Supreme Court says pornography is anything without artistic merit that causes sexual thought, that’s their definition, essentially. No artistic merit, causes sexual thought. Hmm. Sounds like…every commercial on television, doesn’t it? You know, when I see those two twins on that Doublemint commercial? I’m not thinking of gum. I am thinking of chewing, maybe that’s the connection they’re trying to make. What? You’ve all seen that Busch beer commercial, where the girl in the short hot pants opens the beer bottle on her belt buckle, leaves it there, and it foams over her hand and over the bottle and the voice over goes, “Get yourself a BUSCH.” Hmm. You know what that looks like, nah, no way.

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More from Bill Hicks

It’s just a ride, and we can change it any time we want. It’s only a choice. No effort, no work, no job, no savings and money, a choice, right now, between fear and love. The eyes of fear want you to put bigger locks on your door, buy guns, close yourself off. The eyes of love instead see all of us as one.

You ever noticed how people who believe in creationism look really unevolved? You ever noticed that? Eyes real close together, eyebrow ridges, big furry hands and feet.

Relentless (stand-up comedy routine)

I don’t do drugs any more…than the average touring funk band.

That is one of my big fears in life, that I’m gonna die, you know, and my parents are gonna come to clean out my apartment, find that porno wing I’ve been adding onto for years.

I’ll tell you, too, that’s starting to depress me about UFO’s, about the fact that they cross galaxies, or wherever they come from to visit us, and always end up in places like Fife, Alabama. Maybe these are not super-intelligent beings, man. Maybe they’re like hillbilly aliens. Some intergalactic Joad family or something. “Don’t you all want to land in New York, or L.A.?” “Nah, we just had a long trip, we gonna kick back and whittle some.” Oh, my God, they’re idiots. “We’re gonna enter our mothership in the tractor pull!” My God, we’re being invaded by rednecks. My biggest fear. Last thing I want to see is a flying saucer up on blocks in front of some trailer, you know? Wouldn’t that be depressing? Some bumper sticker on it – “They’ll get my ray gun when they pry my cold, dead, eighteen-fingered hand off of it.”