Private Parts

Private Parts quotes

33 total quotes (ID: 961)

Howard Stern
Kenny 'Pig Vomit' Rushton
Other


My name is Howard Stern, and welcome to the new morning show. And we have a new feature for you. This is, uh, something special. We have a traffic copter now here at WWWW. Let's go up to Mama Look-a boo boo day in the traffic copter. Mama, you there? Hello? Mama? Uh. [Helicopter sound effect] Hello? [In Mama's voice] Yes, hello. This is Mama Look-a boo boo day, the only black traffic reporter in the Detroit area, I'm proud to say. [in his normal voice] Pleasure to make your acquaintance this morning, Mama. Tell me, uh, what's going on in the traffic? [in Mama's voice] First, a political statement, if I may. Kill, Kill, Kill... The White Man, by Eugene Mama Look-a boo boo day. Eugene is my pen name 'cause I wrote this while I was in the pen. OK, here we go. Kill, kill, kill the white man. Kill him until he is dead. Kill the white man. Thank you.


Caller: I was calling because I have a really big problem.
Howard: What's your problem?
Caller: Well, every morning I lie in bed, and the only thing I can do is think of you.
Howard: Oh, really? Well, let's see if we can't help you with your problem. What do you look like?
Caller: Well, I've got blond hair, and I've got blue eyes, and my measurements are about 38-24-34. Some people tell me I look a lot like Farrah Fawcett.
Howard: I can help you. Robin, I can help this girl.
Robin: You know, we have the most beautiful audience.
Howard: We certainly do. We're very fortunate that way. You know what we're gonna do to solve your problem? I'm gonna have sex with you right now over the radio.
Robin: How are we gonna do that?
Howard: Very simple. I've thought this through, Robin. First of all, what kind of radio are you listening to us on? You have a transistor radio, or you have one of those big sound systems?
Caller: I have one of those big sound systems.
Howard: Good. OK. Could you turn the treble all the way down and put the bass all the way up?
Caller: OK. The treble's down, and the bass is up.
Howard: Take your speaker...You got a big speaker?
Caller: Yes, I do.
Howard: Lay it flat on the floor. And I want you to sort of straddle the speaker.
Robin: Howard!
Caller: Do what?
Robin: A woman cannot be aroused in that way.
Howard: No. This is really wrong, Robin. You're absolutely wrong. In fact, my father was a radio engineer, and he proved this theory years ago. You've got to believe. Now, what I need you to do is put your private area over the woofer.
Caller: I can't believe you're really making me to do this.
Howard: Come on, do it. Right up against it so you can feel me.
Caller: I'm on.
Robin: Oh, I have to ask her a question. What kind of a woman are you to have sex this way on the radio?
Howard: Don't answer that question. Bad question. You're gonna ruin this woman's mood. She might start second-guessing. Are you ready to have sex?
Caller: [Giggling] Oh, my God.
Howard: Hummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
Caller: Ooh!
Howard: Hummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
Caller: Oohh! Ooh. It kinda tingles.
Howard: See? It tingles. She likes it.
Robin: Yeah, sure.
Howard: Hummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
Caller: Ohh! Oh...
Robin: She's full of it.
Caller: Aahh! Ohh! Oh, God! Oh!
Howard: Listen to her. She's going wild.
Robin: You got me moaning.
Howard: Hummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
Caller: Ohhhhhhhh! Oh, my goodness. Ohhh!
Howard: [laughs] This is the best sex I ever had.

Kenny: You goddamn mother****ers. You ****ing waltz in here, and you think you know everything, don't you? Well, I ****ing worked my ****ing ass off to get to New York City, and you sure as **** are not gonna ****ing blow it for me!
Howard: I was just doing character...
Kenny: Barry, Jerry, clarify the situation for him, please.
Barry: Page 108, paragraph 3: "No jokes dealing with flatulence, excretion, urination, ejaculation, or other bodily functions."
Jerry: Also, no use of the so-called seven dirty words. These are ****, mother****er, ****, shit, ****, ****, and pussy.
Kenny: Now, from now on, all your little bits are gonna be under 2 minutes in duration, and all scripts...and I do mean all scripts...require my personal approval. Welcome to NBC, Howard.

Researcher: The average radio listener listens for eighteen minutes a day. The average Howard Stern fan listens for - are you ready for this? - an hour and twenty minutes.
Kenny: How could this be?
Researcher: Answer most commonly given: "I want to see what he'll say next."
Kenny: : All right, fine. But what about the people who hate Stern?
Researcher: Good point. The average Stern hater listens for two and a half hours a day.
Kenny: : But... if they hate him, why do they listen?
Researcher: Most common answer: "I want to see what he'll say next."

[while playing country music] Howdy, cowpokes. Uh, I know I shouldn't be interrupting in the middle of a song, but I got to tell you something. I know a lot of you out there really love this music, but I just don't get it. Explain it to me. And maybe it's 'cause I went to college, and I never drove a truck and had sex with my daddy's sister, but...I guess what I'm trying to say is, I...I don't think I'm the man for this job. So this is your old pal Hopalong Howie saying I quit. I... I think I quit.

It was then that I made a startling discovery...Lesbians equal ratings.

I am the hero of the lesbian community, am I not, Robin?

I am Officer Howie, and there's a new law in town. We're taking it over.

[to Alison] It's unbelievable. I got a job offer today from WNBC in New York. Afternoon drive, the most powerful radio station in their chain, $150,000 a year. And they said if I do really well, they're gonna syndicate my program all over the country. This is it. This is everything I want. It's like...It's the dream, the Big Apple.

I was in the program director's office. His name is Pig Vomit. Yes, because he looks like a pig, and he makes you want to vomit. He's Pig Vomit.

I want to pray to God right now. Jesus Christ, who I love so much, more than anything in the whole world, I am begging you, please...send a hit man to the United States of America to kill Pig Vomit finally. Thank you. I love you, God. I'll do whatever you say if you just make that come true.

You know, I could get this girl. I know I could get her. And this is the hell that's my life. I mean, think about it. What would it be like to have sex with her? It would be amazing. But I'm not going to act on it. You know why? Because I'd be a schmuck. No, because I love Alison. She stuck with me through the whole thing, you know? You gotta respect that. I think you have to respect that. You have to respect that.

So occasionally I make a fool of myself in public, and the FCC wants me off the air, and every fundamentalist group in this country hates my guts, and, yeah, most of the things I do are misunderstood. Hey, after all, being misunderstood is the fate of all true geniuses, is it not? But my life isn't bad at all. I'm still on the air, I've got my kids, and I've got Alison. Alison... She's the best friend I could ever have. And who knows? With a little time, the right energy...I think I could talk her into some hot lesbo action.

This little puppy's finally gonna get housebroken.

You are the Mother-****ing Antichrist!