Now, we're Americans. Technically, who is from this country? Only the Indians, who we graciously let dwell on their native casinos.
Honesty and unpopular opinions are the toughest sell in a country with an irony-deficiency.
If you want to live in 'white world,' if you want to experience the stultifying boredom and penetrating ennui that homogeneity can bring, you can go to Canada any day of the year. It's an entire country named Doug.
I like to go to England, and I'll tell you why. I like to go to a country where I am considered the best-looking person. It's as simple as that. Hollywood, kind of a crushing ego blow - 'Hey Buddy Holly, you are so old, have you not perished in a plane crash?' But not in England, good God, not there. In England, God bless that dinky island, there it's, 'Good God, look at him. He has all his teeth and his ears are in proportion to his head.' I'm Brad bloody Pitt on that island.
I have to hear this all the time in England: Well, all Americans are fat and stupid, mm-hm-hm-hm-hm. Really? Well, thanks for sending over the best and brightest to start the party. Maybe we can send a few freaky, Texas, militia, hate-group, gun-toting weirdoes back to your country.
I'm always looking for that place, you know, where there's no rednecks, that place where people get along, and I never find it. I went to Australia, right, and I thought Australia was gonna be a groovy, surfnoid, smoke-a-joint wombat, you know? 'G'day mate!' 'No worries!' And it's like Arkansas with a beach. It's a whole country with a 'No Fat Chicks' sticker on it.
