Rubber Balls and Liquor (28 page)

Please realize, I don't mean to come across as anti-Arab with this one last joke. I'll have you know, I've seen every episode of
Make Room for Daddy.

Let me get back to the public service part of this book deal. My idea was to sell tons and tons of books, destroying acres and acres of inconsequential American forest, and at the other end of the transaction we'd plant a bunch of trees in the homeland of my people. After that, the trees would grow and flourish, and in a couple years, after I'd done some growing and flourishing of my own, I could travel to Israel before I die and take a nice walk in the park where my trees had been planted and enjoy a short nap in the shade of my own making. Who knows, I might even be inspired to sit beneath one of my trees and read a book. By some other comic. Who's not as funny as me.

It's the circle of life.

And the best part is it's environmentally correct. It's just made out of paper, this book, so you can recycle it. You can even recycle some of the jokes—because God knows that's what I've been doing, all these years. This gives me great satisfaction, because being green is so fashionable these days. A lot of the hotter, better-looking young actresses in Hollywood seem to be in favor of it, so I'm all for it. Anything to improve my chances. Now that I think about it, it doesn't even matter to me if you've read the whole thing, from beginning to end. I don't care, as long as you bought it. That could be the entire extent of your commitment, as far as I'm concerned. If you took it out of the library and then didn't read it, then we'd have a problem. But as long as you've paid your way, do whatever you want. Rip the pages from the spine and use them to wipe your ass, for all I care—although, now that I think about
this
it feels to me like something I should have known, going in. It would have been helpful. I mean, if you weren't going to read the book anyway, I wouldn't have gone to all that trouble to put so many words on each and every page. I could have left all the pages blank.

(Note to critics: that “left all the pages blank” line is my gift to you. You're welcome.)

 

CLOSING CREDITS

“I'd Like to Thank the Academy”

This is the “thanks” part of the book. It's like one of those long acceptance speeches at the Oscars. In fact, if this part gets long and boring and you're lucky enough to be near a piano, please feel free to tinkle a few notes on the keyboard to let me know it's time to wrap up and get off the stage.

You see, giving thanks is like leaving tips or giving gifts on Christmas. You really don't want to, but it's expected of you and you're too much of a pussy not to.

So here goes. Most importantly, I'd like to thank my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. In the middle of this book, when I thought there were no more places I could fit the words “cock” or “cunt,” He came down and pointed to several spots I had apparently missed. Turns out He has a really good eye for that sort of thing.

On a more earthly plane, I'd like to thank my parents, because without them I would never have been born. (A final note to readers: I'll now give everyone a few seconds to say, “And why would that have been bad?”) I'd also like to thank my sisters, Arlene and Karen. They didn't help with the book, but they like seeing their names in print. So there.

I'd like to thank Marc Guss and Dan Strone, as well as Marc Resnick and everyone at St. Martin's Press for waiting until I left the room to say, “Who thought a Gilbert Gottfried book was a good idea?”

I'd like to thank a man who stood behind me … in the men's room, when I was trying to pee.

I'd like to thank Dan Paisner, for stopping me every three words to say, “Can you talk a little slower?”

They say that behind every truly great man there's an overbearing Jew bitch who screeches, “Gilbert, shut off the television and get back to work on the book! We've had the same dining room set for an hour and a half! It's time to get a newer, much more expensive set!” So, thank you to my wife, Dara.

Lastly, I'd like to thank my nephew Graham, for yelling “Ca Ca Booty!” at his preschool teacher. A few more outbursts like that and St. Martin's Press will offer him a book deal.

 

RUBBER BALLS AND LIQUOR
. Copyright © 2011 by Gilbert Gottfried. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin's Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.

www.stmartins.com

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Gottfried, Gilbert, 1955–

Rubber balls and liquor / Gilbert Gottfried. — 1st ed.

        p. cm.

ISBN 978-0-312-66811-2

  1.  Gottfried, Gilbert, 1955–   2.  Comedians—United States—Biography.   3.  Actors—United States—Biography.   4.  American wit and humor.   I.  Title.

PN2287.G656A3 2011

792.7'6028092—dc22

2010054558

First Edition: May 2011

eISBN 978-1-4299-7856-9

First St. Martin's Press eBook Edition: April 2011

*
This footnote is for readers who might be unfamiliar with the work of Leopold and Loeb, two famous college students who were known as “the thrill killers” in the 1920s, after kidnapping and murdering a little boy in what they thought would go down as the perfect crime. I include this information so readers will understand the reference, and enjoy the full humor of the piece. Also, I'm told that writers who use footnotes in their books come across as particularly smart and scholarly, so I'm going for that as well.