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You take all these heavy-breathing fun-seekers, and you stick them in Wyoming. And you let them suck, fuck, and fondle. You let them blow, chew, sniff, lick, whip, gobble, and cornhole one other . . . until their testicles are whistlin’ “O Come All Ye Faithful.” Then you turn on the cameras, and you’ve got . . . the Semen Cha

Next group: Drug addicts and alcoholics. Not all of them, don’t get nervous. Just the ones who are making life difficult for at least one other person. And we’re not go

Each week, all of the illegal drugs confiscated in the United States—at least those drugs the police and DEA don’t keep for their own personal use—will be air-dropped into Colorado. That way, everyone can stay stoned, bombed, wasted, smashed, hammered, and fucked up around the clock on another new cable cha

Now, I’ve saved my favorite group for last. The Maniacs and Crazy People. The ones who live out where the buses don’t run. And I always take care to distinguish between maniacs and crazy people. A maniac will beat nine people to death with a steel dildo. A crazy person will beat nine people to death with a steel dildo, but he’ll be wearing a Bugs Bu

So you can’t put them all away. You have to keep some of them around just for the entertainment. Like the guy who tells you the King of Sweden is using his gallbladder as a radio transmitter to send anti-Semitic, lesbian meat loaf recipes to Marvin Hamlisch. A guy like that, you want to give him his own radio show.

No, the Maniac Farm will be used strictly for hopeless cases. Like a guy who gets a big tattoo on his chest of Mado

Now, for the Maniac Farm I think there’s no question we have to go with Utah. Easy to fence, and right next to Wyoming and Colorado. And Colorado is right next to? Right, Kansas! And that means that all four groups of our most amusing citizens are now in one place. Except for the big electric fences. And, folks, I think I have another one of my really good ideas for cable TV. Gates! Small sliding gates in the fences.

Think what you have here. Four groups: degenerates, predators, crackheads, and fruitcakes. All separated by 900 miles of fence. And here’s how you have some fun: every ten miles, you put a small, sliding gate in the fence. But—the gates are only ten inches wide, and they’re only opened once a month. For seven seconds.

And you know something? Fuck cable, this stuff belongs on pay-per-view. Because if those gates are only open seven seconds a month, you are go

And pretty soon you’ll have the American melting pot: child-killers, corpse-fuckers, drug zombies, and full-blown twelve-cylinder wackaloons. All wandering the landscape in search of truth. And fun. Just like now. Everyone will have guns, everyone will have drugs, and no one will be in charge. Just like now. But Social Security will be fully funded.

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I’ve never been impressed with people who tell me what they plan to do when they go to the bathroom. Doesn’t that bother you? People who a

“I’ll be right back, Trevor, I’m go

“Never mind, Pietro! Do what you have to and leave me out of it. And please don’t describe it when you get back.”