Billy Connolly on Parliament and Pit Bulls

Maggie Thatcher. Yeah. She was on telly... Well, Carol stormed out, I hear, y'know. I was broken hearted. It was in the Sun, it must be true. I think she ran up to fuck with Rupert Murdock, and told him all about it. No. Only wish her fucking brother had run a home, but... Maggie was on the telly last night, speaking from Chicago. All the Torys are shitting themselves "You're gonna drop us in it." Shitting themselves "Oh God, she coming back, oh no, she'll spank us." And she said, she's against the single European currency, because she doesn't want an unelected body farting about with the finances of this country. So I can only imagine, she's going to disband the House of Lords.

No, but parliament kills me. I mean... the thing that's been getting me, since I came back - I came back a month ago from America - was this raging thing about Pit Bulls. I mean, it's the same in America, since [???] dogs are biting [???] forget them [???] It's the ugliest looking dog in the world. Them pit bulls are bought by those spectacular tattooed fuckwits, you know. It's a shark on a leash, isn't it, this pointy head, the eyes at the corners, a row of teeth and an arsehole. And Parliament, they were going to kill them all. "Let's shoot the fuckers." "No, let's cut the balls off." "Let's shoot them, and cut the balls off." "No, let's cut the balls off first, then shoot the fuckers." "Shooting's too good for them, let's give them a hefty kick in the balls." And you know what, they sat up till four o'clock in the morning, and they all get pissed and had a sing-song. You see, that's Paliament. You see, they lead you believe that they make decisions in there, and the laws. No they don't. It's a big shockabsorber, Parliament. Good ideas go in and they fucking bash them about, and they fuck them up and doing things... take them to committee, and out of committee and then another wee committee and a subcommittee. And it comes out a shadow of its former self, you know, of use to no bugger. The dogs, will we shoot them, or will we cut their balls off? Decision: We'll make people register them at the post office. Now, that's got the tattooed fuckwits shaking in their shoes. "Oh no, the post office! What're we gonna do? Ooohh. Oh, I don't even know where my savings book is. Oohhh. "