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Downloaded from YTS.MX
Man: This is former commander to the Commander in Chief Dick Cheney
Official YIFY movies site: YTS.MX
reminding you that there's no flash photography
and all cell phones, pagers, electronic devices
should be left on during the show
so they may be swept up in our broad,
yet semi-legal net of intelligence gathering.
Also, because I have awarded
a no-bid contact to Halliburton
to operate the restrooms,
toilet paper is now $15 a sheet.
Enjoy the show
and go fuck yourselves.
So you can come back and pick me up later?
Thank you.
That was weird.
When the pilots of Marine One said they were gonna
said they were gonna drop me off in New York City,
I thought they were joking.
I said sure.
You know, "While you're at it, why don't you drop me off in the faggy Theater District?"
And guess what? They did.
So, uh... so the joke's on me.
But let me be clear about something. I'm just kidding, okay?
I don't think theater's faggy.
Except for "Cats."
And "I Love You, You're Perfect, Now Change."
Yeah, that one's queer and Yiddish-y.
You know, if you want to treat yourself
to just a wonderful night out at the theater,
just an outstanding show about pride,
work ethic,
and values,
without any sort of gay agenda,
go see "Rent."
Laura and I must've seen that show no less than 80 times.
♪ 525,600 minutes ♪
♪ How do you measure a year in the life? ♪
That's a little something from "Rent."
Yeah.
But we're not here tonight to sing show tunes.
We're here to remember
and cherish,
and celebrate my last eight years of service to you,
the fine citizens of this nation
because as of, what, about seven weeks ago,
I'm now "George W. Bush,
former President of the United States."
(audience cheering)
Thank you. That's very sweet of you.
That's totally unexpected.
No, it's nice. Yeah.
Hey, look, here's the deal. I can't deny what happened
seven weeks ago.
It happened.
It's the Inauguration.
It's the law.
And I'll be honest with you.
I'm a fan of the Tiger Woods guy.
I, uh...
I like him.
I like him. He seems like a smart guy.
He's a great speechmaker.
Every time he talks, it's like Shakespeare
having sex with a bottle of Courvoisier.
You know?
His words just wash over you
like hot butterscotch pudding, you know?
It's just like...
"Don't stop." You know?
But tonight's about me, okay?
This is my farewell, and...
sure, it's a bit melancholy.
But with every ending there are new beginnings,
much the same way the break-up of the Beatles
gave us a far superior band in Wings...
or the end of "Friends"
gave us "Joey."
Did you just roll your eyes at me?
You right there in the second row, you just roll your eyes at me?
Man: This is the third row. No, I can count.
It's the second row.
See, in the theater the third row is called the second row.
That's how they do it.
Tell you right now you'd better wipe that smirk off your face, okay?
I'll have you removed.
It's not a big deal.
You're probably from "The New York Times." You from "The New York Times"?
No.
Are you Paul Krug?
No.
Are you Thomas J. Friedman?
Are you Maureen O'Dowd?
No. No, I'm not a woman.
You're not a woman? Is that what you said? No.
You a comedian? Are you like a funny guy?
Are you Sinbad?
Are you Penn and Teller?
Watch yourself, okay?
"New York Times." Give me a break.
Let us pray.
Dear Lord Jesus Christ...
and by "Jesus Christ," I'm referring to blond, good-looking,
lightly-bearded or clean-shaven Jesus Christ.
Not hippie-looking Jesus,
or swarthy, more- middle-eastern-looking Jesus...
who's probably more historically accurate--
not that guy.
So dear clean-shaven or...
lightly-beared- like-Mike-Piazza Jesus...
we give thanks to you and to everything you do.
Your love and acceptance washes over all of us
like the warm healing waters
of one of those European toilets that cleans the inside and out.
I believe it's called a "bidett."
Dear blond...
almost-Swiss-looking Jesus,
we ask you to allow us to accept everyone in this theater tonight,
regardless of their religious beliefs
whether it be Muslim or Hindu
or Jewish or witchcraft.
Dear sweet-smelling -of-lavender-
and-Dial-soap Jesus,
bring us together tonight in solidarity,
and not "separatude."
Dear life-of-the-party, always-with-a-funny-joke Jesus,
walking around in a cool pair of Crocs,
holding a can of Diet Slice,
making people wonder at the party,
"Wait, is there Diet Slice at the party?"
"No, Jesus brought his own."
"Oh, 'cause I would really love some Diet Slice."
"Well, don't talk to me. Talk to Jesus.
"Seriously, don't embarrass me in front of Jesus.
"It took him a lot to come to my party.
"So don't bug him.
"Great. Now he left. Way to go, man.
He took his Diet Slice with him."
That Jesus.
Once again, we thank you for everything you do,
and want to remind everyone in this theater
that by participating in this prayer,
they have automatically accepted Jesus Christ as their lord and savior,
regardless of their religious beliefs,
they cannot get out of it no matter what,
retroactive as soon as I say "Amen." Amen.
So after eight years, this crazy ride's over.
Can I be honest with you?
I feel as free as balls in boxers.
Yeah.
I can now do anything I want.
Hell, I might even have a beer tonight.
Or better yet, smoke a joint.
Or a "spleef" as they say in the hip-hop community
Yeah.
Put on a little Common...
or Nas. Yeah.
Hell, I'm such a wild card right now,
I might even show a picture of my penis.
Throw my penis up there. Go ahead, do it.
Throw it up there. Come on, now.
That's how unpredictable I am.
If you're sitting there and you think it didn't happen,
or it was maybe a mirage,
I'll do it again. Do it again!
Throw it up there again.
That's what you call "shock and awe" right there.
That's my stimulus package.
That one doesn't cost you 800 bajillion-
billion-jillion- Monopoly money dollars.
I asked my Secret Service guy there, Jerry,
to score me some sticky green buds tonight
and this is what he delivered.
It's called "Panamanian Devil's Crotch."
So you know it's good.
You know what else I found out?
I get Secret Service detail for the next 10 years.
So for the next 10 years, I get a guy like Jerry
right here at my beck and call.
Go ahead, bones it out.
Believe me, that's a bromance in the making right there.
(one loud clapping)
Clapping for the bromance. I love it.
So for the next 10 years,
Secret Service has to do anything I want.
For instance, if I'm at a Reba McEntire concert...
and I'm too tired to walk back to the car,
Secret Service has to, by law,
carry me piggyback
back to the parking lot.
Or if I decide to get a tattoo on my back
of that scary-looking Jewish character
from all the "Lord of the Rings" movies...
What's his name?
Skinny little Jewish guy, what's his name?
(audience answering) Gollum. Gollum. Yeah.
Gollum. If I decide to get a tattoo of Gollum on my back...
which I've threatened to do countless times, yeah...
and I don't got the money on me,
Secret Service has to spot me.
And by "spot me," I mean,
"give me the money that I will forget to pay back."
This is all paid for by you, the taxpayers.
Don't get mad at me. I'm just benefiting from the system
that's already in place.
It's one of the many perks, if you will.
(mocking laugh)
So here we are.
Just you and me.
Face to face.
Mano y mano.
I don't know how many of you are familiar
with a news agency by the name of CNN.
They came out with a poll in May of 2008
that states that I'm the most unpopular president
in modern US history.
71% of Americans
at that time.
That means you guys in this theater
unless you happen to be an illegal,
in which I suggest you leave.
Once again, wipe that smirk off your face.
Do you hear me?
Do you hear me?
I used to be a cheerleader at Yale, okay?
They don't just hand that shit out.
Anyway...
71% of Americans
at that time disapproved of the job that I was doing.
that's an all-time-- well, that's one poll. That's one poll.
So don't get cocky.
Fox News poll was exactly the opposite
if you check.
Anyway, 71% of Americans at that time,
they disapproved of the job that I was doing.
That's an all-time high for a disapproval rating.
That's higher than Truman, higher than Nixon.
Kinda crazy if you ask me.
I mean, hell, they made a movie about me while I was still president.
Yeah, starring Josh Brolin.
He's a good-looking guy.
That's got to be good for something.
They could have cast someone awful like Sean Penn...
or Diego Luna.
You gotta understand, no president's perfect,
but almost 3/4 of the country not liking me?
I can't accept that.
Diego Luna.
So before you make up your mind,
before the powers that be
close up the "anals" of history...
hear me out,
and get to know the man.
(guitar music playing)
I was born July 6th, 1946
in New Haven, Connecticut.
I'm the firstborn child
of George Herbert Walker Bush
and Barbara "Scary Lady" Bush.
I got three younger brothers and a sister.
We're a tight-knit family.
We like to goof off, joke around,
have a good time.
Brother Jeb,
he used to be governor of Florida.
Brother Neil,
he did some savings and loan stuff back in the '80s.
And brother Marvin...
and sister Dorothy...
are great.
They do things too.
Like I was saying, we're a tight-knit unit.
I've said this before and I'll say it again.
Families is where our nation finds hope,
where wings take dream.
Think about that for a second.
Where wings...
take dream.
It's a pretty powerful statement.
I grew up mostly in the Midland
and Houston areas of Texas.
We got any folks here from Texas tonight?
(scattered cheers)
You know, it's funny.
People who meet me say they see a certain swagger.
Well, in Texas, that's called walking.
Where in Texas you from? Woman: Dallas!
Dallas?
A lot of peop-- (audience shouting place names)
What was the other one?
Houston? A lot of good cocaine in Houston.
Gets hot there in the summertime though, doesn't it? Yeah.
They got good Tex-Mex, though, right?
Yeah. Real good to have you here.
Anyway...
Midland is not like New York.
It's a lot more gradual lifestyle,
but in looking back,
it was the perfect place for wings to take dream.
I was a...
I was a simple, normal kid.
I liked to do simple, normal things.
Like shoot wrist rockets at a stray cat
strapped to a propane tank.
Just basic mischief, you know?
This one time, we shot up a sleeping hobo
full of Novocaine
and then we'd yell "Pie on a windowsill,"
and they'd wake up all numb and poor
and...
and we'd laugh.
But that's just the type of stuff you do growing up in Midland.,
when you're a young, precocious little 30-year-old.
Hey, but let it be known here and now,
I'm a Texan through and through,
a Texan who was born in Connecticut,
went to boarding school in Massachusetts,
and college at Yale and Harvard.
I would've gone to the University of Texas for law school,
but there was one small issue.
I was not accepted.
My time at Yale was great. (bell chiming)
It was very formative.
I received a Bachelor's Degree in history,
and my nickname was "Gin and Tonic."
(bell dings)
While at Yale, I was a member of a secret society
called the Skull and Bones,
which I used to call "Skull and Boners."
The guys thought that was funny for about a month.
Then they asked me to please stop.
But I didn't
'cause I'm tenacious.
The society is so secret, I have to stop talking about it.
I can't tell you anything more about it.
Okay, I'll tell you one thing,
but it does not leave the theater, okay?
During the intense initiation period,
you have to divulge all your sexual exploits
to your potential fellow brothers.
I revealed to the group
how I'd just participated in my first threesome
with two hot Latina women.
And a guy named Dave Rothschild.
What I didn't realize was this was actually a four-way.
I always thought a threesome was three people plus yourself.
Yeah, we all had a good laugh about that.
Then someone said, "Seriously though,
"why was another guy there in the first place?"
And I explained how he wasn't there at first.
At first, it was just me and the two hot Latina women,
gettin' at it.
('70s music playing)
And I mean getting at it.
There was muff flying everywhere.
I'm talking knee-deep in muff.
Had to get your muff-waders on.
You know what I mean?
You would not know what I mean.
Needless to say, there was a high volume of muff.
Is there anyone at this point of the story who's confused
as to how much muff there was?
'Cause I can keep going with the analogies.
(audience members shout)
Okay, you know the Great Wall of China?
Imagine that's made entirely of muff.
You know those water cannons that riot police shoot
to hose down crowds?
Imagine the only thing coming out is liquid muff...
at like 3,000 pounds per second.
Yeah.
We got it covered?
Okay. Muff said.
Anyway, I look up and there's this guy standing there.
He says, "Hi, I'm Dave Rothschild."
I'm like, "Do I know you, Dave?"
He's like, "No, I don't think so."
I'm like, "Do you go to Yale?"
He's like, "No, I'm from out of town.
I just got off a bus from Denver."
Well, anyway, I didn't want to lose momentum,
so I got back into the flow.
Next thing you know,
Dave Rothschild makes a pretty seamless transition
into the group...
and something special is happening.
Two hours later,
I didn't know where our four bodies end and where they begin.
It was like the "Kama Sutra"
combined with the power of The Hulk
at a Dave Matthews concert.
In other words, it just felt right.
Let me fast forward to my time in the Air National Guard.
Between 1972 and 1973,
there's a little blip on my record.
By blip, I mean lack of documentation
that I was ever even around.
Those in the media have claimed that I went AWOL.
Well, I just want to say
here for the first time tonight,
yes.
I was indeed AWOL.
I was living in Vermont with Dave Rothschild.
(folk ballad playing)
It was a wonderful period of exploration in my life.
Dave and I would go on long walks in the woods,
write poetry to each other.
I'd express my fear of going to the Vietnam War
and Dave would validate those fears.
Ours was a relationship of trust
and male spirit.
Although it was never sexual,
we weren't afraid to cry in each other's arms,
or give each other
western-grip hand jobs.
See, that's a normal hand job right here.
This is western-grip right here.
You getting that all the way up at the top there?
Can you see that?
The thumb remains unencumbered
for exploring.
Diego Luna.
Dave Rothschild and his massive 6'6" frame
and long, jet-black hair
was my salvation.
There you have it.
That's my big secret.
By the way, none of this leaves the theater, okay?
I could get kicked out of the Skull and Bones forever.
So after my time in Vermont with Dave Rothschild,
here's what happened. (percussive beat)
I met my wife Laura. We had twins.
I ran for Congress. I lost.
I started an energy exploration company.
It went bankrupt.
But I sold all my stock right before that happened,
which some people said was illegal.
Then my dad became president and guess what?
Criminal investigation of my stock sale
just went away. Ha ha!
By then, I owned part of the Texas Rangers.
I then sold my part, got a nifty $15 million return
on my initial $800,000 investment.
I then became governor of Texas.
I'm the first governor in Texas state history
to be elected to two consecutive terms.
As governor, my highlights included
reinstating a bill
that allowed for citizens to carry
concealed weapons into churches,
nursing homes,
and amusement parks.
There are more executions in my state
than any other state in the union.
and on June 10th, 2000,
I proclaimed it to be Jesus Day in Texas.
(bell dings)
Now how many other states had a Jesus day?
I'll tell you.
None.
♪ Satan is real ♪
♪ Working in spirit ♪
♪ He can tempt you and lead you astray ♪
(electronic music playing)
Various voices: We are applying the Bush doctrine.
Any statement I did or did not make
or would or would not make...
Senator, welcome to our...
I don't have any recollection or awareness of that.
Is there anything of yours that we could keep as a memento of this visit?
Take California.
Fear... The decisive leadership
of President George W. Bush.
(music fades)
(insects chirping)
I love it out here on our ranch in Crawford.
The rich smell of sage and mesquite
fills up your lungs when you wake up in the morning.
Sometimes it fills up your lungs so much
you start to feel nauseous,
and you get splitting headaches
and you realize it's not the mesquite you're inhaling,
but exhaust fumes from the leaf blower that you've had on your back
that you left running for over an hour.
This is my sanctuary.
Working the land.
Repairing fences.
Stacking rocks.
I know every little trail out here.
Ow.
Every little arroyo in this sliver of God's country.
Shh, shh, shh, shh. (mimicking bird call)
(mimicking bird call)
I'm trying to track a wild sage hen.
(mimicking bird call)
(cooing)
(mimicking bird call)
Ah, fuck, it's not working.
Like I was saying, I know this land like the back of my hand.
And heck, I should.
I established a record for most vacation days
taken by a president.
40%-- yeah.
40% of my time in office
was spent at one presidential retreat or another.
I'm proud of that record.
During that time, I watched "Carlito's Way"
over 800 times.
Mmm.
It's true.
This ranch means so much to me and Laura.
Nothing's more American
or therapeutic in my opinion
than obsessively clearing brush.
Oh hell, who are we kidding?
We're hoping to sell this place by June.
Karl Rove made me buy it
back in '99 to seem more folksy.
But can I be honest with you? I don't know what the fuck I'm doing out here.
I almost got lockjaw three different times
from cutting myself on rusted barbwire.
It's a hot, dusty,
heatstroke-inducing hellhole out here.
We're so excited
now that we're moved into our whites-only community in Dallas
where I can pay immigrants
to clear my brush for me...
the way God intended.
Here's the other thing that used to piss me off.
None of the families would ever come visit us out here.
I'd be like, "Hey, Mom,
Dad, Jeb, why don't we have Thanksgiving at Crawford this year?"
"Oh, we'd love to, but...
Kennebunkport. It's a tradition."
"Oh really?
"Well, Maine can blow me, okay?
"While you guys are sitting around opening Christmas presents
"under a beautiful blanket of New England snowfall,
"I can't even go outside
'cause it's 119 degrees."
One time I did convince all the families
to come here at Easter.
I took all the Bush men-- Dad, Jeb,
Neil, Marvin,
on a tour of an old abandoned mineshaft
I found on the outskirts of the ranch.
It was fun.
All the Bush guys reminiscing,
clowning around
in an old abandoned mineshaft,
when wouldn't you know it? It collapsed on us.
We'd be trapped for three days
and the whole while my dad's up my ass,
saying things like, "God damn it, George,
did you test the shaft to see if it was safe?"
I'm like, "No, of course not.
"It's just an abandoned mineshaft.
"You just go climb around in it.
"Besides, I thought you'd like it
'cause it's historical."
Jeb's like, "Everyone shut up. We gotta conserve oxygen."
I'm like, "I don't give a shit.
"God's got a plan for me.
If this is the way I go, then this is the way I go."
Then my dad's like, "Gimme a fuckin' break!
Did you tell anyone where we were going?"
I'm like, "No, I didn't!
I only thought we'd be gone an hour."
He's like, "You gotta be kidding me."
All of a sudden Marvin started screaming,
"I crushed my maid with a car!"
And then Neil started yelling,
"I once had sex with 30 Thai hookers at once!"
Jeb's like, "I'm being serious. Let's conserve oxygen."
I'm like, "Enough with the damn oxygen!"
Then my dad's like, "Why are you the only one in this family
"that speaks with a Texas accent?
It makes no sense!"
I'm like, "Do I? Do I have an accent?
'Cause if I do, I can't hear it."
And just then as my dad was about to lunge for my neck,
we heard some rocks moving.
Outside was my mom, all ripped and muscular,
throwing boulders away from the opening of the mineshaft.
She then pulled us out one by one
and placed us on a cart
and then pulled the cart
like a powerful draft horse.
All the way back home
her deltoids twitching,
her loins covered in a milky white froth.
It was one of the most gross and impressive things
I'd ever seen.
I was crying and barfing
all at the same time.
You know what they say?
Whatever doesn't kill you just makes you stronger.
Sometimes, however,
the thing that almost killed you
probably just should've killed you.
You know...
you just feel more scared as a result.
Anyway...
They'll be here at the Crawford Ranch in November of 2000
when we wait for the election returns
of my first presidential campaign.
I remember that night was extremely frustrating
partly because the information kept changing all the time
and partly because there was literally nothing
to watch on TV.
Except stupid election coverage.
You know?
Not even a break to watch "Dog the Bounty Hunter."
Nothing.
There was so much back and forth, it made my head spin.
First exit polling in the liberal news media
was saying that Gore had won Florida.
Then they said it went back to undecided.
Then they said that I had won
and Gore is calling me to congratulate me.
"Guess what, Al? I'm gonna celebrate
"by shooting off these M80s
I got on my last trip to Juarez."
He's like, "I beg your pardon?"
I'm like, "Nerd," and hung up the phone.
Then they said, "Hold on, hold on.
Don't shoot off the M80s yet,"
which I'd already taped to a "Hellboy" action figure.
Now it's within 2,000 votes. I'm like, "Well, hell,
I'm going to bed. It's 4:00 in the morning."
Then they said, "Gore's calling again."
I'm like, "What's his deal?"
He said this time he's calling
to take back his concession
'cause it's too close to call.
They're doing a statewide recall.
I'm like, "You can't take it back."
He's like, "Yes, I can."
I'm like, "No, you can't."
He's like, "Says who?"
I paused and I thought real hard.
Then I said, "The Geneva Convention, that's who,"
and I hung up the phone again.
Turns out I was wrong.
The Geneva Convention
pertains more to the laws
that will govern the moon once it's colonized.
But, uh...
it sure felt good in the moment.
So for one month,
all this BS goes on back and forth.
Then all of a sudden it stopped.
(thud)
December 12, 2000.
United States Supreme Court
ruled 7-2
that the Florida Supreme Court's plan
to recount the ballots was unconstitutional,
as well as a 5-4 decision
that ended the recount.
and allowed Florida to certify its vote.
I was...
I was down in the basement
playing with baseball cards
when Rove gave me the news.
He said, "Excuse me, Mr. President,
but we're going to Washington."
I paused, wondering who he was talking to.
Then for a moment,
I contemplated the odds of President Clinton
somehow sneaking into my basement...
and hiding behind me.
Slowly I turned around to make sure
that wasn't who Rove was talking to.
Then all of a sudden, it hit home.
He was talking to me.
"You're talking to me, aren't you?"
"I sure am," Rove said.
"Holy shit. We're going to Washington."
Rove just smiled
and we exchanged an awkward white-guy high five.
This was the big time!
♪ You had to be a big shot, didn't you? ♪
♪ You had to prove it to the crowd ♪
♪ You had to be a big shot, didn't you? ♪
(electronic music playing)
Various voices: Things are going pretty well.
W-What, what, what? What, what?
(stammering) W-W-W-W-- What, what?
In the war on terror,
we will always seek cooperation
from our allies around the world.
Enhanced interrogation techniques.
Yeah.
All right.
Yo. Yo, yo, yo! Yo, yo!
MC Folke!
M-M-M-MC Folke! (music fades)
Man: Ladies and gentlemen,
please rise for the 43rd president
of the United States of America,
George W. Bush.
("Hail to the Chief" playing)
Thanks for your support.
Tell your dad I say hi.
Too slow.
How's your wife doing? She good?
Oh my God, I didn't even see you there.
Did you lose weight?
No? You need to.
So I got the job, cool.
Didn't expect to get it in a way,
and if I'm being totally truthful,
I remember sitting here, thinking,
"Shit, I actually have to do this now."
Here's the thing,
no one tells you when you become president,
you hit the ground running.
And I mean, hauling ass.
Voices: Mr. President, did you have a chance to look at the PDP?
Mr. President, you have a 10:00 with the NSA.
Can you meet with the Joint Chiefs at some point?
DOD needs to get you to sign off on this.
Hi, Mr. President. Bob Galligan from Halliburton. Hi, Bob.
Ken Lay from Enron is waiting for you, Mr. President.
Mr. President, the CIA is certain that Freddy Krueger
is a fictional character and poses no threat.
Dissonant voices: EPA. NORAD. DOW CHEMICALS.
Health and Human Services. His excellency...
Patriot Act. Diego Luna.
WHO. WTC.
UN Security Council. CIA. FDA.
GEO. IFC. PBS.
No Child Left Behind.
OSHA. INS. NLG. FBI.
(yelling)
You see how annoying that can be?
Especially when you have no idea of what you're doing?
But in my defense,
who in their right mind would have any idea
what the job of being president entails?
Would you?
Would you?
Heckler: I would! Would you? Oh, you're full of shit.
You know what, Jerry? Kick this guy out.
You've been up my-- you son of a bitch!
Screw you, motherfucker!
Hey, fuck you, asshole!
I was the leader of the free world, dipshit!
You got to accept that.
I'm a guy you wanted to have a beer with.
(heckler yelling) You cocksucker!
Fuck you. Hey, fuck you!
Fuck you! Hey, I want my 401k back!
I want my 401k back. I lost like 1,000 bucks!
Take him out there and waterboard him, Jerry!
And don't tell me it's torture.
I've had it done. I find it relaxing.
It's a spa treatment at Bliss!
Look it up.
No shit, sherlock.
This guy right here.
I have the launch codes.
This phone.
If it rang,
and believe me, no president wants it to ring,
I had to pick it up,
make the call,
whether or not it was go time.
7,982 deployed warheads
ready to go if I said so.
No holds barred.
Let the big dogs hunt.
Take no prisoners.
Every dog has his day.
Our child is an honor student.
If this van's a-rockin', don't come a-knockin'.
Anyways...
you get the idea. Luckily, this phone's a prop.
But that's a scenario
no president ever wants to have to deal with.
Right here?
This is the phone that I used.
I got every important world leader
and their secret telephone numbers on this baby.
Actually, this is a replacement phone.
I dropped the original one
in a toilet at the Beijing Olympics, and...
believe me, it was unusable.
I got all the leaders of the G8 on here.
Stephen Harper from Canada.
Nicolas Sarkozy. France.
Angela Merkel.
German chancellor.
She holds all her tension in her neck.
Silvio Berlusconi. Italy.
Yeah. Great guy. I call him "Shoes"
'cause he wears very fine expensive Italian leather shoes.
Yasuo Fukuda. Japan.
First three times I met him,
I thought he was Daisuke from the Red Sox.
Turns out I was wrong.
These are just coming off the top of my head.
Dmitry Medvedev. Russia.
Gordon Brown. Great Britain.
One of our staunchest allies.
José Luis Zapatero.
From Spain.
Except they say it with a lisp.
(lisping) José Luis Zapatero.
From Barcelona.
"Vicky Cristina Barcelona."
"Let's go get sangria...
"and tapas...
"and go see 'Vicky Cristina Barcelona.'
Oh my God, this sangria is so delicious."
"I know, I love it.
It keeps you light on your feet."
"Excuse me, I was eavesdropping on your conversation.
Were you talking about 'Vicky Cristina Barcelona'?"
"Yes, we were. Did you like it?"
"I loved it. I love Penélope Cruz."
(speaks normally) Can I be honest with you? I'm addicted to talking that way.
It's fun. Yeah.
You'll probably be doing it on the car ride home.
Maybe not. I don't know.
I'm not a mind reader.
List goes on and on, man.
You know, I miss my phone.
I miss a lot of things about being president.
But mostly, I, uh...
I miss the people,
the fine men and women that I served with.
My Cabinet.
My road dawgs.
My posse.
In some ways,
I thought were just getting started.
♪ We've only just begun... ♪ (music continuing)
It all began with my VP.
Dick Cheney.
Some say the most powerful president--
I mean, vice president,
in US history.
A guy so charismatic,
he could shoot a man in the face with a shotgun...
and have that guy apologize to him.
Think about that.
That's some real Clint Eastwood shit right there, you know?
Yes, one time, I did walk in on Dick Cheney
down in the basement of the White House
and he was being fucked by a giant goat devil...
in a room full of pentagrams.
He looked up at me with solid silver glowing orb-like eyes
and his breath had a strong ammonia scent to it.
and he told me in a language that I knew in my heart
had not been spoken in over a thousand years...
(speaks demonic language)
I just ran. I just got the hell out of there.
Other than that, he's a real stand-up guy.
Rummy! Oh my God, I love this guy!
Funny? You don't even know!
I remember the day after 9/11,
he said, "Let's bomb Iraq 'cause they got all the good targets."
Isn't that funny?
Secretary of State Colin Powell.
Tried to tell us Iraq was a bad idea.
Tried to tell us suspension of habeas corpus was a bad idea.
Said to me,
"You break it, you own it."
Then he still went along with us, God love him.
I don't know who that guy is.
I don't know who that guy is.
White House Chief of Staff Andy Card.
A guy so dedicated,
his wife once asked him,
"Hey, are you married to me, or George W. Bush?"
I always got a kick out of that
'cause he was not married to me,
nor was that ever even discussed.
Secretary of Treasury Paul O'Neill.
He called my economic policies irresponsible.
Said I was unquestioning and uncurious.
Paul didn't last long.
Attorney General John Ashcroft.
He lost to a dead guy
in the 2000 Missouri Senate race.
So we thought, "He's free. Let's bring him on."
Mi hermano Alberto Gonzales.
(mimicking "Low Rider")
(mimicking hydraulic suspension)
Oh my God, this guy's so going to jail.
Gale Norton. Secretary of the Interior.
Mining advocate.
Elaine Chao. Secretary of Labor.
My little Asian spitfire.
Tommy Thompson. Secretary of Health and Human Services.
Great Gin player
and has funny jokes about Jews.
Wolfy, the man with the plan!
John Bolton. Nice mustache!
Richard Perle.
His fondest dream is to one day become a woman.
That's my penis. That shouldn't be in there.
And there he is...
The Architect.
Karl Rove.
Or as I used to call him, Turd Blossom.
(bell dings)
What can you say about this guy?
Swiftboat? Outing CIA agents?
Avoiding subpoenas?
Mark Fuller, Jack Abramoff, Jeff Gannon,
rigging elections, privatization of Social Security,
you name it.
This guy's a genius.
I miss my Cabinet.
They're a great group of folks,
and I think you could tell from their pictures
they were just fun to hang out with.
Especially little Richie Perle.
Can we throw his picture back up there?
Look at that little cuddle bear.
You tickle him underneath that jowl,
he'll laugh like a hyena for an hour.
I just wanted to put him in a big man-sized diaper
and carry him around in a BabyBjorn...
and feed him Cheerios and tickle his jowl.
"Come on, Richie.
"Let's get you down for your nap.
"Oh, you want more Cheerios? Here you go.
"Tickle, tickle, tickle.
Bye, Richie. Bye."
You know, there's one gal, I, uh...
I left off the list,
'cause it's still too painful to bring up.
I thought I'd be over her by now, but I'm not.
We used to sit around and talk about our hopes and our dreams.
She's the only one I'd stay up past 10:00 at night to talk to.
Don't get me wrong. I love my wife,
but this one was special.
What we had was something animal.
Something crazy.
Something raw.
("I Keep Forgettin'" playing)
♪ I keep forgettin' we're not in love any more ♪
♪ I keep forgettin' things will never be the same again ♪
♪ I keep forgettin' how you made that so clear ♪
♪ I keep forgettin' it all ♪
♪ Every time I hear ♪
♪ How you never want to live a lie ♪
♪ How it's gone too far ♪
♪ And you don't have to tell me why ♪
♪ Why you're gone ♪
♪ And why the game is through ♪
♪ If this is what's real ♪
♪ If this is what's true ♪
♪ Tell me how come ♪
Backup: ♪ I keep forgettin' we're not in love any more ♪
♪ Baby ♪
♪ I keep forgettin' things will never be the same again ♪
♪ I keep forgettin' how you made that so clear ♪
♪ Yeah, yeah, baby ♪
♪ Don't say that, don't say that, don't say that ♪
♪ I know you're not mine anymore ♪
♪ Anyway, anytime ♪
♪ Tell me how come ♪
♪ I keep forgettin' we're not in love anymore ♪
♪ How come? ♪
♪ I keep forgettin' things will never be the same again ♪
♪ I keep forgettin' how you made that so clear ♪
♪ I keep forgetting... ♪
(music fades)
Condi was my rock.
I miss her dearly.
My little San Francisco treat.
My little Rice-a-roni.
Mmn.
You know, one of my legacies as president I'm most proud of
is my great love of reading.
There's a pretty good chance I'm probably gonna be known as the Reading President
or the Great Reader.
I think I've shown over the last eight years
I love reading many different things,
from Camus
to Danielle Steele,
to a book I've read no less than 200 times--
"He's Just Not That Into You."
That really helped me with my relationship with Putin.
Right here is probably the book I'll be most known for.
Within it is the story of "The Pet Goat."
"The Pet Goat" is the story of a girl's pet goat that eats everything in its path.
The girl's parents want to give the goat away,
but she defends it.
Ultimately, the goat becomes a hero
when it butts a car robber into submission.
A mere eight months into my presidency on September 11th,
I'm interrupted from reading
one of the more fascinating stories
I've ever come across
with news that the world as we know it has gone cuckoo.
So stunned was I
by the news of the day's events,
combined with the power of the narrative
found in "The Pet Goat"
that I just sat there
in silence
for over seven minutes.
(seconds ticking)
♪ The way you shake it ♪
♪ I can't believe it ♪
♪ I ain't never seen an ass like that ♪
♪ The way you move it ♪
♪ You make my peepee go ♪
♪ Da-doing-doing-doing ♪
♪ I don't believe it ♪
♪ It's almost too good to be true ♪
♪ I ain't never seen an ass like that ♪
♪ The way you move it ♪
♪ You make my peepee go ♪
♪ Da-doing-doing-doing ♪
♪ The way she moves, she's like a belly dancer ♪
♪ Shaking that ass to the new Nelly jams ♪
♪ I think someone's at the door, but I don't think I'ma answer ♪
♪ Police saying, "Freeze!" ♪ ♪ Oh! ♪
♪ Da-doing-doing-doing ♪
♪ What do you mean "freeze"? Please, I'm a human being I have needs ♪
♪ I'm not done, not till I've finished peeing ♪
♪ I am not resisting arrest, I am agreeing, Mr. Officer ♪
♪ I'm already on my knees, I can't get on the ground ♪ (music fades)
This is by far one of my favorite pieces of clothing.
I'll never forget the look on Tony Blair's face
when I met him for the first time at Camp David.
I walked into the room
wearing this kickass
custom made leather bomber's jacket.
He was wearing some dumb sweater.
I just looked at him. I said, "How do you like me now?"
He said, "I beg your pardon?"
You know, all Britishy and shit.
We just stood there looking at each other.
In silence.
For a long time, I might add.
I can remember thinking,
"I'm not talking first.
"He's gonna have to talk first.
"This is my house.
This is my Camp David."
Finally, he said, "Well, Mr. President,
it is an honor to be your guest,"
and I just yelled, "I win."
I remember the first time I sat down with Tony Blair
to discuss what we had in common
and it was awkward at first.
Then I thought I'd break the ice by saying,
"At least we both speak English."
And...
and Tony laughed.
But I laughed much harder.
That was the turning point.
That was the ice breaker where I thought,
"Hey, I can trust this turkey.
He's my amigo."
Believe me, I quickly found out I would need his counsel.
As you all know, the events of 9/11
would throw the nation into a tizzy.
As I sat alone with my thoughts
in my private chambers,
much like the Batman,
I can remember thinking
that the nation needed a leader
who could make important decisions and make them quickly.
It was then that I became...
The Decider.
(thunder booms)
I pictured myself as a super advanced robot
named Decision-Maker 2230k.
Yes, for one-half of an entire Cabinet meeting,
I did speak with a robot voice.
(robotic voice) Good afternoon.
I am Decision Maker 2230k.
Do not fear me.
(mimics beeping)
I make decisions with great alacrity.
Also, I have lasers that shoot out of my eyeballs.
My stomach is a microwave oven.
Right now, I'm cooking up some Jeno's Pizza Rolls.
Oh my God, they smell delicious.
(normal voice) Then everything went dark.
I awoke on the floor of the Cabinet Room
with an ice pack taped to my head.
Turns out Cheney had shot me with a tranquilizer gun.
I would be unconscious for three-and-a-half hours,
but when I came to,
I was informed that we had a very productive meeting.
We had gleaned from exhaustive intelligence,
massive man hours on the ground and in the skies above
that Al-Qaeda was the source of these 9/11 attacks.
We also gained knowledge
from the previous administration's
counter-terrorism expert,
Richard Clarke,
who had told us point-blank
a month before it happened
that it would probably happen,
and that Al-Qaeda would do it. So that was helpful too.
Then we started looking for evidence
linking Al-Qaeda to Iraq,
and we kept looking
and looking,
and looking,
and looking.
The CIA looked back 10 years in their records and found nothing.
Cheney thought he'd help out
by setting up his own intelligence agency
in a broom closet at the Pentagon.
Then bingo, we found it.
Evidence from one witness
no one had ever heard of before
without any other backup
that Iraq was trying to get yellow-cake uranium
through the country of-- and I always have trouble with this pronunciation--
Ni-- "Ni-gard."
"Ni-jer."
"Ni-jere." "Ni-jere."
Whoo!
I tell you right now, you mispronounce that one,
you find yourself in a world of trouble.
You know what I mean? Yeah.
You do not want to be that guy, trust me.
So...
I mean, you don't. I'm not just saying that.
Yeah.
I'm giving you advice right now.
So when I first heard "yellow cake,"
I was like, "Yum! Whose birthday is it?"
Then everybody switched to their serious voices
and started yelling, "Yellow-cake uranium, damn it!
"Please listen!
"For once, just listen.
"That's all you have to do, is sit there and listen!
"We do all the work!
"You don't have to do anything but sit there and listen.
That's all you have to do."
Which, by that point, I'd stopped listening again.
'Cause I had a mean game of Brick Breaker going on my Treo.
So...
just to refresh...
just to refresh...
yellow-cake uranium goes through "Nigger"
to Iraq, and here's the best part--
here's the best part.
Hold on, here's the best part.
Here's how we get the story out to the American public.
A quote-unquote anonymous White House source,
basically us,
Cheney, Rummy, Condi, whoever.
We speak to all the major media outlets,
like "The New York Suck-My-Dick Times."
Then Judy Miller and J-bomb would write up the story
and the same people who planted the story
Cheney, Rummy, Condi, etcetera,
would go on all the news shows like "Meet the Press,"
"This Week in Washington,"
"The View,"
and hold up the story that they planted
and say, "Wow, look what 'The Times' says."
Pretty good plan, huh?
Yeah.
Slowly, our case was made.
Except there was one last hitch.
Most of the world...
thought we were crazy.
Especially France.
You know what? Who gives a shit about France?
Right?
France is a bunch of pussies and dick-grabbers.
What's so great about France?
How many people have ever even been to France?
(loud cheering)
See? No one.
If you recall, we played some real diplomatic hardball
with the French. This is what we did.
In the cafeteria at Congress...
we renamed French Fries
"Freedom Fries."
Oh, burn!
(imitates machine gun fire)
(imitates explosion)
When I heard that, I thought it was one of the coolest things I'd ever heard.
I tried to get French kissing renamed
to We-Saved-Your-Asses- in-World-War-II kissing.
It didn't catch on.
You know what's funny?
Turns out none of it mattered.
Despite concerns of our NATO allies,
despite anti-war protests
in every major city in America
including one million people here in New York,
on March 20th, 2003,
Operation Iraqi Freedom was launched.
By April 9th,
it was done.
People tore down a massive statue of Saddam Hussein
ending his 24-year rule of that country.
People were dancing in the streets.
We were dancing in the Oval Office.
I was King Shit of Turd Mountain.
♪ It's my life ♪
♪ It's now or never ♪
♪ I ain't gonna live forever ♪
(electronic music playing)
♪ Don't be fronting with the bass phenomenon ♪
♪ Don't be fronting with the bass phenomenon ♪
♪ Don't be fronting with the bass phenomenon ♪
♪ Bass phenomenon, bass phenomenon ♪
(scatting)
♪ Don't be fronting with the bass phenomenon ♪
♪ Bass phenomenon ♪
♪ Bass phenomenon ♪
♪ Bass phenomenon ♪
♪ Bass phenomenon, bass phenomenon, bass phenomenon ♪
♪ Don't be fronting with the bass phenomenon ♪
♪ Don't be fronting with the bass phenomenon ♪
♪ Don't be fronting with the bass phenomenon ♪
♪ Bass phenomenon, bass phenomenon ♪
♪ Don't be fronting with the bass phenom-- ♪
(music stops)
(jet engines screaming)
Remember this outfit?
Remember this moment?
Landing on a carrier in a jet fighter plane?
"Highway to the Danger Zone"
playing in my helmet.
Setting foot on the deck of the USS Abraham Lincoln
to announce that major combat operations in Iraq
were over.
It truly was...
"mission accomplished."
Even though...
Ow.
Even though...
98.3% of all casualties
including civilians
have occurred after that speech was made.
Those in the media criticized it
as a theatrical and expensive stunt.
We tried to explain how I had to fly on a jet
'cause the carrier was too far away for a helicopter to fly.
Then somebody pointed out that the carrier
was only 30 miles off the coast of San Diego.
We said, "Oh, that's much closer than we thought."
So that day
and this banner
became a symbol to a lot of people
that we were out of touch with the war
and what was going on in Iraq...
and I respectfully disagree.
I mean, sure some things didn't go as planned,
like the absence of a plan for anything
once we were inside the country.
Oops.
We also didn't know that the guy we'd place in power over there,
"Achmed" Chalibi,
would turn out to be a total douchebag.
Maybe Paul Bremer's disbanding the army
and all law enforcement was a bad idea.
Maybe only having 162,000 troops
when our generals said we needed 400,000 was a bad idea.
I do know this.
Removing Saddam Hussein from power
was the right decision early in my presidency,
it is the right decision now,
and it will be the right decision ever.
(bell dings)
We were also able to unite the world
in an outstanding coalition of the willing.
Great nations with rich military traditions
like Poland...
Honduras...
El Salvador...
Denmark...
and "Azar Bazhan."
Brave, brave countries
like Palau,
Costa Rica,
and the Solomon Islands,
who joined the coalition without any regard
for the fact that they don't even have an army.
That alone put a lump in my throat.
Then of course, there was Morocco
who pledged to send 2,000 trained monkeys
to detonate land mines
and perform at children's parties.
Then there seemed to be questions whether or not Morocco had the monkeys,
and I said, "Regardless of whether they have them or not,
that sounds cool as shit and I want that."
A special unit
of 2,000 trained monkeys
that we could send anywhere in the world
to fight evil
and make children laugh?
Duh!
Despite vigorous protests from my Cabinet,
I put into motion Operation Primate Speargun.
For one year,
a special unit of 2,000 wild monkeys
trained side by side with the 82nd Airborne
down at Fort Bragg
in total secrecy.
In order to ensure a maximum covert operation,
most of the training was done at night.
I was heavily invested in the unit.
I'd often fly down to participate
in field exercises.
One of the things I noticed during the exercises
was that many of the monkeys would just simply run off into the woods...
randomly shooting their spearguns
at each other or inanimate objects.
And...
So I asked my field commanders,
I said, "How often had this been happening?"
They said that this type of thing
had happened every single time.
So then I asked a tough question.
"Why do you think it's happening?"
The major said that his guess
was because they were wild monkeys...
and that they as soldiers
didn't have the proper training
to work with them.
So I looked at him right in the eye and said,
"But we're gonna get there, right?"
He said, "I doubt it, sir."
I said, "Well, hold on, let me ask you this...
Are they at least entertaining the children?"
He said he'd have no idea of knowing,
but that his guess would be no...
considering it was a top-secret operation
and no one knew the monkeys were there.
Especially the children.
At the end of exercises, all but 40 monkeys
had run off into the North Carolina woods.
Speargun attacks along the I-95 corridor
have increased 1,000%
in that time.
So...
let me just tell you this...
if you're planning a car trip down to Disney World,
don't stop at the rest stops, okay?
'Cause there's a 50/50 chance
a malnourished monkey's
gonna pop up out of a toilet
and shoot you in the face with a spear gun.
You know what? I could give a shit.
It's the Tiger Woods guy's problem now.
True story.
I still think under the right circumstances,
it would've worked.
I will...
I will always think of myself
as a wartime president.
And yes, I am aware
of the criticisms
that have been thrown my way
for my decision to go into Iraq.
It will...
It will ultimately define my presidency.
I've been asked,
knowing what we know now,
would we have...
would we have made the same decisions,
the same...
the same choices?
Sure, we would've adjusted a few things.
But in the choice between freedom
and tyranny,
we must always choose freedom.
Has the war weighed heavily on me?
Sure it has.
I think about it every day.
Do I cry about it?
Yeah, without a doubt.
I cry a lot.
I feel for the families
who've lost loved ones.
I cry for the parents
who've lost a son or daughter.
I cry for the kids who'll never get to know their mom or dad.
I also feel
for the hundreds of thousands of Iraqi civilians
who've lost their lives.
A lot of this crying is done alone.
'Cause I'm the one who made the call
and I must live with that.
So at this moment in time,
I'd like to honor all those who've died
as a result of this war
with a moment of silence.
(phone ringing)
(phone continues ringing)
Hello?
Huh?
No, we're not taking reservations.
No, I don't know where "Annie Get Your Gun's" playing.
What?
Yeah, I love Tom Wopat too.
Oh my god, that scared the shit out of me.
For a tenth of a second, I thought that was God calling.
Or worse, my dad.
I swear to god, I think I had a heart attack in my butthole.
Is that medically possible?
Does anyone know?
Is there a doctor in the house?
Jerry, I think that spleef you gave me was laced.
(phone ringing) Ow, yeah, it's in my upper butthole.
Cort Theater. How can I help you?
Hey, Brownie!
It's former head of FEMA Mike Brownie. Wanna say anything?
(audience boos)
They love you here, man. What's up?
How're you doing, Brownie?
How's your wife Cathy? She still got big tits?
I'm just kidding, Brownie. Relax, man.
Hey, do you remember when you were Judges and Stewards Commissioner
of the International Arabian Horse Association?
Yeah, why'd we ever think that'd be proper training
for you to head up FEMA?
I know, it literally makes no sense.
When I think back to your appointment,
it shows a blatant disregard
for the agency and its function.
Then wouldn't you know it, we get hit with the greatest
natural disaster in US history.
You still have nightmares about it?
I'll bet you do.
Oh, Brownie.
Hey, do you remember when I finally got on the ground
and it wasn't even New Orleans?
That's right. It was Mobile, Alabama.
I said, "Brownie, you're doing a heck of a job"?
It's so funny 'cause you were not doing a heck of a job.
That's right, you were doing the opposite of a heck of a job.
Oh, Brownie.
Do you remember on national television
when Kanye West said that I hated black people?
I know, I don't hate black people.
I never even think about them.
Not in my day to day.
By the way, how's New Orleans doing?
Uh-huh?
A lot of it still hasn't been rebuilt?
It's funny. You would've thought that after my initial mess-up
that I would've dedicated more of my second term
to just checking in on New Orleans.
I know, but I didn't.
You hit the nail on the head, Brownie.
Americans do have a short attention span.
No, it's great 'cause you can just half-ass shit and it doesn't matter.
Oh, Brownie.
I could talk to you all night long.
Have you been watching "Dancing With the Stars"?
Yeah. No, my money's on Lil Kim.
Do you know how to say it in Spanish?
(speaks Spanish)
Yeah.
Lil Kim in Spanish? No, I don't know.
Probably "Kimalito," maybe. I don't know.
Yeah.
No, go ahead. Yeah, Google it. I can wait.
You got to reboot your computer? Okay, man.
Oh, "0 searches found"?
Well, I guess that'll be a mystery for the ages.
Yeah. Really?
And you're doing-- yeah? Uh-huh.
Okay.
Oh, so you're just growing a mustache?
Well, it sounded a lot more complicated
the way you were describing it. Yeah.
Don't yell at me. No, you called me.
Oh, you got to run? All right, man.
Okay, take it easy.
Hey, Brownie? Good luck with your bed sweats and your night terrors.
All right, buddy. Take care.
You people probably won't even remember that phone call.
(dialtone hums)
Operator: Please hang up now.
This is a recording.
(dance music playing)
(music fading)
Hey, hey! What the fuck's going on, man?
What are you doing, Jerry?
I leave for like four seconds, you turn the whole place into "Electric Boogaloo"?
You will talk to me.
I'm gonna wear you down
like an irritating gnat.
I'll give you $20,000 if you bones it out with me right now.
Smart man. I was not gonna give him the $20,000.
You know, one of my great qualities as president,
and heck, as a human being
is my ability to give out clever nicknames
to all those that I come in contact with.
So...
so at this moment in time, we're gonna bring the house lights up.
I want you to raise your hand,
tell me your name and you're occupation,
I'll give you a cool nickname.
Yeah, that guy on the balcony right there.
The glasses.
Rick? You're a journalist?
Uh, I'm gonna call you...
who's the guy from "The Washington Post"
that did the book on me?
Are you really a journalist?
Most of the time.
Most of the time? I'm gonna call you The Liar.
This lady right here. Yeah. Right there.
Yeah. Jenay?
You're a student? Are you in college?
I'm gonna call you Good Luck With the Job Market.
Yeah, this girl right here.
Your name is Cognac? Anya.
Oh, Anya. Phew.
I was about to say that's one of the coolest names of all time.
"This is Cognac. What's up?"
Anya. What do you do?
I'm a tennis coach. You're a tennis coach?
I'm gonna call you Martina Navratilova.
Yeah, this guy right here.
Thomas Jones, orthopedic surgeon.
Thomas Jones. "Orthapedis" surgeon.
Orthopedic surgeon?
Uh, I'm gonna call you The Scorpion.
Yeah, this guy right here.
Alexander?
You own an iced tea company?
I'm gonna call you Nestea Plunge.
Yeah, right here.
Bruce, you look like a member of the Doobie Brothers.
You remember the Doobie Brothers?
I'm gonna call you China Grove.
Yeah, this guy right down here.
I'm a gastroenterologist.
You're a gastroenterologist?
I'm gonna call you The Fiber Man.
Yeah, this lady right here.
Savannah.
Savannah? And what do you do?
I'm a Shakespeare scholar.
You're a Shakespeare scholar?
I'm gonna call you Scholar of Unnecessary Subjects.
I'm not trying to be mean or anything,
but seriously.
How often do we hear Shakespeare in our lives?
It's all a bunch of gobbledy-gook. Yeah?
This distinguished-looking gentleman right here.
Jerry.
(Jerry mumbles)
You're a theater ticket broker?
I'm gonna call you The Ascot.
Yeah, this guy right in the front row.
I'm Jason. I'm a software engineer.
Software engineer?
I'll call you Nerd Alert.
That guy in the glasses right there.
Blake Pearson. I'm a writer, but not for "The New York Times."
You're a writer?
What do you write? Comic books or something?
So what do you write?
Screenplays. Screenplays?
I'm gonna call you Hurry Up and Wait.
Yeah, this lady right back here.
Woman: My name is Ola. Hola?
Hola to you, Hola.
Yeah, that guy right here in the cool hairdo.
You got a lot of mousse in your hair tonight, man.
Looks good.
Yeah, that's a good-looking beard too.
I'm gonna call you Jacques Cousteau.
Yeah, right here. This lady.
Lisa. Lisa?
I'm a real estate investor.
I'm gonna call you Shit Outta Luck, Lisa.
I think that went really well.
That went really well, yeah.
Yeah, yeah.
And Lisa,
footnote to that-- it's not my fault. Okay?
I think we came up with some really cool nicknames, yeah...
that'll...
that'll hopefully last a lifetime.
Nerd Alert.
"Hey, where's Nerd Alert?
I'm supposed to pick him up at 10:00."
"He's doing his software stuff."
It's like magic.
I wish being president was that easy.
Yeah.
Eight years.
("America the Beautiful" playing off-key)
Eight whole years.
Went by in the blink of an eye.
Did we find Osama bin Laden?
No, we dropped the ball on that one. I agree.
But did we get steroids out of baseball?
You bet we did.
Sort of.
Did we make sure marriage is a union
between a man and a woman?
In most places, yes,
even though I'd be lying to you if I told you
I didn't enjoy my AWOL time in Vermont with Dave Rothschild.
Were we able to ease trade restrictions with China
to get their toxic lead-based toys
and poisonous breast formula?
Check mark.
We also tripled the deficit,
sanctioned torture,
and illegally wiretapped Americans
months before 9/11.
But on the down side,
we did oversee the collapse of the entire world economy, so...
"masser menos".
Right, Hola?
So basically it comes down to this...
am I the worst president of all-time?
(audience cheering) Hold on, hold on, hold on.
I didn't realize tonight was amateur historian night.
Some say that it was James Buchanan,
who in 1860, when faced with secession,
did nothing.
Or was it Abraham Lincoln's successor,
Andrew Johnson,
who openly sided with former Confederates
to undermine reconstruction efforts?
Warren G. Harding.
His administration was openly corrupt.
What about Millard Fillmore?
His name was Millard Fillmore.
How did he grow up past age six, you know?
Cognac would be a better name for him.
What about Herbert Hoover? That guy was a pretty good lameass.
Then there's Richard Nixon. He bombed Cambodia
without telling anybody,
then escalated the Vietnam War.
And then there's me.
I was able to get Congress
to do just about anything I wanted them to do,
which technically, isn't that the mark
of an effective president?
The bottom line is
can you go to bed at night
knowing the decisions that you have made?
And I know that I can.
Partly because I'm a really good sleeper.
I just like to sleep.
When I look in the mirror, I like what I see.
So I feel pretty good.
I feel pretty good.
One last thing, since I know I'm not gonna hear any thanks,
I just wanna say one last thing,
you're welcome, America.
(country ballad playing)
♪ I followed you to Texas ♪
♪ I followed you to Utah ♪
♪ I went with you to Alabama ♪
♪ Things looked good in Birmingham ♪
♪ I know you're tired of following ♪
♪ My elusive dreams and schemes ♪
♪ For they're only fleeting things ♪
♪ My elusive dreams ♪
(music fades)
(rock music playing)
♪ So long, farewell Auf Wiedersehen, adieu ♪
♪ Adieu, adieu To you and you and you ♪
♪ So long, farewell Au revoir, Auf Weidersehen ♪ (music fades)
Yeah, this guy right here. Yeah.
Chris, teacher. What do you teach, Chris?
High school special ed.
Special ed?
That's a good subject, man.
Yeah.
I'm gonna call you...
You know, I don't really have a nickname for you,
but I remember some of those classes.
Yeah, this guy right here.
I sell decorative hardware and bath accessories.
Decorative hardware and bath accessories.
I'm gonna call you
Scrub-a-Dub-Dub Three Men in a Tub.
Yeah, what's your name?
Andy? And you're in seventh grade?
I'm gonna call you Pubes.
Dave Rothschild?
Get up here, man.
Nice to see you, man. You look good.
You look great.
You look great.
Where have you been?
You stopped returning my calls
22 years ago, man.
All right, buddy.
(gunshots)
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