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it wonder where I got it. I’ll definitely have the coolest T-shirt.”
    You know how sometimes, at a busy cocktail party, when you’re telling a group of people a story, a few of them may become distracted, and you lose their attention? So you concentrate a little harder on the ones who are still listening? You know that feeling? And then, because it’s a lively party, a few more of them drift away? And as your audience slowly peels off one by one, after a while you wind up addressing any person you can find who’s willing look at you. Even the busboy. And then you realize the busboy doesn’t understand English. Isn’t that awful?
    Sometimes, a person some distance away from you will say something you can’t quite understand, so you ask them to repeat it, and you still can’t make it out. You try two or three more times without any luck, and by then you’re getting embarrassed, so you pretend to understand, and just say, “Yeah!” so you can be done with it. Later, it turns out they said, “We’re coming over tonight to remove your wife’s ovaries. Will that be all right?”
    EORGE C A R L I N
MTRKAU
    One recent morning there was something I couldn’t remember. \ rt of knew what it was related to, but I couldn’t quite bring it i0 ind. It seemed like the letter m was involved. Then, suddenly, it car^ me. That was in the morning. Then, later that afternoon, evun ough I was able to recall my experience that morning of not beiw >le to remember something, I could no longer remember what t’fle ing was, what it was related to, or what letter of the alphabet ha(j >en involved. But what’s strange to me is that that morning, the fiySf me I couldn’t remember it, the thing did eventually come back to nie-iter that afternoon, however, in spite of my earlier success, I dreT/y a )mplete blank. I still don’t know what it was, and the nice thing js lat a month from now I will have no memory of the incident )ever. Unless, of course, something reminds me of it.
    Hi! How are ya? You got your stuff with you? I’ll bet you do. Guys have stuff in their pockets; women have stuff jn their purses. Of course, some women have pockets, and some guys have purses. That’s okay. There’s all different ways; of carryin’ your stuff.
    Then there’s all the stuff you have in your car. You ;got ^ stuff in the trunk. Lotta different stuff: spare tire, jack, to    And you’ve got other stuff in your car. In the glove b,0X-K Stuff you might need in a hurry: flashlight, map, sunglasises>
    brain droppings
automatic weapon. You know. Just in case you wind up barefoot on the highway some night.
    So stuff is important. You gotta take care of your stuff. You gotta have a place for your stuff. Everybody’s gotta have a place for their stuff. That’s what life is all about, tryin’ to find a place for your stuff! That’s all your house is: a place to keep your stuff. If you didn’t have so much stuff, you wouldn’t need a house. You could just walk around all the time.
    A house is just a pile of stuff with a cover on it. You can see that when you’re taking off in an airplane. You look down and see all the little piles of stuff. Everybody’s got his own little pile of stuff. And they lock it up! That’s right! When you leave your house, you gotta lock it up. Wouldn’t want somebody to come by and take some of your stuff. ‘Cause they always take the good stuff! They don’t bother with that crap you’re saving. Ain’t nobody interested in your fourth-grade arithmetic papers. National Geographies, commemorative plates, your prize collection of Navajo underwear; they’re not interested. They just want the good stuff; the shiny stuff; the electronic stuff.
    So when you get right down to it, your house is nothing more than a place to keep your stuff. . . while you go out and get . . . more stuff. ‘Cause that’s what this country