Savage declares desire to order Barbara Walters "to stand outside of the Lincoln tunnel from 3am to 6am in fishnet stockings for the rest of" her life
Please upgrade your flash player. The video for this item requires a newer version of Flash Player. If you are unable to install flash you can download a QuickTime version of the video.
From the February 19 edition of Talk Radio Network’s The Savage Nation:
SAVAGE: Then there’s another show with the rotting jungle fruit, the women -- the screeching, horrendous women -- with Barbara Walters. Barbara Walters, I don’t know, if I were in charge -- if I had any power -- and there was a tribunal, and people had to come before me and they get punished according to what they did to this society, Barbara Walters would come before me and I’d say, let me hear what you -- what did you do for the last 50 years? This is what you did for a living? OK, here’s your punishment: You have to stand outside the Lincoln Tunnel from 3 a.m. to 6 a.m. in fishnet stockings for the rest of your life. She won’t have any takers, but she’d have to stand there to realize how far she’s -- she’s fallen. That’s what I think of her.
















How about you stand in the middle of San Francisco wearing a white hood and burning a cross while reciting The Fourteen Words, Savage?
Oh wait, you do that everyday already. Never mind..
No, he'd just slow down traffic with all the happy gawkers-- it'd be worse than a toll booth.
Now Walters... that might actually speed up traffic through the tunnel-- people would consider it a plus.
Why only between 3am and 6am? It's a fantasy, why not make it 24 hours? Reminds me of when Dwight Schrute in "The Office" revealed his ultimate fantasy:
Dwight: Welcome to the Hotel Hell. Check in time now. Check out time is never.
Jim: Does my room have cable?
Dwight: No, and the sheets are made of fire!
Jim: Can I change rooms?
Dwight: No, we're all booked up. Hell convention in town!
Jim: Can I have a late check out?
[pauses]
Dwight: I'll have to talk to the manager.
Jim: You're not the manager...even in your own fantasy?
Dwight: I'm the owner....co-owner. With Satan!
Jim: Okay, just so I understand it...in your wildest fantasy, you are in hell. And you are co-running a bed and breakfast with the devil.
Dwight: But I haven't told you my salary.
Jim: Go.
Dwight: Eighty thousand dollars a year!