Quotes & Jokes by John Oliver
Everyone has seen their dad's penis. Yes, you have. Don't do this to me, New York. Yes, you have. Yes, you have. You have seen your dad's penis. Oh, right. Raise your hands if you've seen your dad's penis. You are fucking lying to me! How am I, as a British person, the least repressed human being in this room?!
Every time I come back to New York, I feel like Rutger Hauer at the end of Blade Runner: 'I've seen things you people wouldn't believe.' I have been to the upper peninsula of Michigan. That is remote in the extreme. It's like Lord of the Flies up there, with significantly more beards.
This report found out that more British people died, proportionally, than American people on that boat because they discovered that, at that point in history, British people were more polite while Americans were, and I quote, more assertive. But don't feel guilty when you imagine your ancestors elbowing mine out of the way.
It's ok that I'm swearing. One, because, you know, I'm lucky enough to live in a country where I'm allowed to do that, and two, and much more importantly, I'm British, and it just sounds adorable coming out of my mouth. You know it's true. You just can't be offended in the same way. I'll give you an example: fuck knuckle. That's borderline poetry!
I'm really white. I'm English white, that's basically turbo white. My skin is borderline translucent. If I'm standing, and the sun is behind me, I'm a functioning x-ray.
We’re constantly told by campaign groups such as Greenpeace that we must invest more in alternative energies like wind farms. But I’m here to tell you that’s actually a terrible idea. The reason being, it turns out wind has actually been horrifically overfarmed over the last 20 years. And if we keep farming it at this rate, by 2040 there will be no wind whatsoever. And kites will just lie like corpses in parks.
I see that no one, yet, is filming this on their cell phones. I appreciate that because that has become the new scourge of stand-up: people sitting there saying, 'I want to enjoy this, but now is not good for me. Later would be better -- later and smaller.'
Primarily I’ve gathered you here this evening to tell you this: that it’s not easy being British, as Kermit so nearly sang. The reason being, it is impossible for me as a British citizen to go into any museum in any nation on the planet Earth without, within five minutes, starting to feel guilty. You have no idea what that feels like. You will. Oh, You will.
I took a tip from your history books, and, the day after election day, I got a truckload of Dr. Pepper and just drove it straight into Boston Harbor. See how you like your favorite beverage being drowned.
Frankly, I could not fucking believe I was not allowed to vote. Three and a half years I've lived here! I work hard -- relatively speaking for someone who does this for a living. I pay my taxes. I try to fit in. I've learnt your rudimentary language. I don't know what more you could reasonably expect me to do. And that's when it hit me. I know why I'm so angry. I know what this is -- taxation without representation. Now I get it. Now I see why you got so pissy about it all those years ago. It is annoying. You were right. It is annoying and consider that as close to an apology as you are ever going to get.
It's pure Americana. It couldn't be any more folksy or wholesome unless Huckleberry Finn suddenly walked in carrying a freshly baked apple pie and started dropping the n-word.
You're probably aware that Britain stopped evolving gastronomically around the year 1242.
One paper managed to add a misprint to this misinformation when they ran with the headline, 'You Can Kill Buglers.' Let me tell you, that little typo cost the lives of 17 of our finest valveless brass enthusiasts.
For a British person to enter British Heaven, you basically have to die completely unnoticed without causing too much of a kerfuffle.