

"You're a real asshole," she retorted.

"Well, you are, too. Go to hell. The hell with you." I hung up on her. What a world-class philosopher this moron was.

On the air teaching the Krauts about Human Lampshade Thursday.

Gilbert Gottfried, who was in the studio with me that day, started

imitating her in a whining voice: "Stop talking to the Germans about Hitler and play more New Kids on the Block. Stop talking about the Holocaust, we want more Debbie Gibson!"

The Germans had had enough history for one day. It was time to wind this down. "You're gonna have to hide up in the attic with Anne Frank," Robin said cheerfully.

"God forbid, with my flatulence problem." I cut a big one. "Hah, a Jew."

MY IMMIGRATION POLICY

Wherever I'm born, I stay, that's my rule of thumb. I don't try to go anywhere else. I'm happy where I am. The problem is, nobody else feels the same. Take the Mexicans. They're nice people. I got nothing against Mexicans, but if they're Mexicans, they should be in Mexico. And the ones that come here are so angry. Of course, I'd be confused and angry, too, if I had dark skin and "white people's hair. Speaking of hair, how do you like those Hispanic chicks who dye their hair blond? That's an attractive look. No wonder some Spanish guys are ready to rape any white woman who comes along.

Look, if it was up to me I would open the world's borders to everyone so they could go anywhere. The only problem is that the United States is the only good country in the world. I don't see the Japanese opening their borders. The Germans try to rout anyone else out. Even Australia, a nation of criminals, keeps immigrants out. We take everybody's trash. We used to have an immigration policy in this country. During WWII a boat of nine hundred Jews tried to get into this country and we turned them away. Now no one's turned away. We used to get lawyers and professors coming here, fleeing intolerance. We got German rocket scientists, the crème de la crème. Now we get guys who aren't fit to be janitors.

We're bankrupt because it costs a fortune to assimilate all these immigrants. We're spending a fortune on social programs for people who come here with no skills, no jobs, and nothing to do. They have to be put on welfare. And we have to hire special bilingual teachers.

Then they want signs in Spanish.
Excuse me, this is America. We speak English here.

It's not just the Mexicans. A lot of people who come to this country don't want to assimilate. That's the difference between now and when my grandparents immigrated from Russia and Italy. They were so embarrassed that they couldn't read that they spent all their time trying to learn how to read and speak English.

When my grandparents came here, this was a huge, underpopulated country. Now it's filled up. But people still come and it's the fault of the damn French. They gave us that stupid Statue of Liberty to trick us. Some gift. Look what it's been attracting.

I remember one Haitian woman who called in to my show the day that I was discussing the Dominicans burning down Washington Heights, their own neighborhood, to protest a white cop who shot a drug dealer named Garcia. Hey, where I'm from, we give medals to cops who shoot drug dealers. Apparently, this Haitian woman was still steamed up about some comments I had made about Haitian immigrants.