Blue Collar Comedy Tour: The Movie [2003]

It had to happen: A national tour of redneck comedians culminating in this frequently funny concert film, shot in Phoenix. Ron White's scotch-and-tobacco-fueled, fatalistic world view gets things off to a good start. ("That last engine had just enough power to get us to our crash site.") Larry the Cable Guy's creepy-silly persona helps deliver a set long on gross-out humor. ("I've been seein' a good-lookin' girl. But now I lost my binoculars.") Bill Engvall balances the tone with his family-man shtick. ("There needs to be a teenage driver's lane lined with tires and mattresses.") Main event champ Jeff Foxworthy offers fresh material about the act of ice-fishing as an out-of-body experience for fish, describes the bizarre sight of a leaf blower among items confiscated by airport security and, of course, renders his trademark re-re-re-definitions of what constitutes a redneck ("a glorious absence of sophistication"). Lots to enjoy here. --Tom Keogh

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Ron White:
I got thrown out of a bar in New York City. Now, when I say I got thrown out of a bar, I don't mean someone asked me to leave, and we walked to the door together, and I said, "Bye everyone, I gotta go!" Six bouncers picked me up and hurled me out of that bar like I was a Frisbee. Those big old New York bouncers that think about bouncing. They hang out with other bouncers, talking about bouncing. They go home at night and watch Road House and fondle themselves. For wearing a hat. I walk into a bar and the bouncer comes over to me, real pissy, and goes, "Take off the hat!" I'm like, "What's the deal?" He goes, "I'll tell you what the deal is. Gay people in this area wear hats; we're tryin' to keep them out of our club!" Oh really? The only way we can tell down in Texas is if they have their hair cut like, yours. And he got all pissed. Anyway, I took off the hat, and he walked away. About an hour later, I was drinking and I forgot. Ever forget? It happened to me. I put the hat on, and he comes back over. Now, I'm between six-one and six-six depending on which convenience store I'm leaving. I weigh two hundred and thirty pounds, and this guy comes over, poking me in the shoulder. He says, "You're outta here!" and I said, "I don't think so, Scooter!" And I was wrong. They hurled me out of that bar. And then they squared off with me in the parking lot, and I backed down from the fight, cause I don't know how many of them it would have taken to whip my ass, but I knew how many they were going to use. That's a handy little piece of information, right there. The police got called because we broke a chair on the way out, and I refused to pay for it. I refused to pay for it cause *we* broke it over *my* thigh. And at that point, I had the right to remain silent, but I didn't have the ability. The cop was like, "Mr. White, you are being charged with drunk in public-KA!" I was like, "Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey! I was drunk in a bar! They, threw me into public-KA! I don't want to be drunk in public! I wanna be drunk in a bar, which is perfectly legal! Arrest them!" He didn't arrest them, instead he had me do a field sobriety check, where you stand on one foot, raise the other foot six inches off the ground, and count to thirty. I made it to "woo!" Is that going to be close enough? It wasn't, so they called in for my arrest record. There's some good news! Satellites are linking up in outer space. Computer banks at NASA are kicking on. There's a telegraph in Fritch, Texas, going: beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep.

Ron White:
Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep. This part takes a while. Brrrrinnnng! Shorthand.

Ron White:
Beep. Now, I told you that story, to tell you this story. When I was seventeen, I was arrested for being drunk in... public.

Ron White:
If you knew Morse code, you'd know that already. And one DWI, which was a bogus charge, cause it turns out they were stopping every driver, traveling down that particular sidewalk. And that's profiling. And profiling is wrong! The arresting officer, who I had literally known, all my life. You know what I mean? This guy lived four doors down the street me, in a town of less than four hundred people. *We've met.* Now, he takes me to jail, and he asks me if I have any aliases.

Ron White:
And I was just being a smartass, and I said, "Yeah. They call me, "Tater Salad!" " Seventeen years later, I'm handcuffed on a bench in New York with blood coming out of my nose, and this cop goes, "Are you Ron 'Tater Salad' White?" Ya caught me! Ya caught the tater!

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