I-- I try to suggestwherever I go...
that people tryto improve their manners.
It's something I tryand do every day.
As human beings, we,by our animal natures,we have terrible manners.
You know? Our deep down,underneath our socializing.
Our bodies are telling us likesee that cheerleader?
You should put a babyin her mouth.
But we have to quell thesedesires and get alongwith one and other...
which I think is beautiful.
I encourage people to sayplease and thank you and alsocarry a handkerchief.
Keep a handkerchiefin your pocket.
That was my father's rule.
It looked bitchin'on my neck in Cub Scouts.
And it saved my bacon in school.
'Cause when I'd get whooped in afight, I'd never soil the floor.
I'd wrap it around my knifehandle tight, and even thefucking score.
Hankies can make you seempolite or wipe ejaculatefrom your chin.
Or when you break and enter,erase the prints from whereyou've been.
For gravy or mud or evenmenstrual blood...
it can protect your eyesfrom a spunky flood.
You just gotta have your hanky.
For wiping your tears when youwish you could still get hardafter all of that wine.
And when you run outof toilet tissue, a hankywill do just fine.
For a sniffle or a sneeze,it will shoo away bees.
When you have to suck a dick,it's a cushion for your knees.
When your lover has beenpleased, it'll wipe awaythe cheese.
And the separationfrom your venereal disease.
Oh, you just gottahave your hanky.
Dad, I always carry my hanky.