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Ali Wong,"Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome to the stage: Ali Wong! Hi. Hello! Welcome! Thank you! Thank you for coming. Hello! Hello. We are gonna have to get this shit over with, ’cause I have to pee in, like, ten minutes. But thank you, everybody, so much for coming. Um… It’s a very exciting day for me. It’s been a very exciting year for me. I turned 33 this year. Yes! Thank you, five people. I appreciate that. Uh, I can tell that I’m getting older, because, now, when I see an 18-year-old girl, my automatic thought… is “Fuck you.” “Fuck you. I don’t even know you, but fuck you!” ‘Cause I’m straight up jealous. I’m jealous, first and foremost, of their metabolism. Because 18-year-old girls, they could just eat like shit, and then they take a shit and have a six-pack, right? They got that-that beautiful inner thigh clearance where they put their feet together and there’s that huge gap here with the light of potential just radiating through.
And then, when they go to sleep, they just go to sleep. Right? They don’t have insomnia yet. They don’t know what it’s like to have to take a Ambien or download a Meditation Oasis podcast to calm the chatter of regret and resentment towards your family just cluttering your mind. They have their whole lives ahead of them. They don’t have HPV yet. They just go to sleep in peace at night. Everybody has HPV, OK? Everybody has it. It’s OK. Come out already. Everybody has it. If you don’t have it yet, you go and get it. You go and get it. It’s coming. You don’t have HPV yet, you’re a fucking loser, all right? That’s what that says about you. A lot of men don’t know that they have HPV, because it’s undetectable in men. It’s really fucked up. HPV is a ghost that lives inside men’s bodies and says, “Boo!” in women’s bodies. My doctor told me that I have one of two strains of HPV. Either I have the kind that’s gonna turn into cervical cancer… …or I have the kind where my body will heal itself. Very helpful, this doctor, right? So, basically, either I’m gonna die… or you’re in the presence of Wolverine, bitches. We’ll find out. Um, I can also tell that I’m getting older, because my Kindle is turning into a self-help library. I’m not interested in books like Fifty Shades of Grey, OK? I’m interested in The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up. Yes. Yes, that’s right, how to declutter my home to achieve inner peace and my optimum level of success. That’s what your 30s is all about. How can I turn this shit around? I’m a horrible person, I’m not happy with where I am, how can I turn this shit around? Help me, Tony Robbins, help me!
I have a hoarding problem, which I’m hoping is the center of all of my other problems. I’m hoping that if the hoarding goes away, the HPV will also disappear. I have a hoarding problem because my mom is from a third world country and she taught me that you can never throw away anything, because you never know when a dictator’s gonna overtake the country and snatch all your wealth. So, you better hold onto that retainer from the third grade, ’cause it might come in handy as a shovel when you’re busy stuffing gold up your butt and running away from the Communists.
The last time I was at home in San Francisco, I was trying to help her get rid of shit. Don’t ever do that with your mom. It was like the worst experience of my life. It was so emotional. We were screaming and fighting and yelling and it all came to a climax when she refused to let go of a Texas Instruments TI-82… manual. The manual. She don’t even know… where the calculator is. Those of you under 25 probably don’t know what that calculator is. It was this calculator that bamboozled my generation. We were all required to buy it when we were in eight grade. It cost like $200. And everybody thought it was like this Judy Jetson’s laptop from the future. All because what? It could graph. It was like the Tesla of my time. And my mom got so emotional about the manual and she was like, “You never know when you might need this.” And I was like, “But… I do know… that I’m gonna have to clean all this shit up when you die.” “And I’m not trying to be a procrastinator anymore. Because according to Deepak-Oprah, that’s not the way for me to achieve my optimum level of success.” I grew up a lot this past year. Uh, this past year I also got married. Yeah. To a man who now has HPV. Very lucky guy. He gave me something. I gave him something. That will also last forever. No, really. I’m the lucky girl, because before him, I dated a lot of losers. Lots of losers. A lot of skaters. You wanna be a grown-ass woman, stop dating skaters. Stop dating skaters unless you wanna wake up on a mattress in a kitchen. They’re sexy on the outside, malt liquor on the inside. Horrible. But my husband, I first met him at this wedding and, uh, he’s– he’s much better looking than me, he’s way out of my league, and I saw him and I was like, “Oh, my God, who is that?” And the first thing I learned about him was that, at the time, he was attending Harvard Business School. And I was like, “Oh, my God, I’m gonna trap his ass.” “Going to trap his ass!” And I trapped his ass initially by not kissing him until the fifth date, which is a very unusual move on my part. But I did it on purpose, because I knew that he was a catch. So I was like, “All right, Ali, you gotta make this dude believe that your body is a secret garden.” When, really, it’s a public park… …that has hosted many reggae fests… …and has even accidentally let… two homeless people inside. I thought they were hipsters, OK? That store Urban Outfitters has made things very confusing… for my generation. You homeless or you a hipster? Is that beard for fashion or for warmth? It happened to… It happened in San Francisco, when I was living there, and I saw this guy in broad daylight and we had, like, we had… We had so much chemistry. He was like, “Hey, wassup?” I was like, “Wassup?” And we– The next thing I knew, we were getting busy in the back of my Volvo. And then after we were done, he was like, “Hey, can you drop me off?” I was like, “Where?” He was like, “At the park.” And I dropped him off at Golden Gate Park and watched him run into the middle with all his other homeless friends, and I was like, “Oh, no!” “I just fucked a homeless dude! Again!” My husband is Asian. Which a lot of people are shocked by, because, usually, Asian-American women who, like, you know, wear these kinda glasses and have a lot of opinions, they like to date white dudes. You go to any hipster neighborhood in a major city in America and that shit is turning into a Yoko Ono factory. It’s… too much. I don’t know what’s wrong with these bitches. I get it, you know, because being with a white dude you feel very… You feel very picturesque when you’re with a white dude, you know. You feel like you’re in a Wes Anderson movie or something. And you know, white dudes, they teach you about a lot of cool stuff like voting and recycling, and disturbing documentaries. They introduce you to cool stuff like that and it’s very, you know, it’s hot hookin’ up with a white dude. I mean, nothing makes me feel more powerful than when a white dude eats my pussy. Oh, my God. I just feel like I’m absorbing all of that privilege and all of that entitlement… …you know, just right there, through the money hole and just… And then also, he’s so vulnerable down there. I’m, like, “I could just crush your head at any moment, white man! I could just kill you right now! Crush those brains! Colonize the colonizer!” You know?
But I think that for marriage, it can be nice to be with somebody of your own race. The advantage is that you get to go home… and be racist together. You get to say whatever you like! You don’t gotta explain shit. My husband, half-Filipino, half-Japanese. I’m half-Chinese and half-Vietnamese. And we spend 100 percent of our time shitting on Korean people. It’s… amazing. It’s what love is built on, you know?
My last boyfriend was Cuban and his family would shit on Mexican people all the time. And I was like, “Hold it. You guys aren’t Mexican?” Asian-American men are very underrated. I don’t know why people don’t go for them. They’re the sexiest. Asian men are the sexiest. They got no body hair from the neck down. It’s like making love to a dolphin. Oh, my God. It’s so smooth, just like a slip and slide. Just black fish, Tilikum, all up in my bed every night, you know? Ooh-wee. You mess with a Jewish dude and your body is all fucked up afterwards. It’s all red and inflamed and you’re like, “I did not ask to be exfoliated today.” “This is the last time I go on J-date, more like loofah date. Thanks for the rug burn, Avi.” And then Asian men, no body odor. None. They just smell like responsibility. That’s where the umami flavor comes from.
I think my husband and I have a huge unspoken understanding, uh, between each other, because he’s half-Filipino and half-Japanese and I’m half-Chinese and half-Vietnamese. So, we’re both half-fancy Asian… …and half-jungle Asian. Yeah! You guys know the difference. The fancy Asians are the Chinese, the Japanese. They get to do fancy things like host Olympics. Jungle Asians host diseases. It’s… It’s different. But he grew up on the East Coast, going to private school, playing lacrosse, uh, you know, learning Latin and playing chess and rugby. He grew up like Filipino Carlton, OK? So, he didn’t know anything about Vietnamese people until he met me. And on one of our first dates, he took me to this restaurant on the west side of Los Angeles called Pho Show. He was like, “It’s authentic Vietnamese. I read about it on Yelp!” I was like, “It’s not authentic, OK?” You can tell, first and foremost, by the name, ’cause it don’t got a number in it. Second of all, you can tell by the bathroom. If it was legit, the bathroom would double as a supply closet. When I pee, I need to see ten gallons of bleach, an ATM machine and a grandma with glaucoma napping in the corner. And the wait staff here is too nice. We need to leave this restaurant deaf and emotionally abused. I grew up going to private school, too. Him and I are both total, like, private school Asians. We both are big hippies, too. We like to backpack through Southeast Asia. We like to do yoga. We do ayahuasca ceremonies. We do silent meditation retreats. That’s right, we pay $800 to shut up for a weekend. We do shit like that. Uh, we eat gluten-free, which means we eat all that bread that tastes like free-range Chewbacca. We eat that lesbian bread that’s like… …a thousand percent of your daily fiber… and 20 percent spoken word poetry. When you eat it, you queef a shitty poem about… …supporting Caitlyn Jenner or whatever. And so, it’s funny, right, because he’s Asian, too. But sometimes, all of this hippy-dippy shit we do… makes me feel like we are white people doing an impression of Asian people. Like, we have these Chinese scrolls up on the wall… and neither of us know what the fuck they mean. We’re like, “Oh, that seems to go very well with our Buddha piggy bank from Pier 1 Imports. That seems to be providing some good feng shui for the house. Him and I had been dating for four years and I– I just had this sneaking suspicion that he was gonna propose… because… I had been pressuring him to do it. So, you know, I just had this wacky women’s intuition. That’s how proposals really work, OK? A woman has to incept the idea into the man’s head. First passively and then if he doesn’t get the message, extremely aggressively. You gotta threaten to leave without ever actually leaving, because you know that you’re too old and it’s too late to go back out there and find a new man and start the whole manipulation cycle all over again. So, you’re like, “I’m just gonna stick with this dude, focus on trapping this dude, and just nag the shit outta him until he becomes weak and caves in and gets fed up and is like, “Shut the fuck up! Fine, will you marry me?” And then afterwards, the woman is always, like, “Oh, my God! He proposed!” “It came outta nowhere. And look, he got me the exact ring I wanted. How did he know? Maybe he saw it on my Pinterest page or something… that I sent to my best friend, that I told her to send to him every day.” Let me tell you something. If a man has a Pinterest page… he’s probably Pinterested in men. We got engaged on a Saturday. I bought my wedding dress the following Tuesday… because I had tried it on in 2012. I was ready. I was ripe. I was rotten. I need to be made into banana bread. That’s how rotten I was. People are always very surprised at how, off-stage, with my husband, I’m a completely different person. You– Like, you would not recognize my personality at all with him. With him, I’m very soft, and, like, very nurturing and very domestic. We’ve been together now for five years, and for five years, I’ve packed his lunch every single day. Yeah. Yes. Yes. Yes. I did that so that he’d become dependent on me. ‘Cause he graduated from Harvard Business School, and I don’t wanna work anymore. I don’t. I straight up don’t wanna work anymore. I don’t feed him out of the goodness of my heart. I do it as an investment in my financial future. ‘Cause I don’t wanna work anymore. I’ve been reading that book by Sheryl Sandberg, she’s the C.O.O. of Facebook, and she wrote that book that got women all riled up about our careers. Talking about how we as women should challenge ourselves to sit at the table and rise to the top. And her book is called Lean In. Well, I don’t wanna lean in, OK? I wanna lie down. I want to lie the fuck down. I think feminism is the worst thing that ever happened to women. Our job used to be no job. We had it so good. We could have done the smart thing, which would have been to continue playing dumb for the next century and be like, “We’re dumb women. We don’t know how to do anything. So, I guess we better just stay at home all day and eat snacks and watch Ellen.” “‘Cause we’re too stupid to have any real responsibility.” And then, all these women had to show off and be like, “We could do it! We could do anything.” “Bitch, shut up!” “Don’t tell them the secret.” They ruined it for us, and now we’re expected to work. When I hear the phrase, “Double-income household,” I wanna throw up. A lot of women get very upset with me about those comments. And they’re like, “But, Ali, we have so many more options now.” Oh, you don’t think we had a lot of options when our day was free? Unscheduled, unsupervised, and most importantly, sponsored? Do you know how much shittier food tastes when you know you have to earn it?
A lot of my friends, when we walk around together, they’ll get very judgmental about housewives that we’ll see on the street. And they’ll be like, “Look at that fucking housewife. Not doing anything. Look at that housewife, just walking around all day, getting massages in her Lululemon pants.” I’m like, “That bitch is a genius.” “She’s not a housewife, she’s retired.”
I do write for Fresh Off the Boat on ABC. Yeah. Which is… It’s a great show. I love it a lot. I love my co-workers. It’s a great writing staff and in terms of day jobs, it’s probably one of the best you could ask for, but I still gotta work at a office every day. Which means I gotta shit in a office every day. Housewives, they don’t gotta shit in a office. Housewives get to shit in their house. Skin to seat. They don’t gotta use that horrible toilet paper cover. They don’t gotta… …ten times a day, every day… like you’re about to eat a sad-ass meal. They don’t gotta do that. They don’t gotta use that one-ply toilet paper, that office toilet paper, that they purposely make difficult to pull out. They try to ration me with their communist toilet paper that’s not even effective. It basically just dehydrates your butt hole. It’s basically like wiping your butt with the desert. I literally spat on my toilet paper two days ago, to try to make a MacGyver baby wipe, to moisten it, and then it backfired ’cause my fingers broke through and digitally stimulated more doo doo to come out, and then I had to start all over again. And you can never finish wiping at work because you always feel rushed ’cause you’re paranoid that your co-worker’s gonna recognize your shoes underneath the stall. And you’re like, “Oh, no! Courtney’s listening. She’s waiting. She’s timing me.” And then you hurry, hurry, hurry, and then you never finish wiping and then your butt hole feels caked in doo doo all day long. And then if you dare scratch yourself, your underwear at the end of the day looks like it’s been run over by the Goonies. Housewives, they don’t gotta muffle their shit, too. They don’t gotta worry about the velocity with which their doo doo comes out. They don’t gotta try to, you know, squeeze the butt cheeks together to make sure that the doo doo comes out at a slow and steady pace, so that no unpredictable noise suddenly escapes and brings you deep, deep shame. Housewives are free to just blow ass into the toilet and let it echo and reverberate to the ends of their hallways while watching as much Netflix on their iPad as they want. They don’t gotta take these boring, repressed shits. They can listen to podcasts. Planet Money. They can do whatever they want.
You know, it’s– it’s very distracting for me when I hear my co-workers blow ass into the toilet. I lose respect for them. Nothing they say to me anymore holds any sort of credence. I heard one of my co-workers blow ass into the toilet the other day. This bitch had the nerve to come up to me and say, “You need to get to work on time.” I was like, “You need to eat bananas.” “I saw those green ballet flats. I know that shit was you. Don’t try to tell me to get my shit together when I heard you not have your shit together.” My father-in-law had this huge sit-down with me and my husband recently. Um, and he was like, “Hey, I wanna talk to you guys about money. You guys need to make a lot more money if you wanna provide your children with the same kind of privileged childhood that you guys had.” I was like, “Why you telling me this shit? I should not be a part of this conversation. You tell you son that. Don’t your understand that I trapped your son for his earning potential? Why else would I choose to fuck one person for the rest of my life? I chose to marry him on the promise of early retirement, and when I said, ‘I do,’ what I really meant was, ‘Oh, I’m done.'” I’m done. I don’t wanna work anymore and I’m not dieting anymore. Since I got married last year, I’ve been eating fried chicken skin every day since. That’s right. And just fulfilling my destiny. Which is to turn into a circle with eyelashes. Like Mrs. Pacman, just… Let’s redecorate.
I gave up a lot of myself when I got married. I’m a– I’m a disgusting pervert. I’m a pervert. I’m a gross filthy animal. And I think it’s because I started watching porn at a very young age. And what happens when you start watching porn at a young age is that… y-you get sicker, and sicker, and sicker. The images you crave get sicker, and sicker, and sicker, but it’s OK, because the Internet will always catch up to you.
I broke up with my last boyfriend because he refused to put it in the back. I was like, “Uh, you’re a idiot, dude. Do you realize that if I went on Craigslist… and posted ‘Tiny Asian female seeking anal…’ the Internet would crash.” “And all the Jewish male heads in the universe would simultaneously explode.” They would explode. A lot of women get really, you know… freaked out about anal. And they’re like, “Oh, I don’t wanna do that. I’m scared of– of the pain.” You ain’t scared of the pain. Women, they wax their eyebrows, they do all sorts of crazy shit. You’re not scared of the pain. What you’re really scared of is doo doo on the dick. You’re scared that he’s gonna see that and that’s gonna be all of your shame, your inner evil, all your secrets and lies. Sephora can’t help you now. But don’t worry, ’cause when he puts it in the butt, all he’s thinking about is, “I just put it in her butt.” “I gotta go call my mom, my dad, Dave, my grandma.” You’re– If you’re married, you’re gonna have to do anal eventually, OK? You have to, because you gotta change it up. You gotta change it up, so that you don’t cheat on each other. You gotta keep it interesting. If you put it in different holes, maybe you’ll feel like you’re fucking different people. I was very sexually active in my 20s, and as a result, I’m a little bit… …stretched out down there, OK? So, when I finally did anal, I just felt like I got a second chance at life, you know? I was, like, “Oh, my God! It’s like I’m going back in time!” ♪ A whole new world ♪ It was magical. A big fantasy of mine before I got married was to help as many men as possible discover their prostate. Yeah, like a conqueror. I just wanted to… Now, if you haven’t done it before, ladies, go home and treat yourself. Do it tonight. You only live once. YOLO. Just sneak your– Just give your man a little– a little push-push in the tush-tush. Just give him a little Atari, you know, and you’ll get a lot of resistance from the man at first. You’ll get a lot of “No! No! No! No, please! No, really, I don’t– No! I don’t! I don’t! No!” They get all squirmy wormy because… they’re scared. They’re scared that if you stick your thumb up there and succeed, and they like it, that then, it might mean that they’re gay. And I like that fear. That shit turns me on, you know? Especially when that fear metamorphosizes into pleasure. Oh, my God! And you just see the look in the man’s eye like he’s discovered nirvana. And it’s like you’re the first lady to show him that he had a magical clit in his butt hole. And then, you as the woman, in his eyes, just become the Lord of the Rim, you know? My husband is unfortunately just not as freaky as me. When– When I’ve asked him to spank me, this is what he does. “Hey. Hey, are you OK? Are you all right? You know I respect you, right?” I’m, like, “Yes, I know you respect me and that’s why you need to abuse me. OK?” ‘Cause it’s the most strong-headed, loud-mouthed women who like to be abused the most in bed. Women who are C.E.O.s, they just wanna be roughed around. They just want their– Glasses always means the woman wants some– It’s because we’re so in control all the time, that we just wanna experience some risk and be out of control, you know? Like, “I don’t wanna die! Don’t kill me! I don’t wanna die!” But I also don’t want to be sure that I’m gonna live. You know? I just wanna be out of control for once. Just– Just choke me enough so that I can’t talk. ‘Cause if I can talk, I’m gonna tell you what to do. And I’m tired of being the boss. I’m the boss all the time, so, in the bedroom, you be the boss. Yes. Because I’m the real boss. And I told you so, motherfucker, so do it. Sheryl Sandberg, that woman who wrote Lean In, has had such a big impact that now, because of her, there is a ban on the word “bossy” in elementary schools, because according to her, it’s sexist to use the word “bossy,” because boys are never called bossy. So, now, instead of saying, “You’re bossy,” you’re supposed to say, “You have executive leadership skills.” Which is a very roundabout way of saying: “You’re a little cunt.” I’m just waiting for the right moment to, like, become a housewife, financially, you know? I want my husband to get us to, like, a certain point financially. I wanna get to the point as a couple where I can comfortably afford sliced mango. Know what I’m talking about? I’m talking about that Whole Foods mango. That $10-a-box Whole Foods mango that was sliced by white people. That’s the kind of income bracket I’m striving for. That’s when you know you’ve made it, when you’re eating mango that was sliced by a dude named Noah. I want Noah mango… …Rebecca kiwi, Danielle pineapple. You know what else I want? I wanna be able to take a stroll on a sidewalk, see a quarter, and just keep on walking. Like a princess. I have some useful advice for all my Asian-American brothers and sisters. Yeah! Never go paintballing with a Vietnam veteran. So, I don’t know if you guys can tell, but I am seven and a half months pregnant. Yeah. It’s very rare and unusual to see a female comic perform pregnant, because female comics… don’t get pregnant. Just try to think of one. I dare you. There’s– None of them. Once they do get pregnant, they generally disappear. That’s not the case with male comics. Once they have a baby, they’ll get up on stage a week afterwards and they’ll be like, “Guys, I just had this fucking baby. That baby’s a little piece of shit. It’s so annoying and boring.” And all these other shitty dads in the audience are, like, “That’s hilarious. I identify.” And their fame just swells because they become this relatable family funny man all of a sudden. Meanwhile, the mom is at home, chapping her nipples, feeding the fucking baby, and wearing a frozen diaper ’cause her pussy needs to heal from the baby’s head shredding it up. She’s busy. So, I don’t know what’s gonna happen to me. You know, a lot of my female stand-up comic friends who are a lot more successful and famous than me discouraged me from having a kid. And they were like, “Ali, why are you gonna have a kid? You just gonna become– You’re gonna disappear, and you’re gonna become some lame stay-at-home mom.” I was like, “Yeah, that’s the dream.” That’s the point. This is the ultimate trap. I won, you know?
Another thing a lot of my friends said to me when they were discouraging me from having a kid, they were like, “Why are you gonna have a kid? Why don’t you just travel the world with your husband and just do whatever you want for the rest of your lives with no kid attached.” I was like, “Yeah, that’s cool… until my husband dies.” Which he’s definitely gonna before me. Because I’m a Asian woman, and therefore, guaranteed to live until I’m a billion. I’m guaranteed, like a turtle from the Galapagos, OK? We all know the phrase “black don’t crack.” Well, Asian don’t die. We don’t die. Especially the women, we live forever. And you know why we’re such bad drivers? Because we’re trying to die. We’re like, “Yeah! Let me see how invincible I really am!” “Imma make this left hand turn signal and ignore this red light completely.” “I’m gonna make a right turn– I changed my mind, it’s a U-turn!” “I changed my mind again. It’s a O-turn!” Every time I get into a car accident… …I’m like, “Oh, my God, not again!” I need to hide my face so that everybody doesn’t see that it’s what everybody thought it was gonna be. So embarrassing. My Toyota Corolla is a mess. There’s this huge bear claw scratch on the side from this aggressive brick wall that came out of nowhere. And then, on the hood, there’s multiple hand prints from pedestrians who have had to alert me of their existence. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but I’m still here, you know? I need to have children to keep me company when I get older. It’s lonely. My mom is 80, going through a full blown mid-life crisis. ‘Cause she knows that she’s got a century more to go. And she is so lonely. All of her white friends, dead. Her Mexican friends, dead. Black friends, dead. I’m just kidding. She doesn’t have any black friends. Life is not Rush Hour, the movie, OK? I need children to be there for me when I’m older, when I get as old as her. And when I say be there for me, I mean pay for me when my husband isn’t around to support me anymore. I’m not trying to be one of those old Chinese ladies who recycles for a living. That’s not my destiny, OK? Old Chinese ladies, they don’t give a fuck. They got no shame. They’re like, “I’m just gonna recycle… go bald… go to the park, do this shit.” They do that ’cause it’s a free activity. For them. They do it in their– their big-ass V. Stiviano visor, their Darth Vader-Tomb Raider- Boba Fett helmet. They wear that to protect themselves from their arch-nemesis, the sun. Their in a contest to see who’s gonna burn out first. Old Asian ladies and the sun are like the Tupac and Biggie of longevity. I also decided to have a kid because uh, I’m only 33, which, I know, is not technically high-risk, but my body was starting to show signs of change. And it– And it scared me. Like, I’m only 33 and… …my pussy is not as wet as it used to be. It’s very demoralizing, OK? Do you remember when you were 18 years old, and your pussy was just sopping wet all the time? All the time, you just took it for granted that you could just reach your hand down your pants at any given moment, you throw up the peace sign afterwards, and there would be that snail-trail in between your fingers. Oh, my God, it was so juicy. You could just blow a bubble wand with it, just… “I slime you, I slime you. Ghostbusters!” I don’t know what kind of mother I’m gonna be. I’m– I’m 33, and I did have to get a little bit of science involved when trying to get pregnant. And a lot of that… is most likely my fault. Because, when I was in my 20s, I ate Plan B like skittles. So, my uterus probably looked like a smoker’s lung. And I found out that my progesterone levels were alarmingly low. So, then I had to take these hormone pills that were suppositories, and Push Pop them up myself every single night. And then, at my writing job, at Fresh Off The Boat, I would be storyboarding in front of my co-workers, and then, at some point, the pill would inevitably dissolve and melt into my underwear, and I had to act like everything was OK, when everything was clearly not OK. And then, a side effect of the progesterone was that it made me extremely itchy. So, then I had to find ways to discretely scratch myself underneath the conference table, and then resist the urge to immediately smell my fingers afterwards. I want to be able to smell my fingers when I wanna smell my own goddamn fingers. Housewives, they can just scratch and sniff all day long. They just vacuum, scratch, sniff. They make a sandwich. “Uh, mmm.” They watch Property Brothers, scratch, “What’s crackin’? Mmm.” Every time you scratch yourself, all you can think about is, “When can I smell my fingers? When can I smell my fingers? When can I discretely find a way to…” “…smell my fingers?” Nature made you urgently curious to protect you, ’cause you gotta check that it’s all good in the hood. If it’s too funky, you need to see a doctor. Your fingers are your first WebMD. When my husband and I were trying to have a kid, a lot of people were like, “Oh, my God, that’s so hot. You guys doin’ a lot of fuckin’?” No, dude. That’s– That’s shit you do in your 20s, OK? When in– When you’re in your 30s, and you’ve been trying to get pregnant for a while, it gets very clinical. You pee on these ovulation strips that tell you when the eggs are droppin’. It tells you when it’s Easter time. And I would only fuck him when it was Easter time. It was, like, only four days out of the month, and outside of that, I would be like, “We’re not fuckin’. I need you to save it. I want your sperm to be as pent-up, and as angry and rapey as possible. So that, when they come out, it’s like, ‘Release the Kraken!'” And they just come out like a bunch of angry refugees escaping a dictatorship, you know? And, um… yeah, and most of the time, like, we wouldn’t even have sex, ’cause I was so tired when I would come home, and see the smiley face on the ovulation strip, and I’d be like, “OK, it’s go time,” and I would just give my husband a hand job most of the time, and he would close his eyes immediately. I know what that means, OK? When somebody closes their eyes during sex, it’s not because they’re in such ecstasy with you that– that they need to close their eyes. When somebody closes their eyes during sex, it’s because they’re literally trying to shut the image of your face out of their head and instead project two Latina lesbians that they saw earlier that day on RedTube onto the back of their eyelids. Which is fine by me, because then he doesn’t have to see the expression on my face that says, “Please, hurry the fuck up.” And then, when he was about to finish, I could always tell because the indication is very universal when a man is about to finish. It’s when they get that… that stupid-ass look on their face… …where they look like they just got bit by a zombie, just… And then, because we’re hippies, I’d be like, “Hey, hey! Please look me in the eye and remember to come with intention, OK?” And then, I would jump on him, and hold onto his neck, and I would just twerk, twerk, twerk the shit out of him… and do some of this shit that I learned in Atlanta. And then I would turn upside down immediately afterwards… to make sure all of that Harvard nectar would just drain inside of me. That’s right. ‘Cause I don’t wanna work anymore. I’m very grateful to be pregnant and to be… this far along, to be seven and a half months pregnant, because, last year, I had a miscarriage, which is very common. And a lot of women who are in their 20s flip out when they hear that. They’re like, “Oh, my God. That’s so dark and terrible. I can’t believe that.” I’m 33. Girl, when you’re 33, you’ll know plenty of women who have had a miscarriage. It’s super common, and I wish more women would talk about it so they wouldn’t feel so bad when they go through it. When I told my mom– She’s from a third world country, and when I told her I had one, she was like, “Uh, yeah. Where I’m from, that’s like losing a pair of shoes. It’s whatevs, OK?” And everything happens for a reason. I found out at my six-week sonogram, which is very early. And the doctor says to me, “Oh, my God, I see two sacks, which means you’re having twins.” And I was like, “No!” And then she said, “But what I don’t see is a heartbeat.” And I was like, “Yes!” “The Lord is mysterious!” Don’t feel bad, OK? They were the size of poppy seeds. I’ve picked boogers larger than the twins that I lost. And most women won’t let their husbands watch when they’re going through a miscarriage. I sat my husband down in front of me while I sat on the toilet, and I was like, “You look.” “You watch the whole thing.” And he felt so bad for me. And I used it as leverage and held that shit over his head for a month and got him to do whatever the fuck I wanted him to do for 30 days. He took me to see Beyoncé. He bought me a bike off of Craigslist. That’s my miscarriage bike, and I love it very much. For 30 days, I finally had the marriage I always wanted. I’m scared about giving childbirth, though. I’m– I’m very, very scared of childbirth. That’s why I’m going to hire a doula. You know what that is? You know what a doula is? That’s a white hippie witch… …that blows quinoa into your pussy to Keyser Söze all the pain away. A lot of women tried to freak me out. They tried to freak me out about childbirth by saying, “Ali, did you know that you’re gonna poop on the table?” I was like, “Yeah, I look forward to it.” I’m all backed up from holding in my shit at work. I can’t wait to cleanse. It makes sense, like, that you– that that happens because when you’re in labor, you push, you push, you push, and your husband will be asked to assist in the labor by lifting up your leg, which subsequently turns into a soft serve lever. You just shit on the floor in front of the love of your life. And just when you think that’s enough to make him finally leave you, boom, a baby comes out, and he gotta stay. That’s the real miracle of life, right there. I can already see how a child can really take its toll on a marriage, because the baby hasn’t even come out yet and I am already so resentful towards my husband. So much resentment, especially when he asks me to do shit around the house. “Hey, can you wash the dishes?” “No!” “Can you water the plants?” “I am not doing jack shit anymore. I’m busy makin’ a eyeball, OK? Are you makin’ a foot? I didn’t think so. You change the channel.” I can already see how there’s, like, this crazy double standard in our society of how it takes so little to be considered a great dad. And it also takes so little to be considered a shitty mom. People praise my husband for coming to all of my doctor’s appointments with me. “Oh, my God. I can’t believe he comes to all your doctor’s appointments. He is so supportive.” Guess who else has to go to those doctor appointments. Me! I’m the star of the show. There’s nothing for the camera to see if I’m not there. But he’s the hero for playing Candy Crush while I get my blood drawn. Meanwhile, if I do mushrooms seven months pregnant, I’m a bad mommy. You know, I– I– I, like, I berate my husband on, like, a daily basis. Partially because I really am mad at him. But mostly out of survival, because if he leaves me, I’m fucked. So, I have to chip away at his self-esteem on a daily basis… to keep him down so that he doesn’t believe that he’s worthy of another woman’s affection and leaves me. I gotta keep him around by keeping him down. People don’t tell you about all this shit that goes down with your body when you get pregnant, you know? Your nipples get huge and dark. I didn’t know that. I didn’t know that they get dark so that the baby can see, like, a bullseye. So that the baby can find it easier. And then, you know, they get big– they get big, like fingers. Like, “You, you. You owe me money, you.” My nipples look like Whoppers now, and naked, I look like a Minion. But I’m not gonna be one of those crazy pregnant ladies who tries to get all back in shape right after they get pregnant. No. Hopefully, if you see me in a year, I will have the kind of body where, if I do a nude scene on television, people will commend me for being courageous. For doing it. Now that I’m seven and a half months pregnant, my pussy’s all wet again. But it’s different. It’s not like when I was 18 years old, when it was like, really hot, you know? And I was like, “Why is it different?” And I looked it up, and my pussy’s all wet again because my– my body’s secreting mucus to protect the baby from bacteria attacking it. That’s not the same. When it’s straight up soldier glue, when it’s Neosporin. So, you know, I– I, in– previously, before I met my husband, I had dated a bunch of losers. And then, I meet this dream guy, who’s, like, way more handsome than me, out of my league, graduated from Harvard Business School. Worked hard to trap his ass. Got him to propose to me. Oh, my God, then we got married, all my dreams coming true, and then we got pregnant, and recently we bought our first home together. And, uh, two weeks into the escrow process, I discovered that my beautiful, Harvard-educated husband was $70,000 in debt. And me, with my hard-earned TV money, paid it all off. So, as it turns out, he’s the one who trapped me. How did he do it? How did he bamboozle me? Oh! Maybe because he went to Harvard Business School, the epicenter of white-collar crime. He Enron’d my ass. And now, if I don’t work, we die. Why else do you think I’m performing seven and a half months pregnant? All right, I’ve been Ali Wong. Have a good night, everybody. Thank you."
Anthony Jeselnik,"Thank you. Thank you. Thank you, San Francisco. Thank you so much. So good to be here. People were surprised when I told ’em I was gonna tape my special in San Francisco. Said, “Why would you do that? That’s the most politically correct city in the world.” Not when I’m on stage, it’s not. I love this place. One of my favorite cities to perform in. It’s a good place to hang out. Got to walk around a little bit today. Saw a baby. Saw a baby locked inside the back of a hot car. So it’s been a great day. Love that. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not a monster. I tried to help the baby. Tried to throw a rock through the window. Window was down. Ruined that baby’s whole weekend. It was worth it. I love San Francisco. One of my favorite things is how beautiful all the women are here. Yeah. Women in San Francisco are gorgeous. I say that despite what’s… going on in this crowd tonight. But you guys live here. You guys live here. You’ve seen ’em. I was in a bar last night, saw this beautiful woman. Like a supermodel. I walked up, I was like, “Hey, where you from? What do you do?” She goes, “Oh, me? I live here in San Francisco. I’m a brain surgeon.” I don’t know if this makes me sexist, but I was really impressed. You know? I mean… Most women… can’t pull off sarcasm. This is gonna be a good show. See, that joke, that joke is a test. To see if you guys are cool or not. That thing about the baby in the car, that’s just me clearing my throat. That joke’s the test. If you guys laugh at that joke, whole show goes great. You don’t laugh at that joke, whole show goes bad. And I’ve had shows go very, very bad. Doesn’t matter to me at all. Now, this next joke, this next joke is a test to see how cool you are. I, uh… I used to have a son. Already some of you see where this is going, that’s good. That’s good. I used to have a little two-year-old son, but he died. The same way Eric Clapton’s son died. For inspiration. I’m not gonna lie, this is the best that joke has ever done. You guys kinda laughed, then started talking to each other for some reason. Then started clapping, that is amazing. Most people just boo me. But if you didn’t understand the joke… don’t worry. It’s a complicated joke, a lot of things you gotta know. That joke is like an onion. You’ve gotta know who Eric Clapton is. Not a given these days. You’ve gotta know about his kid. You gotta know how clumsy that little lad was. You gotta know about that terrible fucking song. And then you gotta think all that’s funny. Now, I gotta get to know you guys a little bit. Starting with you for sure. I can tell you’re a big comedy fan and bat-shit insane. Did you just come from the fucking dentist or what? What is your name? – Peggy Jo. – Peggy. Peggy, what do you try to do? Not a lot, I’m disabled. You’re disabled? I know you’re disabled. Is this your husband with you? Okay. Sir, what do you do, so I can move the fuck on. – I’m an electrician. – You’re an electrician? Great. That’s an honorable job. That’s a good job to have. I’m sure you shock the shit out of her on a daily basis. Electrician. It’s a wonderful job. There’s a lot of bad jobs out there, I’ll tell you that right now. Lot of bad jobs. Hell, my Uncle John runs a summer camp for… kids about to get molested. I know, right? I know, it sounds awful. Sounds awful, but he loves it. He’s like… Says he’s never worked a day in his life. Doesn’t pay much, but the benefits… Do you guys have any kids? How many? I have one, and he has two. Okay. You guys ever done that thing where you go online and see how many sex offenders live around you? Isn’t it crazy? Isn’t it way more than you’d think? You think it might be like one or two. No, it’s like chicken pox. I went online, 15 child molesters. Fifteen child molesters within five miles of my apartment. So, why do we always have to meet at my place? And if you’re wondering, “Anthony, this is great, but are all of these jokes gonna be about hurting children?” I don’t know, probably. Seems like something I would do. I of course live in Los Angeles. I’ve got a nice place. Obviously. My brother’s been staying with me, which has been awful. My brother is crazy. Even my neighbors hate him. The other day I opened the door, I caught him masturbating. He looks me right in the eyes and goes, “Shut the door.” I said, “Get inside.” My family loves it when I put them in jokes. They love it. “Anthony, please, put me in your next joke.” “Are you sure? I’m gonna make you a pedophile.” “We don’t care. We wanna be part of this thing you’ve got going on.” So I wrote that joke, put my brother in. I’m in Chicago, where he lives. After the show, he comes backstage and I say, “Mikey, what’d you think about that new joke? Did you like the shout out?” And he gets all uncomfortable. He goes, “Well, crowd seemed to think it was funny… but I think it’s kinda weird that you got a joke where you wanna fuck me.” And I said, “What, Mikey? No! No, Mikey. You’re my brother. That’s a joke about you masturbating in front of my house.” And he goes, “Yeah, and then you’re like, ‘Get back inside.'” Just in case you guys are wondering whether my brother’s a fuckin’ idiot. Yeah, I’ve got a nice place. Try to keep it nice. Not always successful. Like, I tried getting a puppy. Disaster. Had to get rid of that puppy. Had to get rid of that puppy almost immediately. The first time I left it home alone, the first time I left that puppy home alone, that damn thing tore my entire place apart, shit everywhere, and starved to death. Why are you mad? I’m the one who couldn’t get his money back. And this is traditionally where crowds really start to turn on me. After I kill a puppy with neglect. And it’s okay. It’s okay, you can get mad at me. You can hate me. You can hate me and still laugh at me. That’s how talented I am. And I’m used to it. I’m used to it. I once dated a girl who punched me in the face as hard as she could. Once dated a girl, punched me right in the face as hard as she could. I didn’t do anything about it. I didn’t say anything about it. I just turned around and left the room. But in my head, in my head, all I was thinking was… “Now we’re even.” She was so mad. She got mad at me. She got mad at me ’cause I killed all of her plants. Killed every single one of her house plants. And she had told me. She said, “Anthony, I’m going out of town for two weeks. Give each one of these half a cup of water every other day.” But I’m a dude. All I heard was “two weeks” and “cheat on me.” Like my neighbors in L.A… My neighbors in L.A. have got this smokin’ hot 18-year-old daughter. I mean, she’s perfect. But she just got a tattoo of a butterfly over her chest. Which is horrible. Doesn’t she understand how dumb that’s gonna look some day, all stretched out over my lamp? Yeah, that’s a joke. That’s a joke where I’m a serial killer. I’m very open about it. Don’t you dare tighten up on me. I hate sensitivity. I hate it. Even when little kids get sensitive, that makes me mad. I got a six-year-old nephew. I asked what he wants for his birthday. He said, “Uncle Anthony, I want you to get me a Barbie doll.” I said, “Fuck you.” “You six-year-old piece of shit.” And don’t get me wrong. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t care if he plays with dolls. He can wear dresses if he wants to. But I’m not getting him a Barbie doll. You see, Barbie dolls give little boys unrealistic expectations… …of how easy it’s gonna be to tear off a head. I won’t do it. I get really mad when people get sensitive about comedy. If you’re sensitive about comedy, it’s the dumbest thing you can do. I call them the joke police. They always have one rule, one rule they have. You can’t make fun of this right now. After a couple years, they move on to something else, which is why it’s so hypocritical. Like the thing today, the thing right now you can’t make fun of, the thing that’s too sensitive at this moment? Trans-gendered people. See? You can’t do it. Can’t make fun of them. It’s too sensitive. In fact, you can’t even call them “chicks with dicks” anymore. No. No. You have to call them “men who talk too much.” Right? But I hear this all the time. People’ll be like, “Anthony, that was really funny. But, man, women must hate you. Women must come to your shows and hate the shit out of you.” And I always say, “No. No. Stupid women hate my shows.” “Stupid women hate my shows. Smart women… don’t come to my shows.” Speaking of which, what’s your name? – What? Kim. – Kim. – Kim, where you from? – San Jose. San Jose? Okay. What do you do, Kim? Um, I’m a branch manager. – Like for a bank? For a Pizza Hut? – No, for… What? What the fuck? Where’d you go to school? – UC Santa Cruz. – What’d you study? – Economics. – Economics? Okay. You ever gonna use that someday? I had to go to Catholic school when I was a kid. Hated Catholic school. Hated Catholic school more than anything. The nuns were vicious. They would hit me with a ruler, slap me in the face. Anything to defend themselves. You guys loved the shit out of that one, huh? Hated school. When I was in the fifth grade, one of my classmates got cancer. Came down with the cancer. Which was sad. But the story is actually cool and inspiring. Every single guy… Every single guy in the school, we all… shaved our heads to make fun of him. Yeah. No, it was great. It was great, we did it for like a month. We would have kept doin’ it, but you know. You know how cancer gets. You guys ever… You guys ever trace back your family history? Go back a couple generations in your family tree, find out embarrassing shit you wish you didn’t know? I traced my family tree back, found that I actually had family fighting on both sides in World War II. Humiliating. The piece-of-shit side of my family fought for the Nazi infantry in Germany, while the bad-ass Jeselniks were here in America spying for the Germans. I assume everyone is drinking tonight? – Yeah! – Yeah! Whoo! That’s good. I love to drink. Love it. Do it all the time, every day, always have. I don’t know where it comes from either. Even my parents tell me, when I was just a little baby, I used to climb out of my crib every morning, and then crawl over to the liquor cabinet… to try to spend time with them. I like San Francisco, so liberal. So liberal. Clap your hands here. Clap your hands if you own a gun. San Jose is in the house, huh? Not too bad. I once asked the crowd in Houston that question. They just started firing guns in the air. Didn’t even let me finish the question. I don’t own a gun. I’m against guns, to be honest. When I was a kid… When I was a kid, my parents had a gun. My parents said we had to have a gun. Gotta have a gun to protect the five children. Gotta have a gun to protect our five children. Of course, they eventually got rid of it… to protect their four children. I’m not gonna lie, it was fun while it lasted. I was getting pretty good towards the end. Man, my parents were strict. Mom and dad were strict. My mom and dad once made me smoke an entire pack of cigarettes. An entire pack of cigarettes in one sitting. Just to teach me an important lesson about brand loyalty. I learned a lot from my parents. Especially my dad. Like, I’ll never forget… the first time I ever got a bad report card in school. First time I got a bad report card, I brought it home, I gave it to my dad and my dad beat me. Beat the hell out of me. But I learned something. Because the next time I got a bad report card in school, I brought it home and I gave it to my mom. Let her take the hit. Yeah.
My dad was a hard-ass. One of those guys who believed that men just learn by doing things. You know? You don’t take classes. You don’t read the instructions. You just do it and figure it out. Like, when I was a kid, I never got to take swimming lessons. No, my dad would pick me up and throw me in the water to teach himself CPR.
As a kid, my dad’s prized possession, my dad’s favorite thing in the world growing up? My dad was the proud owner of a Mickey Mantle rookie card. Mickey Mantle rookie baseball card, mint condition. Kept it between two little pieces of plastic. But I was a kid. I didn’t know any better. One day I took that card to school and I traded it to a classmate for a candy bar. You know what that card is worth today? My relationship with my father.
I mean it, my dad was no joke. My dad did not fuck around. My dad did not trust anybody. My dad did not trust anyone. In fact, he had a saying… but he wouldn’t tell me. What, too clever for you? That joke is fuckin’ amazing. Last year was a sad year for my family. Last year, my mom should’ve been celebrating her 60th birthday. But because of drugs, alcohol and other terrible decisions, we all forgot. It was sad.
When I was a kid, I used to fantasize about getting older, growing up and having money, and buying my mom nice things for her birthday. When I was a kid, we were poor. So poor I remember, just so I could go to my senior prom, just so I could go to my senior prom, I had to sell my U.S. passport on the street. Sold my passport on the street for 300 bucks to get to go to my prom. Of course this was before 9/11 so… my bad, everybody. Weird joke to clap for, but sure. My mom actually should’ve been on one of the planes that crashed on 9/11. I think.
I mean, don’t get me wrong, I loved my mother. She was my mom, of course I loved her. We fought a lot. My mom could be very racist. Very racist. And I do not tolerate racism. That’s ignorance and I hate that. When I was a kid, like nine years old, I’d come home after school. Once in a while, I’d bring a friend over to play with me at my house. Once in a while, I’d bring a black friend over. And when I did that, my mom would act weird. She’d pull me aside and say, “Anthony, who’s your new friend? Is he a drug dealer?” And I would say, “Shut up, Mom, that’s racist. Put your money away.” I never get to see my family anymore, really. Most of them are in jail, to be honest. And we never talk, write letters or any of that shit. ‘Cause they’re all in jail for the exact same thing. My testimony. You. – What’s your name? – Melissa. – Melissa, where you from? – Santa Clara. – What do you do? – I win things on the radio. – You win things on the radio? – Yeah. Follow-up question, how’d you get tickets to this? Let me ask you this. You ever, uh… you ever find a body in the woods? Ever do that? No? It’s okay. I have. I was walking through the woods one day and… some poor bastard had stepped in a bear trap or something. I never told anybody about it. But I went back there a week later, and he was dead. Yeah. I do crazy shit like that all the time. What can I say? I’m wacky. The other night I was driving my car. I was driving my car and I ran over a deer… a dear, dear friend. I’m torn constantly. At night, I do shows, but during the day, I’ve got a hobby. During the day, I go from town to town… and I shut down the local abortion clinic. You heard me. I shut down abortion clinics everywhere I go. It’s easy for me. I’m charming. I stand outside the front doors all day long and… consistently underbid them. You guys mad about that one? It’s gonna get so much fuckin’ worse. Gotta talk to one more person. You, sir. What’s your name? – Allan. – Allan, where you from? – Frisco. – Frisco. I can tell you’re a local ’cause of how cool you are. What do you do, Frisco? – I fight fires. I fight fires. – You what? You’re a firefighter? Awesome. What do you wanna do? If you could do anything. If you could do any job in the world, what would your dream job be? – Travel the world. – Travel the world. It’s good to have a dream. I hope you go for it. It doesn’t sound like you’re even gonna get close. I think you should do it. Travel the world. Do it.
Everyone should try to live their dream, that’s my point. Everyone. I get to live my dream. I mean, not when I’m in San Francisco, but for the most part. Being a comedian was my dream. ‘Cause no one can tell me what to do. That’s all I cared about. Most people don’t ever try to live their dream. Lot of people try and they fail. Which I think is better, more noble, more respectable.
I had an uncle. All he ever dreamed about, cared about, talked about… wanted to become an astronaut. Fly into space one day. And he went for it. He went for it. And he failed. He blew it. Ended up becoming one of those pussies… …on the Space Shuttle Challenger. You guys remember that, right? I think it’s funny. I think it’s funny how the things that happen to us when we’re kids end up staying with us for our entire lives. I got this little niece. When she was three years old, she almost drowned. And now to this day, even ten years later, she still will not go anywhere near me. Yeah, I was babysitting her… and trying to do laundry. And she accidentally fell into the washing machine. Thought I was quick. I got good reflexes. I thought I got her out before anyone would find out what happened, but nope. Turned everything pink. You’re gonna find out a lot about yourselves on this next one. Hey, did you guys know… Did you guys know that when a newborn baby… when a newborn baby is first born, when it’s fresh out of the womb… it can actually hear and see everything around it… for up to ten seconds after it’s decapitated? Yeah. Yeah. I never know what to say. I never know what to say to someone after they’ve lost a baby. What do you say to someone after they’ve lost a baby? “Oh, I’m sorry for your loss”? Doesn’t cut it. “Are you gonna be okay?” Not even close. That’s why I just keep my mouth shut. Let my lawyer do the talking. I’m not good with kids. That’s my point. That’s what this whole thing’s about. I’m not good with kids. Not gonna lie. Hell, a couple of months ago, I dropped my cousin’s baby. Flat-out dropped my cousin’s baby on the ground. But I don’t feel like that was my fault. I don’t feel responsible for that one, you know? Who in their right mind… who the hell in their right mind would ever ask me, Anthony Jeselnik, to be a pallbearer? It’s okay, people hate… people hate dead baby jokes. They hate them. They hate them. It’s like, “Anthony, why do you have to tell dead baby jokes? Why do you have so many dead baby jokes?” “No one likes them, why do you insist?” Well, I’ll tell you why. Because dead baby jokes have made me rich. And who was it? Who was it who said the first million is the hardest? Was it Hitler? Didn’t see that one coming, did you? That was a good response. Most audiences just pretend I didn’t say it. But I like it. I like making Hitler jokes. It’s cool for me. I enjoy it. Hell, I lost my grandfather. I lost my grandfather in the Holocaust Museum. It was the Holocaust Museum of Modern Art. Which is just like a normal Holocaust museum, except you walk around all day being like, “Oh! I should have thought of that.” My grandmother died about a year ago. And I didn’t think anything could ever be worse than when my grandmother passed away. But I was wrong. It was fine. The hard part, the upsetting part… was that we thought she died in the way that she wanted. She wanted to die in the best way possible, like uh… You, radio winner. What’s the best way you can die? This is not a trick question. – In your sleep? – Yes, thank you. Thank you, everybody wants to die peacefully in their sleep. Not me. I want to be alert, awake, surrounded by friends, in a house fire. But my grandmother wanted to go peacefully in her sleep. We thought that’s how she went. We were all excited for her. But then we did an autopsy. Found out she actually died horribly, in the worst way possible. During an autopsy. It was fucked up. Yeah. Yeah. She always said her grandkids didn’t pay enough attention to her and… and she was right. She was dead on. But I loved my grandma. Loved her very much. My grandma taught me about a lot. Taught me what religion is. Taught me everything you can know about religion, in one quick story. I’ll tell you now. When I graduated from high school… When I graduated, my grandma came to me, gave me a big hug, said, “Anthony, I’m so proud of you. You’re my first grandchild to get to go to college. What can I do for you, what can I give you before you go to college?” And I said, “Honestly, Grandma, all I need from you is money.” Yeah, I know you guys have never been, but college is expensive. And my grandma said, “Okay, Anthony, I understand.” Couple months go by. It’s the end of summer. I’m packing up my dad’s car, getting ready to go to school, and my grandma walks up. Says, “Anthony, here, before you leave, take this.” And she handed me a brand-new Bible. King James Version. And I said, “Thanks, Grandma, that’s exactly what we talked about.” I got in the car and I went off to school. Couple of weeks go by, I’m hanging out in my dorm room, having a good time, when the phone rings. It’s my grandma. “Anthony, just calling to see how college is going.” “Grandma, college is the best. I’m having the time of my life. But to be honest, I’m starting to run low on money, and I could use a little bit, like we talked about.” She said, “Okay, well let me ask you this: Have you been reading your Bible?” And I said, “Totally, Grandma, I’m on chapter four.” She said, “Okay, Anthony, I guess I’ll talk to you later.” Hung up the phone. Couple of months go by. Now I’m really starting to struggle financially. Might have to drop out of school, so I call my grandma in a panic. I say, “Please, it’s Anthony. I’m having the time of my life in college. But if I wanna graduate, and I do, I need you to send me some money like we talked about.” She said, “Anthony, let me ask you this: Have you been reading your Bible?” And I said, “Yes, Grandma! I wish it was longer!” And she said, “Okay, Anthony. I guess I’ll talk to you later.” Finally, it’s the end of the school year. I’ve got straight A’s, but I’m dropping out of college, ’cause I have no more money left. And I’m furious, close to tears, cleaning out my dorm room, when the phone rings. It’s my grandma. “Anthony, I heard you’re dropping out of school today. How come?” And I said, “You know goddamn well how come, Grandma! ‘Cause you wouldn’t give me any money.” She said, “Anthony, let me ask you this: Did you read your Bible?” And I just hung up the phone. I was so pissed off. Took everything out of that room. Last thing I took off the shelf, the last thing I took out of that room, was that Bible my grandma had given me. Took it off the shelf, held it in my hands, and for the first time, I actually opened it up. And on the very first page, in my grandmother’s handwriting, it said, “Fuck you.” Thank you everyone. I hope you enjoyed the jokes I prepared for you tonight. And all the jokes I write, they’re all made up, they’re all fake, except for Eric Clapton and the Challenger. Everything else… everything else is fake. But everything I’m about to tell you, from here until the end of the show, that’s all true. Now… I don’t tell dark jokes because I’m a comedian. I’m a comedian because I tell dark jokes. I’m kind of fucked up, all right? I’ve always been this way. I can’t really help myself. It gets me into trouble a lot. I lose friends. It’s ruined relationships with people in my family. For instance, my grandmother actually did pass away, about six months ago. I did love her very much. She was a big fan of mine. And I was asked to speak at her funeral, which was a horrible mistake. Horrible mistake. No one should ever ask me to speak at anyone’s funeral. I asked a friend for advice. Was like, “I’ve never talked to a group of people without getting paid a lot of money. How should I handle this?” “Anthony, just go up there and tell a story. Find one moment about you and your grandma you can share with everybody. And don’t tell a joke. Try not to.” So I walked up and was like, “You know what my favorite memory was? When I was like four years old, before I learned to read, Grandma would curl up with me on the couch, she had this Southern accent, and she would read to me. She would read Mark Twain to me, and I loved it. Like… Mark Twain out of my grandma’s mouth, it would just come to life.” And then I couldn’t help myself. I said, “And I know my grandma loved it too, because it combined her two favorite things: spending time with her grandchildren, and using the ‘N’ word.” Now I promise you… I promise you… until you’ve heard your grandfather gasp at his own wife’s funeral… …at a Methodist Church in Vicksburg, Mississippi… you are not a real comedian. I am a real comedian. I am a pure comedian. I think I’m one of the best comedians of all time. But here’s the thing. It doesn’t matter if you believe me. It really doesn’t matter. The important thing is that I would pass a lie detector test. I like to test myself. I like to test myself by joking about horrible things and nothing but. One of my favorite ways to test myself, I like to joke about tragedies the day that they happen. The day they happen. I don’t believe in too soon. I’m on a tight schedule. And I’m good at it. I’m good at it. Like, the day of… the day of the Aurora, Colorado Batman movie theater shooting. The day it happened, I went online, I went on Twitter, and I tweeted “Other than that, how was the movie?” Right? Right? Nailed it. Nailed it. And the reason I get away with that… the reason I get away with stuff like that is I’m just the guy who does it. People are used to it from me. It would be weird if I didn’t make a joke the day of a tragedy. Which is why I was very surprised when I got in a lot of trouble the day of the Boston Marathon. Now, I don’t follow the news regularly. But I know the second a tragedy happens because I get 25 text messages saying, “Don’t do it.” And whenever I see that… whenever I see that, it makes me sad. It makes me sad ’cause I know something horrible has happened. People will say, “Anthony, what’s funny about Aurora? What’s funny about the Boston Marathon? What’s funny about your grandmother’s funeral?” Nothing! Nothing is funny about those things. That’s where I come in. So I see these texts and I’m like, “Oh, no, what happened?” But I also think, “I’ve got a job to do.” So I go online, I start reading about it. I don’t want to watch the footage. But I’ll read about what happened. And I think, “How can I make someone laugh today?” And then I think, “I got it.” I go back on Twitter. And I tweet, “Guys, today, there are just some lines that should not be crossed.” “Especially the finish line.” And again, I think, “Nailed it. U.S.A.! U.S.A.!” But then my phone starts to ring. And it’s my boss. Or should I say my former boss. And they say, “Anthony, this is unacceptable. You are not just a comedian today. You’re also the host of your own TV show, with your name in the title, on our network. You take this joke down right now or you’re fired.” And I say, “Go fuck yourselves.” And I meant it. I didn’t get into comedy for money or fame. I know that sounds wrong, because I’m dripping with both. I only got into this business so that no one could tell me what to do. And they said… Sure. They said, “Well, Anthony, you don’t understand. You don’t understand at all. If you don’t take this joke down right now, if you don’t delete this joke right now, not only are you fired, but the entire cast and crew of your television show, about a hundred people, they’re also out of a job.” And I’m ashamed to tell you this. I’m embarrassed to admit it. But in that moment, I folded, and I deleted the joke. ‘Cause I’m happy to fight for what I believe in. I’m happy to take the consequences for what I’ve done. But what I could not do, cannot do, is walk up to my cameraman and say, “Hey, buddy, no work for you on Monday. I had this sweet tweet.” Couldn’t do it. But as soon as I hit delete, I got mad and I regretted it. I would fire every single one of those fucking assholes now, I’ll tell ya that. And I got mad for betraying myself and everything I believe in. I’m just as mad today as I was then. Just as mad. So mad, I had to have a meeting with the network, where they called me in for a little lecture. They’re like, “Anthony, we’re family. Why are you so upset? Can’t you see we did you a favor? Don’t you worry about your career?” Let me ask you, San Francisco, do I seem like I worry about my career? No. You know why people who win the lottery always end up going bankrupt? Because if they’re worried about their money, they wouldn’t have played the lottery in the first fuckin’ place. I do not worry about my career. And they said, “Anthony, the problem is when you make a joke on Twitter the day of a tragedy, it seems like you’re making fun of the victims, and that’s wrong.” But that’s not what I’m doing. Because, you see, the day of a tragedy, victims are not on Twitter. Am I wrong? Tell me I’m wrong. The day of a tragedy, victims have got victim shit to do. No one is ever… No one is ever putting on a tourniquet, asking, “Hey, are we trending?” No. This is who I’m making fun of when I make a joke on Twitter the day of a tragedy. The people who see something horrible happen in the world and they run to the Internet. And they run to their social media, Facebook, Twitter, whatever they got. And they all write down the exact same thing: “My thoughts and prayers…” “My thoughts and prayers with the people in Aurora.” “My thoughts and prayers with the families in Boston.” Do you know what that’s worth? Fucking nothing. Fucking less than nothing. Less than nothing. You are not giving any of your time, your money or even your compassion. All you are doing, all you are doing, is saying, “Don’t forget about me today.” “Don’t forget about me.” “Lots of crazy distractions in the news, but don’t forget how sads I am.” Those people are worthless and they deserve to be made fun of. They’re like a wedding photographer who only takes selfies. You understand? Now I’m sure everyone here has told a joke before where nobody laughed at it. It’s fine. It’s embarrassing, but it’s fun. You can laugh at yourself. It’s not a reason to stop telling jokes. Maybe some of you have told a joke before where someone got mad at you for it. Trust me, that’s fun too. You guys ever tell a joke and then get death threats? Well, I guess that’s what makes me me. On my television show, I once did a segment that aired once and only once, before it was banned, called “Shark Party.” All right? Now… Some of you enjoyed it, but if you’ve never seen “Shark Party,” you can never see “Shark Party.” It’s been wiped off the face of the earth by the powers that be, so I will explain it to you. I love sharks. I love sharks more than anything. People… People I can barely fucking tolerate. Every single year, 100 million sharks are killed by human beings. Every year, 20, 25 people killed by sharks? So when I hear about a shark attack, I’m like, “Fuck, yeah.” Win one for the home team. So as soon as I get this show where I can do what I want, I say, “You know what? I want to have a shark party. As soon as there’s a shark attack, we’re having a shark party.” And I get lucky. About a month into my run, this guy from New Zealand gets eaten by a great white, the champagne of sharks. And I know exactly what to do. I’ve already got the script written. I walk on stage, in front of the cameras. I say, “Ladies and gentlemen, this guy from New Zealand has been eaten by a great white shark. It’s time for a shark party.” Lights go down, music comes up. Six women wearing shark dresses come out on either side of me, and we all start dancing. For way too long. A stripper wearing a giant shark head runs out and gives me a lap dance. Very tasteful. And then I stand up and we show a giant picture of the guy who got eaten. Which, in retrospect, is where it all went wrong. But I get to say my favorite thing I’ve ever said on television: “Smile, you son of a bitch. Shark party.” And in America, where I’m famous for those types of shenanigans… everybody was like, “Anthony, that was fucked up.” “It was fucked up to see you dance.” End of controversy. However, in New Zealand, where they don’t get my show, they’ve never seen me, and frankly, they don’t get out much… the New Zealand media takes the video… and they show it to the guy’s family. And they say, “What do you guys think about this?” And they say, “Crikey,” or whatever the fuck they say over there. The point is, all of New Zealand, all of New Zealand rises up against me. All 45 of those cunts rise up. And start threatening my life. Now, I don’t read the things that people write about me on the Internet. But I pay people who do. And they come to me, and they’re like, “We’ve got some terrible news. Please sit down.” They say, “You are getting a lot of death threats online from New Zealand because of ‘Shark Party.'” And I was like, “Really? New Zealand wants to kill me? That’s weird because they didn’t even kill the shark.” I said, “How many death threats am I getting?” And they were like “Oh, all of them. You are getting all of the death threats. What do you want us to do? We can send someone to talk to them. Extra security? What do you want?” I said, “No, forget about it. Leave it alone, don’t worry.” This might be hard for some to understand. I’ve said it several times tonight. Everyone is going to die. I know full well I am going to die. And most of us don’t get to choose how we check out. But if I die because someone murders me over one of my jokes? Best case scenario. If somebody murders me over one of my jokes, I immediately become a legend. I’m a comedy God. The Mount Rushmore of comedy is me, four times. I said, “Come on then.” My security guys are like, “Okay, Anthony, well, just so you know, that is the dumbest thing we’ve ever heard.” “But you’re the boss. Okay.” And they leave. And then the next day they come back. And they say “Anthony, sorry to bother you again. I know you didn’t care yesterday, but it’s gotten much worse. You’re gonna wanna hear this.” They say, “Someone from New Zealand tracked down your mom and dad’s phone number and address in Pittsburgh, posted that online… and now your entire family is getting death threats from New Zealand.” And I have to admit, that had never occurred to me before. It never crossed my mind… that my family, my loved ones, would ever pay the price, be caught in harm’s way, for something I’ve done or I’ve joked about. And honestly, I would cut my throat for my jokes. I would give my life for what I do. But if anyone, and I mean this for a fact, if anyone ever hurt my family or killed someone I cared about because of a joke I’ve made? Even better."
Bill Burr,"[cheers and applause] All right, thank you! Thank you very much! Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. How are you? What’s going on? Thank you. It’s a pleasure to be here in the greater Atlanta, Georgia, area, this oasis. It’s nice to be here. I don’t know why I came here in June. It’s nice to be here. Wasn’t thinking. Fucking ridiculously hot out there. Just miserable, horrible. That kind of heat, you understand the racism down here, ya know? I get it. How would you get along with anybody? “Look at ’em just over there, drinkin’ a cold drink! Lemonade was made for the white man!” So… What the hell have I been doing with my life? Trying to get in shape, man. But I hate going to the gym, so I decided I’d go veggie twice a week. It’s brutal. I can only make it till about 5:00. Five o’clock, that’s what I realized about myself, you know that? Something has to die every day in order for me to live. Something’s got to get its beak chopped off, its feathers yanked, uppercut to its jaw, just in order for me to survive. I’m trying! Couscous and all that shit. It’s awful. I saw this thing, though. They said if everybody went vegan, if everybody went vegan or vegetarian, whatever the hell they said. One of those “V” ones, right? They said it’ll be great for the environment, you know. I guess there’s all this cattle standing around, and when they fart, the gas goes up in the atmosphere and causes something. Right? They’re always doing that shit. You know, “If everybody went vegan, the air would be– If everybody drove an electric car, if everybody just had some snowshoes on.” Right? They just won’t come out and say it. Nobody has the balls to come out and just say, “Look, 85% of you have to go.” – That’s it! That is it. – [cheering and applause] I have been bitching about the population problem for three specials in a row. Waiting… for some politician to have the balls to bring it up, but they won’t do it, they won’t do it. We live in a democracy. Right? Can’t be honest in a democracy. You need the votes. You can’t run with that as your platform. Coming out there: “And if elected, I would implement a program to immediately eliminate at least 85% of you! This planet cannot sustain the sheer numbers– Let me finish! This will not be arbitrary. Under your seats is a multiple choice questionnaire! If you did not bring a pencil, you’re already out!” You can’t do that. You got to be nice. You got to be fuckin’ nice, especially this day and age. Everybody getting in trouble, all these goddamn groups out there, bitch, moaning and complaining anytime anybody says anything. “We’re part of a group, eh.” You gotta apologize. “I’m sorry to people who own Shar Peis. I didn’t mean to say that it’s an ugly-ass dog, nah.” Right? Fuck you and your group. What about that? What do you got, two million people in your group? There’s 400 million in this country. Nobody gives a shit. Right? Who the fuck joins a group? “I’m gonna join a group, that’s what I’m gonna do today.” Go to meetings. What kind of a fucking loser, right? That’s the same way I look at people who got upset about, you know, Michael Sam, the gay football player kissing his boyfriend when he got drafted. Everybody bitch, moaning and complaining. It’s like, dude, that’s what you get for watching the draft, all right? Now once again, what kind of a fucking loser just sits there watching round after round? “The Jets are up next. I think they need a quarterback. They need to improve their defensive line.” Dude, that’s like going to a graduation ceremony where you don’t know anybody who’s graduating. You’re just fucking sitting there. They’re gonna have the whole list the next day. They’ll have everybody. Who drafted who, when. Fucking got to sit there and watch that shit. Those stupid interviews. “Yeah, you’re a member of the Buffalo Bills. How does it feel?” “Well, you know, it’s a blessing. I want to thank God. Gonna try to do my best, it’s a great organization, and the same shit the last 80 guys said. So, yeah.” Yeah. I’m glad he kissed him. He should have fuckin’ blown him. Yeah! With birthday cake in his mouth and a Santa Claus hat on his head, just to ruin the entire year. Holding a flag. That fucks up Flag Day. You’ll keep thinking about it. Yeah. Fucking stupid-ass groups. People apologizing to ’em like they have some sort of power. Look, if you’re being a dick, apologize. But other than that, yeah, go fuck yourself. Yeah. [cheers and applause] Everybody getting in trouble, like a bunch of children. I was doing a gig in Dallas, and some waitress wrote on a piece of chalkboard. She goes, “We like our beer the way we like our violence, domestic.” Right? Now I got to tell you something. That’s a great fucking joke! There is zero fat on that. You need every word of that joke. You take one word out, it doesn’t work. It’s a perfect joke. So whatever, nobody gives a shit. One person comes in, they don’t like it, they ask the manager to take it down. He’s just like, “That’s our sense of humor here. Have a beer, go fuck yourself. That’s what we’re doing.” She takes a picture of it, puts it on Facebook. All of a sudden, people start complaining. They fired the manager and the waitress. Because of that. Yeah! I don’t understand, like, what do they think is gonna happen if somebody reads that joke? Like, you’re some guy who would never hit a woman, ya know. Would never hit a woman. You can’t hit women. You honestly cannot. You ever see how they fall? They fall like toddlers, you know? It’s like they never fell in their life. They never put their hands out. It’s horrific to watch. You can’t hit them. Right? So what are you telling me? Somebody… you’re telling me someone who never hit a woman is gonna come walking in, read that joke, you know, just be, “Wait a minute!” [shouts angrily] That’s the dumbest shit. They have all kinds of signs out there telling people not to hit women, people still do it. What do you think wife beaters are doing when they drive home? They’re like so focused on hitting their wife, they got blinders on, they’re not reading anything? They don’t see the “Don’t Hit Your Wife” billboard? They’re still gonna do it. Did that get too weird for you guys? Did the church organs make that fucked up like I was up here? “Make a pledge for Jesus and hit your women.” Ever watch some of those stupid religious shows? That fucking Joel Osteen, you ever see that guy? That guy is so full of shit, he doesn’t even open his eyes when he’s talking. “Take a pledge for Jesus. Are they still here?” He doesn’t even have the nerve to open his eyes. “You want some popsicles? Jesus wants you to have some popsicles. He wants you to have those popsicles.” His fucking electric blue carpet. Yeah, everybody’s getting in trouble ’cause of these goddamn groups. Look at the amount of old people that got in trouble this year. Old people get in trouble, right? That older woman there that makes the cookies on the Food Network, right? Yeah, Paula Deen. She got in trouble, ’cause she had this slavery-themed wedding or whatever the hell she did. In defense of her, you know, you want to have an original wedding. There’s not a lot of themes left, you know? You got to use the old imagination if you’re gonna try to blow people away with your creativity, right? I’m actually gonna have a Holocaust- themed pool party later on this summer. I am. “Once everyone gets in ze pool, ja.” “It was weird, it was like it was offensive but like refreshing, you know? I don’t know, I don’t know how I feel about it.” Yeah, she got in trouble. The old redneck on Duck Dynasty, that dude got in trouble. The owner of the Clippers got in trouble. And I’m not saying what these people did wasn’t offensive. I’m not sayin’ that shit. What pissed me off was at no point during all of these stories did anybody address their age, you know? They’re fucking old, you know? What did you think they thought? You never talked to a grandparent and asked the wrong question and all of a sudden, it went down this crazy road? “Whoa, whoa, whoa! Let’s get back to the cookies, Grandma! Let’s leave that shit over here, what the fuck?” Yeah, they’re old. What did you think they thought? I mean– I’m gonna be honest with you. People were too hard on that Clippers guy, man, I’m telling you. For an 80-year-old white guy, that wasn’t that bad. All right? Dude, he didn’t drop the “N” word once. That’s unbelievable for an 80-year-old white guy. The “N” word should have been carpet-bombed through that whole tape. He never said it once! If you go back and listen to that tape– go back and listen to it. Other than Instagram, he’s pretty fucking liberal. He’s like, “You can hang out with them, you can have sex with them, just don’t promote it on Instagram.” Yeah, it was the weirdest, most compartmentalized, like, racism I ever heard in my life. Something about Instagram, I didn’t get it. Other than that, he was wide open. “You can make a snowman with them, go to a water park, rub your bellies together, just don’t promote it on Instagram.” “Hey, what about Facebook?” “I don’t give a fuck about Facebook! Keep it off of Instagram!” Yeah. Dude, you understand, the guy is 80 years old. Do the math. This dude was born in 1934. That’s 13 years before Jackie Robinson broke the color barrier. First 12 and a half years of this guy’s life, he watched all-white baseball, and it was fine! First 12 and a half years. “Up next, Whitey Willoughby! There’s a line shot out to Peter Peckerwood, what a catch! Unbelievable, in to Chris Cracker! What a great day. What a great day for a ballgame. White baseball, white players.” Dude, his parents were part of the generation that finished off the genocide of the Native Americans, all right? That’s who taught him his ABCs. You know? “~ A, B, C, D, E… ~ Hey, get that savage off my property! Get out of here! I thought we killed all you people! Put a fence around them! ~ H, I, J, K… ~” Yeah. What did you think was gonna happen? The owner of the Clippers, you know what his big crime was? He lived too long. He did. If he’d died around 1969, 1970, nobody would have noticed. Dude, look at Walt Disney, Walt Disney was a known anti-Semite. But he died in the early ’70s. Nobody gives a shit. Look at him, he’s got a castle, bunch of mice running around. Nobody cares. This guy kept living. Telling you, you can live too long. You can live too long, I’m telling you. You wear out your welcome. I swear to God, this fucking guy, I bet in the 1940’s, he was considered a hippie. You know? Just walking around, “Hey, you can hang out with ’em, you can have sex with ’em, man, you know?” His dad’s getting all pissed off: “Let me tell you something, see? You stay with your own! You stay with your own.” That’s true, though. Life can pass you by. It happens. You just keep living and living. Basically, I think you got, like, 25, 30 years to absorb as much as you can, and then that’s it, that’s all you know. ‘Cause right around then, you get married, and it’s over, right? You have a couple of kids, you’re sucked in the bubble. You don’t have time to pay attention to what’s going on out in the world. You’re stuck with these kids. “It’s shitting all over the place! Don’t be a serial killer! Don’t touch that!” You’re just stuck in that. You have three, four kids, that is a 25-year sentence, trying to get them all through college. Society just keeps fucking going. You get the last one through college, step back out of the bubble– You don’t know what happened. You’re not even paying attention. You go back to your old record collection. [scatting] Someone sticks a mike in your face, you’re gonna get in trouble. Yeah. It’s one of the sad things about life. You get old and it passes you by. I feel it passing me by. I’m 46 years old. I don’t even have kids, but I can’t keep up anymore. I had a college gig coming up, I was like, I gotta figure out what these kids are into. I was 24 when a senior was born. I got to figure out what these dudes are into, so I guess they’re into like, this like DJ music or some shit, so I’m like, all right, I’ll watch some of this. You know? So I have like a reference or two. I don’t want to be that old comic coming to the gig being like, “What’s up with this Monica Lewinsky? Is this crazy? I mean, this Y2K– Is my stylus gonna work? I don’t know.” So I put this shit on. Dude, I lasted 90 seconds. Ninety seconds. I was open-minded. “All right, put it on!” Ninety seconds later, I’m like this old man. “Ah, this isn’t music!” You know? “When I was a kid, you dressed like a woman and you sung about the devil. Now, that was music! And you had one ballad every album, started off in black and white and when the guitar solo came in, it went to color. Yeah, that was music.” Yeah. All of this shit’s passing me by. I’ll get in trouble later on in my life. Transgender athletes? I don’t fucking understand that, you know? I understand, you want to switch around, I don’t give a shit, but I’m a sports fan. That’s a really new concept to me, that you can be a dude, right? Ranked 80th in the fucking world. You have your dick cut off, you put on a sports bra, and now you’re the #1 tennis player in the world, just coming out there with your man shoulders. [grunting] That doesn’t seem fair. I might be wrong. I might just be an old guy, I have no idea. But I’m hearing rumors like some of them are getting into that MMA. You can’t have that shit. Am I nuts? That is a dickless dude beating the shit out of a woman. Jesus Christ! He might as well hit her with his discarded dick like a flashlight. “Hold still!” “Her ground and pound is incredible.” Yeah. I’m not saying these people are right, and I’m not saying that I’m right. I know I’m a fucking moron, ya know. But that Duck Dynasty guy– I know what he said was wrong, but I don’t get the shock. Said that homophobic stuff, and people are like, “Can you believe?” Yeah, I totally can believe it. If I was in Vegas, I would have put 90% of my shit on that he was gonna say it. I’d give him a 10% benefit of the doubt just in case. Are you seriously shocked some redneck with a beard down to his dick sitting in a boat in the middle of a swamp shooting varmints? Like, what did you think he thought? Did you think he had some progressive ideas on same-sex marriage? [cheers and applause] Yeah. Didn’t he think… Didn’t he think exactly what you thought… he thought, you know? You know what kills me too? That fuckin’ kinda shit, that homophobic stuff, that all comes from the church, man. Doesn’t it come from that shit? There’s something in there. I never read the Book, all right? I tried to. They need to fucking update it. They update iTunes every fuckin’ six days. Can we update the language and make it a little more user friendlieth… for someone like me? Right? That’s where he gets all those fucking ideas. That Duck Dynasty guy, it’s not his fault that he went to– He went to Sunday School in like 1949, you know? I think all of that shit comes from the church. They just fuckin’ brainwash you. You know? Don’t clap, don’t clap, I don’t read, I don’t read. Follow someone else. I’m telling you, they brainwash you. Come into the church, your brain’s all empty, they fill it like a jelly donut. [making squishing sounds] Just brainwash you. “~ Say what we say when we say it ~ ~ Say it again, then you can go home to your toys ~” “~ All right, I’ll say it ~ ~ I’ll say it again ~ ~ Now can I go home to my toys? ~” Right? And you repeat everything they say. The good, the bad, and the fucking horrific. They stick a star on your forehead. “You’re a big boy.” “Looks like people like me!” You get on with your life. You go to college, you get a master’s degree in English like this redneck dude had, he invents the new duck whistle or whatever the hell you call it, right. Yours goes, “Whack whack!” Mine goes, “Whack-a-fuckin’-whack!” Dude makes a zillion bucks, gets his own TV show, he’s loving life. And out of nowhere, here comes that same question sixty years later from Sunday School, and he stands up like the Manchurian Candidate. “Jesus liked hookers and lepers, doesn’t like the queers.” And everybody freaks the fuck out, and he’s like, “That’s what they said!” And they’re all dead. “Oh, where’d everybody go? I thought I was a good boy!” He’s just this scared old man getting yelled at in a boat. I don’t understand. I don’t understand why a group like GLAAD, right? I always forget, it’s Gay Lesbian A… whatever the fuck it stands for, all right? Why do they go after the old guy in the boat? Why don’t they go after the people writing the Book? Right? “Hey, could you please teareth outeth those coupleth of pages?” They’re not gonna do that. That’s the Vatican. They’re their own city. They got a wall around their own city. They’re brushing off cases of pedophilia like it’s nothing. They’re not taking that call. “Oh, what happened? Really? Go fuck yourself.” Click. They don’t care. [applause] I learned a long time ago, I think whatever you’re into, you’re into, but I’m not into that religious stuff where– And this is why. I actually walked away from my religion. I had to be honest with myself. One, I didn’t like to go– I didn’t like going to church every week, you know? I just didn’t. Part of it was I’m lazy. I don’t like getting up on Sundays, and the other part was I already heard all the stories, okay? Heard them three, four times, the Dude hasn’t come back yet. You know, we’re just sort of mulching over the same shit here, I got it. – Right? – [cheers and applause] And the other aspect was, you know, I actually– I had to be honest with myself. I felt my religion made sense and everybody else’s sounded stupid. [cackles] I did. Look, I’m not talking about the basis of every religion. Basis of every religion makes sense, you know, the Ten Commandments. Don’t kill anybody. Don’t touch my wife. That’s my bike. Right? That all makes sense. Of which, I’ve broken, I think I’ve broken just about every commandment except for the fifth one, that’s it. I haven’t killed anybody yet, right? But the murderous thoughts that I have sometimes, I think I could do it. Like when someone gets on a plane and they kick off their loafers, and they’re wearing those gold-toed, like, dress socks, and they cross their feet at the ankles, and they just start rubbing their feet together. Like, I see the whole thing, see the whole thing. Wrapping that sock. Shh… Shh… Shh… Right? See the whole thing, so we’ll see. Still early on, right? But just the stories of how we got here, and where we’re going, and what happens after we die, everybody else’s religion sounded stupid, you know? Like, I live out in Los Angeles, there’s a bunch of Scientologists out there, and the first time I heard the story of Scientology, I was like, “That is the dumbest shit I have ever heard in my life.” [man] Yeah! Like, your guy’s name is Ron? Ron! And he wasn’t alive thousands of years ago, so you can hide a lot of it in the mystery. This guy was alive, like, 45, 50 years ago. He had a driver’s license, Social Security number. There’s like footage of him stubbing his toe. “Motherfucker!” Right? I know what happened. He was working at Denny’s, he got sick of it. “I’ll start a religion. Hey, everybody, there’s this spaceship coming back. Everybody’s getting sneakers. This is Tom Cruise. We’re gonna try to make you clear, right?” Look, I’m paraphrasing, I’m paraphrasing. To be fair to the Scientologists, I am paraphrasing, but that’s essentially what they believe in. And I said that is the dumbest shit I ever heard while simultaneously still kind of believing that a woman who never got fucked had a baby that walked on water, died, and came back three days later. So… Yeah. That made total sense to me. So it just hit me one day, I was like, why does that make sense and that shit doesn’t, you know? They got a spaceship in theirs, you know? We– right? We got the space shuttle, you know? There’s sneakers. There’s a lot of shit I can relate to in this. Why does that sound so dumb to me? You know what it is? I think it’s ’cause I heard their story when I was an adult. I heard my story when I was four years old, right? When I heard my story, there was still some fat fuck coming down the chimney, giving me Christmas toys. If I lost a tooth, there was a fairy. There was the Easter Bunny. Why wouldn’t there be some bearded baby moonwalking across the lake? Throwing out bottomless buckets of shrimp or whatever He did? Of course that made sense. What happened was, as I got older, all of that stuff started to fall, right? “Ah, son, there is no fat fuck, it’s your mother and I. Your mom’s the Tooth Fairy, rabbits don’t have eggs, her tits are fake, the NBA is fixed! Bankers are cunts! Most of your dreams won’t come true!” Right? And I was just like, “Wow, this is how the world is.” And meanwhile this shit was just floating, this 800-pound gorilla of this fucking story. I just had to make a decision, what am I gonna do? What am I gonna do with this? Am I gonna cling to it, be that person? “That’s very offensive to me and other Christians and…” Become that douche? All right? And be like the casual Christian, right, with, like, one foot on base, just, “Yeah, I kind of go, a couple of times a year, and, like, if my parents come to town, I act like I go all the time, and I don’t go anymore.” Or my last option, which was basically just, just let go of the shit, you know? Just let go. [cheers and applause] Just let go of it like that creepy moment in curling. You know. That moment where the shooter, or whatever you call them, is just sliding with that rock, right? Just let me do this right, just sliding. And you think he’s along for the ride, the two of them, they’re a team, and all of a sudden out of nowhere he just goes fucking… That rock just keeps going, this dude just stops. That’s what I did with my religion. I just let go of it. I didn’t read a riot act to anybody, I just let go of it. “And on the third day, He rose again in fulfillment of the Scriptures…” I just floated away. [cheers and applause] So now it’s like, I’m in this weird place where I’m not in any religion right now. Unrestricted free agent. You know? [cackles] I’d like to believe in something, so I’ve been going around asking people what their shit is, and I haven’t been able to find anything. Trying to be open-minded. I was doing a gig in Helsinki, and over there, they’re, like, Lutheran, and what they believe, they believe when you die, you’re dead and that’s it. Dead, like a pigeon, just– just layin’ there. Over. Blew my mind, I’m like, “Really? You’re just dead?” Like my religion was you die, and then you go up to get judged, right? God pops in the DVD of your life. “Well, I don’t know about this right here. Mind explaining yourself?” This might be the most arrogant thing I say all night, but I actually resent the fact that I’m gonna get judged someday. Like, if that’s true, that somebody’s gonna judge me, that doesn’t even make any sense. It’s like, Dude, you made me, so this is your fuck-up. All right? Let’s not try to turn this around on me. You know? Jesus Christ. You give me freedom of choice, you make whores, you have me suck at math, and you don’t think this thing’s gonna go off the rails? Like, you set me up to fail, and now you got the balls to now question… your own goddamn work. Dude, if I made a car, if I built a car and it didn’t run, I wouldn’t burn it forever. “You evil piece of shit!” Just light it on fire. I wouldn’t, I would troubleshoot. Is there gas in the engine? Is the battery charged? “Anything beyond this, I got to get a real man to look at it, but I believe in you. I’m gonna try and help you out.” Yes, my religion, it’s nuts. It’s fucking nuts. Like, my religion, like, the way I was brought up is like, you know, you can make it to heaven but, like, some of your family members possibly couldn’t, or some of your friends. Doesn’t even make sense. Like how am I supposed to enjoy heaven if that’s the deal, right? Just sitting here, waiting for my friends to show up, “Jesus Christ, where the hell are they? It’s been, like, 150 years! They must have ate a lot of Brussels sprouts or some shit! Doing some yoga, right?” And then one day, it just settles in that they didn’t make it. And then what, I’m still gonna enjoy heaven, right? Jesus coming walking over: “Hey, how is it going, everybody? Isn’t this great? Isn’t this great?” “Yeah, Dude, it’d be even better if all my family members and friends weren’t burning for fucking ever! Kind of hard to enjoy heaven when you just keep thinking of that there, J-star, what do you think? Hey, Dude, I didn’t ask you to come over. You came walking over with your big, dumb sandals. ‘Hey, hey, how is it going over here?’ Why did you come over here? I don’t give a damn. Dude, tell your dad. I don’t give a fuck! I’m already in here, I’m already in here. What, are you gonna kick me out afterwards? Go fuck yourself. I knew He was gonna be like that, I knew it. The boss’s son is the worst. Fucking sense of entitlement.” So yeah, so they believe when you die, you’re dead. And I was like, so you’re just dead. Like, how do you wrap your head around not existing? I couldn’t get my head around it. He goes, “Well, like before, when you were born, do you remember that?” And I was like, “No,” and the guy’s like, “Yeah, it’s just like that.” I’m like, not only does that make sense, that is absolutely terrifying. Dude, I got to be honest, I hate how scared I’m getting as I get older. I’m developing all these new fears. Like, I have a fear of flying now. I never had a fear of it. It’s not straight-across-the-board flying. I don’t like small planes all of a sudden. I just don’t like them, and it has nothing to do with the plane. I believe in the planes, okay? I just don’t believe in the pilots. ‘Cause you know what? I don’t think the airline does, either. Which is why that dude is flying that little plane. The airline was basically, like, “All right, we’ll give you, like, 28 people. See how you do, you know? You fly them up, you land, you bring another 28 back. We’ll let you do this for a while. You do this for a while, we don’t get any complaints, no up and down, up and down, none of that shit, we’ll move you up to 35 people. And then one day, you’ll be in a jet–” Whoo! We’re going a little faster. Right? Big planes, you’re getting the fuckin’ pilot that knows what he’s doing. He’s probably fought in a war. He’s used to getting shot at. He can’t bring this bus in? It’s a joke. Right? A bunch of people whining in the back, “My headphones don’t work!” He doesn’t give a fuck, right? He’s up there sleeping. He’s trying to make something happen, he’s so goddamn bored. That’s a stud up there, right? So one time I’m flying into Albany, New York, okay, a city that nobody really goes to. So I’m on a smaller plane, and everything is going great. All of a sudden, out of nowhere, we hit this turbulence. [imitating sounds of turbulence] And it stops, and everybody looks around laughing nervously, like… [nervous laughter] All of a sudden, it comes back with a vengeance. You can literally hear the metal the plane’s made of, like… All of a sudden, this dude three rows back starts making these bitchy noises. “Whoa! Whaaa! Whoa! Whaaaa! Whoa!” I’m not gonna lie, I have never been so fucking scared in my entire life. Dude, that noise is acceptable out of a female or a child. But turn around and see a 37-year-old mustachioed male going… “Whoo! Whaaa! Whoa!” Dude, the hair was standing up on my arms. I’m praying to a higher power, I don’t even believe in the shit! I just wish I had the balls to turn around and be like, “Dude, would you shut the fuck up? Jesus Christ, be a man, push it down. Push it down, deny your feelings, act like you have answers. Do some man shit right now. Do some man shit.” Jesus Christ. You know? “You think I’m not up here thinking… ‘Whaaa! Whoa!’ I am! But how does that help us for me to join you and turn this fuselage into a haunted house?” You know what kills me, what absolutely kills me, is some woman is gonna fall in love with this guy, marry him and make half… whooo… whaaaa… fucking kids. And you know what? We become weaker as a species. We do. [cheers and applause] Do you remember back in the day when you watched the Discovery Channel about animals? Now they build cars, but it used to be about animals, right? Now it’s all car stuff. “Looking forward to getting that carburetor today. The carburetor didn’t fit.” “What do you mean the carburetor doesn’t fit? Dad’s gonna be mad.” [yelling gibberish] There’s never enough time to build the car. It’s so fucking stupid. “We got to have this bus done by Thursday!” Or else what? The guy doesn’t want it anymore? All right. “You’ll get the thing when we finish it, okay? This is a safety issue. You want brakes on it? Then go get yourself some fucking lunch.” So, before… [laughter] before there used to just be animals, and this is what I noticed: Everything from a lion all the way down to an insect, okay? If you had one drop of… whoo… whaaa… bitchy blood in you, none of the females would fuck you. That was it, your life was over. Your life was over. No ant pussy for you your entire miserable eight-day ant life, ’cause all six of your legs shook when the wind blew, and the female ant saw it. They’re like, “All right, stay away from that one. Stay away from that one. He’s gonna jeopardize the whole hill. And, Stacy, listen to me.” Human beings have empathy. Some woman will fall in love. “Well, he’s nice. He wears a sweater. He likes to bake, you know? He lets me finish my stories.” Which is all great qualities, okay, but you got to know, when you shack up with a guy like that, you’re rolling the dice. You’re rolling the dice that that fucking axe murderer is gonna pick the next house over, ’cause God forbid he picks your goddamn house, this is the dude who has your back, who’s gonna be screaming louder and higher than you when this guy comes through the fucking door. And you’re gonna turn around. All you’re gonna see is his cowardly feet going out the kitchen window. I don’t know, man, that’s risky. You know, in reality, I’m being too hard on that guy. Yeah, I am. I am, ’cause I was just as scared as he was. Except I didn’t scream out like he did, and that’s simple. The simple reason was this dude, he was hugged too much as a child. Having people going, “How was your day? What’s wrong?” And all of that shit, you know? That’s why I came down here. I came out here to tell you guys, you got to stop hugging your children. You are ruining this country. Now you can hug your daughters, you got to do that, you got to do that. Hug those hooker shoes right out of them, let them know that you’re a good man, and to find another man like you. You got to do that. But your son, you can hug them a little bit, but every three, four, you got to fucking knock ’em down, right? “Come on, it didn’t hurt, get up!” I didn’t come from a family, I don’t know about you guys, I didn’t come from a touchy-feely… “Call me when you get there. Mwah, mwah.” None of that shit. First time my mom hugged me, I think, was like, once when I was little, and when I moved out. That was it! And we only hugged ’cause we knew we were supposed to. So we just tried to, like, it was like two parking meters came to life, like, we almost bumped heads. It was horrific. Fucking horrific. To this day, sometimes I drive down the street, and I think about that hug, and it’s just so awful I have to like shout the memory out of my head. I’ll just be driving down the street, just be like… Aaaaah! Anybody else like that? You ever have to shout stuff out of your head? There’s something about me, like, all my regret comes up when I’m in the shower. I don’t know what it is. I think ’cause I’m in the shower, and I have time to think, and I’ll just think of shit I did in third grade where I just made an ass of myself, and I’ll just be in the shower just being like… [screaming] And my wife’s always just like, “Is everything okay in there?” I’ll just be like, “Yeah, yeah, just accidentally turned on the hot water. Turned it on too much.” “Every day?” So… Yeah… I actually asked my mother one time when I finally got out in the world, and I saw how other families interacted, I finally asked her, “How come we never did the hugging thing? How come we didn’t do that stuff?” She was like, “I wanted to hug you kids when you were little, but I was afraid it was gonna make you gay.” And I was like, “You were afraid?” And she goes, “Well, it was your father. That’s what it was. Protecting him like I always do. He was afraid. He said, you don’t know how to raise boys and if you hug them, that’s what’s gonna happen. So in a marriage, there’s compromises.” Yeah, so she basically never hugged us, ’cause my dad said if she did, it was gonna make us gay. And I got to tell you, that was a great thing that my dad did for me. Let me finish before you start blogging, okay? And I end up on a split screen on Good Morning Atlanta. “Comedy, could it go too far? Last night at the Tabernacle–” Sitting there next to some fucking Cheeto-eating blogger. So, yeah, this is the deal. I’m gonna defend my dad here because this is basically what happens when you have a kid. As far as I know. I don’t have any kids. As far as I’d think, if you have a kid, what do you want to do? You want to improve on your childhood, okay? You want to keep the shit that your parents did that worked, and then you want to get rid of the stuff that didn’t work. So that was my dad, as fucked up as that was, that was his improvement on his childhood that he never talks about, the way a veteran doesn’t talk about going to war. So I figure if that was his improvement on his childhood, his childhood just must have been something like, “Don’t change his shitty diaper. Let him figure it out for himself. Get out in the rain, you shitty baby! Hey, let me handle this, lady! Why are you still standing here, you shit toddler?” So he took it from that… and knocked it down to, “Don’t hug him, it’s gonna make him gay.” Right? And then maybe someday I ever have a kid, I’ll whittle it down to like, “He’s not taking drama class, all right? He’s not taking drama class ’cause I said so, lady! Let me handle this!” I won’t fix everything. And that’s not a homophobic thing either, that I wouldn’t send my hypothetical son to drama class. Okay? It isn’t. I would send… I’d let my hypothetical daughter take a drama class. Okay. My son can’t fucking do any of that shit unless I’m sending him to one of those Fame high schools where everybody’s doing it, one of those creative schools. You go to the cafeteria, everybody’s like, ~ Cottage cheese, what is it made of? ~ Then he can do all he wants. Then he can do all the fuck he wants, but there’s no way I’m letting him do that at a public school with those goddamn animals! He’s gonna get the shit kicked out of him! He’s gonna come home with his underwear up his ass, and then I have to be the adult and go down to the principal and be like, “There’s some sort of tomfoolery going on around here!” I don’t want to do that. I want to find the fucking eight-year-old. What is he, this tall? I want to find the kid that did it to my kid, tip him upside down into some sand or a puddle, anywhere where oxygen is going to be an issue, right, and just leave him there. You wait for that one leg to start shaking so you know he’s down to his last breath, and then you turn him upside-right, and you grab him by his throat, you say something horrific. “You ever do that again, I’m gonna beat your mother to death with the family dog.” All right? [applause] Over. So yeah, a lot in my life has changed since I last came through here to Atlanta. I got married. That’s the big thing. Yes, I did. Very happy about that. I’m very happy because it was starting to get weird. It’s like 45 years old. “My girlfriend, yeah, we’re gonna go out and get some pop.” Going to parties, it was just weird. ‘Cause I hang out with people my age, and they all got married, they all had kids. I just couldn’t contribute when people were standing around talking about marriage… marriages and kids. I felt like a little kid, just sitting there going like, “The superintendent of the mayoral candidate will be bicoastal, bipartisan, with the Middle Eastern crisis, it’s just…” “It’s an advanced learning program. The deadline is May 11th. We have to stop the bullying…” “…with the superintendent of the mayoral candidate.” When the conversation would come around to me, I felt like I was eight years old. I’d just be like, “Did anybody see the YouTube video where the raccoon stole the cat’s food, and the cat was scratching him and the raccoon didn’t care? He just came in like this, like George Foreman, and then he reached out, he had hands. All of a sudden, he had hands. I didn’t know they had hands. He scooped it up and he ran away on paws. Did you guys know they had hands?” So now I’m married, so the next move is you’re supposed to have a kid, which I would love to do, but I’m 46 years old. I’m just thinking it’s too fucking late, ya know. Come on, man, I’m gonna have a kid, I’m gonna die of natural causes when the kid’s in fifth grade. Throwing him a Frisbee. “We used to use these on a Saturday.” Do a face plant. My kid’s standing there, “Mom, Dad’s sleeping again!” I feel hopelessly behind. All my friends have kids. Most of my friends who have kids are cool, but I got a couple of those who think now that they have a kid, that I don’t understand anything anymore. You know those people? The most basic shit. “Hey, man, it’s kind of cold out today.” “Dude, you don’t understand. You don’t understand cold till you got a two-year-old with a mitten up his ass and you’re trying to get chocolate off the other one’s face.” “All right, all right, I get it, you have a more complex life, but I still understand being cold, teeth chattering. Kind of lets me know. Right?” “Mine just turned six.” “Mine just turned seven.” I just feel hopelessly behind. So what I’m actually thinking of doing, I’m thinking about adopting. Yeah. Absolutely, recycle. You know? Think globally, act locally. Everything doesn’t have to be brand-new. You know? It’s like when you redo your kitchen. You got custom up top, you got IKEA down the bottom, right? I’d love to adopt. It’s a great thing to do. But if I do it, I’m not telling any of my friends. I’m just gonna show up with the kid one day, just to piss ’em off. “Mine just turned six.” “Mine just turned seven.” I’d love to just show up with an eight-year-old, like, “Dominoes! Yeah, now I get to tell you what you don’t understand. Seven-year-old? Wait till they turn eight, eight is such a funny age. Terrible twos? Try the instant eights! Bam! They’re just there, like…! With all their issues…!” I should do it, though. I should adopt. I think it’s a great thing to do, and I already know what I want to get. I do. I want to get, like, an ’07, ’08… always garaged, good dentition. Do you know what I would love to do? I’d love to rescue some kid that works in a sweatshop. Wouldn’t that be amazing? Like, find the kid that made this shirt? Just show up at the factory like, hey! “Come on, bring it in! Bring it in, you little maniac! How you doing? You’re going back to the States. L-shaped couch, flat screen TV. Get in the car, the rest of you keep sewing, but you, you’re coming home with me!” Yeah. Dude, how easy… how easy would that kid be to raise? After the hell he’s been through, all I gotta do is let him sit down. I am immediately the greatest human being this kid has ever met. Just bring him home. “Have a seat.” He’ll be like, “I get to sit down?” “Yeah, lay down on the couch.” He’ll be like, “It’s like a cloud! It’s like a cloud!” I’ll get him a bowl of Fritos, put on cricket or soccer, one of those sweatshop sports. I don’t know. The kid would love me. So that’s my first draft pick. All right? Coming out of the gate with that. In the second round, I’d probably get like an ’05 boy soldier, ya know. Yeah, shore up the offensive line. You gotta protect the blindside. That’s how fucked up the world is, there’s little boys out there fighting in wars. So that’s a twofer. I can drag him out of that hell, give him something of what’s left of his childhood, and, God forbid, if the dollar ever collapses, right? Shit goes south, zombies take over, I got backup. Everybody thinks I’m gonna be the problem, meanwhile, I got this sawed-off Chuck Norris… standing next to me, 170 kills, confirmed fucking kills. They’re not stories! Can make a flamethrower out of a vacuum cleaner and a toaster. You can’t coach that, right? I got to be honest with you, I feel like I’d have to go easier on the discipline with the boy solider. I might be nuts, but I feel like I could come down on the sweatshop kid, right? “I said get in there and clean up your goddamn room. I’m getting sick of this shit! Goes for you too if you want. But you! You’ve been out of line all day, mister! Don’t even start that shit! Don’t even start that shit. You say that every time. Yes, you do. Every fucking time you say that. You know the answer. You want me to say it again? I’ll break it down to you. You know why it is? You want to know why? ‘Cause you sew. All right? Yeah. You sew. Dude, he’s fucking killed people. Do you understand that? No, he doesn’t, he doesn’t have to make his bed too. No, he doesn’t. Because he doesn’t sleep in the bed, he’s out in the bushes all night, talking to himself, freaking me the fuck out, all right? Oh, fuck you, fuck you! He scares me too, he scares me too. Don’t even start that shit. You wanted a big brother, and I got you one. Don’t even start that shit, all right? All right, you’re right. Stop crying, stop crying. Shouldn’t have yelled at you. I just thought I could fucking bring him in, give him a couple of Pop Tarts, I figured he’d chill out. Fucking sitting there looking through his eyebrows, doing that Full Metal Jacket shit. No, you can’t give him back, it doesn’t work that way. There he is, there he is! What’s up, buddy? What’s going on? We were just talking about you, just doing, like, a little surprise thing. You feeling all right? You feeling all right? You’re not looking through those eyebrows, huh? Everything okay?” So I figure, uh… I don’t know if I’ll do it. Maybe I’m too selfish. I have no idea. I’m all over the fuckin’ map. Do you know what I want to do right now? I actually want to learn how to fly a helicopter, man. I do, that’s my latest thing. You know why it is? It’s ’cause I live in Los Angeles. Yeah, and it’s an absolute clusterfuck. When you go into land in that city, just look out the window, and just look at the complete lack of planning. There’s not even zoning laws. They’ll build, like, a skyscraper next to a house, next to a gun range, and then there’s, like, a fucking daycare center. Right? The city doesn’t even work even when everything else works, so God forbid, the dollar collapses or some crazy shit happens, where you gonna go in a city like that? See, you guys are all right out here in Atlanta. You’re all right. I don’t know, maybe in Atlanta might be crazy. You’re on the outskirts, you’re fine. You’re fine. You don’t live in a desert. You slam your face in a birdbath, you’re cool. Drink that water for a good 30 days. L.A., there’s nowhere to go. That’s why I love the helicopter. Dude, the helicopter is the ultimate “fuck this, I’m out” vehicle. All you gotta do is assess the situation. Zombie coming up the street? “Fuck this! This looks safe.” You just land it. You could sit there hovering. Just sit there in a hover watching everybody getting killed, sitting up there eating cheese and crackers with the red stick. Yeah, so I told my wife I want to fly a helicopter. She’s just like, “Yeah, no.” Which I know that came from a place of love, but it still kind of annoyed me. Just that she said that shit, then I was just gonna be like, “Oh, all right. Thought I was gonna get to do that, but you said no, so… there goes that. Hey, what other dreams aren’t I gonna get to achieve? Like, do you already know or are you waiting for me to ask?” Yeah, I’m still gonna do it, I’m just not gonna tell her. I’m just gonna go out and do it, pass the goddamn class, and when I get my license, I’m not going to tell her. I’m just gonna go out and buy a white silk scarf, and hang it by a nail in the living room. She’s just gonna be like, “What is that? What is that for? What does that mean?” “Yeah, someday you’ll see, someday you’ll see. When the shit hits the fan, and you’re freaking the fuck out, and I’m taking branches off some unforeseen helicopter.” “What is that?” “Shut the fuck up and get in!” Now you guys think I’m bullshitting, I’m not. I’m serious. I’m 100% in on this. And ever since I got into it, I’m seeing helicopters everywhere. I never realized how many helicopters there were. Driving down the street like Henry Hill looking up at them… doing key bumps and shit. “They’re after me! Swear to God!” I’m seeing stories about them! It’s just like that old advertising anecdote. “I never realized how many mattress commercials there were out there until I needed a mattress, and then all of a sudden, they’re all over the place. And then I bought a mattress and then it all went away.” It’s the same shit. I saw this story down in Orange County. Right? Down in Orange County, California. This guy gave helicopter tours for 30 years– 30 years without incident. Hands the business off to his son, the American dream. “I built it up for 30 years. Here you go, son. Make the family and the family name proud.” “All right, Dad, I love you.” All right? This poor kid, five days in, he’s supposed to give a tour to a couple, only the dude shows up. The kid thought it was weird, but he’s like, “I need the money. I gotta give him a tour.” Right? So he takes this guy up. Ten minutes into the tour, the dude fucking jumped out. Yeah, five days in. Five days in from the balloons and the cake. “We love you, son. Keep the family tree going. The traditional line.” Five fucking days later, this kid, he probably barely had the speech down. Just sitting there, flying the helicopter. “All right, if you look out the left side of the aircraft, that’s Orange County. There’s over 27 miles of beaches there. Put your seatbelt back on, 27 miles of beaches. Was established as a county in 1903. Sir, please don’t open the door. Sir, what are you doing? Sir, no, no. Don’t, don’t, stop, no, no! What the fuck? What the fuck? Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Oh, my God. What the fuck, what the fuck?! Fuck!” Air traffic control: “I don’t know who’s on this frequency, but you really need–” “Somebody just jumped out of the fucking helicopter!” Five days in. So I read further into the story. Turns out the guy who jumped out, he was 61 years old, terminally ill, he was in pain every day. They couldn’t figure out what was wrong with him, and he had had enough. At that point, that guy immediately became a hero in my world. Know what I love about him, not only did he make the decision, he didn’t go out like some pussy, right? Handful of pills, watching a romantic comedy, wrapped in an afghan that Nana made. Fuck that. Guy went out like a man. “Take me up in a chopper, I’m looking at the land I love, and then I’m jumping out like a superhero.” I loved it. Yeah. [applause] This guy should have been wearing a fucking cape. I can’t imagine how elated he must have been on that helicopter ride up after finally just taking back control of his life, like, “Fuck you, disease. I decide.” Ripping tubes out, gets a burger, shotguns a beer. “Take me up in the chopper.” He probably had his fucking foot on the dashboard. He’s not even listening to this guy giving the tour. Right? “Over 27 miles of beaches, put your seatbelt back on. Established as a county in 1903. Sir, please don’t try to open the door. No, no, don’t, don’t, don’t!” [screams] [imitates wind whipping] Incredible! But here’s the thing. I left out one small thing. There is one small thing. The guy fucking lived. Yeah. Yeah, they were out over the ocean, 500 feet up. You’d think that would be enough so, I’m thinking he must have gone in like Greg Louganis, like, no splash, just… But witnesses said it looked like a dummy was falling out of the air. So that sounds like a hell of an impact. I think he accidentally did the most epic 500-foot belly flop in the history of jumping out of a helicopter. But that didn’t change what he was trying to do. Where his heart was, I still love this guy. I just feel bad for him. On the way down, he’s got to be thinking, “Three more seconds of pain! Two more seconds!” Wham! [agonized scream] “Oh, my God, this is worse! This is way worse!” It has a happy ending, though. He later died at the hospital. That’s right. So here’s to him. God bless him. I hope I have the balls someday. So where do you go from there? Well, as I mentioned, last time I came through town, I wanted to get a gun. You know? I do. Yeah. But I’ve finally given up on that. I gave up on that dream. My wife doesn’t want me to get one, so. Yeah, she didn’t want– Dude, you got to pick your fucking battles. I’m gonna learn how to fly a helicopter on the sly, I can’t fucking have some .357 hanging around. “I’ll do whatever I want. All right? What I say goes! Eat it!” Can’t be that person. Now it fucking bums me out, ’cause all I wanted to do was just get a .22, that’s all I wanted. Perfect gun for home protection, .22 caliber. You’re laughing at that, sir? That’s not enough? I don’t know. I’m down South. What do you think? That’s not enough, right? You want– Shotgun, right? .44? You guys are out of your minds. You’re out of your fucking minds. Let me ask all you gun guys, who are gonna make fun if I had a .22. “What’s with your .22? That little queer gun. Do you keep it between your buttocks? Is that the holster? Is that what you do with your gay little gun? You need a big gun.” All you fucking guys. Let me ask you this, all you guys with your guns… have you ever shot the fucking thing without earplugs? Have you ever done that? Or you’re like most people, you take it down to the gun range, you put your earplugs in, put your headset on, take it out of the briefcase. You got your little yellow tinted fucking glasses, right? You look at your spread or whatever, and then you put it back in there, right? You ever shot that thing without fucking earplugs? ‘Cause that’s what’s gonna happen when that intruder comes in. You’re not gonna have time to be, “Hang on a second, let me just…” Yeah, you’re not gonna have time. Dude, I shot a five-shot .38 one time without earplugs. I was landscaping this guy’s yard. He comes out at the end of the job. “Hey, I got this five-shot .38. You want to go down the street? There’s a burned-out car. We can take a couple of shots.” You know what’s funny? Every other state is fuckin’ dying laughing at this point in the joke because it’s so goddamn ridiculous, until I get down to the South. And you guys just sit here staring at me like, “All right, so what happened? Pretty standard, I thought this was gonna be a comedy show. You’re reading from your journal? I don’t understand what the– It’s not a real compelling story.” I’m mowing a fucking lawn, and a stranger comes out with a weapon and says, “Let’s shoot it at a burned-out car!” Okay? Jesus Christ, can we agree on that? So I’m like, all right, let’s do it, fuck it. So I go down there. Never shot a gun before. I bring the gun up, point it at the car, I pull the trigger. I saw the muzzle flash, I felt a kick, I never heard the gun. I pulled the trigger, all I just heard was… [high-pitched tone] I shot the gun four more times. Never heard it. Didn’t get louder, didn’t get quieter. Just kept seeing flashes. [high-pitched tone] All right? So let’s take one of your fucking guns. Let’s just say, for the sake of argument. All right, you got that thing sitting on a nightstand, loaded. Right? For God’s sakes, tell me you have it there. Don’t be one of these people that has the gun here and the bullets there. You got the thing fucking loaded, ready to go. 3:00, 4:00 in the morning, this is when the psycho’s coming in too, right? That’s when they come in, 3:00, 4:00 in the morning. They don’t come by at 6:30 at night, as you’re cutting into a pork chop. “I’m out of my mind, I’m coming back in 20 minutes, so stretch out your hammies ’cause it’s gonna get crazy.” That’s not how it works. They wait till you’re dead asleep, 3:00, 4:00 in the morning, right before REM sleep is kicking in. So let’s just say for the sake of argument, all you gun guys, you got your thing loaded, right? Your piece, right? Right there, loaded for bear. You’re lying there, same scenario, right? One leg under the covers, one without. Shirt. 4:00 in the morning, you’re just… [snoring] Meanwhile, some psycho, sneaking in through the living room window, right? He brings in a fucking sickle. And he’s just listening. Listens all the way down that hall and he just hears… [snoring] He’s trying not to squeak on the floorboards. And you’re just fucking lying there. [snoring] All of a sudden, that little dog on the floor is just like… [low growling] [growling and snoring continue] “What’s the matter? What’s the matter? What’s the matter? What’s the matter, boy? You hear something? What’s the matter? What are you barking for? You’re shaking. What’s the matter, huh? You hear something? What’s–? Come on, man, quit fucking around. I got to go to work tomorrow.” [snoring] All of a sudden, boom! That door flies open. You just see this shadowy figure. You pick up that gun. Blam! [high-pitched tone] And you fucking miss! You miss! You can’t see, now you can’t hear. That’s two out of five senses! What, are you gonna taste him as he comes around the bed? You’re still gonna be shooting over here. Meanwhile, you see this strobe light psycho coming around the fucking bed. Takes off your head. If you had the .22, you could still hear. Your ears would be ringing, but you could hear that fucker coming across, and you could shoot at him, and he would leave. He would leave. You guys just won’t get off the fact that it’s a fuckin’ .22. You’re, like, psychotic with this shit. All right. No, no, no, no, no, no, no. Let me– I will extend an olive branch to you people, okay? I get it. I get it that a .22 is basically a ‘roided-up BB gun. I got it, okay? I understand that if you actually want to kill somebody, you have to basically have the gun up to somebody’s head and be throwing a jab as you pull the trigger. I understand that. Okay? But I maintain, I don’t care who the fuck the toughest person is in this house. I could defend my house with a BB gun. I don’t give a fuck how tough you are. I don’t care. If I started shooting at you with a BB gun, at the very least, you have to go back outside and regroup. That’s a fact. That is a fact. If I caught you in your elbow, that might be the end of your night. “Look, I’m coming back, I’m coming back!” I’ve been trying to get along with my wife better. I’m trying to dial down the douchebaggery in my relationship. I’m not turning out the pilot light, though. All right? I’m keeping some fight in me. I’m not gonna be that henpecked guy just standing there like, “I guess we’re making holiday cookies.” That dude with the bowed shoulders. “She makes them and then I’m supposed to sprinkle the sugar on them. I don’t even think they taste that good, but just–” No, I stand my ground sometimes. Sometimes I let it go. You just got to figure it out. We had a fight the other night, she got so mad at me, she was like, “You can just sleep downstairs. You can just sleep downstairs.” I couldn’t believe it. It’s one of the most arrogant things I’ve ever heard in my life. One adult telling another adult where they can sleep. “You can just sleep downstairs.” Like I was just gonna sit up in bed, grab a blanket like Linus. “All right. Hey, where downstairs, by the way? Like, over here downstairs, or like more over here? Where should I sleep?” It’s like, are you out of your mind? I go, “I’m not sleeping downstairs.” She’s like, “Where you gonna sleep, then?” I’m like, “Where I always sleep. I will fucking sleep on your side of the bed if I want to! What are you gonna do? I’m bigger than you. I’ll hang onto the covers, try to get me out. No tickling. Go ahead!” Yeah, I was like, “You don’t tell me where to sleep. I sleep where I want to sleep.” She’s like, “Well, you don’t tell me where to sleep.” I’m like, “I’m not the one telling people where to sleep!” It was one of those classic relationship fights. It’s like 2:00 in the morning, you’re both half naked. She’s not wearing a bra, you got half a ball hanging out. “And another thing! No, no, I need to say this! The other day, I felt slighted!” It’s fuckin’ unreal, but what kills me is that there’s actually guys out there that will actually listen to that shit. Yeah, you talk to them, they’ll be, “Hey, how’s it been going?” “It’s been rough last of couple nights downstairs on the couch. You know how that is, right?” No, I don’t. I don’t understand. How did you get yourself into that situation? Like, what are you afraid of? What is she gonna do if you say no? What, is she gonna fucking chokeslam you onto the kitchen table? I understand if you’re dating some woman and she does that UFC MMA shit, then you got to sleep where she says to sleep, you got to. She’s gonna come at you. “Well, let’s get you in an arm bar.” “All right, all right, all right!” Tapping out. Or even worse, she chokes you out. You wake up on the couch, like, 11 minutes later. Just grab your jacket off the back of the couch. “I fucking hate when she does this. It’s like, it’s not even fair. Have a debate like a normal person.” All right? I’m gonna talk somebody down from a ledge here, someone who’s actually been sleeping on the couch, okay? So there’s the first fear, out the window. Okay, she can’t physically dominate you, so that’s gone. What’s the next fear? She’s gonna cut off the sex. Yeah, rub one out. Neutralized. It’s the most empty threat there is. Do it right in front of her. “Join me!” Yeah. I’ve never understood that threat. That’s like somebody putting a chain around your refrigerator, but you got a sandwich in your pocket, a never-ending sandwich, like some biblical shit, like Jesus with the fucking bread or whatever. So now what’s the last thing she can do? What can she do now? Be moody? You can’t handle that? Walk by your TV without looking at you. Only make herself something yummy out in the kitchen. Who gives a fuck? My wife does that, I just sit there, I just start commentating. “Here she comes again, walking by the TV. She really must be mad.” She’s never body-slammed me once, ever. I’m not saying to be a dick. All right? I’m just saying, you got to keep them honest. Every once in a while, you got to have a little pushback. “Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey.” Rest of the shit– I’m learning that about women. You just want to keep them calm. Just keep them calm, like a rescue dog, right? Just everything’s cool, everything’s cool, just, “Yeah, yeah, yeah, this is great, this is great, I’m having a great time. No, your friends are awesome, your friends are awesome, very interesting party. I am talking to people, I’m talking to people, I am having a good time here.” That’s what you do. You just do that enough, then when you bark back, you got a little something. Here’s an olive branch I’ve extended to her. It’s basically… We fight a lot over television. I’ve kind of come her way, she’s come my way. She watches a little bit of sports, I occasionally will watch a romantic comedy. Which, I don’t care, the nerd’s gonna fuck the cheerleader. I’ll watch it, right? I don’t mind them, it’s an uplifting story. I just don’t like the love scenes in romantic comedies. They creep me out. They’re just so fucking nice. It’s, like, missionary-style. There’s candles. That stupid saxophone music. [imitates saxophone] It always goes down. Like the saxophone implies the penetration, right? ‘Cause they can’t show it. They got to make her this one-dimensional, this little angel. They ignore the other 90% of her sexuality. No hair-pulling, no ass-slapping, none of that shit. None of that taboo stuff of a woman’s sexuality. That’s never brought up. That whole “Hold me down but let me up, but hold me down. Choke me, but let me breathe, but kind of scare the shit out of me a little bit. I want to feel your power but I want to be safe, but let me know if you really wanted to.” That whole Fifty Shades of Rape, whatever the hell that is. Yeah. I don’t even pretend to understand it. I remember the first time a woman wanted to get me to choke her a little bit. I didn’t even know what she was doing. I was just so psyched to be getting laid, I was like… And she just kept taking my hand, and she kept putting it right here. I didn’t know what she was doing. I thought she was testing my core strength or some shit. And finally, I was just like, “What are you doing?” She says, like, “I don’t know. I just kinda like, ya know. It’s like squeeze a little bit and kind of like squeeze it. Why don’t you want to do it? It’ll be fun.” Why don’t I want to do it? I don’t think I want a passed-out naked woman with my fingerprints all around her neck. Having the cops show up. “Yeah, she’s in here, Officer. Damndest thing, it was her idea. I swear to God, it was her idea!” Yeah, they always make it nice in those movies. The raciest thing they’ll do is every once in a while, they’ll kiss up against a wall. I guess women like walls. I didn’t know that. A lot of up-against-the-wall kissing. “Oh, my God, it’s the wall. Oh, my God! It’s supporting me, maybe he’ll support me, it’s a metaphor, I love it.” Yeah, I saw one the other night, they were doing that, and then out of nowhere, they started having sex up against the wall. I’m like, finally, something a little bit more interesting, right? But they were doing it standing up facing each other, missionary-style. Arguably one of the most difficult positions there is, and they were doing it with little to no difficulty. All she did was lift her leg up like that, and that was it. He was off to the races. I ruined the movie for my wife. I’m like, “That is fucking bullshit! Bullshit.” What does the guy have, like, a U-shaped dick? How is he doing anything? Is he sticking it in her navel? Did he grease up her thighs, to hell with her needs? Like, if all she’s gonna do is this, she’s got to bring it up like an offsides call, if that’s what she’s doing. All right? If not, you got to make some adjustments. You just got to grab the other leg, you got to try to pick her up there, use these muscles. [screaming] Maybe you could grab a doorjamb, drop down, try to come in, try to do that. Dude, nobody can do that other than a porn star for longer than 18 seconds before they’re like, “All right, this is ridiculous, okay? My calves are burning, I can’t get nearly enough momentum to do any sort of damage. I can literally feel you getting on with your day with every pathetic attempt to try and rock your world.” These guys in the movie, they have no problem banging away, then they pick them up like they’re not heavy. They start walking down, they see the bed, they just lay her down on the bed. Dude, I’m not trying to be a dick, but every woman in here is heavy. Yeah, you’re heavy. You’re an adult female! Jesus Christ, when do you stop picking up your kids? When they’re, like, five or six? “Get off of me! Jesus Christ. You’re gonna throw out my back. Go jump on your brother.” An adult woman weighs 115 pounds, 120, all the way up to God knows what. And it’s not balanced weight. Most of it’s in your thighs and in your ass. Your head’s hanging off trying to counterbalance. Dude, when guys go to the gym, we don’t put 30 pounds on one side and a buck-80 over here. “Fuckin’ yeah!” Yeah, it’s ridiculous. Trying to carry a naked woman, it’s like trying to carry a half-filled waterbed mattress. You’re, like, bumping into shit. When you see the bed, you don’t walk to it, you slowly start picking up momentum. Then she bounces off this mattress, hits the wall, slides down, the whole sex vibe’s ruined, and you’re back to your sandwich in your pocket. All right, I’m out of time. You guys were awesome. Thank you so much. Thank you, thank you. I had a great time. I’ll see you next time. Thank you. [cheers and applause]"
Bo Burnham,"Bo What? Old MacDonald had a farm E I E I O And on that farm he had a pig E I E I O Here a snort There a Old MacDonald had a farm E I E I O [Applause] This is Bo Burnham. He’s 22 years old. He’s a male. And he looks like the genetic product of a giraffe having sex with Ellen Degeneres. He has a gigantic head and tiny nipples. He’s isolated himself over the last 5 years in pursuit of comedy. And, in doing so, has lost touch with reality. You’re an asshole, Bo. You hear me? You think you know better than me. You think you know better than everybody. You will die alone. And you will deserve it. But in the meantime, you might as well tell those silly jokes of yours. See if that helps. [Up beat music starts] You used to do comedy when you felt like being funny. But now you’re contractially obligated so dance you fucking monkey. DANCE, MONKEY, DANCE! Welcome to the show this is Bo, this is his show. And Bo likes to dance like this. Welcome to the show, this is Bo this is his show. And Bo takes off his pants like this. Play an invisible drum. [Invisible drum sounds] Play an invisible trumpet. Trumpet sound! Drink some invisible water, OH SHIT! That water is real! Bo wants to make you feel comfortable. Bo wants to make you feel comfortable. Random voice Bo wants to make you feel comfortable. So sit back, relax, and enjoy a healthy dose of prolonged eye contact. prolonged eye contact. prolonged eye contact. prolonged eye contact. prolonged eye contact. prolonged eye contact. prolonged eye contact. prolonged eye contact. prolonged eye contact. prolonged eye contact. prolonged eye contact. prolonged eye contact. prolonged eye contact. prolonged eye contact. prolonged eye contact. prolonged eye contact. prolonged eye contact. prolonged eye contact. prolonged eye contact. prolonged eye contact. prolonged eye contact. Lick your lips to make it more comforting. Do you wanna see a magic trick? Yeah! Do you wanna see a magic trick? Yeah! Do you wanna see a magic trick? Then pick a card any card. SIKE! Magic isn’t real, you idiot. Read a book. Magic isn’t real, you idiot. Read a book. Magic isn’t real, you idiot. Read a book. Magic isn’t real. Or is it? And at that moment, Bo’s 20-year-old cynicism melted into childlike wonder. He never knew there could be so much magic in the world. It’s a world of possibilities, Bo. What do you wanna do first? Run? Yeah, sure you can run. Fly? Well yeah, you can fly. What? What are you… What the fuck you… What the fuck are you doing? Stop- St- Stop it! What the f- You fucking idiot, stop. Stop. Stop. Anyways. In the distance, Bo saw a beautiful fairy. A fairy so beautiful that he felt proud about being called one in high school. He then came across an old bridge with a troll standing guard. Bo knew that he’d have to answer a riddle to get by. The troll spoke thus: “All right, for the last time man, I’m not a troll.” “I’m homeless.” “Okay? Do you have any spare change?” “Okay, that’s a used napkin.” “I don’t want that.” “No. No, stop. Just-” “You know, leave. Just leave. Please leave.” And then, as Bo arrived on the other side of the stage, he saw a unicorn with 5 horns right in front of him. And the pentacorn spoke thus: “Hello, Bo!” ‘I’ve been looking for you for quite a long time no-” [Gunshots] [Reloading] [Gunshots] He was safe. For now… But the dark thoughts would soon return. IT’S GODZILLA! AAAAHHHHH!!! AAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!! [Screeching] OH MY GOD AHHHHH!!!! [Screeching] GODZILLA!! AAAAAUUUGGHHHHHH!!! [Screeching] It’s so hard to be a lizard. It’s hard to be a lizard. Tiny arms, itchy gizzard. It’s hard to be a lizard. But it’s harder to segue. Is he skiing? Or is he in a gay porn? Is he skiing? What? Or is he in a gay porn? Is he skiing? Huh! Or is he in a gay porn? Here’s a hint. He’s in a gay porn. Okay Bo, this miming shit is getting pretty annoying. So give ’em the real thing! [Autotuned] My voice is so fucking natural. [Autotuned] It’s naturally good. [Out of tune] Naturally good! Na-a-a-aturally good. This is the end of the song and the beginning of the show. Welcome to the show! [Applause] That lizard part was pretty fucking stupid. Anyway, San Francisco! Yeah! We are a place. We are a place. In California- Um, I’d like to, uh, I’d like to start with a joke for my male audience. Uh, this is a joke for the fellas. Where are my fellas at? FELLAS?! [Fellas respond] Yo, fellas don’t you hate it when you’re blowing a guy and he ends up being a faggot? AM I RIGHT?! I’ve been blowing a faggot this whole time? Third time this week. Thank you so much. We’re having fun… This, um- This show is called “what”. And I hope there are some surprises for you, or someth- Jesus, sorry. It’s a good start. Uh, hope there’s- He meant to knock the water over. Yeah, yeah, yeah. But you all thought it was an accident. But, he meant to knock the water over. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Art is a lie. Nothing is real! So, um, we uh- Grow up! Grow up with your applause. Stick it… He meant to knock the water over. Yeah, yeah, yeah. But you all thought it was an acc– Just, don’t, if it’s on repeat it will repeat. Just… we can cut all this, so… We meant to play the track again. Yeah, yeah, yeah! But you all thought it was an accident. But, he meant to play the water track a-ga-ga-gain! Art’s still a lie. Nothing’s still real! Food jokes. Let’s do some food jokes. Segues are weird. Um… [Laughs] I had a hot dog for breakfast today, and afterwards I felt like this. Cos I couldn’t control my stools. Alright, Jesus… I’m glad you like poop based puns They will be a majority of the show. Never waste a moment, every moment can become a comedic moment. See. So… Just a little lesson for comedians. This first song, is called: “A world on fire” [Screaming] This next song, it’s a little bit… it’s a little bit longer then that one. And… Thank you. It’s about how sad I am, and I’m really sad, it’s called “Sad” [Piano music] It’s about all the sad stuff Just picture a depressed onion cutting it self. [Gasps] I met a homeless man named Rich. Isn’t that terrible? I saw a flyer for a lost dog, and the dog did not have any legs. I saw a diabetic kid, trick-or-treating. I saw a giraffe who had a short neck. That was sad, or a dear? I saw an old man get hit by a train. He didn’t see it in the pouring rain. He didn’t hear me shout: “look out for the train!” Cos I didn’t say anything. I just thought to my self: “Ooh, this is going to be sad.” And it was. I’m a genius. [gasps] I saw a man with only one eye, in a 3D movie. I saw a little boy drop his ice cream cone directly on his mothers corpse! I saw a kitten stuck in a tree. Then the kitten jumped off and it hung it self I saw a boy who had red hair. I went to a store looking for something to buy. But they only sold paintings of the same sad guy. No wait! This store sells mirrors, see what I did there? LETS ROCK! No. The worlds is so sad bros. Pain. Genocide, war. Sexism, Racism. But I gotta remember there’s good things about it too. Like the fact that none of that is happening to me. Score! Still though it’s hard not to be sad about it. [to audience] How do you all do it? I’ve been telling you guys terribly sad things this whole song you haven’t been sad at all, you’ve been… You’ve been happy. No… You’ve been laughing. That’s it, laughter. That’s the key to everything. It’s the way to solve all the sadness in the world. I mean not for the people that are actually sad, but for people like us, that gotta fucking deal with them all the time. Being a comedian isn’t being an insensitive prick, capitalizing on the most animalistic impulses of the public. It’s being a hero. The world isn’t sad, the world is funny. I’m a sociopath! I saw an old man slip and fall. Hey, what a fucking idiot. I saw a woman at her daughters funeral. Ha-ha-ha. Classic comedy. Everything that once was sad is somehow funny now. The holocaust and 9/11, that shit’s funny 24/7. Cos tragedy will be exclusively joked about. Because my empathy is bumming me out. God-bye sadness! Hello jokes. Thank you. [applause] I’ve got a really good joke about video editors. Video editors are so fucking… I think we should do a poem right now, if that’s OK? This poem is a little bit sappy, a little bit romantic, so we’ll get it out of the way now, and we’ll go back to the… Oops… the dirty stuff, you know. Everyone loves at a late show or whatever. OK It’s called: “I fuck sluts” [audience member yells] It’s not a roll call but thank you. Sluts! Sluts! [laughs] Sluts! Sluts! I fuck sluts. Sluts get fucked when I fuck sluts. No ifs ands or buts. I fuck sluts! I fuck sluts! Nice girls are nice. But no good for nut sucking. They’ll need a serene night to green-light a buttfucking. But that’ll be easy with sleazy old slut fucking. Boo to the nice girls, praise be to slut fucking. I have a list. A list? Yes, a list of all the sluts I’ve missed. I’ve never fucked or sucked these sluts. And thus my nuts are fucking pissed. So when I fuck the lucky slut my nut removes her from the list. Another dumb cum-bucket struck from my nut sucking, suck it slut, slut fucking, bucket list. [applause] Yes, you hear the influences: Chaucer, Keats. Um… The pages are blank, I know it. Why am I lying to you? Sluts can be white, black, brown, pink, or almond. They can be skinny with big tits, or be skinny with small ones. Sluts can be perky, prepy or posh, with their brains and their clothes all shrunk from the wash. Excuse me. But other sluts are pretty and funny and smart. These sluts can lift all your thoughts from your dick to your heart. They can talk about science music or art. They can put you together, or they can pull you apart. But don’t trust there sluts, Don’t, don’t you dare. They’ll force you to trust them and love them and care And then they’ll be gone and you’ll be aware of the hole in your heart that that dumb slut left there. Thank you very much. [applause] So, he was lashing out with sexist language cos he had his heart broken. We all learn something. Thank you all for coming. I know some of my bits are a little bit fast and dense, a little bit hard to follow, particularly that one. So I want to do something a little bit slower, for the people, maybe the older people in the crowd, or something, so umm… [laughter] This’s for you: Here’s a slow joke. [slowdown sound] [talking in slo-mo] What did the ear of corn say [talking in slo-mo] when all of it’s clothes fell off? [talking in slo-mo] Aww, shucks! [talking in slo-mo] Get it? [talking in slo-mo] Like “shucks” as in shucking corn [talking in slo-mo] and also “shucks” the exclamation. [talking in slo-mo] Am I right? [laughter] [speedup sound] Good. We’re having fun. Umm… My father recently told me that I act too flamboyant on stage. And I said: “really dad?” “Prove it!” [laughter] He sad: “Well what about that joke” “where you throw confetti at the end of it?” I said: “well I haven’t written that joke yet,” “cos it’s based of this conversation!” “Gotcha!” Keep it, keep the struggle. We are having a lot of fun guys. Don’t worry, you don’t have to fill the silences with laughter or applause. I don’t want you leaving this show thinking: “My hands hurt from clapping.” “My stomach hurts from laughing.” I just want you leaving the show, thinking: “Meh… alright…” And we are on our way. I moved to, um… Hollywood recently from Boston, where I grew up and… [audience member yells] Places! And I… [laughs] I heard about these sort of wild Hollywood party nights that people would have and I did not think they were true. Until I moved to Hollywood and I started having them. Anyway, this is a song about a crazy night that happened a couple of weeks ago. It’s called: “What did I do last night?” [Electronic music starts] Yeah! Yeah! Hey! Hey! Hey! What did I do last night? I cried my self to sleep! [Music stops] [Laughter] [applause] It was a good one. When did my mother first describe gay sex to me? Good question, I was 8 years old… I was 8 years old, she brought me into the dining room, she sat right across the table from me. She said: “Do you know how your father and I love each other” I said: “Of course.” “You and dad love each other” “more then two people could possible love each other.” She said: “Well two men can love each other in the exact same way” “that your father and I love each other.” She said: “what happens when two men love each other like that.” “What they do is, they take off all their clothes” “Umm.. they get into bed” “And they SHIT ON THE BIBLE!” [laughter] So I don’t talk to her anymore. OK [80’s sf sounds] [Robotic voice] Hello patient #24602 Hi. I’m sorry. [Robotic voice] How are you feeling? Not great. [Robotic voice] Has the treatment been working? No, it hasn’t been. [Robotic voice] What are your remaining symptoms? I just… I internalise my feelings. I have trouble articulati… Like, other people, and relating to them… [Robotic voice] So basically you’re still a little bitch? Real mature of you, disembodied voice. [Robotic voice] I was just joking nigger. [laughter] We are right by Oakland, Careful with that shit. [Robotic voice] I’m not human, I can say whatever I want. Alright, Just get to the… What, what’s wrong with me, please. [Robotic voice] Your emotions and your logic are at war. OK. [Robotic voice] Your creativity and your analysis are at war. [Robotic voice] And most simply [Robotic voice] Your left and your right brain are at war. My left and my right… ? [Robotic voice] To fix the problem [Robotic voice] We must separate them from each other. Separa… [Robotic voice] Splitting your neurological functions in: [5] [4] [3] We book an appointment. [2 … 1] You don’t just start counting down. [Robotic voice] This may hurt a bit I don’t even know what “it” is. [Robotic voice] Zero. Just… [high pitched robotic sounds] [Robotic voice] Isolation complete. [Robotic voice] This is Bo’s left brain. [Robotic voice] Objective. Logical. Cold. [Robotic voice] Analytical. Aware of patterns. [Robotic voice] Aware of trends. [Robotic voice] He’s efficient. [Robotic voice] And a prick. [Robotic voice] This is Bo’s right brain. [Robotic voice] Subjective. Creative. Sensory. [Robotic voice] Aware of feelings. [Robotic voice] Aware of people. [Robotic voice] He’s emotional. Yes. [Robotic voice] And an idiot. That’s your opinion… So just… Be careful with opinions… Yooo! [Robotic voice] Play nice. I am the left brain. I am the left brain. I work really hard to my inevitable death brain. You’ve got a job to do, you better do it right. And the right way is with the left brains might. I like Oreos and pussy! Yeah! ok! And I cried for at least an hour after watching Toy Story 3. I am the right brain. I have feelings. I’m a little all over the place, but I’m lustful, trustful, and I’m looking for somebody to love. And put my penis in! Here comes a female, here comes a female. Puff your chest out take your phone and check your e-mail Our evolutionary purpose is repopulate, so gather data now and see if she’s a possible mate. Holy fuck! I think she might be the one! There’s something about her, I just can’t describe it. Tits. I am the earth she is the glorious sun. I want her to trust me, and I just want her to sit on my face. Sit… sit… Alright new right brain, you’re being insane. No left brain! I’m just being alive! You should try it. You might like it. I worked hard to give him everything he cared about. You were worried about the things he was scared about. I’m calm and collected when you act wild. I am the adult, you are the child. You think you are the right one every time. You think you know everything. You don’t know anything at all. Half of his problems were supposed to be mine. But you wanted everything. I hope that you’re happy. Cos he’s sure not. Well according to my calculations, you are a pussy! Name calling? Really? We’re going to do name calling? We are not calling names. We are just stating facts. And the fact is: You’re a quivering pussy. I’m the pussy? Well at least I don’t play with toys still. OK, Rubik’s cubes are not toys. They keep my spacial reasoning skills sharp. Left brain plays with toys. Look at you, Johnny fucking… toy player! Well at least I did my fucking job. I kept him working, I kept him productive. You were supposed to look after him. You were supposed to keep him emotionally stable through all this, now you are trying to blame me for how he’s feeling. How he’s feeling? If he’s feeling unhappy, it’s because you failed him. You did this to him, he hates you I know he does. He fucking hates you! [crying] Right brain, look, I’m sorry. No you’re not… Look, maybe there’s something that we could do together. Together? Take the best parts of both of us. And put them together. I’m listening… It would let you let your feelings out, it would let me analyse. So you could man the themes, I’ll man the form. It’s something that George Carlin did, It’s something that Steve Martin did, It’s something special that we could both perform. Do you know what it is? Juggling? We could juggle, and juggle our cares away! It was comedy. We could do comedy together. [Robotic voice] Initiate reassembly. Alright, right brain, we are going to do comedy together. Altight left brain, I’ll do comedy with you. Look, we can fix him like this. Make him happy again. I promise. Left brain… Left brain I love you! I know. [Robotic voice] Experimentation complete. Thank you very much. [applause] At this part of the show I’d like to talk about how deep I am. [laughter] [piano music] I’m pretty fucking deep… deep… deep… So deep… That I called this song… Hash-tag deep. Have you ever stopped to watch a bluebird drop from a tree and take to the air? Me neither. Have you ever took time out to finish a rhyme but the right words just weren’t there? Meat cleaver. The people in my life, are like grains of sand. Cos they stick together. Often near my butthole. If life is an ocean, I am a deep and handsome fish. A fish that’s drowning. If the artistic process is a birth canal then I am a freshly jellied kid, come witness my crowning. These thoughts of mine, must be a sign that I’m, hash-tag deep. If Jesus can walk on water, can he swim on land? Have you ever accidentally peed on the toilet seat instead of on your girlfriends face. Me neither. Me neither! Have you ever wrote a song note for note, and not a single note was out of place. [out of tune playing] The people in my life, are like blades of grass. How? Cos they’re all so grounded, But at least grass stays away from my BUTTHOLE! Art is a harlot, and I am her sassy urban friend. Oooh… That’s why you’re being so selfish. If mamma is right, and the world is my oyster, then I must have an allergy to shell… You don’t know, how could you know? If life makes you wish you were dead. Just put on a good movie then promptly put a bullet in your head. Spend forever asleep. Cos life pales in comparison to living the dream. Hash-tag deep. [music ends] Thank you. [applause] [happy music starts playing] [music stops] [sad music] Don’t you hate it when that happens? Yeah. Thank you, That’s called: “Beating off in A minor”. Yes… Yes… “A-minor”, the key, not the felony. So… I believe… [laughs] I believe there’s nothing more manly one can do then take a shower with 5 other guys. It’s true. It’s early caveman, Cro-Magnon, wandering though the fog. You know scrubbing 5 other sapiens, no homo. [laughter] I’d like to do… erm… do some poems right now. Erm… if that’s OK? We’re at this point at the show. These poems are actually… I’m releasing this special for free so I’m going to plug my poetry book. These are my new poems from my poetry book called “Egghead”. That will be out by the time this is airing. But not by the time you guys are seated here right now. They are pretty serious, and it’s all just sort of… This is usually the lull of the show. Usually. So i like at this point to sort of take the pressure of the audience. And just read some poems, and then we’ll go back to the giggles. So… This is a poem by a dog: “Roses are gray. Violets are a different shade of gray.” “Let’s go chase cars.” [Applause] + [Chimes] “Me. With my strange choice of adjectives.” “You with your muscular teeth and your clockwise vagina.” [Chimes] “I put a chameleon on a red dildo.” Well… “He blushed!” There we go. [Chimes] This is a poem about beauty, about self image, and about the ability to transform. “Martha was ugly, like a shaven baboon.” “So she wrapped her self up” “in a curtain cocoon.” “And after a week she finally emerged.” “She smelled like shit! What a psycho.” [Chimes] + [Laughter] “You’re incomparable.” “Like a … ” [Chimes] + [Laughter] + [Applause] “I want to beat you to death with a blunt object!” “I want to grab one of those” “high end fashion manikins by the ankles” “and bash your rib cage in!” “I want to sharpen 15 pencils” “bind them with a rubber band” “stick the lead in your mouth” “and punch the erasers!” “I want to strap you to a bed of nails” “then strap that bed of nails to the hood of my car” “so I can watch you suffer as we drive over speed bumps” “in a mall parking lot during an earthquake!” “I want you to somehow survive” “a terrible car crash and then somehow” “not survive a small fender bender” “on the way back from a hospital.” [Chimes] + [Laughter] Thank you that’s called “Dad”. [Laughter] + [Applause] This is a poem… It’s really a story that’s meant primarily for children. But I think it’s got a lesson we could all learn. “The squares lived happily.” “In their square houses.” “In their square yard.” “In their square town.” “But then one day,” “a family of circles moved in from the west” “Get out of here roundies!” “Shouted one of the squares.” “Why? Said one of the circles” “Cos this is a metaphor for racism” [Chimes] + [Laughter] + [Applause] “When I walk into a party” “you’d think I was one of those long straight Tetris pieces” “cos everyone’s just like: Oh yeah. This guy’s here” “Finally we’ve been waiting for him to show up” Like you wait… in the game… Forget it. [Laughter] No. You had your chance. “If I had a million dollars” “I’d pay your mother to have sex with me” “afterwards I’d probably invest the remaining $999.990” Ten dollars for sex with your mother. Comedy! I smell comedy. Well, it was comedy giving off that scent. And finally: “Mid October,” “with leaves spilled like colored pencil shavings.” “The streets dicing our town into neat, unfair portions.” “And me.” “Eating that pussy baby!” [Laughter] + [Applause] Thank you so much. Um… There’s things that I don’t want to come across In my show, that I worry often come across, about me, cos people don’t realize it’s an act up here. I don’t want you to ever think that I think that I’m better then people. or that i think I know better then people. Um… anyway, sorry. OK. This is a song from the perspective of God. [Laughter] + [Applause] + [Piano music] Books you think I wrote are way to thick. Who needs a thousand metaphos to figure out you shouldn’t be a dick. And I don’t watch you when you sleep Surprisingly I don’t use my omnipotence to be a fucking creep. You’re not going to heaven. Why the fuck would you think I’d ever kick it with you? None of you are going to heaven. There’s a trillion aliens cooler then you. You shouldn’t abstain from rape just cos you think that I want you to. You shouldn’t rape cos rape is a fucked up thing to do. Pretty obvious, just don’t fucking rape people. Didn’t think I needed to write that one down for you. I don’t think masturbation is obscene. It’s absolutely natural and the weirdest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. You make my job a living hell. I send gays to fix overpopulation. Boy did that go well. You’re not going to heaven. Eat a thousand crackers, sing a million hymns. None of you are going to heaven. You’re not my children, you are a bad game of sim. You shouldn’t abstain from pork just cos you think that I want you to. You can eat pork cos why the fuck would I give a shit? I created the universe, you think I’m drawing the line at the fucking deli isle? [Laughter] + [applause] You argue and you bicker and you fight. Atheists and Catholics, Jews and Hindus argue day and night. Over what they think is true. But no one entertains the thought, that maybe God does not Believe in you. You pray so badly for heaven. Knowing any day might be the day that you die. But maybe life on earth could be heaven? Doesn’t just the thought of it make it worth a try? My love’s the type of thing that you have to earn. And when you earn it you won’t need it. My love’s the type of thing that you have to earn. And when you earn it you won’t need it. I’m not gonna give you love just cos I know that you want me to. If you want love then the love has gotta come from you. [Music ends] + [Applause] [Rock music] “Walking between the micorphones” “is really awkward.” Tell me about it. Um… Women are stupid! Yeah I fucking said it. They are the weaker, dumber sex. I can prove it to you. I like to practice safe sex. Why? Cos I’m a guy. And I’m smarter. What do women say, every time? Every time i put on a condom, what do they say? “Why are you wearing a condom?” “I’m fucking you with a strap-on.” To be safe bitch! Women right, they’re the dumb ones. It’s time for a story. Let’s do a story. [Happy music] “It’s time for a story.” “It’s time for a story.” “A very special story” “Especially for you.” “It’s time for a story.” “It’s time for a story!” “Sit down and listen now.” “Don’t be a Jew.” This story is called… It’s a glitch! You can be Jewish. This story… This story is called: “Andy the frog”. Featuring long and convoluted similes. And I’ll warn you when one of those long and convoluted similes rears it’s old, head. So here we go: “Once upon a time, there was a frog name Andy.” [Frog noise] “Andy lived at the patent park pond.” “And he never hopped anywhere else” “in his entire frog life.” “He had three best friends:” “Milly, who never left her lily pad.” [Laughs] “Billy, who was always hopping mad.” “And Roger, who was arrested for possession of tadpole porn.” [Laughter] “So one day…” “One day…” “Andy saw something hop across the grass” “on the other side of the pond.” “Milly, Billy, Roger, look! -Said Andy.” “Across the pond stood” “The most beautiful frog Andy had ever seen.” “She’s gorgeous! -Said Milly.” “She’s beautiful! -Said Billy.” “A bit old for my taste! -Said Roger.” “Classic Roger!” “And then she was gone.” “I need to go find her! -Said Andy.” “I need to follow my little frog heart.” “So Andy followed the beautiful frogs footsteps into the forest.” “He then came across a turtle.” “You can’t pass! -Said the turtle.” “Please? -Said Andy.” “No! -Said the turtle.” And this is the first long convoluted simile: “Then there was a rustling in the bushes.” “And, like a man who had been shot in the chest with a rifle,” “the turtle was shot in the chest with a rifle.” [Laughter] + [Applause] “Andy kept moving, but at this point,” “like the doctor of the Kenyan track team” “his patience ran thin.” “Andy kept moving.” [Laughter] “He then came across a giant crocodile.” “And the crocodile began to chant:” “I woke up this morning,” “And I sat on a log.” “I opened up the menu,” “the menu said FROG!” [Laughs] “Andy said: No! No! Please let go of me!” “I can feel my self dying!” “You’re ripping out my insides!” “I’m never going to find her, am i?” “There’s no God, Is there?” “Fuck!” “FUCK!!!!” The end. The end! So, that’s the end of that story. [Applause] + [Laughter] If you are curious, the moral of that story is irrelevant, cos we are humans. Why would it apply to us? Um… You know my father is so hard to get along with. Cos he’s such a man’s man. You know? He believes, like, for example: You should always fight fire with fire. Which is a horrible way to live your life. Especially for him, because he’s a firefighter so… He was fired… That was as stupid as we get. But let’s get a little stupider, ha? “There’s a creepy old man” “fishing in a park.” “and the only problem is” “he tied a candy bar” “to the end of his line.” “He’s trying to catch a kid.” You know that stuff… Trying to get a little more mainstream. [Laughs] Um… People complain about the way I act on stage very often, you know. They say, like, I repeat jokes. Or they also say that They say… They don’t get again, that this is an act, on stage. They think on stage I act too arrogant, too self-obsessed, solipsistic, self-contained, synonyms. And they want me to be… They want me to be a comic of the people. You know. Relate to the people with the overarching glue of comedy. So I want to do a little bit of relatable comedy for you guys. I’m like you guys, you know. Once a week I like to slip into a deep existential depression where I loose all my sense of oneness and self worth. Ha-ha! And what I like to do in order to assure my self that I am unique, and not just one of many small white indistinguishable perfectly cylindric checker pieces in Jesus and Satan’s backgammon game. Is, I will… I’ll say a group a words that I think no one has ever said. in that order. So that… when I say it, I feel like: “look at me!” Participating in this new moment that no one’s ever been a part of. So I’ll say something random like like: “Peanut-butter tribadism.” Or: “I’m your father and I loved your comedy show.” Or: “At first I wasn’t comfortable leaving him alone with my children” “but then I saw his mustache. Phew…” Or um… Or: “Yo! Check out this Amish website!” Or um… Or: “I work at a toll booth and I don’t want to kill my self.” Or… That’s… too… Too real. Or: “Yo man! Life’s about three things man,” “Three things!” “Gettin’ money!” “Gettin’ pussy!” “And the Dewey Decimal System!” Or… Um… Or: “Hey! Can you hold my fanny pack I’m gonna go fuck a woman.” [Laughter] + [Applause] Um… If i could break… I want to tank you all for being here because I… I’m so grateful that you’d all come here and spend an hour of your time with me. And if you are watching at home or whatever. On a computer or something. If you have made it this far, That you very much for watching. Genuinely… I… This is my favorite thing to do. And I’m so grateful for people watching it and enjoying it. Um… OK. I will now recede back into my stage persona [Scoffs] [Piano music] I just blacked out for 20 seconds. Thank you for coming. Love songs used to be so beautiful. You know: “Let us go then, you and I.” “When the evening is spread out against the sky” “like a patient etherised upon a table” -T. S. Eliot. Beautiful. Love songs now a days Just as beautiful, guys! Usher, Justin Bieber, 1D. You know them. But these new artists they’ve done something very strange to the format of the love song they’ve changed it a bit. And I try to… capture how they’ve changed the format of the love song with this love song. I hope you enjoy it and mark the differences. Jason Derulo. I love your hair, I love your name, I love the way you say it. I love your heart and you’re so smart cos you gave away it. I love your sis, I love your dad, And I love your mom. But more then all of that I love the fact that you are dumb enough, to not realise everything I’ve said has been said before in a thousand ways in a thousand songs sung with the same four chords. But you’ll still love it and let me finger you. YEAAA! FINGER YOU!! FINGER YOU!!! Oh girl, i hope you don’t think that I’m rude, when I tell you that I love you boo. I also hope that see through this cleverly constructed ruse, designed by a marketing team cashing in on puberty and low self esteem and girls desperate need to feel loved. America says we love a chorus, but don’t get complicated and bore us. Though meaning might be missin’ We need to know the words after just one listen so repeat stuff… .repeat stuff.. ..repeat stuff. repeat stuff… .repeat stuff.. ..repeat stuff. repeat stuff… .repeat stuff.. ..repeat stuff. …repeat stuff. Yeah. Oh you know it? I love my baby and you know I could not live without her. But now I need to make every girl think this song’s about her. Just to make sure that they spread it like the plague. So I describe my dream girl as really really vague, like: I love your hands cos your fingerprints are like no other. I love your eyes and their blueish-brownish-greenish color. I love it when you smile that you smile wide. And I love how your torso has a arm on either side. If you’re my agent, you might be thinking: “Oh no!” “Sound the alarm!” “You’re not appealing” “to little girls” “who don’t have arms.” But they can’t use iTunes, so… FUCK them! Who needs them? Oh girl I ho… Oh! Hello Satan! [Lewd noises] Satan you taste so good! repeat stuff… .repeat stuff.. ..repeat stuff. repeat stuff… .repeat stuff.. Everybody! [Audience] repeat stuff… [Audience] .repeat stuff.. [Audience] ..repeat stuff. [Audience] repeat stuff… C’mon, louder. I can’t hear you. [Audience] repeat stuff… [Audience] .repeat stuff. [Audience] ..repeat stuff. [Audience] repeat stuff… [Laughter] + [Applause] Young ones, listen up! I’m in magazines, full of model teens so far above you. So read them and hate your self. And pay me to tell you I love you. [Gasps: “I love you”] And your parents will always come along. Because their little girl is in love! And how can love be wrong? How can love be wrong? When you repeat stuff… .repeat stuff.. ..repeat stuff. repeat stuff… .rep… [Garbled voice] …I am a vessel… ….666… [Garbled voice] …Illuminati… We know it’s not right. We know it’s not funny. But we’ll stop beating this dead horse when it stops spiting out money. But until then… We will repeat stuff. [Music end] + [Applause] Thank you so much, you guys have been… Um… you guys have been absolutely amazing. You’ve been absolutely amazing. That’s the end of the show. I probably should have ended it on a sort of higher note there. But yeah, that’s the end of “what.” I hope you liked it… [Girl voice] Bo! [Girl voice] Oh my god! [Girl voice] How are you? [Girl voice] I have not seen you [Girl voice] since like freshman year. [Girl voice] Oh my god! [Girl voice] You were so like skinny [Girl voice] And weird back then. [Girl voice] But now you’re… Um… [Girl voice] Anyway… Um… [Girl voice] You should totally come [Girl voice] to this party I’m having tonight [Girl voice] with some of my college friends. [Girl voice] It’s gonna be off the chain hook! [Girl voice] It’s gonna be so good. [Girl voice] You can play some songs for us, [Girl voice] or something. [Girl voice] I’ve been telling everybody [Girl voice] how good a friends we were [Girl voice] Back in the day. [Girl voice] I know we never talked [Girl voice] or hung out ever, but… Um… [Girl voice] I think that’s what made [Girl voice] our friendship so special, you know. [Girl voice] Anyway, text me. OK. Bye. [Guy voice] Mr. Burnham? [Guy voice] How you doing? [Guy voice] Good? Good. [Guy voice] I’m a… I’m a agent [Guy voice] from out Los Angeles. [Guy voice] Really dig your stuff man. [Guy voice] It’s out there. You know. [Guy voice] I totally get it. [Guy voice] And the best part about it man, [Guy voice] you got all these young fans. [Guy voice] And… Which is great [Guy voice] Because young people, [Guy voice] they’re… they’re very passionate, [Guy voice] they’re very… Um… reliable consumers. [Guy voice] But what you gotta do [Guy voice] in order to take your career [Guy voice] to the next level, [Guy voice] you gotta cater more heavily to them. [Guy voice] Alright, we’ve done studies, [Guy voice] young people do not respond [Guy voice] to this, you know, introspective material [Guy voice] these challenges to the form, you know. [Guy voice] Young people want jokes [Guy voice] they can relate to. OK? [Guy voice] So… Write a… [Guy voice] Write a silly song about Facebook [Guy voice] you know, write some jokes [Guy voice] about Twitter, [Guy voice] or sugary cereal, [Guy voice] or razor scooters. [Guy voice] Relate to them. [Guy voice] You know, also [Guy voice] you gotta reestablish your presence [Guy voice] on the internet buddy. Alright? [Guy voice] It’s not important weather [Guy voice] the material is good or not. [Guy voice] What’s important is [Guy voice] that you keep the Bo Burnham brand [Guy voice] Alive and well. [Guy voice] You get it? Cool. [Guy voice] We’ll discuss more later [Guy voice] I know it’s a lot. [Guy voice] My number is 310… 555… [Bro voice] Fag! [Bro voice] What up dude! [Bro voice] What’s up? How are you man? [Bro voice] You’ve changed bro. [Bro voice] You’ve changed. [Bro voice] I never knew you. [Bro voice] But my friends old room mate’s friend [Bro voice] said he knew you in highschool [Bro voice] and that you became a real asshole [Bro voice] once all this comedy stuff started happening. [Bro voice] What is it man? [Bro voice] You think you are better then us? [Bro voice] You think you are better then us [Bro voice] just because you are tall? [Bro voice] Woah, congrats man, you are tall. [Bro voice] Wow! That’s incredible. [Bro voice] Woah! You want a trophy [Bro voice] for being tall? [Bro voice] You wonna… We should just give [Bro voice] trophies to tall things [Bro voice] and every tree, and building [Bro voice] will have a trophy. [Bro voice] Does that make sense? [Bro voice] Yo? Why are you acting [Bro voice] all quiet and weird right now? [Bro voice] Yo I know why you are. [Bro voice] It’s cos you are an arrogant prick, [Bro voice] that’s why. An arrogant fucking prick! [Bro voice] I once herd that you [Bro voice] actually act quiet because [Bro voice] you are shy and introverted in real life, [Bro voice] and that people should not expect [Bro voice] you to act the same way [Bro voice] off stage as you do on stage. [Bro voice] Ha ha! Yeah, yeah… [Bro voice] That makes no sense. [Bro voice] Anyway, you wanna buy some weed? [Girl voice] Bo! Oh my god! [Girl voice] Bo! Oh my god! Bo! Bo! Bo! Bo! Bo! Bo! Bo! Bo! Bo! Oh my god! [Guy voice] Mr. Burnham. Bo! Bo! [Bro voice] Fag! Bo! Oh my god! Mr. Burnham. Bo! Bo! Fag! Bo! Oh my god! Mr. Burnham. [This keeps going…] [Applause] I am Satan, lord of darkness! [Crickets] [Punching noises] [Girl voice] What the hell? [Punching noises] [Girl voice] You’re not gonna hit the girl? [Girl voice] That’s sexist! [Bro voice] We think you’ve changed, bro. [Guy voice] We know best. [Girl voice] You suck! We think you’ve changed, bro. We know best. You suck! We think We know You We think We know You We think We know You We think We know You We think We know You We think We know You We think We know You We think We know You [Starts playing music over voices]"
Dave Chappelle,"This is Dave. He tells dirty jokes for a living. That stare is where most of his hard work happens. It signifies a profound train of thought, the alchemist’s fire that transforms fear and tragedy into levity and livelihood. Dave calls that look “the trance.” ♪ Play me ♪ ♪ Buy me ♪ ♪ Workinonit ♪ ♪ Tune up ♪ ♪ Tune ♪ ♪ Oh ♪ ♪ Fade me ♪ ♪ Ah-ah, ah-ah, ah-ah ♪ ♪ In every ghetto ♪ ♪ Ah-ah, ah-ah, ah-ah ♪ ♪ In every ghetto ♪ ♪ Ah-ah, ah-ah, ah-ah ♪ ♪ In every ghetto ♪ ♪ Ah-ah, ah-ah, ah-ah ♪ ♪ In every ghetto ♪ ♪ Ah-ah, ah-ah, ah-ah ♪ ♪ In every ghetto ♪ ♪ Ah-ah, ah-ah, ah-ah ♪ ♪ In every ghetto ♪ ♪ Ah-ah, ah-ah, ah-ah ♪ Thank you! Thank you very much! Thank you all. Oh, wow. That was exciting, wasn’t it? Thank you, guys. Have a seat, feel comfortable, relax. I want to thank everyone in LA for a wonderful week. It’s been great here. You know what? It’s been ten years since the last time I played Los Angeles, if you can imagine. I know! I know, I’ve been gone for a very long time. And unbeknownst to you, it was a difficult ten years. I’m not gonna take you through all the agony I’ve been through, but it was tough. Some of it you might’ve seen.
I don’t know if you ever saw on TMZ the big headline: “Dave Chappelle Drunk Onstage in Detroit.” Well, if you saw it, I wasn’t drunk. I had smoked some reefer… with some rappers. Yeah. I don’t know if you know anything about hanging out with rappers, but their weed is very strong, stronger than I what I was accustomed to. The article goes on to say I was booed offstage, which is also incorrect. I was booed. I did not leave. It was a long bomb. It was a fucking nightmare. Two puffs of weed, that’s all it was. Two puffs. I never had that happen, where I take two puffs of weed, I looked at the guy next to me, I was like, “I’m gonna bomb, nigga. I can feel it.” And that guy called my name. “Dave Chappelle!” Niggas was like… Normally, when you do a comedy show– you guys don’t know what it looks like up here, but niggas be just looking up at you like… That’s how the show started. Didn’t take long for their faces to switch up like, “What the fuck?” They started looking amongst themselves. So I knew I wasn’t doing good. I don’t remember what I was saying. It just took one person to break the ice. It was a black lady with a Ford Motor shirt on. Stood up suddenly. “Fuck you, Dave Chappelle!” I said, “Excuse me?” She said, “I worked all week for this shit, and this show sucks!” And in a weird act of racial harmony, a conservative white guy stood up and backed her up. “Yeah!” The whole crowd banded together and started chanting, “We want our money back! We want our money back!” I said, “Oh, shit.” I snapped out of it. “Good people of Detroit, hear me. Hear me now. You will never get your fucking money back.” Fuck that. I said, “I’m like Evel Knievel. I get paid for the attempt. I didn’t promise this shit would be good.” “Boo!” They said, “Fuck you!”
This went on for a long time. And then, after the show, I felt so bad, I took half of the money from the show– thousands of dollars– I said, “I’m gonna give this to charity.” You know what I did? I bought $25,000 worth of bubble gum and drove around Detroit and handed it out to the homeless so they could chew it and still be hungry. I was very mad at Detroit that night. Because not only did I bomb, I had to go back to the very same room the next night and do it all over again. Fucking nightmare.
That would be like if you were having sex with a woman and, for some reason– this would never happen– but for some reason, she had a mousetrap in her pussy. You get caught in the trap. And then you’ve got to fuck her again tomorrow night. I’d still do it, but I’d be careful the next time. The old mousetrap-in-the-pussy trick, eh? Fool me once. Yeah. Yeah, it was a tough time. And I wanted to give up sometimes. I almost did give up, but then, right before I gave up, I decided not to. But I made the call. They answered the phone. “Hello? Dancing with the Stars.” I said, “Not yet. Not yet.” Yeah. If you see me on that shit, it’s over. Trust me. My spirit is broken. If you see me waiting for them judges… getting critiqued on my cha-cha, fuck that. I’ve been hanging out in– I haven’t been working in LA, but I come out here and hang out and shit. I was out here a few weeks ago. I almost got arrested. I’m not bullshitting. This happens to a lot of black people. What happened was… I was coming out of one of those nightclubs in Hollywood, and my friend saw me. I guess I was wobbling or something. So, he just rolled up. He’s a good friend of mine. He’s like, “Hey, Dave, give me the keys.” I was like, “All right, nigga, just take the keys.” And I got in the passenger’s side of my car, and he drove it. It was fine. Just talking, chopping it up. And then, on the 10, the blue-and-whites hit us. Now, I should tell you, the friend that was driving me was black, which really doesn’t have anything to do with the story other than to let you know there was fear in the car. Not my fear. I’m black, but I’m also Dave Chappelle. So, I figured, you know, shit will probably be fine. Traffic stop started off on the right foot. The cops came up to the driver’s side. “Hi. How are you guys doing tonight?” And he recognized me immediately. “Oh. Dave Chappelle.” And I looked at my friend like, “We’re getting out of this shit.” And then he says, “You guys were swerving in the lane. Do you mind just stepping out of the car for a second?” Still no cause for alarm. I looked through the rearview mirror. The body language of the arrest looked good. Just talking. So, then I started fucking with the radio. You know a traffic stop is going good if you’re listening to the radio when someone else is outside of the car. But then, when I looked back in the rearview mirror, something had gone horribly wrong. That motherfucker was back there like… And the next thing I knew, they were stuffing him in the back of the car, and I thought what anybody would think in a situation like that: “Oh, my God. What is gonna happen to me?” And the police walked up to the window. “Mr. Chappelle, we had to arrest your friend. He refused to take our breathalyzer test.” I said, “That motherfucker. Not complying? That’s odd. So, officer, what’s gonna happen to me?” “You’re fine. We’re just gonna have to ask you to step out of the car so we can impound the vehicle, and we’ll arrange for you to have a ride home.” I said, “Oh, well, no. I would rather you just give me the keys.” He said, “Mr. Chappelle, your friend already told us he’s your designated driver. We can’t let you drive in this condition.” I was like, “No, nigga, I’m good.” And then suddenly, the shit turned into Vegas. He was like… “I’ll let you blow for it.” I said, “Excuse me?” He said, “If you blow in my breathalyzer–” I said, “Oh, nigga, I thought you was trying to get your dick sucked. What’s the– Whew! Whew!” “If you blow in my breathalyzer and pass, I’ll give you the keys to the car.” I said, “Uh… set ’em up, nigga. Let’s play.” And I blew in that thing. And it made a noise. “Beep!” I said, “Uh-oh.” And he looked at it. He said, “Oh, well, Mr. Chappelle, I guess you’re free to go.” I said, “I am?” I didn’t know that thing didn’t pick up weed. I drove home on the miles an hour. Yeah, it all worked out. It all worked out. I’m one of the lucky ones.
It doesn’t work out that well for everybody. I saw that videotape of that lady that got beat up in LA in traffic. You see that shit on rush hour traffic? They beat a black woman’s ass. This woman didn’t even do anything wrong. It’s fucked up. It was so fucked up, it didn’t even go to court. The City of L.A. just gave that woman $1.5 million for her pain and suffering. That is not bad, considering that’s the same amount of money that Marcos Maidana made to fight Floyd Mayweather the second time. And this woman obviously hasn’t trained a day in her life. You can see it on the tape. She didn’t come to fight. Her guards were low. She was taking a lot of shots. Everybody’s mad at police now. I watched that– You see that shit on Netflix, Making a Murderer? The Steven Avery story. If you haven’t seen it, check it out. Steven Avery is in more trouble than any white person in the history of the United States has ever been in! In a justice system designed for him to thrive, he’s failed miserably twice. I can’t even wrap my mind around it. If Making a Murderer was about a black dude, that shit would be called Duh! Of course everything would go wrong. Seems like he did it, all right. The motherfucker even had $200,000 for his legal defense. That should get you off in Wisconsin. That’s like OJ money. All he needed to get off that he didn’t have was a single black juror. That’s all it would’ve took. Because only a black dude in the United States can look at other dudes and be like, “I think the police did this shit.” He’s fucked up in the game. That’s how OJ got off. I’ve been watching that new OJ show. I can’t get enough of that shit. Doesn’t it bring back good memories? But I forgot just how polarizing that OJ case was. And you know, I’ve met OJ Simpson on four different occasions in my life. And before the end of the show, I will tell you about each of those occasions. The first time I met OJ Simpson, I was in Santa Monica. -Santa Monica! -Yeah! I can’t believe a black dude was like, “Santa Monica!” You the last nigga I would expect to say that. Let me see your shoes. You got some Vans on, nigga? What you got? “Santa Monica!” You? At the time, I was . I had done a show, and the guy from the club came up and was like, “Hey, OJ Simpson’s here, and he said he wants to meet you.” I said, “What? Fuck yeah!” I ran down the steps, and OJ was down there. He’s like, “Hey, young man. How are you? It’s very good to meet you. And you’re doing really good work, and I hope good things happen for you in your life.” I was like, “Man, thanks, Mr. Juice.” Standing beside him, was– I don’t know the nice way to say this– his soon-to-be-slain wife. Ladies and gentlemen, man the fuck up, or you’re not gonna make it to the end of this show. Just man the fuck up. She’s dead. We already know what happened. We don’t know who did it, but we know what happened. I should tell you, that woman was very nice to me. She actually embraced me. She said, “I think you’re adorable,” and she hugged me. She goes, “Good luck to you,” and she held me for a long time. And I whispered in her ear, “Bitch, are you trying to get us both killed?” I’m just kidding. I didn’t say that, but… that was the first time, in a nutshell. It’s good to see so many… so many different people here from so many different ethnicities. Very diverse crowd. Looks like you thought Bernie Sanders was gonna come out in this motherfucker. But… surprise! It’s me. Yeah. Yeah, you know, I’m happy, really, to see black people come. A lot of black people don’t fuck with me like they used to. But there’s a few reasons you don’t see black people at my shows. One is because, obviously, black people have slower Internet connections. I mean, that would be my guess. I don’t know what– Actually, my own actions drew a wedge between me and the community I hold so dear. A couple of weeks ago, I was supposed to be in Flint, Michigan, for a charity benefit that was supposed to raise awareness for the appalling condition of the water in Flint. I don’t know if you know this, but the water in Flint is fucking poisonous. It’s actually making people sick. Hollywood people are like, “So what? At least they have water.” But this water– this water is fucked up. So, a lot of black celebrities flew into Flint, and they did a tremendous charity benefit, and I was on the schedule to appear.
Uh… So, the reason a lot of people haven’t heard about this benefit– it was the same day as the Oscars. Right, I know. So, I was on my way to the airport to go to Flint, and then Chris Rock calls me and is like, “Hey, Dave, I got a ticket for you for the Oscars. Can you make it?” And I was like, “Sure, nigga. I’m on my way to the airport right now.” Come on, man. What am I gonna do about that water? What am I, a fucking superhero? I need to have fun. I need to live, too! I didn’t fuck that water up! Stevie Wonder was there. They didn’t need me. I’m sorry, everybody. I’d never been to the Oscars. You’ve seen the movies I make. I was excited.
I knew I was gonna get into some trouble, because when I was walking on the red carpet, the black press came after me. “Excuse me, brother.” When you hear somebody call you “brother” too much, something terrible is about to happen. “Excuse me, brother. Brother?” And I looked back, and the motherfucker had a tuxedo with the kente cloth tie. I said, “Uh-oh.” He said, “I just want to ask you a couple questions.” I said, “What publication are you with?” He said, “Me? I’m with The Daily Bongo.” I said, “Daily Bongo? What the fuck? Who the fuck reads this?” He said, “Listen, brother, I just want to ask you a quick question. You understand that this year, this is a boycott for the Oscars. So, I’m just wondering what made you, of all people, cross the motherfucking picket line and be here tonight.” I said, “Boycott? Nigga, I haven’t been working in ten years. What do you mean, boycott? I’ve been on strike. Y’all niggas didn’t stop working. I had to watch fucking Key and Peele do my show every night! So, fuck The Daily Bongo,” is what I said. I went to the Oscars and had a wonderful time. I went in that fucking green room. It was filled with so many stars, I couldn’t even believe what I was seeing. Hollywood was seducing me all over again. I was sitting back there. I’m smoking, drinking with the stars.
And then two Hollywood movie producers came over, right to me. “Oh, my God. Dave Chappelle,” said the leader one. He was obviously gay. Some guys, you can just tell. The other one seemed like a money guy. Maybe he was from Texas or some shit. But the gay one was definitely the leader because he did all the talking. And then he hit me with: “So, David, um… do you have any movie ideas that you would like to pursue?” The truth is, I don’t. But if you know the game, you’re not supposed to tell motherfuckers you don’t have ideas. I was like, “Yeah, man. I got plenty of ideas.” And he called my bluff. “Really? Like what?” “Huh? Oh. Um… um…”
And then I just started making up shit that I thought maybe he’d like to see. I said, “I have a superhero idea.” He goes, “Really?” I go, “Yeah. He’s a– He’s a gay superhero.” He was like, “Really?! What’s it called?” “Huh? Oh, it’s called– It’s called Same Hero, New Boots. It’s about a gay sous-chef in San Francisco… that gets bit by a radioactive rat on his shift when he’s taking out the trash and is blessed with powers beyond his wildest dreams, supersonic gay kind of powers. And he starts saving everybody in San Francisco. But at first, he only saves gay people. Later, he saves everybody, and the whole city just falls in love with him. The only problem is, no one remembers him when he saves them.” “Well, I don’t understand. Why wouldn’t they remember him?” I said, “Because, dummy, he’s gay. He keeps changing his outfit. People come up– ‘Thanks for saving me, sir. What’s your name anyway?’ He’s like, ‘Same Hero, New Boots!’ And that motherfucker flies away.”
He was like, “I like it a lot.” The Texan didn’t like that shit at all. He was upset. “That’s impossible, a gay superhero.” I said, “What? Well, I have others. I have a superhero you’d love, ’cause he’s stronger than Superman and he fights for truth, justice and the American way, like Superman, but more than Superman. He beats up Mexicans for no reason.” The Texan’s like, “You got my attention.” I’m like, “Man, this motherfucker’s so strong, he can fly and do all this great shit. Only problem with this guy is he can’t even activate his powers unless he touches– unless he touches a woman’s vagina. Not a long touch, just a couple of pats.” He said, “Well, what’s the problem with that?” I said, “The problem, sir, is that our hero is not a handsome man. And he’s often short on cash. So, whenever trouble breaks out, he has to run around the city and convince women to let him pat their vaginas. ‘Please, miss! That building’s on fire. Can I pat your vagina? Quickly. People are dying!’ But he can’t tell them exactly why. ‘Eww! Get away! You’re gross!’ ‘Please, miss! People are dying! Just a couple of pats!’ ‘Eww! Gross! Get away!’ So, he rapes them.
I know, I know. That’s the dilemma for the audience. Because he rapes, but he saves a lot of lives. And he saves way more than he rapes, and he only rapes to save. But he does rape.” I didn’t realize it, but the whole green room was looking at us. All the celebrities were disgusted. “Ohh.” That guy from Texas was like, “Here’s my card. Call me on Monday.” That worked out. The second time I met OJ Simpson. It was right after the trial of the century. There I was, now a young man of probably 23. OJ Simpson was the most famous, or infamous, face on planet Earth. I was in a restaurant in Beverly Hills with my agents. I wasn’t alone in the restaurant, but I was alone. I was the only black person in the restaurant. And in the 90’s, that felt very uncomfortable. Now I tend to enjoy it at this age. I was having dinner with my agents, celebrating a deal that they told me was lucrative, but I later learned fucking sucked. And suddenly, a group of women walked by. Every race was in that group. Black, white, Asian, Latina, white, white… and white again. They were all gorgeous. I watched them walk by. Then I saw a familiar face. Al Cowlings, the man from the infamous Bronco chase, walked by and embraced one of the women, and they walked towards the door. Couldn’t believe what I saw. And then, close behind him, was OJ Simpson, newly released from jail. The restaurant fell still. I was shocked. I didn’t mean to say it out loud, but it just came out. “OJ!” He stopped, turned around to see who said it, saw my black face and correctly assumed it was me. I was sitting in the corner of the booth. He leaned over all the white people I was having dinner with and shook my hand. “How are you, young man?” He looked in my eyes, and I could see in his eyes that he didn’t remember meeting me the first time. And then he walked away. And I looked back at my agents, and all of them had nothing short of disgust on their faces. And the only one with the courage to voice their disgust was a woman named Sharon who used to represent me. “How could you?” she said. “How could you shake hands with that murderer?” I said, “Sharon, with all due respect, that murderer ran for over 11,000 yards. And he was acquitted. So, you know, fuck it. The glove didn’t fit. The glove didn’t fit. Get over yourself.” Some people can’t do that. Some people just can’t get over themselves. Gay people have a hard time doing that recently. Here we go. Here comes the deep water. No, recently I’ve noticed that. I noticed it with that Manny Pacquiao controversy. Yeah, it was– Now, in the gay community’s defense, Manny Pacquiao said some outlandish shit about gay people, very not nice things that I won’t repeat, but there was biblical verses and some analogies to animals. It wasn’t a good look. Nike took his shoes immediately. Which I thought was a little harsh. A little harsh, you know what I mean? Just ’cause he’s Asian. You know what I mean? How the fuck are you gonna take the shoes off an Asian dude to appease a gay dude? You know what I mean? No? You don’t know what I mean. But Asian people kind of know what I mean. No? No Asians in the front? No? No, this is what I mean. Look, you’re an Asian dude– I say this with no disrespect.
We’re all Americans, right? And we can agree that America has a huge body count all over the world, but nowhere more than Asia. Literally, if you look at history, recently, we have bombed the masculinity out of an entire continent. We dropped two atomic bombs on fucking Japan, and they’ve been drawing Hello Kitty and shit ever since. There’s a lot of lady-boys in the wake of our bombs. And I know these things because my wife is Asian. She’s Filipino. All right, okay. So, that explains it. Now you know why you see me at all those Filipino events. I’m not there picking up pussy. I’m dropping some off. I take my wife to all that shit. I took my wife to see Pacquiao fight Mayweather. We sat ringside, okay? That– Yeah, that was a quiet car ride home, that’s what that was.
But if you know what’s popping in the Philippines, you know that they got a whole generation of kids in the Philippines growing up without their mothers. Yes. A lot of women in the Philippines go to the Arabian Peninsula, they come to the United States, they make all their money here, they send all that money back home, which is still one of the number-one staples in the Philippines’ economy– money that the expats send back to the Philippines. The men, on the other hand, are left rearing children, twiddling their thumbs, waiting on their wives’ checks. These men have been fucking emasculated.
And then suddenly, a boxer rises from amongst them and reinstates their manhood with his motherfucking fist. This is not the guy you’re supposed to ask, “What do you think of homosexuals?” He’s not your champ. Shit. That’s why I don’t have a sneaker deal, ’cause if you say something that people don’t like, they’ll take your fucking shoes off.
If Martin Luther King had a sneaker deal, we’d still be on the back of the bus. It’s true. The Nike exec would come up– “Hi, Martin. Uh… we need you to tone down the talk of civil rights and blacks being humans. It’s upsetting our Southern distributors.” “But I don’t understand. I thought that’s why I had a sneaker deal in the first place.” “Not quite. Really, it’s a walking shoe. And we like the marching, but… Try to understand.” Fuck that shit.
You know, I get it, though. I understand why gay people are mad, and I empathize. You know what? I’m just telling you this as a black dude. I support your movement. But if you want to take some advice from a Negro, pace yourself. These things take a while. Just ’cause they passed the law doesn’t mean they’re gonna like it. Brown v. Board of Education was in. Somebody called me a nigger in traffic last Wednesday. It takes a minute. My wife’s friend Stewart told me that. My wife has a lot of gay friends. Stewart’s their leader. She has a lot of gay friends. And I don’t like ’em. Not ’cause they’re gay. I’m just judging them on the merits of their character. They’re just not nice dudes. They’re fucking rude houseguests. They’re sitting on my couch, giggling with my wife, eating my motherfucking macaroons. Then I come in, and they act like the party’s over. “Hey, Stewart. What’s going on?” This guy talks to me the way a cat would speak if a cat could talk. “Hi, David.” “Stewart, what’s all the beef, man? What’s going–” He always wants to have some kind of gay political argument. The last one was about a petition in federal court to take the words “husband and wife” out of the law. I said, “Why would you want those words out of the law?” He said, “Because it discriminates against same-sex couples.” I was like, “Niggas, please, save me the semantics. Just trust me. Take your chips and get the fuck out of the casino. You’re about to crap out! Just go outside, talk that over amongst yourselves, and whichever one of you is gayer, that’s the wife.” No, no. Stewart didn’t like that. Stewart educates me about this movement. I didn’t even know shit about it. He told me it’s called “LBGTQ!” I was like, “What the fuck is the ‘Q’?” Does that even make sense? “Q”? Turns out “Q” is like the vowels. That shit is sometimes “Y.” It’s for gay dudes that don’t really know they’re gay. Like prison fags who are like, “What? I’m not gay, nigga. I’m just sucking these dicks to pass the time. I’m not ‘G.’ I’m ‘Q.’ Ugh.” I think– Okay, again, of all those letters, the “T” has the toughest road ahead. In fact, I think the “T” should stand for “Tough road ahead.” They’ve got the longest mental gap to bridge. That’s all I’m saying. Because whenever I see one of them Ts on the street, I don’t mind them, but I’ll be like, “Man, I miss Bruce.” I’m sorry, guys. I’m 42. I remember Bruce Jenner. Before the Kardashians, before all that, this motherfucker was a white American superhero. It was amazing. He was beating Africans at track and field. We’d never seen anything like it. He was on my cereal box growing up. You know how much of that cereal I ate? Nigga, I didn’t know he was gonna do that. I knew before you guys knew. I heard things on the street in Hollywood. You’d just be out, see people. “Hey, what’s up, Kanye? Why the long face?” “Nigga, you’ll see. I got two mother-in-laws now.” And when I heard he was gonna do it, I was scared. I didn’t think the public was ready. I didn’t think the media was ready. And you know what? I was wrong. Not only did the public embrace him, but the media was nice. I’d never seen anything like it. “Welcome to the world, Caitlyn. So long, Bruce. Hello, Caitlyn.” I was shocked! Is this happening?
Wait a minute. Is this a time in American history where an American can make a decision for themselves, and even though other Americans don’t understand it, they’ll support it and let this person live a happy life? Is this what’s happening? If it is, then good for America. That’s Dave Chappelle, the American. Although, Dave Chappelle, the black American, he was a little jealous. I was like, “How the fuck are transgender people beating black people in the discrimination Olympics?” If the police shot half as many transgenders as they did niggas last year, there’d be a fucking war in LA. I know black dudes in Brooklyn– hard street motherfuckers– that wear high heels just to feel safe. Transgenders are gangsters. I used to do business with a transgender in Hollywood. Man, everybody would be scared of her in the boardroom. She’d walk in there, newly-minted woman, high heels, purse. Wouldn’t say anything to us, just walk around the conference table, looking mean and shit. Then she’d walk to the head of the conference table, stare at us all, reach in her purse, pull her old dick out and throw it on the table. “Let’s talk business, gentlemen.” “Aaah!” Shit is scary as fuck. If your best friend pitched that to you, you’d be horrified. “Yo, nigga, let’s go to the hospital and cut our dicks off and make pussies out of them shits.” “What?! Can’t we just get matching jackets or tattoos or something? You sure that’s what you want to do?” “There’s only way to find out, nigga. Wu-Tang! Pow! Pow! Let’s go to the club and trick niggas into fucking us. Yeah.” The third time I met OJ Simpson— The third time I met OJ Simpson, I was doing great in life. I’d just finished the second season of Chappelle’s Show. Man, those were good days. I was playing a comedy club in Miami, The Improv. I don’t know if you’ve ever been, but if you have, you’d know the door for the green room is right on the stage. Can you imagine such a thing? If I walked out of the door of the green room, bam, I was right here, right from the dressing room. And I did that. I walked out, and the whole crowd was like, “Hooray!” And I looked– ma’am, as close as you are to me– I saw him as soon as I came out: The Juice. And I saw recognition in his eyes, and it filled me with pride that he knew who I was. I didn’t acknowledge his presence because it was a white audience, and I didn’t want to start a panic. But I did my show. The show went great. I said, “Good night, everyone.” They all said, “Yay!” And I didn’t say nothing to OJ, but I just gave him the signal to let him know I knew he was there. And I walked into the green room, and OJ was already in there! I was like, “How the fuck is this possible?” I was scared. And then my friends came in, and we all started talking. We sat down on the couch. And I’m just telling you what I saw with my own eyes. You can believe me or not believe me. But in my experience, OJ Simpson– one of the nicest men I’d ever met. He was nice to me. He was nice to my friends. The conversation was filled with warmth and levity, humor and wisdom. We talked for minutes, and then suddenly, the Juice said, “You know what? I’ve got to be going. But it’s good to see you again, and I’m glad things went so well.” I said, “Thanks, Juice.” And my friends said, “Yeah, goodbye, Mr. Juice.” They were new to the game. He said, “No. Thank you… for your hospitality. Good night, guys.“ And we said, “Good night.” And he just walked out of the room. And as soon as the door closed, we all looked at each other like, “That nigga did that shit. Did you feel that? I could feel like… murder in the room.” Well, you young heads missed that shit. You’re all too young. You don’t remember that. -How old are you, young, man? You. -Twenty-four. Twenty-four? You don’t know shit. You don’t know shit! You gotta Google shit that I lived through. See, this is why I lock motherfuckers’ phones up. Seriously. Because the young kids, you guys need to take a break from that– We all need to break just from that technology, just for a minute. You know, I’m from a different time, young man. A dark time to you. I’m from a time that I didn’t even used to know who was on the phone until I answered the shit. Like, when tragedy used to strike.
I remember I was 12 years old, and the teacher wheeled a television set into the classroom. You remember these days? And she turned it on to one of three channels. And she said, “Class, the space shuttle is taking off, and we’re all gonna watch it take off.” Man, that shit was going great for like, three to five minutes. That’s right. You remember. It fucking exploded! Right on television. Everybody on board, dead. Immediately presumed dead. It was so bad, the teacher looked at all the kids and was like… “You can go home.” It was a goddamn national tragedy. This was Cold War America. The Russians were laughing at us. My point is, for a guy your age wouldn’t even know the pain, because in your generation, it’s like the space shuttle blows up every fucking day. How can you care about anything when you know every goddamn thing? I’m getting over one cop shooting, and then another one happens, and then another one happens, and another one happens. I’m crying about Paris, and then Brussels happens. I can’t keep track of all this shit. So you just give the fuck up. That’s the hallmark of your generation, and that’s fucked up, because your generation lives in the most difficult time in human history. This is the age of spin. The age where nobody knows what the fuck they’re even looking at. Did you know that Planned Parenthood was for abortions? It’s for people that don’t plan things out at all. That’s right. So, a guy your age doesn’t really know how he feels. Are you pro-choice? Are you anti-consequences? What does it all really mean? It’s easier not to care for you. But for us, we were trained to care. We were raised that way. I used to watch a fucking cartoon when I was growing up called Care Bears. It was about a fucking group of teddy-bear people. They were like teddy bears, but they were like people, and they were all different colors, and they all fucking just walked around, caring. They cared about each other and everything else. They all had different designs on their stomachs, and the designs told you something about what they might be like inside. Very, very loving group of beings. And when shit got real bad, as nice as those teddy bears were, they didn’t get mean faces. They got determined. Hmm! And the leader would say, “Come on, guys. It’s time for the Care Bear Stare!” Remember that shit? And them little teddy bears would lock arms… and stare at the problem– and I’m not even bullshitting– actual love would shoot out of their chests… and would dispel anything that was fucked up. And when we grew up, we wanted to be like those bears. And then we got our hearts broken, because we found out that life wasn’t gonna let us do that and that it’s impossible to shoot love out of your chest. However, I have shot love onto somebody’s chest before. I do it all the time. It’s the next best thing. You kids don’t know. Your generation is just determined to be angry, mad. Everybody’s mad. Back when we were growing up, only black people were mad. Now everybody’s just trying to get in on the act. I try to think to myself, “When did everyone get mad?” And then I realize this happened before we were born. This is a long way to go, but… it probably started in the Second World War. Think about it. All these black men, millions of black men, leave the United States for the first time, go over to Europe with America’s Armed Forces and fight the Nazis and make more money fighting Nazis than they ever dreamed they would make in the United States. And a lot of those men, while they were in Europe– just to be real, not to be crass– a lot of them probably got their dicks sucked by white women. I’m sorry, ladies and gentlemen. This was World War II Europe, and these were desperate times, and penises were being sucked for shoelaces and chocolate and very frivolous things. And it’s very hard to come back to America and sit on the back of the bus after you’ve been in the South of France, getting your dick sucked for a Crunch bar or some crazy shit like that. That’s a life-changing experience. And while that was happening in Europe, here in America, for the first time, women entered the workforce en masse, by the millions. All the men were gone. Someone had to run the factory. The ladies did it. That’s right. This was the first generation of American women to have independent income en masse, and when the men came back, the women weren’t the same. American women had grown. They were uttering phrases that no woman on Earth had ever spoken before, things like, “No” and “Shut the fuck up” and “I don’t feel like it.”
And then behind the scenes of that, there was a little-known government agency that started testing mind control drugs on the American public. They fucked up. They tested it for 12 years. They didn’t realize these drugs were not mind-controlling. They were mind-expanding. It was LSD and mescaline and shit like that. And for the first time, there was a new school of thought that was chemically induced that made people question the very society they lived in. By 1960, the President of the United States was only 42 years old. Can you imagine? DMX is older than that. And he was gonna usher in a new era of peace. He was gonna avoid the Cold War. He was gonna end segregation. And they blew his fucking brains out in front of everyone in Dallas. This country was never the same. There were seven more major assassinations in the ’60s. Anyone that stood up and said anything was shot down in the streets like a fucking dog. Kennedy, Kennedy, King, X, Evers, on and on. You didn’t even have to be famous. You could be a college student at Kent State, or in Mississippi, protesting the Vietnam War, and they shot them, too. The ’70s were a wild era. And while all this was going on… Bill Cosby raped 54 people. Holy shit. That’s a lot of rapes, man. This guy’s putting up real numbers. He’s like the Steph Curry of rape. Man, that’s a lot of rapes. Fifty-four? If he had raped less people… that’s still two dozen rapes! Don’t forget, each one of these rapes has eight hours of sleep in it. Ladies and gentlemen, that’s over hours of rape. It only takes hours to get a pilot’s license. If rapes were aircrafts, this nigga is Top Gun for sure.
Yeah, that’s a tough one. And I was onstage not too long ago. I was in Syracuse, New York. Yeah. Well, yeah, for Syracuse. But the show didn’t go so good… all because I was talking about Bill Cosby a little bit. Not a little bit. I’ll be honest. I talked about him for like, minutes. And a woman stood up in the back of the room, and she screamed out, “You are a fucking asshole for saying these things!” “I know.” Instantly, I felt bad. Not bad about what I was saying. I just felt bad like, “Oh, that’s too bad she doesn’t like the show.” I didn’t realize it at first, but not only did she say that, she was rushing the stage. By the time I saw her, I just saw this shadowy figure fucking charging up the aisle towards me in full fight mode. I was horrified. I said, “Oh, my God! I’m gonna kick this bitch in the face.” Lucky for me, I didn’t have to. Security tackled her. But it was a really fucking horrifying scene. A scuffle ensued. And then, finally, she screamed out to me, “Women suffer!” I said, “I know.” And, ladies, I need you to know… that I know. I need you to know. Seriously, there’s a lot of men in this room that identify themselves as feminists. I would include myself in that. Don’t ever forget, we all have mothers and daughters and sisters and wives, and we want to see all these women do well and not be held back by their gender. There’s a lot of men like that in this room. There’s a lot of men like that in the world. Or as we are known on the streets, bitch-ass niggas. But as this woman was wrestling and screaming at me, I started to take offense. And I’ll be honest, race was involved. She was a young white woman. Well-intentioned, but just not thinking it all the way through. “Bitch, how the fuck are you going to yell at a black man about discrimination?” She didn’t get it. She just kept going. “Women suffer!” “I know.” “Women suffer!” “Same team.” “Women suffer!” “I know.” And this is when she went too far: “We suffer just like you.” “Slow your roll, bitch. You suffer, yes, but not like me. Not like us.” She goes, “Suffering is suffering. What’s the difference?” I said, “Come on, white woman, you know what it is. You was in on the heist. You just don’t like your cut.” You suffer, I suffer. You suffer, I suffer. That’s how it works.
Can’t do comparative suffering. If you’re hungry, and your friend says, “You know, people are starving in Africa,” “So what, nigga? I still want lunch.” Black people know about comparative suffering, and you know that it’s a fucking dead-end game. Blacks and Jews do that shit to each other all the time. You ever played Who Suffered More with a Jewish person? It’s a tough game. Whenever you think you’ve got the Jewish guy on the ropes, that motherfucker will be like, “Well, don’t forget about Egypt.” “Egypt?! God damn, nigga, I didn’t know we was going all the way back to Egypt.” What the fuck is wrong with her? What does she think? Does she think that I don’t know that rape is wrong? Does she think that maybe I don’t have empathy for Bill Cosby’s alleged victims? And I would be remiss if I didn’t remind you that technically these are all still allegations. Although, I admit it looks very bad. Perhaps if she looked at it correctly, she would have empathy for me, the man she was attacking, a 42-year-old black comedian.
Obviously, Bill Cosby was a hero to me. And she doesn’t know what it feels like to think that your hero might’ve done something so heinous, my God, you can’t imagine. It’d be as if you heard that chocolate ice cream itself… had raped 54 people. You’d say to yourself, “Oh, man, but I like chocolate ice cream. I don’t want it to rape.” Didn’t want to believe it. At first, I didn’t believe it. I said, “These people are obviously trying to destroy Dr. Cosby’s rich legacy.” Even 34 allegations into it, I was still like, “Man… he probably only raped ten or 11 of those people.” I know, I know. But it’s really tough. You guys are young. Imagine if you found out 40 years from now that Kevin Hart raped 54 people. You’d be like, “Oh, my God.” The only one that would believe that would be Katt Williams. He’d be like, “I knew that motherfucker was up to something! I knew Kevin had raped those people.” You know, I was mad at Kevin, too, though. You know why? Okay, first of all, I didn’t even know Kevin was as successful as he was. I found that shit out the hard way. I was at home when my son busted in. He said, “Dad, I need $250.” He’s only years old, so I freaked out. “What’s going on, nigga? Is somebody trying to kill you?” He said, “No, no. Kevin Hart’s coming to town, and I wanted to see his show.” I said, “How much are the tickets?” He said, “They’re $125.” I said, “God damn! Mine are only 80.” I said, “Why do you need $250, then?” He goes, “Because I want to go with you, Dad. Please? And there it is. So, I took him to the show. And we go, we sit right up front. The lights go down, and one opening act after another goes on. Then Kevin takes the stage. The crowd goes fucking nuts. Thousands of people. I was furious. The longer the show went on, the madder I got. Because his show was fucking outstanding. It was maddening. These people were fucking holding their stomachs. My son was slapping his knee. I’m like, “Damn, nigga, I do this, too.” Kevin says, “Good night.” The crowd goes crazy. And then everyone starts walking to his door, and the lights come on, and then my son is just standing there, looking at an empty stage. People are pushing past me, and nobody’s recognizing me. I’m like, “Man, this place fucking sucks!” I said, “Come on, son, let’s get out of here.” Then my son looks back at me and says, “Dad, please. Please, I have to meet him.” I was like, “Oh, my God.” So, I took him backstage. I’ve known Kevin for years, but can you believe I was scared to knock on his dressing room door? I almost said… “Son, I haven’t seen him for a long time.” And one of Kevin’s goons opened the door. “Hey, what’s up, Dave Chappelle? What are you doing, man? It’s good to see you, brother. What are you doing in this area? This is a terrible area.” I’m like, “Actually, I live around here. Listen… is Kevin here? My son just wanted to meet him real quick.” “I don’t know, ’cause Kevin’s about to eat dinner.” Just then, Kevin came around the corner to see who it was. “What? Oh, shit! What’s up, Dave? Come on back. I was just about to have dinner. I don’t know if you guys ate, but you’re welcome to join me if you’d like.” And then my son pushed passed me. It was some cold shit. He goes, “Actually, Mr. Hart, we haven’t eaten in several hours.” Man, Kevin took us into his back room. This guy had a fucking spread. It was Tuesday night. This motherfucker was having Sunday dinner. There were steaks, chops, corn with butter all over it. My son was eating all fast, embarrassing me. I was like, “Slow down, son.” He was like… Then I looked over in the corner, and there was a box of custom-made jerseys for the local team. Each one was hand-stitched, and on the back, they stitched on “K-Hart” on all of them. Kevin saw me staring at that box, and he went over and grabbed one of them jerseys, and he walked right to my son. He said, “Hey, little man. I want you to have this.” And my son was like, “Thanks, Mr. Hart.” This is when I got mad. He goes, “If your father ever makes you mad, put that on.” And he walked out. Oh, that was some cold shit. Then I realized– I looked up what Kevin made on Google. I couldn’t believe that shit. Kevin is the first comedian that a Drake song could be about. Kevin could walk around his house and sing “All Me,” and the whole song would still be true. “♪ Got everything, I got everything ♪ ♪ I cannot complain, I cannot ♪ ♪ I don’t even know How much I really made ♪ ♪ I forgot, it’s a lot ♪ ♪ Fuck that, never mind what I got ♪” And his wife will be like, “Kevin, come to bed!” He’ll be like… “♪ Ho, shut the fuck up ♪ ♪ I got way too much– ♪” You know how much money you have to have to tell a girl to shut the fuck up? I have “Quiet, please” money at best. I’d have to take a loan out for “Shut the fuck up.” “Shut the fuck up–” That’s Jay Z money. And Beyoncé got “No, you shut the fuck up” money. Let’s not forget. Let’s not forget. I’ve never met Bill Cosby, so I’m not defending him. Let’s just remember that he has a valuable legacy that I can’t just throw away. I remember that he’s the first black man to ever win an Emmy in television. I also remember that he’s the first guy to make a cartoon with black characters where their lips and noses were drawn proportionately. I remember that he had a television show that got numbers equivalent to the Super Bowl every Thursday night. And I remember that he partnered up with a clinical psychologist to make sure that there was not one negative image of African-Americans on his show. I’m telling you, that’s no small thing. I’ve had a television show. I wouldn’t have done that shit. He gave tens of millions of dollars to African-American institutions of higher learning, and is directly responsible for thousands of black kids going to college. Not just the ones he raped. Here comes the kicker. You ready? Here’s the fact that I heard, but haven’t confirmed. I heard that when Martin Luther King stood on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial and said he had a dream, he was speaking into a PA system that Bill Cosby paid for. So, you understand what I’m saying? The point is this: He rapes, but he saves. And he saves more than he rapes. But he probably does rape. Thank you very much! Good night! ♪ Ah-ah, ah-ah ♪ ♪ In every ghetto ♪ ♪ Ah-ah, ah-ah, ah-ah ♪ ♪ In every ghetto ♪ ♪ Ah-ah, ah-ah, ah-ah ♪ ♪ In every ghetto ♪ ♪ Ah-ah, ah-ah, ah-ah ♪ ♪ In every ghetto ♪ Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait! I forgot. The fourth time I met OJ Simpson. The fourth time is not the funniest time, but it was the last time I’d see the Juice. For some reason, I was at the Kentucky Derby. It’s a very long story. This is right after I quit Chappelle’s Show in spectacular fashion. There was a party hosted by Michael Jordan, and every athlete I’ve ever admired was in that room. Yes. And then I saw a familiar face by the bar, standing there, drinking alone. It was Chris Tucker. Now… you have to remember, at this time, we were both technically missing. And we went over, and we’re talking with one another, and motherfuckers were amazed to see us together. Seeing me and Chris Tucker at that point would be like seeing Bigfoot riding a unicorn. You wouldn’t believe that’s what you were seeing. And then, through all the gawkers, a familiar face pushed through the crowd. Here he was again. The Juice. He had his camera ready. He was like, “Dave, Chris. Good to see you guys. Hey, come on, guys. Let’s all get together for a picture.” And at the same time, me and Chris were like, “No. I can’t do that. Sorry, Juice, my career is too flimsy to survive a picture with you.” That’s the end. Good night. ♪ Ah-ah, ah-ah ♪ ♪ In every ghetto ♪ ♪ Ah-ah ♪ ♪ Revolution ♪ ♪ Ah-ah, ah-ah, ah-ah ♪ ♪ In every ghetto… ♪ One last thing. Before you go, I just wanted to acknowledge for the real comedy fans. We can’t not acknowledge it. We lost a fucking juggernaut in comedy this week. So, I’m just shouting out the family and friends of Garry Shandling. Much love to you guys. My sincerest condolences. And for the hip-hop fans in the building… put two fingers up in the air for A Tribe Called Quest and my man Phife Dawg. May he rest in peace forever and ever. Thank you for that beautiful music. Good night, everybody. Thank you. Twos up! Twos up! Hands up, hands up! Twos up! We’re gonna do this for Phife! I need everybody to rap with me right now! ♪ Can I kick it? ♪ ♪ Yes, you can ♪ ♪ Can I kick it? ♪ ♪ Yes, you can ♪ ♪ Can I kick it? ♪ ♪ Yes, you can ♪ ♪ Well, I’m gone ♪ ♪ Go on, then ♪ ♪ Can I kick it? To my Tribe that flows in layers ♪ ♪ Right now, Phife is a poem sayer ♪ ♪ At times, I’m a studio conveyor ♪ ♪ Mr. Dinkins Would you please be my mayor? ♪ ♪ You’ll be doing us a really big favor ♪ ♪ Boy, this track really has a lot Of flavor ♪ ♪ When it comes to rhythms Quest is your savior ♪ ♪ Follow us for the funky behavior ♪ ♪ Make a note On the rhythm we gave ya ♪  ♪ Feel free, drop your pants Check your hair ♪ ♪ Do you like the garments That we wear? ♪ ♪ I instruct you to be the obeyer ♪ ♪ A rhythm recipe that you’ll savor ♪ ♪ Doesn’t matter if you’re minor Or major ♪ ♪ Yes, the Tribe of the game We’re the player ♪ ♪ As you inhale Like a breath of fresh air ♪ I’m rich, biatch!"
Hasan Minhaj,"[theme music: orchestral hip-hop] [crowd roars] What’s up? Davis, what’s up? I’m home. I had to bring it back here. Netflix said, “Where do you want to do the special? LA, Chicago, New York?” I was like, “Nah, son. Davis California.” [cheering, whooping] This has, um… This has been a very good year for me. I recently got married, you guys. Thank you, thank you. Thank you. I need the claps. It’s a very heavy ring. Very heavy. It was a reverse Lord of the Rings situation. I got a ring and then lost my powers, which is a very different Lord of the Rings. “Listening? Compromise? Take the ring, Sam.” The movie is done in eight minutes. It’s not a 90-hour saga. We just celebrated our one-year anniversary, so it’s one year down, forever to go. Which is terrifying to say. But you know what’s great? Now, it’s just kind of liberating. Because I don’t give a fuck about any of my single friends. I don’t care about any of you and it feels great. Because you guys are at home, just swiping for love, and complaining. “Oh, how do you find people?” “Dimples? Off with his head!” Like a god-damn emperor. “Brunettes? Not for me.” I’m like, “You work at Subway. You don’t deserve so much choice.” We’re getting soft. You realize my parents physically never saw each other? Thirty years ago in a town in India, population 990,000 – that’s a small town – my dad heard a buzz in the streets about this woman named Seema, my mom. And, like, Seema was that chick, you guys. In ’82, Seema could get… Look at that red langa. Killing it! She was like the iPhone 8. “Have you heard of Seema? She’s slim. Her family owns a camera.” My dad was like, “A camera?” So he runs to my grandfather’s house and lays it on the line. “I’m going to America. I want to marry Seema. YOLO.” In ten minutes, the man married a woman he had never laid eyes on. You understand? That’s Tinder with no photos. [laughter] “I want that for the rest of my life. I hope she has a good personality. Let’s move to the US where we’re the only people that know each other.” I’m so grateful for that decision. Najmi marries Question Mark, they come to the States, I come out. Popping out of your mom is like real estate. It’s all about location. I popped out here. Anybody brown, we popped out here, we made it. We’re the rappers that made it. What’s wild is, I never even knew how the whole X-Men Origins story went down. It’s crazy, because we know nothing about our parents and our parents know nothing about us. “Dad, your favorite color?” “Stanford!” “What? No.” “No, I want to know more about you.” “Why? Get into Stanford.”
And I think it’s just that, like, immigrants love secrets. Right? They love them. They love bottling them up deep down, and unleashing them on you later when it’s no longer relevant. “Mom’s a ninja, Dad’s a communist? Why are you telling me this right now?” Every conversation with my dad is like an M. Night Shyamalan movie. It’s just 90 minutes of build-up to no payoff. [laughs and applause] “That’s the ending?”
So my dad marries my mom, they come to the States, they have me, in Davis, California, but my mom has to go back to India to finish up med school. So the first eight years, it was just me and my dad. Just the two of us trying to make it in America. Minus all the unconditional love. Brown love is very conditional. In the photo he’s like, “You had better get all As.” Like, let’s be real. I grew up here. Like, Pioneer… I grew up here. Yeah. [huge cheer] But Davis was, like, super white. Kind of like tonight. [laughter]
Roll call was a problem. It was a big deal for a lot of us. – Like, what’s your name? – Jasura. Okay. What would you get? – Jasuriah. – Jasuriah? Yeah. I would get, like, “Hanson Minaja…” “Sahan Minha.” “Saddam Hussein.” It was my English teacher. “I’m not Saddam.” – What’s your name? – Biju. – What would you get? – A blank stare. A blank stare? I’m the only brown kid at school, Dad is the only brown guy at work. In a weird way that brings us together, and we have to do everything together. Try to understand immigrant fathers.
I still can’t understand some of you. There are uncles here. None of you guys are smiling. I don’t get it. You’re going to die. Laugh. Why aren’t you laughing? You’re always stressed and always tired. You could wake up any immigrant father from a 12-hour nap, and they’d say… [angry yawn] “Why do I have to pay taxes?” You’re like, “Jesus…” We’d do everything…
I remember being in the grocery store. And we’d be walking through the aisles, and my dad would pick up yogurt. “Ah, yogurt.” Or milk. Just like, “Ah.” And I’d look at him and be like, “Oh, man. Dad hates yogurt.” [laughter] “He hates milk.” But I get that look, now. Life is tough and sometimes you don’t know what you’re doing. He has a little kid and I’m not making his life any easier. I’m picking up soda and I’m like, “Ah!” “Don’t do that.” “I’m going to live forever!” Then I would trip on my Velcro shoes and I would drop the soda and it would explode. And then my dad would do what most brown parents do. He would check to see if the coast is clear… and he’d slap the shit out of me. [laughter] I love it. Thank you. Thank you. Pockets were acknowledging that. And for the liberal white guilt, immigrants aren’t going to hit their children the way you do. Americans hit on the arm and bruise the body. Immigrants slap your face and bruise your soul. It’s Guantanamo of the mind. And I know some of you guys are like, “Hey, this is Davis, okay? I listen to NPR. Ira Glass says children are our future.” Have you seen the show called The Slap? This is a real show on NBC. This is a real show about a white kid that gets slapped at a birthday party. Are you fucking kidding? Thirteen episodes for this kid? Are you kidding me? Do you know when brown kids get slapped? Every brown birthday party. And usually it’s the kid whose birthday it is, and we stand there and point and laugh. We go, “Ah, Biju got slapped on his birthday!” And that’s what makes us tough and resilient. It’s why we become cardiologists and win spelling bees. Slapping is important. It elevates your game.
You ever seen an Indian kid win a spelling bee? Incredible! Ice water in the veins. [laughter] That kid won’t choke on camera. He’s been slapped on camera. – Of course he can spell “knaidel”. – Knaidel. Look at that face. Nothing. Nothing! He’s 12 years old. Nothing! This kid just won $30,000 cash. Nothing. People ask, “Where does that come from?” Look at this kid’s parents. Your son just won the Scripps National Spelling Bee. Look at his brother. His brother is like, “I’m fucked. I’m fucked. The bar is way too high. I should kill myself.” People say, “Where’s Bobby Jindal from?” That’s where he comes from. That is an Indian sociopath. [raucous laughter] I know what happens when I talk about this. People say, “Your parents don’t love you.” I think our parents love us. We have great fathers. I just think our fathers didn’t download all the great dad software. There are just a few apps missing. Birthdays aren’t their thing. Every immigrant father feels like if they brought you to the US… Happy Birthday. Starbucks, Wi-Fi, freeways, happy birthday. No more birthdays. Go be president. At an interview, this lady said, “Describe your earliest birthday memory.” I was like, “Do I have to?” So I’m six, I’m turning seven. My dad wakes me up super early in the morning. “Hasan, get up! Get in the Camry.” The immigrant car of choice. We get in the Camry, we’re driving from Davis to Sacramento. There’s one mall in the entire area. Arden. We get to this intersection, and I look to my left, and it’s the one place every kid dreams about. Toys ‘R’ Us. I was like, “Oh, shit! Dad saw the Toys ‘R’ Us catalog on my wall. He saw my vision board. He saw the blue BMX bike I wanted. He’s here to surprise me. Turn left. Turn left. Turn… left.” Then he turns right, and I’m like, “Home Depot? No!” I’m like, “Why are we here? Do you know what day it is?” “It’s Saturday.” “No, it’s my birthday. Did you forget?” He’s like, “Hasan, how could I forget that it’s your birthday? That’s why I brought you here. So you could pick the door handle for the bathroom.” [laughter] And I was like, “Why don’t you have me pick out the toilet? You are shitting on my dreams.” I didn’t say that. I would have gotten a slap. I wanted to say that. That’s when I realized there’s a generational gap between us and our parents. You’re going to fight with your parents, and there’s a finite number of hands you can play. You know about this. Not going to be a doctor? That’s a hand. Marry a white girl? Boom! That’s a big hand. [laughter, applause] I could have been like, “Dad, fight me. I want that bike.” But I was like, “Hang on to your cards. You’ll need them later.” Like, I had vision as a six-year-old. And my mom, she would come and visit, and just kill the mom game. One year, she came to school and brought me a Ghostbusters proton pack. The wheelie thing, the backpack, the gun that catches ghosts… Literally shut Pioneer down. Kids were losing their minds. “What? Saddam Hussein’s a Ghostbuster?” “Yeah, I’m a brown Ghostbuster. Deal with it.” One of the happiest days of my life. But then she would go back to India. That’s when I realized I don’t want a toy. I just want my mom. I want to be a family. I was very emo. I was like Drake. I missed that girl. “When is she coming back? I need her in my life. I need her. I need that girl. I need that girl in my life. I need her, Dad. She used to call me on my phone.” My dad’s like, “When the visa comes through.” “When the visa comes through.” It’s a big deal. I don’t care what anyone says. It’s difficult to get in this country. It’s not like a broken condom where you’re like, “I’m in!” [laughter] Eight years. August 11th, 1993. I’m so excited. I put on my Ghostbusters proton pack. I’m standing there. Dad goes, “Put on Indian clothes.” I’m like, “Alright. I can be an Indian ghostbuster.” I put on a Salwar Kameez. I’m standing there. Door opens. Dad walks through. Mom walks through. And then immediately behind my mom, is this little brown girl with a mushroom cut. She runs up to me and hugs me. “Hasan bhai!” And I’m in full hover-hands mode, because I have no idea who this person is. What happened was, my dad would go back and forth to India to visit my mom, and during one trip he knocked her up. [shocked laughter] And I had a sister. But no one told me about it. [uproarious laughter] Remember how I told you that immigrants love secrets? This is a secret that nobody told me! He says, “Hug her.” “You brought her out like Maury for immigrants.” “Hasan, you are the brother.” I’m like, “No, no!” She was breakdancing, and I’m like, “Who the fuck are you?” “You don’t know me?” “I’ve no idea who you are.” I hated that brown girl so much. I was like, “Build that wall.” I was like a little Republican. I was like, “I get it.” I remember leveling with my parents at the dinner table. “Look, Mom, Dad, let’s just be real. Oh, my God, these brown people… Oh, jeez. Coming into our house… eating our Fruit Roll-Ups… they don’t speak the language… I say we tell them to go back where they came from.” He’s like, “You can’t say that. We’re family.” I’m like, “No, that’s on you and Mom. You guys decided to get your Angelina Jolie on, and bring over this FOB. That’s on you, that’s not on me.” Why do you do this to your daughters? Every single brown mother makes your daughter quinceañera dress, chop cuts. Why? Princess from here down, Toad from here up. I’ve got this shit following me around on the playground. “Hasan bhai!” I’m like, “Yo, kick rocks!” I go play tetherball. “Hasan bhai!” “Get lost!” Eventually, I run to the boys’ bathroom. She follows me into the bathroom. “Hasan bhai!” All the kids at the urinal are like, “Uh! What’s Hasan-bye?” I went to school with a bunch of Ryan Lochtes. Just all traps. [slow, stupid voice] “Uh, I don’t understand other cultures, bro. What is that? What does it mean?” It’s a term of endearment in my culture, meaning “brother”. “Shut up, Cody!” I took that anger and channeled it at her. I was like, “Hey! You’re not my sister.” [gasps in audience] But she couldn’t understand English. [laughter, applause] But she got what I was saying. She starts crying and runs out. I was like, “No! She’s going to tell Dad.” Let’s focus on what’s important here. But she didn’t. And my dad… It was her first birthday in the US. She was turning five. So for her first birthday, he wanted it to be special. I can imagine being a father, missing your daughter’s first steps, her first time saying “Dada…” That’s a hard thing. So for her birthday, he brings everyone into the living room. He drags in this big box and goes, “Aisha, open the box.” She cuts open the box and unfurls one of the flaps, and I see “Toys ‘R’ Us” emblazoned on one of the flaps. And he reaches in, and pulls out a beautiful, blue BMX bike. [audience gasps] “Here you go, Aisha.” He looks at me. “Happy Birthday.” [shocked laughter, booing] Savage, right? I’m livid. I’m like, “Yo, when did Home Depot Dad become Danny Tanner? This is bullshit. Really?” I’m livid. And Aisha senses it. She’s like, “Hasan bhai, why don’t you take it out?” And as an elder brother, I felt entitled to that bike. “That’s my bike. Thank you.” Younger siblings, you guys are worthless. You bring nothing to the table. I see you getting mad. “Hell, no. I have a personality.” Where do you think you got that from, dummy? Us. Clothes, culture, money. “Whoa! I have opinions.” No, you don’t. And then you have the audacity to be, like, “Hey, why are you so melodramatic?” Because I went to war for you. Mom and Dad was my Vietnam. And you’re like, “Everybody loves me.” It’s such bullshit, right? Elder siblings, we walk through the world like, “Do people love me?” And you’re like, “Mom and Dad fucked up with you, not with me.” [shocked laughter] She’s like, “Take it for one lap around the block.” [speaking Hindi] I grab those handlebars, I’m like, “Fuck that noise.” Boom. I take off. She’s like, “Hasan bhai, come back!” I’m like, “Eat my dust, immigrant.” I’m flying. I see a curb. I’m about to pop a wheelie. The bike goes left, I go right. And that beautiful blue BMX bike… Bam! It crashes into the cement. All the paint is chipped off the right side of the bike. I pick it up, and it’s destroyed. I hear the patter of her chappals. She’s crying, “Hasan bhai, why would you do this?” Animé tears of innocence. “Why? I gave you the first ride.” And I’m looking down at her, and I’m like, “Man… I’m being a dick.” Like, this whole time I was looking for acceptance from Cody, Corey and Cole… [laughter] and I had it right here this entire time. I’m supposed to be her big brother, help her navigate the American dream and protect her. And I’m out here stealing her bike? This is fucked up. And Aisha hates that story. She’s always like, “Oh, my God, you are so melodramatic. You make me sound like a refugee baby.” That’s true. I’m doing that right now. It’s not fair, because she’s not a refugee. And, like, she learned English. She went to an Ivy League law school. She does mergers and acquisitions now. She is the one percent. Meanwhile, I… I didn’t go to grad school. I became a comedian. This is what I do. And then, when it came time for me to get married, I got married to a girl from a Hindu family. I heard an audible “Oh!” Alright. Fuck. I heard you go, like, “Ugh!” I didn’t punch you. Damn!
So some of you guys don’t know. Hindus and Muslims are like the Montagues and Capulets of India. We’ve been warring for centuries. You’re like, “What’s the difference? You look the same.” So how do I explain this? Hindus and Muslims. So Hindus… Hindus don’t eat beef. “No beef!” Right? And Muslims, we don’t eat pork. “Is that pepperoni pizza? No. No pepperoni!” And then Hindus, they like statues. They’re like, “Oh! This is a statue of an elephant. I’m going to put this in my car.” [laughter, applause] Muslims are like, “No statues! Calligraphy! We’re about the alphabet. We put that in our car. We’re different.” And then Hindus, they like cartoons. They’re like, “Oh, this is a cartoon Ganesh. I’ll just put this on the wall.” And Muslims… we don’t really, uh, like cartoons. We’ve got to get better about our cartoon policy. Because of this we’ve been killing each other for centuries. And I know the older generation doesn’t like those jokes. “Pakistan was created because of this reason.” I know, but… I convinced my dad. “Dad, I love her, she loves me. Isn’t there something bigger that unites all of us outside of race, color, creed, class? This is America. We can choose what we want to adhere from the motherland. Isn’t life like biryani, where you push the weird shit to the side? Why do we got to adhere to this weird shit from back over there? He agrees. He’s like, “That’s a good point. Fine. You should get married.” That’s a Hall of Fame brown dad decision. There’s brown dads here, like, “If my son did that, I would shoot myself and then shoot him.” He says yes. We rally the troops, Me, Mom, Dad, Aisha, we get in the Camry, we’re driving to my fiancée’s house. And we’re about to pull up and we get to the door, and my dad is about to ring the doorbell, when he says the sentence that is the killer of every brown kid’s dream. He goes, “I don’t think we should do this. Log kya kahenge? [audience gasps] “What will people think?” I don’t know if you know, but every time a brown father says log kya kahenge, a star actually falls from the sky. [laughter] “I don’t want to be a doctor!” “Log kya kahenge!” No! “I don’t want to marry!” “Log kya kahenge!” Why? I bet you, when Mahatma Gandhi told his parents he was going to liberate India, even they were like, “Log kya kahenge! “Stop marching. The British are going to talk shit about us. Why are you bald and skinny? You’re never going to get married.” And I’m standing there… on that doorstep. [applause, cheering] Wait, I’m standing there… on that doorstep, like, “Wait, you want me to change my life because of log kya kahenge? Come on, Dad. How many times do we complain about racism in our community? All the time. Now the ball is in our court, we’re going to be bigoted? Dad, I promise you, God doesn’t like bigotry. God’s not like, ‘You’re racist. Good job.’ No! Number two, you want me to change my life to appease some aunty and uncle I’m never going to see? You want me to change my life for Naila Aunty? Fuck Naila Aunty. Are you fucking kidding me? My life?” But I can’t say that. Because I’ve played all my cards. So I can’t say anything. Now I’m losing hope. I’m, like, “Maybe this is bigger than me. Why can’t I put my head down and do what I’m supposed to do? This ain’t Jodhaa Akbar.” Have you ever been trapped by the time you live in? It’s been going on for centuries. So I’m walking back to the Camry, then I hear a voice behind me. “Oh, my God. You guys do this all the time.” And it is Aisha, and she is pissed. And she’s like, “Dad, I did not fly out from Philly for this.” [laughter] “Beena is so legit. She has a PhD. Hasan bhai is a comedian.” [laughter, applause, whooping] “No one is going to marry him. Get him married before she changes her mind.” She stepped up. She laid down one of her cards for me. She Phil Jacksoned that situation. She got all these people working together. Because of her, I got to marry the love of my life. Because of my sister. I can’t believe it. [rapturous applause] For years I resented that brown girl. I hated her. But on that day, on that special day, I couldn’t have been more proud to be her Hasan bhai. [applause, whistling] [whooping] [huge applause] [applause fades] You know, they say every generation is defined by a great struggle or tragedy. And it’s wild that our kids will never know there was a period in time in this country where you had to make a choice between being on the internet or being on the phone. [laughter] They won’t get it, dude. You’ll never get it. You don’t get it, man. You won’t. That was our World War I, man. Especially in middle school, if a girl called the house, you had to pick up the phone before your parents. We used to have landlines. It’s like phones connected to the land. And one time in middle school a girl called the house. My dad picked it up before me. “Hello, who is this?” “Hi, it’s Alice. Is Hasan there?” “What you want, Alice?” I was like, “I’m going to die a virgin.” “I’m in Geometry with Hasan. I had a question. Can I ask him the question?” He’s like, “Okay, Alice. Why don’t you ask me the question, then I’ll ask Hasan?” That’s the way our parents are. Ages zero through 30, “No girls!” At 35, “Why can’t you talk to girls?” That’s basically it. “Ah, you kill me!” [applause, whooping] That’s the way our parents are, right? Our parents are like a firewall to the outside world. They disseminate information to us. It’s like living in North Korea. My dad is the leader of the household. So when 9-11 happened I was in high school. My dad sits everybody down. He’s like, “Hasan, whatever you do, do not tell people you’re Muslim or talk about politics.” “Alright, Dad, I’ll just hide it. This just rubs off.” We’re sitting there. Phone rings. I run, but my dad beats me to the phone. “Hello?” I grab the second phone. I hear a voice. “Hey, you sand nigger, where’s Osama?” [audience gasps] He looks at me. “You can hear me, right? You fucking dune coon. Where’s Osama?” “Hey, 2631 Regatta Lane, that’s where you live, right? I’m going to fucking kill you.” Click. And my dad’s looking at me. Do you ever see your parents, and you see the mortality in them? I’m looking at my dad and I see all five-seven of him. And that’s when I realize I’m a darapok. I’m a scaredy-cat. We can speak two languages. We can speak at home and outside. I should have said something. I didn’t. We sit down. I hear “thud, thud, thud” outside. Me and Dad run outside and all the windows on the Camry are smashed in. My backpack’s open. “Fuck, they stole my stuff.” I reach and I pull out my backpack. Pieces of glass get caught in my arm. Now blood is gushing down my arm, and I’m pissed, I’m fucking mad. Fuck this, man! These kids know where we live, they’re timing this, so they’re watching us. So I’m looking in the trees, the bushes… I look back in the middle of the street, my dad is in the middle of the road sweeping glass out of the road like he works at a barbershop. “We’ve got customers. Log kya kahenge? We’ve got to clean this up.” Zen! Brown Mr Miyagi, just, like, not saying a word. I’m like, “Why aren’t you saying something? I’m asking you, say something!” He looks at me and goes, “Hasan…” [speaking Hindi] [speaking Hindi] “These things happen, and these things will continue to happen. That’s the price we pay for being here.” That’s when I was like, “We really are from two different generations.” BMX bikes aside. My dad’s from that generation where he feels like if you come to this country, you pay the American dream tax. You endure racism, and if it doesn’t cost you your life, pay it. There you go, Uncle Sam. But for me, I was born here. So I actually have the audacity of equality. I’m like, “I’m in Honors Gov, I have it right here. Life, liberty, pursuit of happiness. All men created equal.” It says it right here, I’m equal. I’m equal. I don’t deserve this. [deafening applause] But as soon as I say that… He looks at me like I believe in Santa. “Hasan, you’ll never understand.” “I’ll never understand? Dad, you’re the guy that will argue with the cashier at Costco when he doesn’t let you return used underwear. And now you want to be the bigger man? Now you’re like, ‘Let’s be reasonable with the bigots.’ What?” And then he just walks back into the house with glass in his feet. And I honestly don’t know who is more right. Maybe he’s right. Put your head down. Be a doctor, get a house in the burbs, let them call them whatever you want. But isn’t it our job to push the needle forward little by little? Isn’t that how all this stuff happens? I don’t know. The pendulum swings back and forth for me. And I know 9/11 is a super touchy subject. I understand. Because when it happened, everyone in America felt like their country was under attack. But on that night, September 12th, it was the first night of so many nights where my family’s loyalty to this country was under attack. And it always sucks. As immigrants we always have to put on these press releases to prove our patriotism. We’re auditioning. “We love this country, please believe me.” Nobody loves this country more than us. I fell in love here. Six years old, Janice Malo. I saw her in the sandbox. I run up to her. First grade. “I love you!” “You’re the color of poop.” That’s memory number one. The first time you experience racism? I was like, “What? Oh, no! It’s not rubbing off!” I was fucking terrified. It was like Inception. There were so many levels. I just wanted to wake up and be like, “Oh, it was all a dream. I’m JGL. It was all a dream.” But it’s not a dream, it’s the universe telling you, “It’s a Fair and Lovely world. Navigate accordingly.” In the third grade, Miss Anderson said, “Write what you want to be.” Some kids were like, “an astronaut,” or “a firefighter.” I was like, “I want to be white.” [shocked laughter] “What do you mean?” “I want this part of my skin to be all of my skin.” And it wasn’t like, “I hate melanin.” I love melanin. I’ve never gotten a sunburn. I’m blessed. [laughter, applause, whooping] But when you’re white and you’re playing the video game of life, and your avatar is white, you just get asked less questions along the way. You pop out. Boom. “I want to be Batman.” “Well, of course. Batman is white. Duh!” “I want to be president.” “Duh! Forty-four-and-a-half presidents are white. We’ve had a great track record.” And I know the privilege debate is very heavy for white people. I know you guys have problems. I’ve seen Girls. [laughter] My dad did not give a shit about any of this identity stuff. His rules with me were very simple. “No fun, no girlfriends. Have fun in med school.” Which is a huge lie. It never gets popping in med school. I’ve never been to a club and seen nine dudes: “Yo, what’s going on?” “What’s going on? Residency, fam!” Never happens. “I got a career I hate from my parents.” It’s a lie. We buy into it. So by my senior year of high school, I had yet to go to a school dance, I had been cut from the basketball team, and I had just got off this medicine called Accutane so my skin and face was peeling. I’m crushing life. Out here, killing it. No one did that. Don’t clap. No one did that for that photo. No one ever did that at my school. It’s too late. But there was one bright spot, this girl named Bethany Reed. And her family had just moved from Nebraska to Davis, and we were in AP Calc together, but… we had chemistry. She sat behind me, first day, she’s like, “Hey… what’s your AIM screen name?” [laughter] I was like, “It’s about to go down. Do you want it? I could give it to you.” Whatever I lacked in real-life game, my digital game… bananas. Status updates, away messages, sub profile, Boyz II Men. Don’t say you don’t like “Water Runs Dry”. I was a lover. Late at night on AIM, back and forth, back and forth… You guys don’t know this. Some of you guys are just in college, Snapchatting. Back in the day, we had to fire up the internet like goddamn cavemen. You know what I mean? [makes long, crackling, buzzing noise] [blows] If someone picked up the phone, “Hey, get off the phone! I’m trying to talk to somebody!” That’s how we would communicate. Late at night, back and forth, back and forth. One night she was like, “Hey, come over.” I bike over to her place, white picket fence, McMansion, Ford Expedition, Eddie Bauer edition. [audience cheers] “Oh, they made it!” Mrs Reed opens the door. Her father is this successful retired judge. Mrs Reed’s like, “You want brownies?” “Yeah. Cool.” “Hey, stay for dinner.” “We just had brownies, but okay.” We’re sitting there at the dinner table. And now Mrs Reed’s like, “Hey, honey, we know so much about Bethany, but we don’t know anything about you. What do you like? What are you into?” I was like, “What?” [laughter] “What do I like? Um… Nobody… Nobody has ever asked me that before.” [laughter] “I guess I like acoustic guitar.” “You should do that. You should follow your dreams.” [laughter] “Maybe I will. Maybe I will follow my dreams.” Then Bethany’s like, “Hey, we always study at my house. Why don’t we study at your house?” I was like, “I’ve got to go.” What, invite you over to my house? You walk in: “What language are you guys speaking? What’s that smell?” I’m not going to open myself up to that. But I was like, “No, she’s different.” I hit her up late at night. “Mom, Dad, a school friend is coming over. Everyone here, please be normal.” My dad is like, “We are normal.” Killing me, you know what I mean? “Hasan, we’re normal. Be proud. You should be proud.” Who is proud? No one is. You’re walking around like a rooster. I’m not proud and no one is proud. We get there. We’re sitting on my living room table. My mom and dad are arguing in Hindi. My mom is frying pakoras. The fobbiest thing ever. Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham is playing on Zee TV. But it’s too much. It’s all coming at this girl. It’s too much. You’ve got to ease your way in. She’s from Nebraska. Soul cycle, yoga, then Zee TV. Don’t just, like, go into it. So I’m looking at her, like, “Don’t say anything. Please don’t say anything.” She looks up from her book, and she’s like, “You know what? This is really nice. We should do this more often. This is really nice.” And I look at her, and I’m like, “Oh, my God. I love you, my white princess.” [laughter] “You see me. I don’t got to change who I am? I can be me!” So I’m going back and forth. Her house, my house. One night, we’re on the living room table. We’re doing integrals. [laughter] She closes her book. She’s like, “Hey. It’s late.” And I’m like, “It is late.” And she’s like… “I should go home.” I was like, “Yeah, you should…” Why did you say that? That was your chance. Don’t do that. I said, “Wait, let me walk you out.” So I’m walking her out. She gets in the car. I’m about to close the door. She rams her arm into the door, leans out and gives me a kiss. “I love you.” Drives off into the night. Like a fucking G! Because she knew the rules. She knew the rules. No fun, no friends, no girlfriends. All we had was that stolen moment in my driveway. You guys are like, “I was getting handjobs when I was nine.” Not me. Not this guy. Not you, not you, not you. Not us. I was like, “Are we getting married? I have to change my pants. We are definitely getting married. When is the shaadi?” [applause] Now, my AP Calc class was a group of overachievers and my Calc teacher, Mr Pendleton, wanted us to live lives outside of school. So one day he gets up in front of the entire class. “Alright, you guys are all killing it academically but I want you to know there is more to life than just getting into UC Berkeley.” One kid was like, “I know, getting into Stanford.” He’s like, “No, you have to live a life worth talking about, which is why I’m making it mandatory for everyone in this class to go to prom.” I’m like, “All 30 of us? We’re all going to prom? AP Calc? Us? Me, Jehovah’s Witness girl, Korean exchange students, going to the prom? Thirty for 30? All of us?” I’m laughing so hard, I’m crying. He’s like, “Hanson, this is not funny.” He walks over to the board, he pulls it down. It’s a bracket with everybody’s name on it leading up to the big dance. It’s March Madness for nerds. I’m like, “Whatever, it’s not going to happen. He can’t do this.” Weeks go by. Kids start getting dates. Three days before prom he walks to the board. Last two names: Hasan Minhaj, Bethany Reed. The class goes nuts. They’re like, “Oh! They’re going to fuck!” “No, we’re not! Are we? No, no we’re not.” I look at her, “Please don’t say anything.” She says nothing, like a G. [laughter] Bell rings. I’m walking to my locker. I hear footsteps. She’s like, “Wait up.” I was like, “What’s up?” “Oh, that was crazy back there. What are the chances?” She’s like, “Listen, you know, ever since my family moved from Nebraska, you’ve been my best friend. And you’re really special to me. This year wouldn’t be the same without you. So I was wondering, will you go to prom with me?” [applause, whooping] I was like, “Yes, my white princess.” As soon as I said that, I was like, “No!” I had bitten off more than I could chew. “No, wait. You’ve got cards to play. You’re good. You’re a good kid. Also, remember, parents respect honesty. You’ve seen this on TV. If you go home and are honest, your parents will be like, ‘Even though I disagree with you, I respect your candor. Therefore I will grant your wish.'” I ran home, I was like, “Dad, I would like to go to prom.” [speaking Hindi] Which means, “I will break your face.” “Duly noted, father.” “Bethany, situation at home. Father doesn’t want us to go to prom. I’m going to sneak out. I live on the second story. I’m going to jump off and land on my bike. I’ll bike to your place, we dance it up, and if I die, I had a great run.” You know? You’re going to die, so put it on the tombstone. “Hasan Minhaj, 4.3 GPA, kissed a white girl.” What an amazing way to go. The night of prom rolls around. I put on the JC Penney suit. Spray on the Michael Jordan cologne. Six puffs, one for each championship. You don’t want to overkill it with the MJ cologne. Don’t be tacky. I’m scaling down the side of my roof, scraping my knees. I jump off the roof. It’s like 20 feet. I jump off, I somehow land, I get on my bike. It’s beautiful, the sun is setting, it’s one of those gorgeous evenings. And I’m biking with my knees bowed out. So my slacks don’t get caught up in the chains. Fast enough to get there, but slow enough to not get pit stains. I’m balancing the corsage. [panting] “Alright, go. Go. You’re good. You’re getting there.” [wild applause and cheering] I get to her house. I park my bike. I’m walking up to the doorstep, and I’m about to ring the doorbell when I’m like, “Wait. 30 second time-out. Do you understand what’s about to go down? You’re about to go to prom with Bethany motherfucking Reed.” [applause] “This is the American dream. This is what Dad fought for.” Ding-dong. Mrs Reed opens the door. She has this look of concern. And I look over her shoulder, and I see Jeff Burke putting a corsage on Bethany’s wrist. [audience sighs] And she’s like, “Oh, my God, honey, did Bethany not tell you? Sweetie, we love you, we think you’re great. We love that you come over and study. But tonight is one of those nights… We have a lot of family back home in Nebraska and we’re going to be taking photos, so we don’t think you’d be a good fit. Do you need a ride home? Mr Reed can give you a ride home.” And I was like, “No, I have my bike.” And I just biked home and played Mario Kart. That’s the nicest I’ve ever been dressed, playing Mario Kart. [laughter] I wish I had said, “Fuck that, I’m going to the dance.” I didn’t. The sad part is, I felt bad for being there. Who was I to ruin their picture-perfect celebration? You’ve seen movies. How many times do you see that on screen? And it’s not like they were yokels yelling “sand nigger!” I could let that pass. I’d eaten off their plates, kissed their daughter. I didn’t know that people could be bigoted even as they were smiling at you. It’s hard when you see people saying they love you but they’re afraid at the same time. And I didn’t know what that meant. [applause] Then the following Monday, during first period she finds me. She’s like, “Everybody has been asking why we didn’t go. Please don’t say anything. It’s a generational thing. Please don’t say anything.” And I look at her. Second period rolls around like clockwork. Mr Pendleton’s like, “So, lovebirds, what happened? Everybody’s wondering.” So I’m, like, “Yeah, what happened?” Looking at her. She just looks down. Now everybody’s looking at me so I’ve got to improvise. I was like, “Yeah, you know, I decided not to go. I mean, dances are overrated. They’re a cliché. I decided not to go.” Everybody in the class looked at me. “Wow, you dick.” “You stood up the new girl? Thank God Jeff took her. You’re a dick.” That’s the last time we ever spoke. And you know, time has passed, and I don’t really think about that day. I mean, I did write a show about it, but… [laughter] like a lot of people… [cheering] [more cheering, whooping] you move on to different chapters of your life. You have selective memory. You’re in college. Tools, Clear History. Out of college. Tools, Clear History. Never did that. Married. Tools, Clear History. Never happened. Second marriage, Tools, Clear History. Never happened. But for the most part, I actually think about it the way my dad does. “Oh, you couldn’t go to prom with a white girl? Who gives a fuck? At least your spine isn’t getting shattered in a police wagon, though it’s happening to African-Americans to this day. So this is a tax you have to pay? I’ll pay it. ‘I can’t date your daughter.’ I don’t give a fuck, Uncle Sam. Take it.” But then I realized, wait, hold on. Why is it every time the collateral damage has to be death, for us to talk about this? A kid has to get shot 16 times for us to be like, “Maybe we have a race problem.” For every Trayvon Martin or Ahmed the clock kid, there is bigotry that happens every day. Because we’re too afraid of the Other. Someone who’s not in our tribe. I wish I could tell 18-year-old me, “Hey, man, don’t let this experience define you. It’s good people and bad people. Irrespective of creed, class, color, find those people. Because love is bigger than fear.” I wish I could tell him that. I really believe that. [applause, cheering] I really believe love is bigger than fear. Fox News has taught me that. Fox News is incredible. I’ve never seen so many people with spray tans hate people of color. It is amazing. And Fox News is in New York. They’re in New York. Daily Show, Fox News, five avenues away from each other. That’s it. Professor X, Magneto, that close. Every day I walk past their building during lunch. I’ll see all the employees, Hannity, Coulter, O’Reilly, leave their building, cross the street, walk past me, and line up for halal chicken and rice. I’m like, “Uh… Racist Randy wants that red sauce.” Your brain can be racist, but your body will just betray you. I love that so much. All morning, they’re like, “Mexicans, all lives matter, Arabs… 12:01! Shwarma time!” I love that so much. And I wish I could tell 18-year-old me that, but I can’t. I don’t have a time machine. I can’t tell him that. You know what the shitty part is? When you first fall in love, you get that first taste of the Heisenberg blue. It’s never the same after that. People here with girlfriends are like, “Babe, it’s different with you.” You’re lying and that’s okay. But we had those first secrets. My secret was, “I want to be a comedian.” She said, “I want to be a journalist.” We promised we would follow our dreams, no matter what people would think. So I started doing comedy. I wasn’t very good. Two years, three years, four years, six years, seven years… I finally get a chance to headline a comedy club. It’s a big deal for me. Gotham Comedy Club, New York City. I did what a lot of early comedians do. I got on Facebook, I got super cocky. I was like, “Yo, Facebook! Your boy, headlining Gotham Comedy Club. Let me know if you want some tix.” All caps. Like, relax! I sent it. I was like, “I’m a headliner. Let’s go to the airport. LA, Chicago, Nashville, New York… I’m flying Southwest. I was like, “I made it! Oh, hello. La Quinta Inn! Don’t mind if I do. Free Wi-Fi? Why not? Let’s see what the internet is saying about me. I open up my laptop, fire up Facebook, and I see this. “Hey, um, long time no see. You’re doing comedy now. So cool. Listen, me and my girlfriends live in Manhattan and we were wondering if we could get some tix?” Question mark. Okay. [laughter] [sighs with pleasure as he drinks] [applause] I don’t know if you know what this means. But, you know, if life gives you lemons, sometimes you’ve got to make “revenge lemonade.” Sprinkle in a little irony. Reply, son. Reply. “Bethany, comma, enter. Totally remember you. Long time no see, indeed.” [talks gibberish in high-pitched voice] “Seven years. A lot of time. Listen, I would love to give you some tix, but we’re going to be taking a lot of photos tonight… [audience gasps, applauds] and I don’t think you’d be a good fit.” Send that shit! Send that shit right now! Send that shit right now! I jump on stage! I run to the club, jump on stage… I don’t even know what I said. I was like, “Fuck that. Goodnight.” Boom. I go to the airport. We go from New York, Chicago, to Nashville to LA. I pick up my Toyota Camry L-motherfucking-E. Don’t you ever forget about it. Cloth interior for life. Whipping through the streets of LA. “Hello, headliner. What do you need?” “Hasan bhai, Dad had a heart attack. Hey… idiot, pick up your phone. I need you. Dad had a heart attack.” My dad had just suffered a quintuple bypass. So they’re rushing him to the hospital. Aisha goes, “Come home, now.” I was like, “I got a set at the Comedy Store. I’m going to do that, then I’ll come home.” And I did a set at the Comedy Store. And then I drove home. And I don’t know why… I get to Kaiser and run upstairs. My mom and my sisters are crying. My sister looks at me, she’s like, “They don’t know what you did. I do.” Doctor sees me. “Are you his son?” “Yeah.” “You’re over 18? Sign this.” I sign this waiver that clears the hospital of liability if something happens to my dad. The surgery is that risky. I’m signing this piece of paper and looking at him, and I feel like I’m signing a death certificate. His body temperature is so low that he looks blue. They wheel him into surgery and I hand the clipboard to the doctor. I look at my dad, like, “If this is the last time I see my dad… I’m saying goodbye to a person I barely even know.” And I’m waiting, hoping that he comes out of surgery okay. And somehow he makes it through. We’re in the hospital. I have to tell him stories. So I’m telling him stories about my life, he’s telling me stories about his. So I tell him the prom story. He goes, “Hasan, I’m mad at you.” “I know, I kissed a girl. I’ll never do it again.” [laughter] He goes, “No… why don’t you forgive Bethany?” [speaking Hindi] He wanted to be the bigger person again. I was like, “Why?” “You know when I emigrated to this country in 1982, I thought if I let you go to a school dance, you would join a gang, get a girl pregnant and become a drug dealer, in one night. I wanted to protect you. Her family saw stuff about us. They wanted to protect their daughter. Everybody’s afraid of everybody. But Hasan…” [speaking Hindi] [speaking Hindi, voice becomes more insistent] “Hasan, you have to be brave. Your courage to do what’s right has to be greater than your fear of getting hurt. So, Hasan, be brave. Hasan, be brave.” It’s a very beautiful poem. I think about it all the time. And look, there are some days where I can forgive that person. The past is the past. Tools, Clear History. It’s done. Other days, “No, fuck that. This is House of Cards. Crush our enemies.” I didn’t know how to feel, until this. Pizza Hut new big pizza sliders are here. Get nine in a box for just ten bucks. Ten bucks. Match up to three ways. Three? Cheese! Big, delicious sliders, only at your Pizza Hut. And that’s how you make it great. Alright, so… so this airs during March Madness. Everyone sees it. The night this airs, friends send me text messages. “Hey, man, by any chance do you know how many pizza sliders you get in a box for just ten bucks?” [laughter] “Nine!” “Is it true you can mix and match up to three ways?” [laughter] “Yes, three. Yes.” A buddy of mine sends me this screengrab. “Just saw my high school prom date in a Pizza Hut ad.” #throwback. #it’s a small world. #brilliant. To which I reply, “We didn’t end up going, though. How’ve you been?” #MrP. #Calc. To which she replies, “I know! Made for a better tweet though. Let me know when you’re in New York.” To which I reply, “abso-fucking-lutely.” Now, against the advice of my therapist I go on Facebook, because she has a public profile. So I start clicking around. “Bethany Reed.” Okay. “Lives in Manhattan.” Duh, we knew that. “In a relationship with…” I click it. [audience gasps, applause] “Rajesh… Rengatramanajanana…” She is dating an Indian dude, and this dude is Indian as fuck. Look at his name! Look at how big his name is. It’s so big, it barely fits in his Facebook profile. So big. Ten syllables. Ra-jesh Ren-gat-ra-ma-na-ja-na-nam. Are you kidding me? How many letters are in the alphabet? How many letters in the alphabet? 26 letters in the alphabet, right? How many letters are in Rajesh Rengatramanajananam? 25. That’s one less letter than the entire alphabet. Come on! How easy is my name? Hasan Minhaj. So easy. She was like, “Fuck that. Give me the Rajesh Rengatramana… motherfucking-jananam.” Like, “No!” God is laughing at me. God is laughing at me. Now, against the advice of my therapist… I make contact. She’s like, “Do not make contact.” I’m like, “Tell me what I want to hear.” “Need closure? Go for it.” “See you next week.” Therapy is bullshit. “Bethany, I’ve got a gig in New York next week. I would love to meet up.” She’s like, “Yeah, let’s meet up.” And I go from LA to New York, direct flight. Pizza Hut money. I’m walking through New York. I’m livid. I’m pissed. How is this possible? How is this possible? Rajesh Rengatramana… How does she make love? “Oh, my God, Rajesh Rengatramanajananam, give it to me right now. Rajesh Rengatramanajananam, I want you so bad. Put your Rajesh in my Rengatramanajananam.” I was like, “Stop it. Stop imagining her having sex with Rajesh Rengatramanajananam. You’ve got leverage. Walk in there, be cool. Walk in there, be confident. Be like this, dude. Walk in there and just own it. Be like this, be like this.” [laughter] [whistling, whooping] “What’s up?” Do that with this, and then lick the lips and go, “What’s up?” I’m practicing it. I get to the door, open the door, then I hear, “Hey, Hasan!” She’s sitting outside. She saw me doing this shit in the street. [applause] I was like, “Oh, hey, what’s up? Is someone sitting there? Cool.” I just walk up and I’m like, “Alright, yeah. I’ll just sit here, cool.” I’m sitting there. When you see someone from your past, all of a sudden, you’re that age again. So all that Kanye juice just goes out of my body. I can’t say anything. It’s like the adults in Charlie Brown. I can’t say anything. 20 minutes, 30 minutes, 40 minutes. “Dude, are you going to be a darapok again? Say something.” She starts talking about rent control and I cut her off. “Bethany, do you know why I’m here? I’m here to talk about prom.” [laughter] And her face went white. You guys knew she was white, right? It went whiter than white. And I was like, “You knew my situation. You knew it. I was ride or die for you. At that age, that’s a lot. You weren’t the same for me, fine. Whatever. But what makes matters worse is, you had me socially crucified in front of everybody. You knew how hard it was for me, and then I was so insecure at that age that I couldn’t date another white person, because I was afraid of not being able to be with them, because of the color of my skin. Do you know what that’s like? And now, I’m trying to pursue my dreams, I’m trying, but now you’re writing about me, you act like we’re cool, when we’re not. Why do you do that?” And she was like, “I am so sorry. But you know we were 18, right? Like, I really wanted to go with you. But my mom, she’s very controlling. Do you know what it’s like to have a parent that controls your life?” “No, I don’t. What is that like? Do tell. I would love to hear that story.” [cheering] “Tell me more.” What? She’s like, “I wish I could have gone with you. But I can’t change the past. I never thought you would want to talk to me ever again. But the reason why I write about you is because I see you kept your promise. So even if you never want to talk to me ever again, I’ll always be rooting for you.” You know how you carry hatred in your heart about people in your past? “They did this to me. Fuck them.” Damn them. In that moment, I let it go. I crushed it like a Voldemort Horcrux. [makes crushing sounds] [cheering, applause] But I had to ask her the question that we’re all thinking. [laughter] “What about Mr Rengatramanajananam?” She’s like, “I hit it off with this guy. We decide to move in together. I needed money for a deposit so I called my mom.” “What did your mom say?” “My mom was like, ‘No. You know the way our family is. So make up your mind.'” And I was like, “What did you say?” And she’s like, “I told my mom, ‘Not again. This isn’t high school. Raj is a good person and so am I. So I’m going to be with him because it’s right. I hope you make up your mind.'” And I’m looking at her, and I’m so embarrassed. I’m like, “Dude, what are you doing? Why are you hunting down people from your past like a psycho? [laughter] You’re not Liam Neeson. What is going on?” I realized, “You don’t give a shit about this person.” I care about what she represents. Growing up, we just want that co-sign. To tell them you’re good enough. “Sit here. You’re good enough.” But that’s not the American dream. It’s not asking for a co-sign. It’s what every generation did before you. You claim that shit on your own terms. Pizza Hut pizza sliders. Nine in a box for just ten bucks. That’s you. You’re not Hasan Minhaj. You’re “Hussan Minhajj”. This is new brown America. The dream is for you to take, so take that shit. Stop blaming other people. [cheering, whooping]
Now I’m standing outside the restaurant and I can’t even concentrate, because I know she’s more evolved than me. She’s like, “Next time, me, you and Raj should hang out.” I’m like, “Yeah, let’s not do that.” And I’m walking to the subway station. But I take one last look at the restaurant. Just to see her one last time. To know that generational change is possible with one choice. I turn around and I look, but she’s gone. And I never saw her again. I did keep my promise, though. You know, I kept doing comedy. I never knew… I never knew if I would do anything more than Pizza Hut. You know how you hit that point when your parents give up on you and move on? “Let’s move on to Aisha.” One day I get an email from my manager. “Want to audition for The Daily Show?” That’s not a question. That’s a statement. “Hey, audition for The Daily Show.” I submit a tape. I get a call. “Jon Stewart saw your tape. Come to New York. They want you to audition. But, but… you have to write another original piece. Can you write another?” “No, I can’t. I’m not Larry David. I can’t do Seinfeld and Curb. I’m a mere mortal.” I’m walking back and forth in my shitty one-bed apartment, like, “I’m going to die here.” And it’s amazing how racism will always happen to you when you need it the most. Like changing the oil on your car. “Oh, 15,000 miles. Racism.”
So I’m watching the show Real Time With Bill Maher. Have you guys seen Real Time With Bill Maher? You know Bill’s demeanor. “Hey, do you believe in God? You’re a fucking idiot.” And everyone’s like, “Oh, the atheist prophet speaks!” So this clip went viral, him and Ben Affleck. Bill Maher is like, “These Muslims, 85 percent of them hate our freedom. We’ve got to round them up, we’ve got to contain them.” And Ben Affleck’s like, “Are you crazy? Round them up, contain them? Dude, we did that to the Japanese. You can’t do that. Am I crazy?” And I was like, “No, you’re not crazy. You’re my white prince.” [laughter, applause] Don’t you realize what happened in that moment? We got our first A-list celebrity to back the Muslim community. We got Batman, baby! “He may not be the hero we want, but he is the hero the Muslim world needs.” “Batman versus Bill Maher.” I write the piece, go to New York. You get it, right? The producer answers the door: “Audition with me. When you’re ready, Jon will come down. Run it with me.” We’re walking down the hallway, and I see all these photos of the old correspondents that came before me. Steve Carell, John Oliver, Sam Bee, Jason Jones, Ed Helms, Steven Colbert… and me? Keema roti, me? You know we don’t end up this far. You know the way it is. Middle management till we die. We’re not on that stage, ever. I walk in and I see that Daily Show globe. I can’t tell you how blue it is. And now I’m sweating through my suit. The producer is like, “We’ll run it a few times.” And I sit down and I get to the desk. Sitting presidents have sat on that desk. I sit down and we’re running it, and I’m nervous. He goes, “Hey, man, just slow down. Alright?” We run it a second time. Now I’m stuttering. And he goes, “Hey, man, relax. You’re funny.” Which is a tell-tale sign of being, like, “Hey, man. You’re not funny. You shouldn’t relax.” And I can feel it. I’m choking. We’ve all been there. Everyone’s, “How did it go?” You’re like, “Positive thoughts.” No, it’s not happening. You’re not. You are choking. MCAT, DAT, you’re going to the Caribbean, it’s a wrap. You choked, right? Too real? It’s real. We’ve all been there. And I can feel this turtle head coming out of my butt. I’m really nervous. I’m pooping my pants. I’m like, “No!” Then I hear… [sings Daily Show theme] I know that voice. It’s Jewish Yoda. It’s Jon. He’s walking through the tunnel where the guests come, so he’s just back-lit. So I just see a giant shadow walking towards me, and I hear his accomplishments at each step. “Boom! I am Jon Stewart. Boom! Twenty-two-time Emmy-award-winning Jon Stewart. Boom! I redefined political satire and comedy. What have you done?” I’m like, “Have you heard of Pizza Hut?” [laughter] [applause, whooping] Then he steps into the light, and he’s shorter than I thought. And he has all this scruff on his face. And I look at him, and I’m like… “Dad?” He had Jewish Najmi vibes. He shakes my hand. I could feel it, like he’d slapped me in a previous life. I was like, “I know this hand!” He starts riffing, I start riffing. The prompter guy: “What are you doing?” “I got this.” I had it all memorized. One shot, Eight Mile. And I stuck my landing like a Russian gymnast. “Thank you for the opportunity.” I tucked that turtle head back in my butt. “We’re going home.” I walk out the door, but then I hear a voice. “Hey, man, where are you going?” And it’s Jon. I was like, “Oh, I live in LA. I’ve got to go back to LA.” “Well, I’ll see you Monday, right?” I was like, “Why?” “Well, you work here. So I’ll see you Monday, right?” [huge cheer] I couldn’t believe it. I was like, “Oscar speech, go. Say what you got to say.” What I wanted to say was, “Jon, this is one of the only things that I’ve gotten in my entire career that my dad actually knows.” [laughter] “So thank you.” But what I said was, “Jon! My dad… knows you!” He’s like, “Yeah, I’m sure he does.” I pinch myself. “You’re Hasan Minhaj. You’re going to be on The Daily Show.” I run outside. I call my girl. She’s crying. I call my mom, she’s crying. I call my dad, he says “Good job.” “What? ‘Good job’? Say it again. I can’t hear you, Dad. Say it.” A car almost hits me. I’m, like, “No! I can’t die. I’ve got to drop the greatest status update.” I run upstairs, open my laptop, fire up Facebook, and then I see this. [audience gasps, moans] [quiet laughter] You guys see this, right? [laughter] Don’t you know what this means? Don’t you get it? I’m the cure for racism. [laughter, applause] I cured it. Alright, maybe I didn’t cure it, but everyone has a purpose. Some people were put here to find a cure for cancer, or find a vaccine for Ebola. My life is definitive proof that once you go brown, you’ve got to lock that shit down. [huge cheer, applause] Thank you. Thank you. Good night. Be well. God bless. I love you guys. I love you guys. Good night. I love you. [whistling, whooping]"
Jim Jefferies,"[Car horn honks] [Audience cheering] [Announcer] Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome to the stage Mr. Jim Jefferies! [Upbeat music playing] Hello! Sit down, sit down, sit down, sit down, sit down. [Chuckles] Thank you, Boston. I appreciate that. [Whooping] Uh, that’s very sweet of you. [Man] Love you! I’m at the end of the tour right now. I’m very happy to be on tour because I now have a child. Ah, so… any time out of home is good for me. Um, I got my girlfriend pregnant after knowing her for two months. So… [Audience cheering] Thank you. Thank you. Life decisions. And she’s a nice girl, and I love her in a way, sure. My problem with my girlfriend is, she’s very sweet, but she’s shit at telling stories, and I’m awesome at telling stories, so it really bothers me when she talks. And I don’t know if that’ll be a problem in the future, but it’s a problem now and I don’t see it getting better. Um… I’ll give you an example, right? I was in the car, and my son Hank was asleep in the back seat, and we’re driving along, and on the radio comes Madonna, and my girlfriend just slips into conversation, “Oh, I used to party with Madonna.” And I went, “You fucking what, when?” And she went, “I used to party with Madonna.” Now, I should fill you in a little bit on this. My girlfriend used to be a model in Miami, right? I’m not bragging. I didn’t get the model years. I didn’t get those years. I’ve seen the photos. Very impressive. Um… So, I said, “So you used to party with Madonna. Madonna used to have big parties and invite models over, right?” And she went, “No, no, it would just be me and a few other people.” I go, “You need to elaborate on this story right now.” And she goes, “Oh, okay, I used to date the center for the Miami Heat.” As soon as you hear that the mother of your child used to date an NBA center, even if this guy’s even slightly in proportion… a lot of things flood through your head. First thing is, “That’s why your cunt’s so fucked up.” That’s a big one. “That’s why our child came out while you were walking. I understand.” So she said, “I used to date the center for the Miami Heat. His best friend was Dennis Rodman. Dennis Rodman used to go out with Madonna, and we used to go over to Madonna’s house.” And she goes, “This one time, the four of us were over at Madonna’s house, and we were all fucked up on drugs, and one thing led to another…” And then I went, “Shut the fuck up!” And she went, “What?” I said, “I know what ‘one thing led to another’ means! You all started fucking each other!” And she went, “We did. We started…” “Just shut up!” And she goes, “What do you care for?” I said, “You’re the mother of my child! I don’t wanna picture you being fucked by a 7’2″ NBA player while you’re licking out Madonna’s muscular vagina and Dennis Rodman is in the corner stroking his tattooed cock, going…” [Moaning] And she goes, “Oh, you’re being silly. What do you care for? You’ve partied way more than I have in my life.” And I went, “That is not true. I’ve gotten wasted way more than you have, but I have, in no way, partied way more than you have. Often, I get wasted just by myself. I wouldn’t call it a party.” For most of my career, I was a struggling comedian, right? And this is how struggling comedians party, right? It’s 5:00 a.m., Monday, right? We’re in a one-bedroom apartment. Seven of us are standing around a coffee table, trying to stretch out two grams of coke. One of us is at the end of the table giving conspiracy theories… and the rest of us are talking about where women might be. One of us has come up with a plan. The plan goes like this, “Well… nurses will be finishing their shift soon. Maybe if we just stand out the front of the ER, they’ll appreciate seven funny guys.” [Chuckles] I don’t… You know, I’ve never partied like a model. I have partied twice in my life. Twice. Like, really partied. I’ve had good nights out, but I’ve really partied twice. If you really party, and most people never experience this, it’s an amazing thing. It happens in Vegas. It can only happen in Vegas, and it’s gotta involve celebrity, right? I’m not famous, but the people around me were super famous, and I was at this party in the night club, and they took me in. And then there’s the night club, but then there’s the real night club out the back, which is, like, the size of this stage. It’s only a little room. And you go back there and you can just… They encourage you to take drugs in the open, and you’re just doing it off a key, [Sniffs] and they’re going, “No, dude. Use the table. Don’t use your…” And I go, “Oh, oh. Oh, sorry. Um…” And it’s confusing at first, and then their security will drag women off that other night club into your room. Just bring ’em in like, “Huh?” And you can do this. You can go… “Uh…” Like that. And they’ll drag these women away. It is the best thing you’ll ever do with your life. When you party that hard as a man, there’s a lot of remorse ’cause you have to tip everyone a lot of money. You wake up in the morning with a terrible hangover, and you go to your friends. You go, “Oh, my God. We partied so hard last night. I spent $5,000.” When a hot girl parties that hard, she wakes up in the morning and goes, “Oh, my God. We partied so hard last night. I made $5,000.” And that’s a vastly different emotion that… I don’t think women will never… Yeah, okay. This is the thing. In America, at the moment, they’re trying to raise the minimum wage to, I don’t know, $16 an hour or something like that, and whenever they bring up this argument, they always go, “And still to this day, women only earn 70% of what men earn in the workplace.” And of course, that’s disgusting. How dare women earn so much? Like… a lot of things that I say tonight will be jokes that I don’t actually mean, but this is something I’m really passionate about. Women do not deserve to earn as much money as men in the workplace. I’m sorry. I… [Audience whooping] I’m not being a misogynistic bastard, right? I’m not saying that women don’t work as hard. I’m sure they do. I’m not saying they don’t do as good a job. What I’m saying is they don’t deserve to earn as much money as men. Right? Men need that extra 30% to buy meals and drinks and Jim Jefferies tickets and all that shit! [Audience cheering] Now… I’m sure there’s women in this room that are saying, “Oh, I pay for my drinks. I bought my own ticket.” And don’t think we don’t appreciate the uglies, ’cause we do. Right? We do. But there’s little things in society that you can’t change. Men have extra expenses that you’ll never understand. There’s holidays that are just for women. Like Valentine’s Day is just for women. They say it’s for romantics. They say it’s for couples or something like that. It’s just for women. There’s no man who gets excited by Valentine’s Day. There’s no man that when he sees the Valentine’s Day decorations go up in the shopping mall, he goes, “Oh, Valentine’s Day is coming!” Valentine’s Day is a mathematical equation that every man has in his head, and it goes like this, “How much money do I have to spend today so that you won’t act like a cunt?” It doesn’t stop there. Mother’s Day! Mother’s Day rocked around in my house when my son was six months old. My girlfriend’s first Mother’s Day. And she went, “Oh, I wonder what I’ll get for Mother’s Day.” And I went, “Probably fucking nothing. He’s got no money. He’s six months old. What do you think he’s gonna buy you?” Within an hour, her friends were over at the house, just by coincidence, telling me what a bad person I was and how important Mother’s Day is to a new mum, you know? And so, I went and bought her a cappuccino machine ’cause I assumed that’s what Hank would have wanted her to have… and I wrote a card. I’m not a bastard. I wrote a card. I’m right-handed. So I got my left hand. Every new dad knows this. You get the crayon and you go, [Imitating child] “Happy Mother’s Day. Love, Hank.” And I went, “H-A-N…” And then I did the “K” back-to-front because he’s a fucking moron. See, now I know there’s people in the room, they’re thinking, “Well, fathers have Father’s Day.” Father’s Day is bullshit. It’s fucking shit, Father’s Day. Father’s Day came around and my girlfriend went, “What do you want for Father’s Day?” And I went, “I don’t want anything. Don’t even worry about it. I don’t want anything.” And she goes, “Come on. You gotta have something.” I said, “Honestly, I don’t want anything.” And she goes, “Come on.” And I went, “It’s my fucking money. Just don’t touch it. Just leave my money alone. How hard is this? How about, for 24 hours, you don’t touch my fucking money? That would be a gift.” That’s why every single father has that one Father’s Day gift that they cherish, and it’s shit! It’s, like, a fucking ceramic mug that the kid made in school where the handle’s too big, and it says, “I heart Dad.” And they keep that for 20 fucking years, this mug. And do you wanna know why they like it? Every now and again, they look at it and go… “That cost me nothing, that mug.” [Audience whooping] See… wouldn’t it be nice to have one day that was for men and for fathers and all that type of stuff, but didn’t cost anything, that everyone could participate in, right? I’ve got it, right? April 18th… Anal Sex Day. [Men cheering loudly] It’s good, isn’t it? Everyone’s girlfriend or wife has to take it in the ass on April 18th. It’s nice. A month before, you’d be walking around the shopping center going, “Oh, the decorations are up!” [Men whooping] And it’s good ’cause if your bird didn’t take it in the ass, you could do the same thing that women do on Valentine’s Day when they don’t get a gift. You could go like, “Oh, me mate, Jason, his wife took it in the ass twice. Yeah, obviously, they’re more connected than we are. They’ve, uh…” I’m thinking, I don’t do much merchandise after my shows and stuff, but I’m thinking of bringing out some April 18th T-shirts. Not even putting “Jim Jefferies” on them or anything. Just T-shirts that say, “April 18th.” ‘Cause it’s good, right? You’re in a bar. You’re a guy. You see a guy at the other end of the bar with an April 18th, and you go… Fucking friends for life, right? But even better, you see a girl with an April 18th T-shirt. The weird thing is I’m bigging-up anal sex here, and I don’t even really like fucking girls in the ass that much. I’m not even a huge fan. I much prefer the cunt. I think it’s a much more… I think that a cunt is a much more purpose-built thing to fuck. But, you know, anal sex… Oh, you know… I do it. I get involved, ’cause I feel like I have to. You know, I… But I’ve never been a big fan of the ass fucking, I, uh… When I watch it on porn, it seems very inviting. The girl’s taking it so fluently in her ass, and she seems to be having fun, and, uh… But the thing is, you can’t smell porn. You don’t smell porn. You just… You just watch it. They never… And it’s different, porn. It’s different. They clean the girl’s asshole. They pump water into it until it’s very hygienic. I’m sure. And the girl seems to be so happy. She’s like… You’ve got it in her pussy, you’re fucking her, and then she’s like, “Put it in my ass.” She’s inviting. It’s like you’re doing her a favor in porn. And then she’s like… She says things… I don’t know, things like, “I’m enjoying that. Keep putting it in my ass. Fuck my ass. I love a cock in my ass.” And… And the experience I’ve had in my own life has been vastly different. I’ve… My experience has been a lot of crying. Now, although that can help you come at times, it’s not what you want… It’s not what you want for every day. I like the girl who acts like she’s enjoying it. Like, you know when your girlfriend’s like, “I’m gonna act like I enjoy it.” She does that whole, “Yeah. Oh, no, that’s good.” [Moaning] Ahh! ♪ I’m having a good time ♪ And then they’re always going, “Are you done? Are you close to done?” You never fuck a pussy and they go, “Are you almost done? Finish this.” Like that. If you’re fucking ass, they don’t want you… They want it all over, quick. And they do other things, the porn girls. I don’t know how much they get paid. I’m sure it’s more than what the men get paid. It’s the opposite bit of society. Um… But they do a thing called “ATM.” I don’t know if you know what that is, kids. That stands for “ass to mouth.” That’s where the porn girl will pull the cock from out of her anus, and she’ll put it directly in her mouth, and she’ll say something like, “I love the taste of my ass. Let me taste my ass.” And then the man, as a favor to this woman, puts his cock in her mouth to congratulate her on the fine work… [Applause] she’s been doing. Now, I had a drunken night with my ex-girlfriend where she thought she’d be all wild and try that. Once again, vastly different experience. I’m not a big fan of the ass fucking, and I don’t know of any man, if they’re truthful, really is. Now, there’s women in the room who are thinking, “Well, why does my guy constantly bother me to fuck me in my ass?” [Woman shouting] What a good question. [Woman whoops] Women, the reason that men like fucking you in the ass is because… we know you fucking hate it. [Cheering] So… I’m a father. Um… I love my son! I love my son the same way that I love cigarettes. I like to hold him for five minutes every hour, and the rest of the time, I’m thinking about how he’s fucking killing me. He’s a good little boy. No, he’s a great little fella. I really like him. Um… My girlfriend super loves him, though. It’s fucking creepy. And… I’m glad I have a son. That worked out good for me. I wouldn’t be a good father to a girl. It wouldn’t be good for me. Nothing weird. Wouldn’t fuck it. I… I just don’t get along with women. You know how it is. I don’t want them in my house, and… So… Because you dream, see… For example, okay? When Hank was born… the couple over the road, within two weeks of Hank being born, had a baby girl, and rightly or wrongly, the first thing that went through my head was… “Aw, that’s great. I hope Hank fucks that one day.” That’s what I think… ‘Cause that’s what I think about my son. I hope when he’s of age, he just fucks everything. I don’t care if my son is gay or straight. All I care about is, when he is of age, that he gets every bit of fucking pussy or cock that he desires. That is my dream for my son! [Audience cheering] But never in the history of fathers and daughters, has a father held his baby girl and gone, “Oh, I hope you have a lot of cocks through you in your life. I hope you’re never shy of a cock. I hope you pass out at parties and all the boys are queuing up.” Right, you know… And it’s not just me. Women treat baby girls and baby boys differently as well. My girlfriend goes to the gym every morning. I go there very occasionally, and when you go to the gym, there’s a little daycare crèche thing in the gym where you can hand your child off, and inside that daycare, there’s, like, three women in their 50s. They’re very nice ladies, and you hand your kid off and he plays. Then when you finish your workout, you come and get him. And there’s a woman that works there who just loves my son. She sees all the other kids, but she loves Hank, and Hank fucking loves her, and the two of them light up when they see each other. And it’s super cute, I bring Hank up the stairs, and he starts going, “Uh, uh!” Trying to reach at her, all right? And she does this, she goes, “Everyone, my boyfriend’s here. Here’s my boyfriend. Give him here. He’s my boyfriend.” And then she kisses him, and she goes, ♪ My boyfriend gives me kisses My boyfriend gives me kisses ♪ It’s fucking adorable. But I tried doing that with a baby girl… Let’s say you go to the gym and there’s a daycare, and me and a couple of my mates are working there. “Hey, everyone… me girlfriend’s here. Give her here. Give her here. She’s my girlfriend. My girlfriend gives me kisses. You know that, right? She’s always giving me kisses. Enjoy your workout. Don’t worry about a thing.” [Applause] [Cheering] So… Also… it’s just easier to bring up a son than it is a daughter. It’s just little things. Even when they’re babies, it’s just easier. There’s a wiping technique when you’re wiping a baby’s ass. I don’t know if you have children, but this is how you do it. The baby lays on its back. You put their feet together. You lift the feet up, and then you go in and wipe. With a boy, you can wipe like that. Up and down, side to side, whatever the fuck you want, right? With a girl, you gotta wipe downward and away. Downward and away. It’s very important that you wipe away from the cunt. Very important. ‘Cause it turns out that women of all ages hate having shit in their cunts. They do. They fucking hate it. Boys don’t give a shit. Fucking… My son will have shit all over his dick and balls, and I’ll be cleaning it off under the foreskin, and he’ll be laughing like it’s the best day ever. Even at my age now, I find it funny if I have shit on my dick. If I fuck my girlfriend in the ass, I pull out, I’ve got shit on my dick, I’ll ring me mate Jason up and go, “Hey, Jason… It’s happened again. I got shit on my dick.” And he’ll tell me a similar story about when he had shit on his dick, and we’ll laugh and laugh and laugh. But never in the history of women has there been a woman with shit in her cunt and she’s thought, “Oh, I can’t wait to call Karen.” [Chuckles] [Laughs] When you… When my girlfriend got pregnant… When you meet… When you haven’t got a child, couples who have children are always bragging about how cool it is to have children. Whenever you meet couples with children they’re always like, “It is the most fulfilling thing I’ve ever done with my life. My heart grows larger and larger every day.” And then the second that my girlfriend got pregnant, those same people went like this, “You’re never gonna sleep again! [Laughs maniacally] Forget about it. It’s over. You’re not gonna sleep.” They’re constantly telling you you’re not gonna sleep. Raising a baby is not that hard. I’ll tell you what, it’s easier than a coke habit. I had a coke habit for seven-and-a-half fucking years! At least it’s not me who wakes up crying anymore! I can sleep through other people crying. I’ve had girlfriends. That’s like white noise to me. I find it soothing. See, me and my girlfriend, just two months, we went, “Fuck it! Let’s have a kid.” Fucking did it, right? These other people, man… You know these couples, and they date from high school, and then they go out for a bit longer, and then after being together for like, seven years, they go, “We’re getting engaged. You wanna come to the party?” And you wanna say, “No, you’re really boring and we hate you.” But you go, “Oh, okay, great. You’re still together, are you? You fucked one person, have you? Oh, how exciting.” And… And then what they do is they don’t have a kid right away because they’re still not ready. “We have to see how our careers are going and shit.” And what they do is they get a dog, and then they act like the fucking dog’s their baby. They refer to it as their fucking baby. They send you a Christmas card of them holding the dog… and it says, “From our family to yours.” And then you have a barbecue, and you invite them, the humans, right? Then they come over. This fucking dog runs in, jumping over everything, and you’re like, “What the fuck is this shit?” And they’re like, “We had to bring him. We bring our baby everywhere.” And you go, “Well, your baby is biting my actual baby. Can you control…” And then, eventually, they decide they’re gonna have a kid ’cause they’ve learned so much from the dog, and then they bring the kid back, and the dog runs up, like, “What’s happening? A new person.” And they’re like, “Fuck off. We don’t love you anymore. We’re going.” And they think they’ve learnt something from the dog, and they haven’t learnt anything. What happens if your girlfriend’s away on work and the dog dies? You go off, you buy another dog that looks similar to the original dog… try to pass it off as the same dog. What happens if your girlfriend’s away on work and the baby dies? Very hard… to get a baby that looks exactly the same in the short period of time that you have. Easier if you’re black or Asian. [Audience cheering] Boston, no! No! No! Shut up! I will not put up with racism at my shows, okay? I’m not saying ’cause they look the same. I’m saying ’cause they’re easier to purchase. [Audience cheering] [Audience whooping] If Angelina Jolie and Madonna have taught us anything… it is that you can buy black and Asian people. I’m yet to see a black celebrity couple come home from Norway with a child, going… “Yolanda, quick, get Hans. Bring him over. Come on.” [Jeffries chuckles] I’m gonna talk about something now that sort of splits the crowd a little bit. Uh… Gun control. Now… No, wait. Before you… Don’t get excited because the other people have guns. The anti-gun people are like, “Yeah! Do it, Jim!” No, let’s just… [Shushes] Now, before I start saying this, I wanna say this, right? I believe in your right as Americans to have guns. I’m not trying to stop you from having guns. All I’m saying is this is my personal belief on the opinion. My opinion on the… Oh, it doesn’t matter. I don’t like guns, right? I’m gonna say some things that are just facts, right? In Australia, we had guns, right? Right up until 1996. In 1996, Australia had the biggest massacre on Earth. It still hasn’t been beaten. And… Now, after that, they banned the guns. Now, in the 10 years before Port Arthur, there was 10 massacres. Since the gun ban in 1996, there hasn’t been a single massacre since. I don’t know how or why this happened, uh… Maybe it was a coincidence, right? Now, please understand that I understand that Australia and America are two vastly different cultures with different people, right? I get it. In Australia, we had the biggest massacre on Earth, and the Australian government went, “That’s it! No more guns!” And we all went, “Yeah, all right, then. That seems fair enough, really.” Now, in America, you had the Sandy Hook massacre where little, tiny children died, and your government went, “Maybe… we’ll get rid of the big guns?” And 50% of you went, “Fuck you! Don’t take my guns!” [Whooping] So, here’s where it gets confusing, right? Now, as I said, I am all for your Second Amendment rights. I think you should be able to have guns. It’s in your constitution. What I am not for is bullshit arguments and lies. There is one argument and one argument alone for having a gun, and this is the argument… “Fuck off. I like guns.” It’s not the best argument, but it’s all you’ve got. And there’s nothing wrong with it. There’s nothing wrong with saying, “I like something. Don’t take it away from me.” But don’t give me this other bullshit. The main one is, [In American accent] “I need it for protection. I need to protect me. I need to protect my family.” Really? Is that why they’re called “assault rifles”? Is it? I’ve never heard of these fucking “protection rifles” you speak of. Protection? What the fuck are you talking about? You have a gun in your house, you’re 80% more likely to use that gun on yourself, than to shoot someone else. And people think, “Well, that’d never happen to me.” You don’t know that, because you know what?
♪ From time to time We all get sad ♪ 
♪ One day you’re happy Then you’re sad ♪ 
♪ And then, uh-oh ♪
Protection. I had a break-in in Manchester, England, where I was tied up, I had my head cut. They threatened to rape my girlfriend. They came through the window with a machete and a hammer, and Americans always go, [In American accent] “Well, imagine if you had a gun.” And I’m like, “All right. I was naked at the time. I wasn’t wearing my holster. I wasn’t staring at the window waiting for cunts with machetes to come through.” What world do you live in where you’re constantly fucking ready? You have guns ’cause you like guns! That’s why you go to gun conventions! That’s why you read gun magazines! None of you give a shit about home security. None of you go to home security conventions. None of you read Padlock Monthly. None of you have a Facebook picture of you behind a secure door going, “Fucking yeah!” Like you’re going to be ready if someone comes into your house. You have it at all fucking times. By the way, most people who are breaking into your house just want your fucking TV! You think that people are coming to murder your family? How many fucking enemies do you have? Jeez, you think a lot of yourself if you think everyone’s coming to murder you. See, if you have it readily available, it becomes unsafe. You have it in your bedside table, one of your kids picks it up, thinks it’s a toy, shoots another one of your kids. Happens every fucking day, but people go, “That’d never happen in my house ’cause I’m a responsible gun owner. I keep my guns locked in a safe.” Then they’re no fucking protection! Someone comes into the house, you’re like, “Wait there, fuck-face! Oh! You’ve come to the wrong house here, buddy boy. I tell you what. I’m gonna fuck you up! Okay. Is it 32 to the left or 32 to the right? Your mother’s birthday? Why the fuck would I know your fucking mother’s birthday? Maybe if you didn’t leave the window open [In whining voice] ‘because it’s too hot in here,’ we wouldn’t be getting fucking murdered, right?” I find the NRA to be hard work. The fact that they always think the answer is more guns. After Sandy Hook happened, the NRA said, and I quote, “None of this would have happened if the teachers had guns.” I… I think they’re forgetting what school was like. Does anyone remember that casual teacher that used to… Whenever she came into school, that relief teacher came, you and your friends would see her and go, [Chuckling] “Oh, we’re gonna make her cry.” And then she’d stand in front of the class with a bit of chalk and her hands would be shaking, and you’d go, “You’re never getting married, are you, Miss? Never gonna happen for you.” Then she’d get back to her 1967 Volkswagen Beetle, and she’d be crying over the steering wheel, just, “Why don’t they like me?” Let’s give that cunt a gun and see how things work out! [Audience cheering] And then they go, “Oh, well, answer to that, we’ll just add more guns.” They go, “We’ll put an armed security guard at every school across America.” Yeah, that’ll work out. The average security guard in America earns $16 an hour. Not a lot of wiggle room to be a fucking hero! Someone comes onto the school and… [Mimicking machine gun] And you’ve got Kevin. Now, I’m sure Kevin’s shit-hot at Call of Duty, but it might not fucking cut it, ladies and gentlemen. Now, I understand that when I’m doing this joke in this room, 50% of you agree with me, 50% of you don’t agree with me, and I do respect the people who don’t agree with me. Don’t think I don’t. Out of the 50% that don’t agree with me, 20% of those people are smart enough to realize this is a comedy show and it’s not to be taken seriously, and they’re laughing along ’cause it’s just funny jokes, right? And then the next 20%, have sort of phased out a little bit. They’re looking around, going, “Wonder how they got that chandelier up there?” And then… there’s the last 10%. And they’re fucking furious. Right now, in this room and the people watching at home… 10% of you are fucking seething. Just… And for a couple of reasons. First reason, I’m making good points. [Audience cheering] Second reason. Second reason. Second reason, and this is the big one, I’m foreign… and that’s pissing the fuck out of you right now, and your brain is on a loop and you can’t fucking turn it off, and it’s just going around in a circle, and you’re just going, “If you don’t like it, go home! If you don’t like it, go home!” And my answer to that is, “No.” I came here legally. I pay my taxes. I’ll say whatever the fuck I want. Your First Amendment means that I can say the Second Amendment sucks dicks. And… unless you’re an American Indian, you’re a fucking immigrant as well, so fuck off. People get so precious about it. I understand that to Americans, your constitution is very important. I respect it, but please understand that every country has one as well. It’s no more special than any other constitution. We have one in Australia. I don’t know what it says. I’ve never seen it. If there’s a problem, we’ll check it, but everything’s going fine. And don’t get me wrong. I get that the constitution is important to you. I have had… Fucking, I get it, right? I’ve had people come up to me in my face and scream at me in car parks as I’m leaving the theater, going, [In American accent] “You cannot change the Second Amendment!” And I’m like, “Yes, you can. It’s called an ‘amendment.'” If you can’t change something that’s called an “amendment”, see, many of you need a thesaurus more than you need a constitution. And if you don’t know what a thesaurus is, get a dictionary and work your way forward. Don’t think your constitution is set in stone. You’ve changed things before. You used to have prohibition in there, right? And then people were like, “Hey, who likes getting fucked up? Yeah, I like getting fucked up, too. Let’s get that one out. Let’s get that one out.” You used to have this other thing in America called, uh… slavery! And then Lincoln came along and went, “That’s it. No more slaves!” And 50% of you went, “Fuck you! Don’t take my slaves!” And the same bullshit arguments came out that you have with guns. “Why should I have my slaves taken off me? I’m a responsible slave owner. I’m trained in how to use my slaves safely. Just because that guy mistreated his slaves doesn’t mean that my rights should be taken away from me. I… I use my slaves to protect my family! I keep my slaves locked in a safe!” That’s the thing. “Why should I have my guns taken off me? I’ve done nothing wrong.” Look, I agree with you. If you’re a responsible gun owner and you don’t fuck around with them, then you should be allowed your guns. You really should. But that’s not how society works. We have to play to the 1% that are such fuckwits they ruin it for the rest of us. We have to walk as slow as our slowest person to keep society fucking moving, right? I take drugs like a fucking champion, right? [Audience cheering] We should all be allowed to take fucking drugs, but we can’t, can we? Because Sarah took drugs and she stabbed her fucking kids. Oh! “Oh, thanks, Sarah. You fucked it up for everyone.” Right? Everyone should be allowed to drive their car as fast as they can do it, right? But we can’t because Jonathan got drunk and ran over a family. “Thanks, Jonathan! Now I have to drive at 30, you fucking idiot!” See, that’s the thing. “Why should I have my guns taken off me, I’m responsible, just because that guy’s crazy?” Who’s to say you’re not crazy? That’s the thing about crazy people. They don’t know they’re crazy. That’s what makes them crazy. The only thing you know for sure on this Earth is, “I think, therefore I am.” You know that you exist. Anything past that is open to interpretation, right? You know you exist and that’s it. Right now, I think I’m in Boston talking to 1,200 people. That’s what I think I’m doing, but there is a good to fair chance that I’m in a mental home, standing in front of a white wall, going, [Slurring speech] “I hate guns. I hate guns. I hate guns.” [Audience applauding] See, one of the better arguments is, “Well, if you take the guns away, then only the criminals will have guns.” Not true. When they banned the guns in Australia, it worked. When they banned them in Britain, it worked, okay? The Bushmaster gun that the kid was gonna use in Sandy Hook costs, like, $1,000 American and you can buy it in Walmart. It’ll be delivered to your house. That’s it, man. 1,000 bucks, right? That same gun in Australia on the black market costs $34,000. Now if you have $34,000, you don’t need to be a criminal. You’ve got $34,000. You’re a great little saver. Keep going. So that covers the criminals, but that doesn’t cover the people who wanna murder your family, that are coming after you and your family. It kind of does. The people who do the massacres, it covers them ’cause they go… The kid at Colorado who thought he was The Joker, let’s say that he had some social issues. The kid at Sandy Hook was Asperger’s as fuck. Right? I don’t know if you know a lot about the black market, but you can’t just rock up at the docks going, [Slurring speech] “Guns! Who wants to sell me a gun?” Now, I’m gonna wrap this up. We won’t talk about it anymore. Now… See, the one thing that I do really agree with with the right to bear arms, I really agree with… That the real reason it was written was so that you could form a militia to fight against a tyrannical government. In case the government became a bunch of cunts, you could all get your guns and fight back, and that’s why it was written. – [Audience cheering] – Yeah! And that made a hell of a lot of sense when it was just muskets. But you do know the government has drones, right? You get that? You’re bringing guns to a drone fight! If we went back to muskets, I’m all for it! Keep the Second Amendment. If we all have muskets… Muskets are awesome! Every cunt should be carrying a musket with him at all times. You know what’s good about the musket? It gives you a lot of time to calm down. Someone calls your wife fat, and you’re like, “Fuck you, buddy! Ah, you’re not a bad guy. You’re all right.” Now… after the show, we’re gonna go out, have a big party around Boston, see how it goes. I’m not allowed to go to strip clubs anymore. My girlfriend has said that’s a no… ’cause I don’t behave myself in there, so I’m not allowed to go to them anymore. ‘Cause strip clubs aren’t what women think they are. [Stammers] It used to be like… Okay, so, when a man goes to a strip club, it’s all about girls being as dirty and as horrible to each other as possible. That’s what men want to see. Women, when they go to their Magic Mike clubs or whatever the fuck they are… women wanna see a guy, “Hey, ladies. He’s a fireman.” And he comes out with his hose and like that… And whenever a stripper takes their clothes off, they’ve still got the fireman’s hat on or a tool belt on or policeman’s gun on a holster, right? Because even when a man’s naked, a woman wants to know that he has a job. When men watch strippers, we want them to have a job, and that job’s stripping. We want to just look at that girl dancing and have a hand full of money, and just go… “You can’t take care of your kids.” It’s… And when men get private dances in these strip clubs, I don’t know… I don’t know if women actually know what goes on in those rooms, but basically, it’s dry humping. There’s no dancing. The girl gets in front. She gets where your cock is, pushes it to one side and then she rubs on it… and then she stands over and puts her cunt right in your face, and you go… That’s what a private “dance” is, right? I don’t know if there’s private dancing in female strip clubs. [Stammering] I can’t imagine that there would be. I don’t imagine a woman getting out of a back room and going up to her friend and going… She goes, “How was it?” And she goes, “Well… he just sat me down and then he grabbed my genitals… and then he dragged his scrotum over my forehead. I got to go to the ATM.” So Legit got canceled. [Audience booing] Yeah. I know. I know it. Who would’ve thought it would’ve struggled on that great FXX channel that everyone knew about? The first season is on Netflix. This special is being recorded for Netflix. So you can go watch it there if you’re watching the special. It was… I’m very proud of it. We had two great seasons of really good television, and if people didn’t… Now… The whole TV show is based around one standup routine that I used to do about having a friend with muscular dystrophy that I took to a brothel, which is a true story. And so, when we cast a character with muscular dystrophy who… In the end, we used DJ Qualls, and DJ Qualls is the skinny white guy out of the movie Road Trip. He’s the skinny white guy out of the movie Hustle & Flow, and he’s the white guy out of the movie Hustle & Flow. Now… the great thing about DJ is… he already looks disabled. He has that “latter stages of AIDS” thing going on. It’s great for casting. Anyway, but… I didn’t want DJ to begin with. I wanted a person with muscular dystrophy to make it look authentic, and the Actors’ Union of America said, “You cannot do that.” Because basically the problem is people with muscular dystrophy, I think, are only allowed to work for two hours a day before they get too tired. And I said, “All right, what other disabilities and diseases are allowed to work longer?” And they sent me a list. And on this list, I said, “Can you get rid of all the contagious ones? And what have we got left?” So I saw every disabled actor in Hollywood, and I’ll be honest with you, not that many of them. I don’t know why. Maybe they’re just lazy. They don’t wanna work. Maybe they give up on their dreams rather quickly. And none of them were very good, either. Everyone we saw, none of them were very good ’cause acting is all about what you do with your hands. None of them knew what to do with their hands, and… they all came in. Until this one guy came in. I had seen a lot of people that day. This guy was the most disabled person I’d ever seen in my life. He was like… Think of the most disabled person you’ve seen, then double it. …really super disabled. He was shaped like a pretzel. He was being carried in by this big Russian nurse, carried him in. He made that great disabled sound of… [Groans] That one. I just loved him. Anyway… so he comes in for the audition… and I’m sitting there, and we’re doing the lines together, and at first, I didn’t know if he was mentally all there either, so I was being a little bit patronizing. I was going, “Thank you so much for coming in.” And then we did the dialog together, and I didn’t have to worry about a thing. This kid was funny. He was smart. His timing was impeccable. I thought he was just great, and I helped him out of the room, and I come back to the director and I said, “That’s our guy. That’s who we gotta pick.” And he agreed, but we had to see everyone else who was still in the waiting room. So the next bloke wheels himself in. Now, obviously, he’s just a paraplegic if he’s wheeling himself in, which means the waist down, and that didn’t really suit me because… paraplegics can get themselves to a hooker without my assistance. But I thought… “If he’s a good enough actor, maybe he can quad-up for the role.” So he comes in… He comes in, I shake his hand, and his leg slightly comes out at the same time. And I went, “Whoa! What’s going on there, kicky?” And he goes… “Oh, you got me! I’m not disabled.” And I said, “You’re fucking what now?” And he goes, “I’m not disabled. I just really wanted the role, so I rented a wheelchair.” And I said, “Just shut up. So let me… This is how your day has mapped-out thus far. You woke up this morning. You drove to the wheelchair rental place. You rented a wheelchair. You carried it out, I assume. You put it in the trunk of your car. You drove here. You got the wheelchair out. You carried it up three flights of stairs. You went to the waiting room. You put it down next to the severely disabled man and his nurse. Then you sat in it and practiced your lines.” And he went… “Yeah.” And I said, “You’re a fucking asshole, mate. Get the fuck out of here.” And I kicked him out. And later on that day, I’m sitting there with all the headshots of all the different actors I’m gonna call to tell them they’ve got parts, and I’m holding this disabled guy’s headshot, and I just think, “I’m gonna call this guy up. I’m gonna change his life. This is an awesome moment, right?” And I’m looking at it, and he looks super handsome in his headshot. He looked really like… And I thought, “This has gotta be the greatest photographer with the fastest shutter in camera history.” The shutter on his camera has gotta be like… [Mimicking camera shutter] Like… [Audience applauding] And then I read the guy’s biography… and then it dawned on me. “This guy’s not disabled either! I hated the other fucker for renting a wheelchair! This cunt rented a nurse!” Do you wanna know the level of fucking psychosis you have to go through to rent a fucking nurse? I’m all for a method actor. Get into character three hours before, but once you finish the audition, stand up and go, “Ta-da!” And we would have gone, “That was very good.” But I’ll tell you what you don’t do. Don’t make me carry you to your car! I carried him down three flights of stairs going, “You did very good.” He’s like, “Thank you, Jim.” [Laughing] [Chuckles] I was, uh… I go to a therapist… ’cause I get depressed. So I got a therapist every now and again. I literally had one of those moments with my therapist where she was saying words like, “I’m gonna say a word and you say the first thing that comes in your mind.” Like just out of the movies, right? And she went, “Red,” and I went, “Blue.” And then she went, “Cooking,” and I went, “Food,” and all that type of stuff. We went like this forever. And then she went… For the last question, she went, “And what’s your favorite thing in the world?” And I went… “Coming on a girl’s face.” Now… Now, I could’ve said things like… “Ice cream” is a good answer. “Hank” would’ve been an excellent answer. But I said, “Coming on a girl’s face.” And I’ve had six months to think about my answer, and I stand by it. – I… – [Cheering] I’m not proud of it. I hate myself for thinking it. It’s such a horrible thing to do to another human. When a girl’s on her knees and you… It’s so… And as an atheist, I believe in Darwin and all the things that he wrote, but he never had a bit where he explained that. There was never a bit in his book where he went, “When a caveman loves a cavewoman, he’ll ejaculate on her face so that flies won’t come near.” There was never that… never that moment. But, by golly, if it’s not fun. I find it… To… Look, to all the girls who take a load on their face from time to time, may I say, “Bravo!” Don’t… don’t think what you do… has gone unnoticed. We notice. We appreciate your work. I think you deserve a parade of some kind. During Memorial Day, after the Vietnam vets, before the First Gulf War guys, we could bring in, “And here’s the women who take a load on their face.” And you could march out, and married men would stand there going, “God bless you, ladies.” [Audience cheering] I enjoy your acting that you do. The standard tongue out and the… Like that… I don’t know why, but I enjoy… I know it’s a lie. I know you’re not excited, but I still appreciate the effort is what I enjoy. I love the look because it’s such a, “Oh, jeez, I’m excited, too. When this come hits my face, there’s a good chance I’ll also orgasm. Anything could happen in this crazy world.” But this is what redeems us as men. This is what redeems us. Just know that the second the come shoots out of our cock and hits your face, our bodies flood with remorse. The next 20 seconds is the nicest we will ever be to you. [Men whooping] I go from being an animal to the sweetest guy on Earth. I’m like, “You fucking slut… Oh, I love you. Ah… Uh, all right. No, no, no. Put your tongue back in. Um… Keep your eyes shut. Just keep them shut. Uh… All right, I’m going to get a towel. I’ll get a towel. I’ll get you a towel. All right. You’re a wonderful mother to our child.” [Laughs] [Audience cheering] See… this is what kills me. My son will one day watch this DVD. And I’m the guy who’s meant to teach him right from wrong, and I’m there wiping come off his mother’s face. I think I did something illegal with my son the other day. I think it might be illegal. Tell me if this is illegal. All right? I’m in the shower. My girlfriend goes off to the gym in the morning, and when she came back, I was in the shower, and Hank ran up, and he started banging on the glass door of the shower like, “Argh!” Like that. And I went… [Vocalizing] And I saw his little face and I went, “Hello, Hankie.” And then in the condensation, I drew a little bowtie on him… and a little suit… and then I gave him a voice bubble that said, “I love my daddy. Love, Hank.” But I did it so I could read it. Well, of course he could read the “K,” and… then I stepped out. I stepped out of the bathroom and I went, “G’day, Hankie!” And he slapped my cock and he ran off. Now, is that illegal? I don’t know. Is it illegal because, A, a child touched my cock, or because, B, I found it really funny and I’ve been telling everyone. And I can’t get angry at him because his whole life, he’s been lying on mats with things dangling over. He’s been training for this his entire life. I think I’ve, uh… I think I’ve become American, more American than I am Australian lately, and there was a moment where I tipped over where I went, “Oh, I think like an American person now.” And I’m happy to do it. I just… I’ll tell you what happened. I was flying around… I was doing a tour of Australia, and I was flying domestically around Australia, and I’m so used to airports and stuff here in America that… Okay, what happens is, when you go… I was flying Sydney to Melbourne. When you fly domestically in Australia, you go up to the machine, put your name in, prints your ticket out, it prints your bag thing, you put the bag thing on your bag yourself, and then there’s a conveyor belt underneath. You throw your bag on. Bag fucks off. You don’t speak to anyone. Then I go up to the gate bit, and the lady’s going, “Tickets, please.” And I’m holding my ID out like a fucking simpleton. ‘Cause I get through airports quick, man. I’m like, “Fucking there you go.” And she went, “Put your ID away. I don’t need to see that.” And I went… “I think you do.” And she went, “I don’t… Why would I need to see your ID?” And I said, “I might be a terrorist.” And she went, “Would showing me your ID stop you from blowing the plane up?” “No, I’d probably still blow the plane up.” So then I get up to the TSA conveyor belt thing, and I’m so good at the airports. I’m already taking my shoes off as I’m walking, right? And all the Australians behind me assume that I’m American, and they’re losing their fucking shit. They’re like, “Oh, for fuck’s sake! One of these cunts, eh?” And the TSA guy goes, “Hey, mate, what are you taking your shoes off for?” And I went… [Shouting] “I don’t know! Maybe they’re bombs?” And he went… “But they’re not, are they?” I put me shoes back on. I get my laptop out. Everyone’s going mental. And the TSA guy says, very politely, but extraordinarily sarcastically, he goes, “Jeez, mate. That’s a nice computer. Why are you showing it to everyone?” “It might also be a bomb.” And then the guy said the most Australian thing I’ve ever heard come out of anyone’s mouth ever. He went… “Oh, come on, mate. You wouldn’t have two bombs.” [Audience laughing] [Chuckles] I’m not even quite sure what that means, but it does make some type of sense. All right. Oscar Pistorius. If you haven’t been following the case, you’re missing out. This is the greatest thing since OJ Simpson. You’re fucking missing out, mate. If you don’t know who Oscar Pistorius is, let me fill you in. Oscar Pistorius is a legless man from South Africa, known as the Blade Runner. He ran in two Olympics, the disabled and the able-bodied Olympics in one year. No one has ever done that. He’s an inspiration to hundreds and millions of disabled and able-bodied people alike, and on Valentine’s Day last year, he shot and killed the hottest girl on Earth… and that’s when he became an inspiration to me… ’cause hot girls have been getting away with too much shit for too fucking long. Let that be a lesson to all you hot girls out there. You can’t just say whatever the fuck you want whenever you fucking want. [Mock tearfully] People have feelings, you cunts. Now, there’s a lot of rumors going around on what happened on that day. One of the theories is that they found in her phone… He went through her phone, and on her phone, he found some text messages from a South African rugby player on Valentine’s Day, right? Now, I don’t know if you’ve ever been to South Africa, but in South Africa, rugby is more popular than legless running. It goes, rugby, legless running, cricket. Legless running’s their second sport. You wouldn’t have thought that. Anyway… I’m going to reenact what I believe happened that day. To do that, I will now be doing a South African accent. Now I know, many of you can’t tell the difference between my accent and a South African accent. Here’s the difference. Picture my accent, but I’m punching a black person. What I’m trying to say is South Africans are horrible people. So… she’s coming out of the shower. She’s been drying her hair. She’s listening to Rodriguez or something. She comes out. He’s laying on the bed. He looks up at her, he’s holding the phone, and he goes, [In South African accent] “What the fuck is this? I’ve been through your phone. You have been texting a rugby player.” And she’s like, “Oh! Fuck you! Who the fuck do you think you are?” “Who am I? I’m Oscar Pistorius, the greatest legless runner that has ever been. That’s who the fuck I am.” “Well, I would rather be with a rugby player. At least he is a whole man, not a three-quarter man like you.” – [Audience exclaiming] – I know. [Audience laughing] “Oh! Fuck you!” “No! Fuck you! I’m leaving you!” And then she storms out of the room, and then he was like… “You fucking bitch! [Grunts] I hate you! [Grunting] You will rue the day… that you left Oscar Pistorius, the Blade Runner! Don’t go anywhere! [Grunting] I hate you!” That’s where he keeps his legs. All right. Then he put the blades on. “Oh, you’re in trouble, missy. I tell you. I go to my gun safe.” She locked herself in the bathroom. He shot her through the bathroom door. Seems like overkill, doesn’t it? Bathrooms only have little tiny locks on them, but Oscar’s one of the few men on Earth that couldn’t kick the door in, right? He was wearing the blades, so… Boing! Ah! So… I think Oscar will probably go to prison. Now… in South Africa, one in four people have AIDS. I assume it may even be worse in the prison population. Now, can I say this? Look… I’ve never raped a man. I hate that I have to put “a man” in that sentence, but whatever. I’ve never raped a man, but… if I was going to rape a man, it would be a legless Olympian… ’cause in prison, it’s all about getting one up on other people, and making people think you’re tough and all that. Like, “You want to fucking rape me? I just raped an Olympian, bitch. Is that what you fucking want?” There’d be a wonderful moment… when you’re in the showers and he was crawling away like the end of a Terminator movie. [Chuckling] You know what I like about that joke? So often when you tell a joke, the rapist is the villain in the story, but not in that one. Not in that one. He’s the hero. All right, we have to get going soon. Before I leave, – I thank you very much for coming. – [Audience groaning] No, I said, “soon,” not “over.” It’s just soon, you cunts, so calm down. [Chuckles] [Man whistles] I always… I always find that weird when someone, like, whistles like that. What do they think is going to happen? Like, I’m going to go, “Fucking you know me, mate. I was enjoying claps and cheers, but what I needed was a high-pitched squeal noise. Thank God you came along to pick up my spirits.” [Man] Love you! All right, final story. Now, I was in South Africa again. Jeez, I don’t think I’ll be working in South Africa after this special comes out. I used to do, like, one tour in South Africa every year, and I just don’t know if I’ll be invited this time. They’ll be like, [In South African accent] “We don’t like him. He’s no good.” Anyway, so, I’m in South Africa, and I had to fly back from Cape Town to Los Angeles, which is, like, a 26-hour flight. You’ve to go up to London and go across. Cunt of a trip. Um… But it was all right ’cause I had a business class ticket, so I didn’t give a fuck. And when I travel economy, I try to dress up nice ’cause I like to look good in case someone recognizes me and I might get an upgrade. But when I’ve already got a business class ticket, I try to look like a bag of shit… ’cause it’s important to me that everyone else in business class doesn’t want me there and they’re annoyed by my presence. So… I’m wearing a white T-shirt that’s got brown stains on it with a hole in the side. I’m wearing these small shorts with just one testicle hanging out. So, anyway, I go up to the counter, up to the business thing with the thing, and I go, “Hello,” and the lady goes, [In South African accent] “Oh, Mr. Jefferies, I’m so sorry, but you have been downgraded.” I said, “You what now?” She goes, “Business class is full. You have been downgraded.” And I said, “I understand that business class is full. I bought one of the tickets that made it full.” And she went, “I’m sorry, sir. There’s nothing I can do.” And then I just went, “Are you fucking kidding me?” Now, you know when you’re dealing with customer service people, and they want you to swear, ’cause as soon as you swear, they don’t have to engage with you anymore. They can act like they’re the first adult never to hear a swear word, and they can get really offended, right? So I went, “Are you fucking kidding me?” And she went, “Please do not speak to me that way! I have done nothing wrong!” And I said, “Are you, a white South African, telling me you’ve done nothing wrong?” Anyway… tensions rose. The manager comes over. Big fat cunt called Simon Fulcher, right? He walks over and goes, [In South African accent] “What is wrong here? What is wrong?” And I said, “I bought a business class ticket and I want a business class ticket.” And he goes, “What do you want me to do? Make a new chair for you? There are no more seats. I can’t do anything.” He goes, “I’ll tell you what I can do. Go up to the executive lounge. Have some peanuts. Enjoy a beverage. Listen to Rodriguez, and if something opens up, we will move you back up to business class. So I thought, “There’s nothing I can do.” So I walk off with my ticket. I’m walking through the airport like, “Fucking British Airways, bunch of fucking cunts.” Right? I get up to the counter. And the woman behind the counter said, “Tickets, please.” And I hand over my ticket and she goes, [In South African accent] “I’m sorry, sir, but this is for business class passengers only. Your ticket says ‘economy’ on it.” And I said… [Inhales sharply] “I bought a business class ticket, but you people have downgraded…” And as I was doing my little speech, she looked past me and went, “Next.” [Audience exclaiming] “Listen here, you fucking cunt.” [Audience laughing] All right? Now, you say “cunt” in any foreign country, people lose their fucking shit. Security came from everywhere. I was going, “Don’t you fucking come near me, cunt!” And I said, “I want to speak to Simon Fulcher,” like I’m… And they go, “All right.” They ring the manager up, and then they go… He goes, “Is it the pale Australian man?” And the guy went, “Yes.” He goes, “We’ve had problems with him. Let him through.” Right? So I go through. I’m sitting there, I’m eating my peanuts. And I’m just angry now, going, “Fucking British Airways. Fucking cunts, fucking…” Like that. And in walks in a group of Americans, about 30 of them. You know the type, right? They all… And whenever I see Americans abroad… I’ll do my impersonation of any American abroad. When Americans are abroad, you’re just pointing out shit you see. You’re just walking around going, [In American accent] “Oh, this is great! Look at that. That’s a chair right there. Okay. Oh, what’s that over there? Okay. Wonderful. Great.” Right? And this group walked in, and one of the women in the group went like this, she went, [In American accent] “Did anyone else see that Australian guy speaking to that lady out there? Some people have no class.” And I put my head around the pylon, and I went, “You can fuck off and all! You don’t know what I’ve been through! I’ve been downgraded!” And as I said that, 18 other people who were given the same lie that I was given, that they were going to be the next people promoted up to business class, the penny dropped. None of us are getting promoted. They all lied to us, and we formed an angry militia in seconds. It was like a scene out of Braveheart, and they all stood up and went, “Fucking downgraded!” And the woman in the group was doing this, “Don’t speak to me that way. Who the hell do you think you are?” And all the men in the group were like, “Hey, why don’t you shut the fuck up? Just shut the fuck up.” ♪ It doesn’t matter These people seem very angry, so ♪ And a guy breaks from the group and he tries to calm everyone down. And, sometimes, Americans, sometimes, you can seem a little insincere. And he came up and he went, [In American accent] “Hey. Hey. Yeah, I get it. [Exhales sharply] Downgraded, yeah. That really grinds my gears, I tell you that. Yeah, I would write a strongly-worded letter. I really would.” And then I thought, at least this guy’s being nice, and I said, “Look, mate, don’t worry about it. It’s not like it’s your fault.” And I said, “Why are you in such a big group anyway?” And he goes, “Oh, we’re in Neil Diamond’s band. That’s Neil Diamond’s backup singer you just called a cunt there.” And as he said that, Neil Diamond walked around the corner like a fucking superhero… and I reacted like he was one. I went, “Neil Diamond!” And Neil Diamond went, [In husky voice] “Hey, what’s going on?” And then, for a second there, there was a bit of my brain that thought maybe Neil Diamond could solve problems. And I went, “Neil! Me and all these people, we’ve been downgraded!” And Neil went, “Oh! Oh, right. Uh, well, maybe that’s our fault. We decided to come back a day early.” “You can fuck off and all, Neil Diamond!” And then a fight breaks out amongst the Neil Diamond band and the downgraded. Punches are thrown. Not by me. I don’t know if you have the Internet, but I’m not much of a fighter. I’m an excellent scurrier-awayer. I get down. “Hey, what have you got there? Hiya!” Anyway, the airport police came. Three people were arrested from the downgraded… but three people were arrested from the Neil Diamond band, and that meant that three seats opened up in business class. [Audience cheering] Ladies and gentlemen, thank you very much. Good night. Appreciate it. [Audience cheering] [Upbeat music playing] Thank you. Go home. Let’s have a drink. Bye."
Joe Rogan,"[rock music playing] [audience cheering] [announcer] Ladies and gentlemen, welcome Joe Rogan. [audience cheering and applauding] What the fuck is going on, San Francisco? Thanks for coming. I appreciate it! God damn! Put your phone down, fuckface! I see you, bitch! Put your phone down! Motherfuckers. They can’t use their eyes. Everybody’s gotta live through their goddamn phone. Whoo! I’m high as fuck. Whoo. It’s strange. I wasn’t sure if I was gonna do this sober. I’m like, “Ugh…” It’s not the move. Not in San Francisco. This is… I love pot, but the people that are making edibles need to slow the fuck down. Oh, my God! What are you trying to do to people? I had a pot gummy bear the other day. I think we can all agree a gummy bear shouldn’t be able to steal your soul. Right? How the fuck are these people making these things, man? They’re not consistent. That’s also part of the problem. You don’t know what you’re getting, ’cause they’re not making them the same place where they make Tylenol. Nah, it’s some greasy dude with a Grateful Dead T-shirt on and a gray ponytail. He’s got a bowl of ingredients, and he can’t remember whether or not he put weed in yet. This dude’s time traveling, just back and forth. He just keeps chucking weed in there until it looks like lawn trimmings. You eat it, and it’s not what you’re looking for. It’s not regulated. You gotta ask questions. I asked a dude at the pot store. I go, “Hey, man, how strong are the gummy bears?” He goes… That’s not a unit of measurement. He’s like, “El diablo. El diablo.” “Fuck, man. How much should I take?” “Just the leg.” “Just the leg? Why are you selling whole bears? What the fuck are you trying to prove, man?” They just watch you leave with that bear. They go, “Oh, shit.” They know. They know you’re not gonna die. You’re gonna think you’re gonna die, but everybody lives. Learn some shit. We learn some shit from the scary trips. See, the thing about edibles, one of the problems with it being illegal, is that a lot of us don’t have a lot of information that we could use. Like, there’s a difference between smoking it and eating it. When you smoke it, you get THC. But when you eat it, it’s processed by your liver, and it produces something called 11-hydroxy metabolite that’s five times more psychoactive than THC. And it lets you talk to dolphins. [audience laughs] This is a real moment that changed my life. I was in Hawaii, and we were on a boat, and we were fishing. We were pulling these lines behind the boat, and I was so high, I was trying to figure out which way the Earth was spinning. Like, the boat’s going this way, and the sun’s up there. I’m like, “Um…” For like 20 minutes, I’m paralyzed. So, while this is all happening, these dolphins just show up. And if you’ve ever been around wild dolphins, they’re very trippy. It’s very different than you expect, because they look at you. They, like, check you out. They, like, pop out of the water and they, like, look at you… like a person, not like a fucking deer or woodchuck. They look at you like another person. Granted, I was so high I thought I was gonna die, but… I’m making eye contact with these dolphins, and I started thinking, “How smart are these fucking things?” Because we’re fishing. Dolphins eat fish. But you never catch dolphins. Ever. No one has ever gone fishing and accidentally caught a dolphin. And all I could think of while these dolphins were, like, hopping through the water, and looking at us and shit… I was thinking, “If people lived in the water, you’d fucking catch ’em all day.” They wouldn’t even have to live in the water. If cheeseburgers just floated down Geary Street… at least once a week, a guy would be like, “I’m taking a chance.” And you see ’em getting yanked up to the clouds. “Fuck! We lost Billy!” The bottom of his sneakers in a puff of cloud. You don’t catch dolphins on fishhooks, man. That’s weird. They’re around fishing all the time and like, “Bitch.” They’re fucking smart. How smart? Well, I watched a dolphin documentary, and it said they have a cerebral cortex that’s 40% larger than a human being’s. I don’t know what that means, but if you say it right and don’t fuck up the words, it makes you sound smarter than you really are. I think what it means is they have big fucking brains. But we don’t think of them as being smart ’cause they don’t do what we do. Right? They don’t send e-mails. They don’t have houses. But if you lived in their world, you don’t need anything. You don’t need your fingers. No one’s typing. They have a language that’s so complex, we can’t understand it. All the food’s free. They stay where the water’s warm. I started thinking, “How fucking smart are they? What if they’re exactly the same as us? What if it’s just some different branch of evolution? We went one way. They went the other. What if consciousness is the same?” I was thinking, “What if me to me is the same as me to a dolphin?” The way you think of yourself when you say the word “me.” I was like, “What if that’s exactly how a dolphin feels? They’re just living life through different biology, different genetics, different life experiences. But if I lived a dolphin’s life, I would be him. And if he lived my life, he would be me.” And then I started thinking, “What if that’s the case with people? What if everyone is exactly the same? We’re just living life through different bodies. What if that’s the secret of happiness? Treat everyone as if it’s you living another life.” [audience cheering and applauding] I mean… And then I thought, “God damn, how good is this weed I’m getting in California? Whoo! I’m on a fucking floating craft out in the middle of the ocean, talking to water people.” The problem with treating everybody as if it’s you living another life is you wanna fucking smack yourself. Half the people you meet, you just wanna fucking smack ’em. We live in the weirdest time ever. I mean, it’s the most awesome time ever. But it’s the weirdest time ever, too. We’re, like, that close to President Trump. – [man 2] No. Boo! – “No. Boo!” You boo, but you won’t vote, you fucks! All those Bernie Sanders people, “Yo, Bernie’s the shit.” “Did you vote for him?” “Voting ain’t real, bro. It doesn’t even work, dude.” We are that close to President Trump. Bill Cosby’s a rapist, and Bruce Jenner’s a chick. We’re in an episode of Lost. Down is up and up is down! This is the type of world you get when you give kids participation trophies for getting their ass kicked in soccer games. This is the world we get! We get a goddamn Nerfed-up world filled with nonsense. Nobody wants to be president. Nobody. I hope Hillary wins. That way we can realize chicks can’t do that fucking job either. It’s a stupid job. It’s a stupid job invented back when people used to write with feathers. It’s dumb! It’s just some old-school shit that we need to get rid of. It doesn’t make any sense. Being president is great if there’s like 50 people. If there’s 50 people, you can figure out which one’s the best. Three hundred million people? I have three kids. I don’t know where the fuck they are right now. How is this one dude in charge of 300 million people? It’s nonsense. It’s so old and stupid. They make this guy sleep in this fucking White House. If Trump wins, you know his house is cooler than the White House. He’s like, “I’m not sleeping in that shitty-ass, stupid house.” Trump’s probably got, like, a tube at home that he opens up, and a Chinese girl just pops out of it, and sucks his dick and goes right back in. That’s what I would do if I had that kind of money. We’re down to assholes! Where’s Elon Musk when you need him? Where’s the fucking geniuses? Where’s Mark Cuban? No. We got an old lady trying to get back at her husband for a blowjob he got in the ’90s. We got an old man who hates money. And we got a reality TV star with a plastic set of hair. You can’t have a president with environmental concerns, when every time this motherfucker does his hair, we lose a foot of ozone layer and a polar bear bursts into flames. He’s got, like, a closet full of Aqua Net at home. You can’t pretend you don’t give a fuck when you have that thing going on, dude. Stop that. The White House got broken into while Obama was in office. The first time in over 100 years that someone broke into the White House. Also, the first time a girl was guarding the front door by herself. “What are you trying to say, that women can’t do everything men can do?” Exactly. That’s exactly what I’m saying. That seems sexist, right? People say, “You’re sexist.” No, it’s not sexist. Here’s why it’s not sexist. ‘Cause men can’t even do everything men can do. See? There’s no physical equality, folks. That’s why we have the Olympics. ‘Cause there’s people that can do some shit that you and I can’t do. One of those things is guarding the fucking White House. I know I can’t guard the White House. You know how I know? Because I’ve met Shaquille O’Neal and his dick is where my face is. That’s not equality. That’s not white privilege. Listen, if the White House is experiencing a Shaq Attack, I’m the wrong dude to save the world. I did Fear Factor with Shaq. If we’re holding hands, it’d be like a six-year-old at the park with his dad. We’re barely the same thing. So, do I think women should guard the White House? No. I don’t think I should, either. It’s not sexist to say that women can’t do big physical labor things as good as giant men can. But people will tell you it is. Well, I’m not sexist. As a matter of fact, my favorite people are all female. I have a wife and I have three daughters. They’re my favorite people in the world. But I could beat the fuck out of all of them. Okay? Listen… If they’re guarding the door, I’m getting in. I don’t mean to sound cocky. But I’m just real confident. I could fuck them up if I had the flu. Okay? Yeah, we’re different. We’re different. I could beat up my cat, too. I’m not proud of it. I just tell you what’s up. If you wanna bet money, bet money on me. I’ll fuck that cat up. Most likely. Cats are fucking weird like that, man. I was petting my cat once and he bit me. I was like, “Whoa! Are we gonna do this? What the fuck are you doing here?” I got a little nervous. Got a little nervous. “Women can do everything men can do. This guy’s a piece of shit. We’re leaving. Too much information is going in that I don’t agree with!” “What the guy said was total bullshit. Total bullshit.” How’d that girl get that job? I’ll tell you how that girl got that job. Because someone let her have that job. Which means, either there were a bunch of guys that were trying to fuck her… or her boss was a chick and she hated her. Either one’s possible. Look, if there was a bunch of guys that were trying to fuck her, that makes total sense. If there’s one hot girl and she’s working with five guys in an office, no work’s getting done in that office. That office is now just an audition to see which guy gets to fuck her. Each one of those guys will just slowly start to morph to figure out what this girl likes. Men become like an octopus that tries to fit its way through a keyhole. “There’s gotta be a fucking way. There’s gotta be a fucking way!” You got this girl who’s like, “I could guard the front door.” “Oh, you could definitely guard the door. No doubt. No doubt.” And over time, if this woman doesn’t sleep with one of these men and claim him, over time, these guys will just start morphing. And they’ll just start saying ridiculous, preposterous shit. “Debbie wants to guard the front door. Do you have a problem with that?” “No, I don’t. As a matter of fact, I think women are amazing. Plus, I’m vegan.” And they will just… They will wear patchouli. They will do what the fuck they have to do. Next thing you know, poor fucking Debbie at the front door… “Why am I alone?” [chuckles] The whole story is so bananas. And it’s one of my favorite stories. So I’m gonna give you the whole story of the break-in at the White House with no edits and no comic exaggerations. This is the real story. ‘Cause a lot of people think there’s some grand conspiracy. There’s some cabal of evil geniuses that’s pulling the strings on everyone in America. It’s most likely that people are just dumb as fuck, in all sorts of walks of life. This is the story. This is the real story about the person who broke into the White House. First of all, people are always worried, “The government’s checking out my e-mails, bro. The government’s watching us all the time.” They pulled this guy over two months before he broke into the White House. He had four handguns, two rifles and a machete with him. They didn’t even watch him. He had a map. On the map was Washington, and it had an “X” where the White House is. They’re like, “You’re good to go.” They let him go! Two months later, this motherfucker broke into the White House. And why did he break into the White House? Why do you break into the White House ever? Because you want to die. You don’t… That’s like a suicide run. That’s the only reason why someone runs toward the White House. If you had to ask someone, “What kind of security do you think they have at the White House?” “Oh, dude… they got snipers on every corner. They got lasers in the grass. If you get too far, they open up a door, you drop right into jail.” Nope. Turns out they don’t even have a dog. You just fucking run. The guy who made it into the White House, he had 800 rounds of ammunition in his car. Left that there. Took a knife. That’s a guy who wants to die! He’s just sitting in his fucking car going, “Fuck the government! Fuck my ex-wife! And fuck everybody! I’m gonna do this! Fuck you!” Just sprinting, “Oh, my God, I’m doing it! Oh, my God, I’m doing it!” Thinking, with every step, “This is gonna be the last step of my life. No, this is gonna be the last step of my life. No, this…” And he gets to the front door. It’s unlocked! He opens it. There’s a girl there by herself. Smacks her to the ground and just starts running through the hall. Ah! He’s probably going, “Why am I alive?” He’s probably thinking… He was inside for minutes. For minutes, running around. He got tackled by an off-duty officer. He was probably thinking, “I wanted to die. I don’t want to go to fucking jail. Will somebody please shoot me?” Then he was probably pissed. “Where are my tax dollars going? What kind of security are you fucking people running in this place?” [chuckles]
Imagine when Obama found out a girl was guarding him. He was probably like, “Everybody, everybody, not that much diversity. I mean, what, are you playing fucking fairy tale games here?” Obama’s got a hard job, ’cause he’s the first president that’s ever been around while Google was here. You know, he could Google his own name if he gets crazy in the middle of the night. Right? “So, let me see what the people have to say.” He’d just go, “Obama is a…” [groans] “I’m none of those fucking things.” Freakin’ out. Shit. [sighs] Probably thinking, “Why the fuck did I do this?” I think the guy who broke into the White House and Obama probably have a lot in common. In that… they went for it, but they probably never really thought they were getting in there. You can’t quit once you’re the president. The moment Obama actually got into office, like, “Good morning, Mr. President,” he was probably like, “Oh, no! What the fuck did I do this for? I didn’t think I was actually gonna get in. [sighs] I can’t sleep. I’m freaking out. Everybody wants to kill me. [exhales heavily] Who the fuck is guarding me?” Looks out in the hallway. There’s a girl taking selfies. That’d be the greatest selfie of all time. A girl with her ass out, duck lips, in the background, a dude’s breaking into the White House. [laughs] You know I’m not making this up. You’ve all seen this. This is recognizable. Pigeon-toed is a good move ’cause you can’t get away that good. You just, like… Like there’s something wrong with your back. That’s a recognizable pose. When did that start? ‘Cause if you look at the original pictures back when people first invented pictures, everybody just stood there looking hungry. Like, if you saw a photo from the 1800s, and in the background a girl was going… She’s a fucking time traveler! Nobody knew that move back then. Somebody had to see their face. “Oh, people like that. They like what I’m doing.” Combo. A two-hole combo attractor. It’s all over online! It gets you a lot of likes. I saw a gal on Instagram, she has eight million followers. All she does is take pictures of her ass. That’s it. She’s got a winning formula. She sticks with it. No witty memes. There’s no inspirational quotes. Mnh-mnh. Mnh-mnh. Just a lot of this. Different ways. And she’s just a regular girl, man. I’m watching this, I’m like, “This is a different kind of person.” She has eight million people that have no idea what her voice sounds like. She doesn’t have a job that they like. She doesn’t have an occupation that they follow. They’re just staring at her ass. This is a new kind of human. There’s never been a person, psychologically, that’s had to navigate those kind of waters. If you really stop and think about it, science should really step in and start looking at this. Don’t go to South America to study some new frog that nobody gives a fuck about. There’s a girl in Florida with eight million people staring at her ass. How does this girl keep a relationship? What is her day like? How many dick pics does she get sent? How many dick pics does that girl receive on a daily basis? Is it like the national debt counter was just fucking spinning out of control constantly? I bet if she turns on the notifications, her phone just starts screaming and runs away from her. I bet if she deletes all the dick pics from her phone, it would be physically lighter. This is a new kind of person. We really have to understand, there’s never been a person like this before. And she’s just a person. Like, that kind of influence, that kind of attractant, that’s a very strong drug to have in the hands of just a girl. And as a guy who has daughters, I just think of that, like, that’s kind of fucking… That’s weird. Because this girl has eight million people staring at her ass. Eight million creeps and weirdos and perverts objectifying her. I mean, I follow her, but I’m not like those other assholes. I’m different. I care. I care about who she is. I’m a nice person. I’m a hero or something. [laughs] “I’m different. Those other guys are assholes. Men are noble. Men are noble and true.” Mmm. If we get to come. If men don’t get to come, we get real Sméagol-like real quick. Just a few months of no dates, [imitating Gollum] “Mesus is just so disappointed with all the mens mesus meets. Mesus is so embarrassed at how other mens talks to you. Mmm. Oh.” Everyone wants to set themselves up as being the noble one. Everybody wants to be Matthew McConaughey, to save the world on a rocket ship. There’s people that are signing up to go to Mars. Do you know about this? There’s a mission to Mars, a manned mission to Mars, where 200,000 people have signed up to be amongst the four people to die on Mars. They’re gonna take a one-way trip to Mars. That’s some sad shit for a bunch of reasons. First of all, it’s some sad shit, ’cause that’s 200,000 people that don’t have any real friends. Right? If it’s someone you love, your real friend… If one of my friends is gonna move to Florida, I’ll be like, “Bitch, where the fuck are you going? You’re gonna go to Florida? We can’t hang out if you go to Florida. Why the fuck are you moving to Florida, man?” But you might be able to deal with it. “We can just visit each other every now and then.” But if your friend was gonna move to Mars, you’d be like, “Oh, really? Get in the fucking car! Just get in the car, dude.” Take him out to Death Valley, “Look around! Sucks, right? Mars sucks worse. Get back in the car, stupid.” Jesus Christ! There’s places in America you can’t live, man. You don’t wanna live in Detroit, why the fuck are you talking about moving to Mars? People really consider moving to Mars. It’s one of the dumbest ideas ever. But if you say that, people will eco-bro you. Have you ever been eco-broed? These people will find an opportunity to virtue signal over you, as Michael Shermer likes to point out. Like, puff their chest out and say that they’re probably better than you. “Hey, dude. Seriously? You think there’s something wrong with going to Mars? Well, I don’t know if you’ve paid attention, man. We maybe should colonize Mars ’cause California’s almost out of water.” Then he’ll nod, like, “Yeah, bitch.” We’re right next to the ocean. What the fuck are you talking about? Look at all that water. You fly over it, it takes a day. The world’s blue. It’s more water than it is not water. We have a salt problem. We don’t have a water problem. Suck the salt out of the water, we got a goddamn party. Instead of pissing and moaning… “Too complicated, bro. We gotta go to Neptune.” Oh, my God! You’re fucking crazy. We’re a crazy race filled with crazy people. We’re like a dude with a dirty house. Like, “Man, I gotta build a new house.” No, you gotta stop shitting in your kitchen. Stop piling up newspapers you’re never gonna read in front of your bathroom, you fuck! We’re crazy! One-way trip to Mars. A one-way trip in coach with three other people so fucking stupid, they’re willing to die on Mars with you. Great. What great conversation you’re gonna have. It’s nonsense, folks. My friend was like, “They’re not gonna die on Mars, man. If people are smart enough to figure out how to get to Mars, they’re smart enough to figure out how to get back.” Here’s why that doesn’t make any sense. People smart enough to get to Mars aren’t going. See, that’s the dirty secret about rocket travel, ladies and gentlemen. Nobody smart enough to make a rocket ever gets in one of those fucking things. No. No, they look at each other right before the launch and they go… They talk German and they get behind giant fucking concrete bunkers. They take some square-jawed, corn-fed dude from the middle of the country, tuck a Bible under that dude’s arm and strap him into that giant metal dick, and shoot it off into the heavens. That’s what we do. And that is what that is. That is a metal dick. It’s a robot dick, and we’re trying to fuck the sky. We are literally trying to come people out of the tip of a metal dick onto other planets. Our ultimate goal is that we get those planets pregnant, and they’re too filled up with people, and then they gotta make a new metal dick. “Bro, we gotta go to Jupiter.” Then they make another one. They shoot that fucking thing, and they fill Jupiter up. We just keep filling the cosmos up with people. And we never evolve. And we never change. We stay perfect, like we are right now. Who’s in? You’re gonna all come with me. We’re gonna leave here right now and go to the Church of Scientology right down the street, and it’s all gonna make sense when you find out that you are an eternal being that created reality so that you can enjoy it. I watched that HBO documentary a couple too many times. I went Clear, I think. I think I’m Clear. I’m back! I’m back now. If you haven’t seen… [chuckles] I had to watch Going Clear, a Scientology documentary, ’cause I have a neighbor who’s a Scientologist, and I don’t even think he’s gay. I don’t know what the fuck’s going on. [exhales heavily] But he sleeps really close to me, you know. Like, my bed’s here, this fucking dude’s bed’s, like, over there. His house is… I mean, if you take away the walls, he’s fucking right there. It’s like, “What does this crazy fuck believe?” And Scientology is a wonderful religion. Not just because it was written by a science fiction author who wrote more fake shit than anyone that’s ever walked the face of the Earth. And not by a small amount. This dude never made a second draft in his fucking life. Everything was one draft of nonsense. And he wrote more of it than anybody. Not in his neighborhood, not in his state, not in a year, not in a decade. More than anyone that’s ever lived, ever. And Scientology is still like, “I don’t see any red flags. I think we’re good. I think this is legit as fuck.” If Scientology is a good religion, it’s because other religions get to make fun of ’em. It’s like it’s the one religion that even the Mormons are like, “Bitch, you believe what? Hold on. I mean, at least we don’t have video of Joseph Smith. There’s some fucking shitty black and white footage of L. Ron Hubbard with a captain’s outfit on. You wanna explain that? [chuckles] Why does he have all those awards on? Why is Tom Cruise wearing a gold medal the size of a dinner plate? What the fuck is going on with you people?” I watched it with my mom, and it was like… First of all, Scientology, they don’t pay taxes. That’s disturbing. They’re tax-free, which means they’re a recognized religion by the government of the United States. Which means the government of the United States had to go over what they believe and went, “Everything seems in order. None of this shit seems like a cult.” Well, what the fuck is a cult, and what’s a religion? So I had to look it up. Turns out… I don’t know who wrote this, but it’s a perfect definition. A cult is bullshit. It’s created by one person. That person knows it’s bullshit. In a religion, that dude’s dead. So it’s a religion ’cause L. Ron Hubbard’s dead. So I guess they got it on a loophole. I watched it with my mom, and my mom was like, “I can’t believe anybody would fall for that.” “You made me go to Catholic school. The fuck are you talking about? There was a child molester dressed like a sorcerer sitting on a golden throne, and you made me call him Father. Slow your roll, lady.” Imagine if I talked to my mom like that. Oh, my God. Jokes, folks. Just jokes. I don’t have a problem with people being religious because I just think life itself is too open-ended. It’s too confusing. And I think we’re evolving. And part of our struggle in evolving is unanswered questions. We wanna seek these answers. But in the meanwhile, they just give you so much anxiety, and it fucks with you so much. There’s nothing wrong with joining a cult. I think you gotta just join a nice, friendly one. Like, the Mormons are a good cult. Here’s why. They don’t get mad at anybody. Like, they never kill anybody. Like, here’s a perfect example. Matt Stone and Trey Parker, the guys who created South Park, they made a hilarious musical called The Book of Mormon. It’s fantastic. If you haven’t seen it, it’s so fucking hilarious. But it’s also brutal! Brutal about the Mormons. You know what the Mormons did? They went to see it, and they took out a full-page ad in the playbill. It said, “If you enjoyed this musical and you wanna find out more about being a Mormon, please visit our website.” They just took it right on the chin like champs. They didn’t get mad. They didn’t get defensive. They didn’t kill anybody. That’s a good cult. They just said, “What do you wanna do?” “We got nine wives. Shut the fuck up!” “Everybody just… Everybody, just chill. Just chill.” That’s a good religion. That’s a good cult. Some cults aren’t that good. They get fucking testy. You know the one. We don’t have to say who. You know what I’m talking about. There’s that one that will kill you if you draw their guy. “Come on, man. I can’t even draw your dude? What if I draw a dude drawing your dude?” “No loopholes!” “Fuckin’ relax, bro.” And this isn’t just theoretical. People have died ’cause they made cartoons. Before the most recent Paris attacks, there was a magazine called Charlie Hebdo, and they were attacked, where 11 cartoonists were killed. Eleven more were wounded, and they killed a cop, too. Fucking crazy! Over cartoons! And when you… When there’s radical, crazy people in the world, what’s interesting is the reaction to radical, crazy people and how everything just sort of kind of balances itself out when things get weird.
Because when these people got killed over a cartoon, the whole world was in shock. The whole world was outraged. But one of the scariest things about it was nobody wanted to print those pictures. You couldn’t see ’em in the LA Times. You couldn’t find them in Time magazine. You had to go online and find them. It was a dark moment for free speech, because everybody’s like, “Oh. I don’t wanna get killed. I don’t wanna show the pictures.” It was weird, until… the balance. Because after they got killed and nobody wanted to print the pictures, word got back to Texas… where they promptly held a “Draw Muhammad” contest in Garland, Texas. I’m not making a word of this up. You can Google it, and I’ll wait. They had a “Draw Muhammad” contest in Garland, Texas. Two dudes showed up, started shooting at the building. They were killed almost instantly. Why? Because they were at a “Draw Muhammad” contest in Texas. How obvious does a trap have to be before you start getting suspicious? What, are you livin’ in a Wile E. Coyote cartoon, motherfucker? You ever go to Texas? That’s not Santa Monica, bitch. That’s a totally different kind of white people. Those are some Wild West people that have computers and modern guns. They’re not supposed to be there. People didn’t evolve in Texas. It’s not like they were monkeys, then they became people and they stayed in that spot. No. No, they landed on boats on the East Coast. The stubborn ones stayed. The smart ones made it to California. But along the way, we lost a bunch of people. [audience laughs] And some of them just stuck around. “Y’all go ahead. We’re gonna hang back here. I’m gonna draw the biggest dick the world’s ever seen in the sand. My wife’s got the biggest titties. I’mma try to fuck a snake. I think it can be done.” They just stayed. They just gathered cattle, stockpiled ammo. And they all talk alike. And that’s why you gotta be nervous. You gotta be nervous in places with accents, okay? It’s one of the reasons why I can prove that California is the best spot to live. ‘Cause all the spots that suck, they all have to sound like each other. ‘Cause I grew up in a place like that. I grew up in Boston. It’s not that the people in Boston suck, but the weather sucks. It’s fucking horrible. And in the winter everybody gets in their car in the morning, and just goes, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” And everybody’s worried about… It’s a real possibility you might starve to death one day. You might freeze trying to walk home. [imitates Boston accent] So they all talk in the same way. “Oh, my God. How many more months till summer? Ahhh! When is this fucking winter gonna be over? We need more firewood.” [whines] They have to sound like the people around them. So if other people invade, like, “We stick together. We’re all in this together.” That’s how they are in Texas, too. They’re like, “Y’all ain’t from around here, are ya?” They have a fucking certain way of talking. Which is proof positive why California is the best spot. Try making fun of a California accent. What are you gonna do? Speak clear and concise? What are you gonna do? You gonna mock us? You’re gonna say some shit that everybody understands? They’re not supposed to be in Texas, folks. It’s not even a state. It’s a republic. They were like, “Man, we ain’t so sure about this whole United States thing. We’re gonna hang back. Hang back, see how this plays out.” They don’t have any rules. They have like three pages of rule books. Here’s how I know this. I’m gonna tell you a fact, a fact about Texas that will change the way you think about Texas. There are more tigers in captivity in Texas, in private collections, than there are in all of the wild of the world. I’m gonna repeat it because I know you’re like, “Oh, the Fear Factor guy is just making shit up to make his jokes work.” No. There’s more tigers in dudes’ yards in Texas than the rest of the fucking planet! How is that possible? Because they can. Because they went through the rule book… [mumbles] “It don’t say shit about tigers. Order it up, dude. Order it up, dude!” One guy got a tiger, and his neighbor’s like, “Shit, I didn’t know we could get tigers.” And he got two tigers. And the first guy was like, “I ain’t about to let this faggot out-tiger me.” And he opened up Tiger World with his oil money. We’re gonna need those people, folks, if the Russians invade. We can’t make fucking warrior babies with those chicks in Marin County with fake asses and rubber lips, okay? We’re gonna need some real warrior genes. We’re gonna need some women who wear non-ironic Daisy Dukes. They got cowboy boots with no socks and stinky feet. And they yell out, “Chris Kyle, rest in peace,” when you make ’em come. We need those women! If the Russians come, we gotta be ready. Think about the children. Think about the children while I get a sip. This is super important, ladies and gentlemen. A lot of people are sleeping on… [laughs] Imagine if I had real points. Oh, Jesus Christ. [audience cheering] I love you fuckers, too, man. So excited to be here. [sighs] I have kids and I lie to them. I get high around ’em, too. People say you shouldn’t do that, but they don’t see it. They say you shouldn’t be intoxicated around your children. Well, I’m not. I’m high. I call it “elevated.” It’s a different thing. The people who have a problem with that, they don’t understand what getting high is. Like, they think you’re gonna be to your kid, like, “Who are you?” What do you think? What’s the worst thing that can happen if I’m a little high around my kid? They’re gonna get extra hugs, and daddy’s going to be paranoid about objects. “Look out. Don’t go there.” That’s it. Plus, I have cool conversations. I have a six-year-old daughter, man. There’s not a lot of 48-year-old man and 6-year-old girl have in common, other than the fact she’s my daughter. And so, our conversations are normally pretty boring. But when I’m high, I’m like, “You know, you call that thing your baby, your doll. You call it your baby, but you know it’s not a baby, right?” “Yeah, I know it’s not a baby.” “Do you call it a baby because you’re the youngest and you like having someone who is responsible for you?” “Maybe.” “Okay. That’s cool. That’s cool. Give me a hug. I love you.” [kisses] It’s weird, man. It’s weird raising little people. There’s some things that I didn’t expect. One of the things I didn’t expect is you have to lie to them. Like, you don’t have to lie to them about a lot of things, but you have to lie to them about Santa Claus. It’s just one of those things, man, ’cause it’s like a community. You have to think about what your kid’s gonna tell other kids. Because when it comes to Santa Claus, you don’t want your kid to be one of two things. You don’t want your kid to be the first kid that tells everyone that Santa Claus is bullshit, ’cause that kid’s an asshole. But you don’t want your kid to be the last kid that figures out that Santa Claus is bullshit, ’cause that kid’s a moron. So you got… You got a little bit of… You’re like, “Oh, no. When do we do this? When do we do this?” And no one knows when to do it. You just let the kids figure it out. Then they’re like, “Dad, what the fuck?” You’re like, “Aw… Oh, I missed the boat. I missed the boat.” Nobody knows when to do it. Nobody can be honest about it. They have little meetings and shit. And I’m like, “When do we tell ’em?” This lady goes, “When they’re 11.” They’re gonna be fucking by then. I told her it was funny. She didn’t believe me. I’m like, “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m off by a year.” That’s not as funny, but it’s… I didn’t mean it. But it’s this thing. They want to keep the kids in the dark. And they wanna pretend they’re the only one that’s teaching the kid. This is a weird thing that people do. They’re like, “I teach my kids, man. I teach my kids.” “Eh… when you see ’em.” But unless you’re some freak who homeschools your children in the forest, your kid’s gonna go to school. They’re gonna go to school, and they’re gonna be in a class with 50 other kids. The teacher only makes 20 bucks a year, and she’s thinking about dick. That’s all she’s thinking about. She’s thinking about getting stuffed. She’s a young, fertile woman who loves kids. And she’s writing on that chalkboard. And the kids all huddle up and share information. Like, “Yeah, what did your dad tell you? Your dad tell you that, yeah? My dad says Santa Claus is fucking bullshit, okay? You ever go near a chimney? It’s that big. What the fuck? Teacher’s coming. Play with blocks. Act stupid. Uh, how does this work?” They play dumb. They play dumb! They’re like little prisoners, trying to figure their way out. They make little papier-mâché heads and pretend they’re napping. They’re little humans. They wanna run shit. “Who is these people telling us what to do? Are they being straight with us, man? What the fuck is going on?” I knew the day my daughter knew that Santa Claus is bullshit. She came home, stared me down. She was, like, mad-dogging me. She took her book bag, and just goes… [scoffs] Walked right up to the chimney, looking at me. “How the fuck?” “Dad, have you ever met Santa Claus?” “No, honey, I’ve never met him.” “But you let him in the house?” And there’s this moment… It was a moment where a seven-year-old has you at checkmate. You’re like, “Oh, shit.” I don’t know whether to high-five her or to keep lying. You wanna go, “Yeah, you got me. You got me. You got me. That’s bullshit. No, the big bang is real, but this is bullshit.” The big bang sounds even less real. The problem is, you have to be consistent. If you’re teaching your kids nonsense, you gotta teach ’em only nonsense. You can’t mix nonsense in with, like, real stuff. Like, my daughter will go like, “How do birds fly?” I go, “Birds have bones that are hollow, so they’re really light. Then they have feathers, which cover a large surface area. And they use the hollow bones and the feathers to push down on the air. See, the air looks like it’s nothing, right? But it’s actually a bunch of gases. That’s why the trees move when the wind blows. The birds can manipulate that and go through 3-D space.” “Whoa!” “Yeah, nature is crazy.” “Yeah. How does the fat man get through the little hole?” “Magic! Christmas magic! Now go to bed. I’m trying to fuck your mom! Go to bed!” [audience laughing] Jokes, folks. Just jokes. Can’t talk like that. That’s how you make strippers. You gotta be nice. They’re little, tiny people. They’re adorable. They don’t know anything yet. You gotta teach ’em everything. You can’t talk mean. [inhales sharply] Kids are a lot like really fucking stupid people… in that if you get ten really stupid people in a room, the most confident one just starts running shit. They don’t have to have any more information, they just have to be more confident. If you get a bunch of dummies together, they’re like, “I don’t know what’s going on.” “I don’t know what’s going on.” “I fucking do. I fucking do.” The guy doesn’t have to have any extra data, he just has to be the only one that’s confident. And that’s what it’s like in school. My daughter’s class has this fucking kid named Debbie. And every day it’s, “Debbie says…” Oh, fucking Debbie says. Debbie says what? You don’t think about that before you have kids. Not only are you gonna have kids, but your kids are gonna make friends, and then you have to make friends with the fucking parents of your kids. And some of ’em are crazy. My daughter’s like, “Debbie says Adam and Eve are the only two people in the world, and all people came from them. Is that true?” [sighs] And this is weird. Like, you don’t know what to do, right? You want to be diplomatic. You don’t want to cause problems at school. But you gotta be honest. And one of the most difficult things to say to a kid is, “I don’t know.” I’m like, “Sweetie, I don’t know. I don’t know if Adam and Eve is where people came from. But nobody knows, because no one from today is alive back then. So it’s not something you can measure. So it’s not something you can see. So we don’t know. But here’s what we do know. You know how some people have big ears and some people have little ears?” “Yeah.” “Well, some people have brains that are made out of dog shit. And they get horny, too. And what happens is, they have to find someone even dumber than them to have sex with. It’s like the opposite of evolution. And then they have a kid, and their kid is fucked. Their kid is fucked! And everybody wants to pretend it’s a level playing field. There’s no level, anywhere you look. Is an eagle and a salmon level? Does the salmon ever get to eat the eagle? No. The universe does not want even! It wants conflict and resolution and constant improvement. Okay? I’m gonna shut this light out, and I’m gonna go fuck your mom right in the mouth. All right?” I don’t say these things. I don’t say any of these things! I was like, “I don’t know. Maybe Debbie’s right. Doesn’t make sense to me. How would that work?” “How would that work?” “It wouldn’t work, would it?” Adam and Eve are the only two people. They have kids. And then, where do all the other people come from? I guess the kids just start fucking each other. Is that what happens? Mom fucks the kids, or the… Yeah, exactly. Debbie’s parents. They were at my house, man, for a cookout, and the dude told me the Earth’s 10,000 years old. They’re Young Earth Christians. They’re sweet people, by the way. Before I shit on them… I’m gonna shit on them, but before I shit on them, they’re sweet. They’re really nice people. I hug ’em every time I see ’em. They’re really kind, nice people. But they just found a part of their brain, they’re like, “I have no use for this.” [grunts] Chucked that whole logic, discerning-reason part. “This fucking thing’s confusing.” They’re Young Earth Christians, which means they follow the strictest interpretation of the Bible possible. I’m like, “How many people believe the Earth is less than 10,000 years old?” Uh! I looked it up. There’s a recent Gallup poll that said that 46% of America believes the Earth is less than 10,000 years old. [audience booing] Here’s why you shouldn’t be scared. They can only measure people dumb enough to answer polls. And when you factor that in, you’re talking about a really small number. ‘Cause you know what the average response is if you call people up and say, “How old’s the Earth?” Number one answer is, “Older than your mother’s pussy.” And then they hang up. Number two answer is, “Fuck you!” After that, you start throwing numbers around. And only 46% of those dummies were stupid enough to think the Earth is 10,000 years old. That’s Debbie’s fucking parents. So out of the people that answer polls… Is it even 1%? It might be 1%. Only 46% are that fucking stupid. And that’s the 1% we should really be worried about. We’re worried about the wrong 1%. Not that we shouldn’t be worried about the really rich, greedy people. We definitely should. We should definitely worry about bankers and people who… They’re just stockpiling resources. They could help the world in some really impossible ways for anybody else. But they don’t. They’d rather just pile up their gold. [grunts] Yeah, that 1% is awful. But there’s another 1% that freaks me the fuck out that no one’s talking about. That’s the 1% who leave comments on YouTube videos. Who the fuck are those freaks? Could you imagine people talking to each other like that in real life and not beating the shit out of each other? I mean, if Jesus Christ himself came back from the dead and had a YouTube page, the first comment would be, “You ain’t shit without your dad, pussy.” These are monsters. This is not a normal person’s response. Normal people don’t leave comments. What a normal person does, they watch a video. They like it or they don’t like it. That’s it. It ends right there. But what you’re dealing with is the process of racism, and child abuse, and neglect and shitty genes. And the Insane Clown Posse is playing. They know all the words, and they’re wafting up their farts, and their Cheez Doodle fingers. And like, “An open letter to Jennifer Lopez… Let me pause and just jerk off in my shirt real quick, here. [mimics fart] Ugh… Dear, Jennifer, don’t you think it’s about time you dress a little more classy? What are your children gonna see when they see…” Just fucking think of the meanest, most biting shit that’s gonna cut it. As if Jennifer Lopez has time in between eating diamonds and fucking all her background dancers in a castle that she built with her ass. But you know, “Let me check the YouTube comments to see if my self-esteem’s on point. Oh!” And you know who’s dumber than them? Me. ‘Cause I read their shit and I get mad. I know they’re stupid. I still get upset. Fuck! This is the world, folks. This is the world we’re living in. Are we happy? I’m not sure. – Is this what we wanted? I don’t know. – [woman] No! – No. – [woman] No! – Are you sure? – [woman] No! Why are you doing this? What is this? What are you doing? Are you fighting for freedom? – What’s happening? – [woman 2] No! Are you White Panthers? What is this? [man] Life sucks! – What are you saying? – [man] Life can kind of suck sometimes. Life can kind of suck? Maybe it’s how you’re livin’ it, bitch. “Life can kind of suck.” It’s the greatest time ever to be alive. “Yeah, I’d live in the old days when you could die from crabs.” It doesn’t get any better than today, man. So stupid. “Make America great again.” It’s as good as it’s ever been. What the fuck are you saying? We have 4G everywhere. When has it been better? We have Netflix. When has it been better? Come on, man. Stop. It’s never been better. This is as good as it’s ever been. It’s just weird. It’s just weird. You gotta get your shit together, bitch. Don’t blame the world. God damn it. Damn it, man. And listen, if you’ve seen any of this show, and you said, “I think some of the stuff you’re saying is really funny, but I sense a lot of, like, macho posturing from you. I sense a lot of, like, bullshit, tough-guy stuff.” You’re totally correct. And what it is is I live with all women, okay? And I’m becoming more of a bitch every day of my life. And I just wanna say I’m not unhappy. I’ve never been more happy in my life. This is the happiest I’ve ever been. But when you’re with all girls, like, you have all girls all the time, you have to make little compromises. You don’t think about it while it’s happening. It’s like the rock doesn’t think about the water carving a path through it, but eventually, that fucking path is gonna get deep. And when you’re with all people that are different than you, they just go, “Hmm…” They just start looking at you like little raptors testing the fence. [squawks] They’ll just start poking at you. It’s what people do. It’s natural. It’s just what people do. If you live with people that all are on AT&T and you’re on Verizon, they’re like, “Dude, look at my bars. Make the switch. Come on over. What are you, a fucking Democrat, dude? Libertarian is where it’s at. Wake up! Join us!” When you’re with all girls, they just start… They constantly fuck with my manhood. It’s like, I’ll come home and some new thing is painted pink. I’m like, “Why is this pink?” “It looks better pink, Daddy.” “It looks better pink, Daddy.” And my wife’s like, “I think they’re right.” I’m like, “Oh… I see what the fuck is going on here. It’s mutiny!” They just chip, chip, chip away. It’s like if my manhood was a mountain of marbles. Every day they steal two. They just walk up to my stack… You can’t say shit. You can’t say shit, ’cause it’s only two marbles, and you’re like, “I still got all these marbles. Everything is gonna be okay. I’ll deal with this eventually.” But you’re not gonna deal with it. Every day, two more marbles. You never get those marbles back. You see it comin’. You don’t do anything about it. You’re like, “I gotta go to sleep. All right, everybody stop crying. I gotta go to sleep.” And men don’t want to admit that. “Not me, bro. Not me, bro. I’d rather just live in the woods by myself.” What are you, a fucking Coldplay song? Huh? What are you, a character in a book, you piece of shit? No one’s honest. No one’s honest about how much we need other people. That’s why the characters that we adore so much in the movies are the people that don’t need people. The people who just walk away from it all, like, “Wow, what a rebel!” But in real life, we need people so bad that the worst shit you can do to a prisoner is put them in solitary confinement. So think about that. You’re in a cement box filled with rapists and murderers. And the worst shit they can do is leave you alone. We’re fucking weird. We are weird, ’cause what we are really is we’re some weird superorganism that, like, needs each other in some sort of strange way. But we’re all in denial. “I’m kind of a loner.” Oh, shut the fuck up. There’s no such thing. It’s not real. Every person in this room, me included, all of us, we are all a calculation. We’re all an ongoing, on-running calculation of all the interactions you’ve ever had with all the people that you’ve ever met. And you do a bunch of things that people like, and start doing more of that. You’re like, “I’ll do more of that.” You find things that people don’t like, you’re like, “I’ll keep that shit to myself, hmm. I don’t like that feeling. Hmm.” That’s what we do. That’s what we do. It’s weird. We don’t want to admit it. But that’s who we all are. And I’m just telling you this because I’ve never been more of a bitch. Right now, I have slowly but surely bent until I’m in this position. This is how I’m riding out my days, just like this. “Okay, okay, okay, okay.” But I’m also telling you right now that I’m not going out like Bruce Jenner. Oh! That’s right, politically correct San Francisco. Here’s my take on this Bruce Jenner thing. And, you know, everybody has their own… Not really. This is what everybody’s take is. This is the take that you’re supposed to have. “He’s always been a woman trapped in a man’s body.” Maybe. Definitely maybe. Definitely people are like that. Definitely, there are people who were born in the wrong gender. And am I saying they should stay their gender? No. Who gives a fuck? You should do whatever you wanna do. You should be happy. You should be free. I don’t care what you do. But… it’s also possible that, maybe, if you live with crazy bitches long enough, you become one. That’s all I’m saying. I don’t see this discussed. It is entirely possible. If you put a praying mantis on a leaf, it becomes the color of the leaf. Why? Because it wants to live. It wants to survive. It wants to be accepted by its environment. You show me a man who’s lived with the Kardashians for ten years who didn’t come out a chick, and then we’ll have some data, okay? ‘Cause right now, we lost a fucking American Olympian, and I want you to have some respect! We’re down Bruce Jenner. And I’ve got a close eye on Kanye West, and I don’t exactly like what I’m seeing. [audience applauding and cheering] Look at Kanye West. He’s a very talented, young, heterosexual man who starts a clothing line… he’s clearly jealous about Taylor Swift, and he tweets like a coked-up stripper in the middle of the night. You don’t see what I’m seeing? We are watching the plot of a fucking Stephen King book play out! An American athletic hero moves in with a woman who’s made hundreds of millions of dollars through no way anyone can explain to anyone. He breaks up with her. She turns him into a chick. The whole world tells him he’s beautiful. You tell me you don’t see what I’m seeing? You have to say… You have to say she’s beautiful. “She’s beautiful.” She’s not beautiful, and neither am I. Look, I look like a thumb with two thumbs. Okay? You put me in a dress, I’d be even more disgusting. “Beauty’s unusual.” There’s a lot of cool shit that isn’t beautiful. Sixty-year-old dudes in skirts are on that list. Jesus fucking Christ! What kind of games are we playing here? Why are you lying to children? That’s beautiful. What are my kids gonna think when they see a mountain or a rose? “Is that beautiful too, Daddy? Explain.” Ahhh! Bang! I can’t! The world’s gone fucking bananas! “What you’re saying is horribly transphobic and incredibly regressive. You should be embarrassed at what you’re doing. You’re doing this just to get laughs at someone else’s expense.” Maybe! Or maybe Bruce Jenner lived with demons. Maybe they waited by the bed… until they knew he was in heavy REM sleep… so they could assume their true form. [squawking] Climb up and kick off their designer shoes to reveal black raven’s claws. Clutched the edge of the bed and just… whispered in his ear. [snarls] [imitating demon] “Bruce… [breathing heavily] we would like you better if you were one of us.” “[groaning] I can’t. I can’t be one of you. I was… I was born a man.” “Nonsense! [snarling] [hissing] Nonsense. Bruce… you no longer can be held prisoner by the gender of your birth. You’re free. Bruce… [snarling] your lips are too thin… for the cover of Vanity Fair.” “Huh? What? Wait. Wait. Did you say the cover? Okay. Are you fucking with me? Because… you know the cover’s always been my dream.” “It can be real! [snarls] It can be real. All dreams… can be real through surgery. Sleep.” [audience cheering and applauding] Thank you very much, San Francisco! I had a great fucking time with you savages! Let’s take a selfie. Shit. We got it. Putting together one of these fucking specials is stressful as shit. I appreciate the fuck out of all you people being here tonight. And I love you guys. Thank you very much! [cheering and applauding continues] [rock music playing]"
John Mulaney,"All right, Petunia. Wish me luck out there. You will die on August 7th, 2037. That’s pretty good. All right. Hello. Hello, Chicago. Nice to see you again. Thank you. That was very nice. Thank you. Look, now, you’re a wonderful crowd, but I need you to keep your energy up the entire show, okay? Because… No, no, no. Thank you. Some crowds… some crowds, they have big energy in the beginning and then they run out of places to go. So… I don’t judge those crowds, by the way, okay? We’ve all gone too big too fast and then run out of room. We’ve all made a “Happy Birthday” sign… Wait. You get that poster board up, and you’re like, “I don’t need to trace it. I know how big letters should be. To begin with, a big-ass ‘H’. Followed by a big-ass ‘A’ and… Oh, no! Oh, God! Okay, all right. Real skinny ‘P’ with a high hump, and then we’ll put the second ‘P’ below the hump of that first ‘P’, sort of like a motorcycle sidecar situation. And now I have no room for the ‘Y’, so I’ll do a kind of curled-up noodle ‘Y’. Block letters and cursive look good together.” And then you go to write “Birthday” and you totally forget the lesson you just learned with “Happy.” You’re like, “Yeah, but the past is the past. Big-ass ‘B’. Surely more letters will fit in the same space.” You’re very friendly here in Chicago. I mean, we’re all violent here, but you’re very friendly. No, really. And I don’t like confrontation, ’cause I’ve never been in a fight before. Though, maybe you could tell that from the first moment I walked out on stage. I don’t give off that vibe. Some people give off a vibe of… Right away, they’re like, “Do not fuck with me.” My vibe is more like, “Hey, you could pour soup in my lap and I’ll probably apologize to you.” When I walk, for real, my feet go out like this. I’m so open and vulnerable. I look like a doll that you point out molestation on. “Show us on this white comedian where the man touched you.” It’s been a while since I’ve been home to Chicago. I got married since then. Thank you. I married my wife. I love saying “my wife.” It sounds so adult. “That’s my wife.” It’s great, you sound like a person. I said it even before we were married. We were just dating, and we were once getting on an airplane, and Anna’s ticket didn’t say anything and my ticket said “priority access.” It doesn’t matter why. But we were getting on and I said, “Uh, can my wife board with me?” And they were like, “Yes, of course. Right this way.” And I was like, “Oh, that is so much better than all those times I was like, ‘Can my girlfriend come?'” And, yeah, I shouldn’t have said it that way, but still. “My wife” just has some kick-ass to it, you know? “Get away from my wife! No one talk to my wife!” Marriage is gonna be very magical. “I didn’t kill my wife!” That’s like, “Ooh, who’s that fella? I bet he did kill his wife.” Being married is so nice. I never knew relationships were supposed to make you feel better about yourself. That’s not really a joke, that’s just a little sweet thing I like to say. ‘Cause I’d been in relationships where I got cheated on, like, long ones. I don’t know if you’ve ever been in a long relationship where you got cheated on, but it changes your whole worldview. ‘Cause when I was a kid, I used to watch America’s Most Wanted. You know how kids do. And I would always think to myself, “How could another person kill someone? How could a human being kill another human being?” And then I got cheated on, and I was like, “Oh, okay.” “I’m not gonna do it, but I totally get it.” And I don’t mean in that way of, like, “No one else can have you.” I don’t care about that. It’s just creepy to have an ex out there after things have ended badly. They have a lot of information. Anyone who’s seen my dick and met my parents needs to die. I can’t have them roaming around. I talked to a lot of people before I got engaged, you know. And I heard this expression about whether or not you should get married. This is an old expression. People say this. They say, “Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?” You ever heard that before? It’s a bananas insulting expression… to an entire gender. But also, it makes no sense. “Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?” You’re not allowed to milk a cow that you don’t own. That’s not even a situation. Was that a problem at one point? Like, in the dairy community? Was that happening a hundred years ago in some village? Some Dutch prick was sneaking in at night being like, “Ah-ha-ha, I take your milk.” And the farmer was like, “Well, then, this is your cow now.” And he was like, “No, no proof of purchase.” And he ran off into the night. That sounded Dutch, right? You know what that… you know what that expression means? It means, “Why would you marry a woman if she’s already having sex with you?” Which has nothing to do with what relationships are even like anymore. Now, it’s like, “Why buy the cow?” Uh, maybe because, every day, the cow asks you when you’re gonna buy it. And… … you live in a really small apartment with the cow, so you can’t avoid that question at all. And also, the cow is way better at arguing than you are. And the cow grew up in a family that knows how to argue. “Why buy the cow?” Uh, maybe because every time another cow gets bought, you have to go to the sale and you have to sit next to your cow at the sale, and your cow looks over at you the entire time like… And does not enjoy the sale at all… even though she’s the one that wanted to go to the sale. And she’s especially mad because that farmer and cow met, like, eight months after you guys met. “Why buy the cow?” Well, let’s be real here. You’re very lucky to have the cow that you do have. “Roping in cows and getting milk out of them was never anything you were known for, John.” By the most liberal of estimates, there have been about eight cows total, several unmilked, and… a lot of people think that you like bulls, and if you just bought… They assume it. When you search your name, the third thing to come up is like, “John Mulaney bull?” And if you just bought the cow, nobody would say that anymore. They’ll still say it. ‘Cause there are those guys who, they buy a cow, and then on the side, total matador, but… But, for real, Chicago, why buy the cow? Let’s be real. Why buy the cow? Because you love her. You really do. And, yeah, yeah… Sure, she’s a bossy little Jew, but… … she takes care of you. And you don’t wanna be some old man stumbling around, like, “Hey, you seen any loose milk?” My wife is Jewish. She’s a New York Jew. I did it! Now, I was raised Catholic. I don’t know if you can tell that from the everything about me. My wife is Jewish, I grew up Catholic, so we got married by a friend. Being married by a friend is a beautiful ceremony that alienates both families’ religions, while confusing the elderly people at the wedding. “What’s the name of the bishop?” “That’s actually stand-up comedian Dan Levy. He was the host of MTV’s Your Face or Mine?” I saw a lot of Catholic weddings, though, because I was an altar boy… And a hush falls over the room. Isn’t it weird how that became a scandalous thing? That was just some boring shit I had to do on weekends. But now, it’s like saying, “I was a French maid for a period of time. I was treated well in my day. I worked for a variety of sirs.” No, being an altar boy was just a boring gig, you know? You’d serve Mass and then you’d serve weddings sometimes. My brother was once an altar boy at a wedding, and he was standing there with another altar boy in this big, packed church in Chicago where we grew up. And the bride was coming down the aisle, and the organ was playing, and all the pews were filled, and the bride got all the way to the altar, and the groom lifted the veil off of the bride, and right at that moment the other altar boy said, “Aw, she’s ugly.” And then they looked, and they were right next to the video camera. And I know that’s awful, but wouldn’t you give a million dollars to see that wedding video? It was the best moment of this stupid woman’s life, and she’s walking down the aisle, and the organ’s like… And she gets all the way to the altar to her betrothed, and he unveils her to the world and to the eyes of God. And right at that second, for no reason at all, some Cheeto-fingered, rat-mustached, 13-year-old prick decides to go, “Aw, she’s ugly!” Hopefully the videographer knew some sound editing so he could fix it to be like, “Aw, she’s beautiful. She’s enchanting.” I grew up Catholic. I don’t go to church anymore. But I went on Christmas Eve with my parents, ’cause you know how you lie to your parents. So… we go into the church and I was like, “I got this under control.” And then I got schooled because they introduced a bunch of new shit. No, I was going through Mass and I was batting, like, .400. And then in the middle of Mass, the priest said, “Peace be with you.” And everyone said, “And with your spirit.” And I was the one pre-Y2K asshole going, “And also with you. What? Huh? What? Huh? What? When? When?” For those of you that aren’t Catholic, I don’t mean to exclude you, even though we love to exclude you, but… There’s a part in church where the priest says, “Peace be with you.” And for many, many years, we all said… – “And also with you.” – Very good. But they changed it to “And with your spirit.” Because that’s what needed revamping in the Catholic Church. That was the squeaky wheel that needed the grease. In Rome, they were like, “Let’s see. What problems can we solve? Problem one. No.” I’m actually glad they changed that, though. I never liked “And also with you.” I always found that clunky. “And also with you.” That’s not how you talk. – “Have a nice day.” – “And also you having one.” It’s just a little bit wrong, isn’t it? It’s just a little off. Like, when someone’s like, “How are you?” And you’re like, “Nothing much.” And it sort of makes sense. Never begin a sentence with “And also.” You just immediately sound caught off-guard. It sounds like if at the first church ever, like, they weren’t expecting it. Like, the priest was like, “Hey, this is the first time we’ve ever had church. I just wanna say, ‘Peace be with you.'” And they were like… “What? Oh. Uh, yeah. And also you should have some.” “Hey, that’s good. Let’s keep that for 2,000 years. And then change it to trick John.” My wife and I don’t have any children, we have a dog. We have a little puppy named Petunia. She’s a tiny little French bulldog puppy. I like having a puppy that’s a bulldog, ’cause it’s like having a baby that is also a grandma. Her body is young, her face is as old as time. She definitely saw the Nazis march into Paris. She always gives me this look of like, “Oh, the things I have seen, you cocksucker. You have no idea. The Gestapo threw my printing press into a river. But, go, tell your fucking jokes. Bring me my dish.” She said that. Petunia… Petunia is my best friend in the world. I give her a million kisses a day. She does not like me, and barks at me and bites me all day long. We had to get a dog trainer into the apartment because Petunia is a bad dog. We tell her that every day. We go, “Hey, you’re bad at being a dog.” So, the trainer came into the apartment. Sorry, didn’t even walk into the apartment, walked into the threshold and went, “Oh, okay.” Like she was an exorcist or something. She said, “I see what the problem is.” She said, “Petunia has become the alpha of the house.” And then she pointed at me, she said, “You are no longer the alpha of the house.” And in the back of my head, I was like, “I was never the alpha of the house.” I turned to my wife, I was like, “Let’s pretend. It’ll be fun. Yes… My title of alpha, which I once had, how can I reclaim it? Because that was a thing that existed at one time.” She said, “You need to show dominance over your puppy.” These are things people say to me. I said, “How do I do that?” She said, “Well, let me ask you this. Who eats dinner first, you or Petunia?” I was like, “Petunia eats dinner first. She eats dinner at 5:00 p.m., ’cause she’s a foot long and two years old.” She said, “No, you need to eat dinner first. Because the king eats before anyone else eats.” Oh, yes, and what a mighty king I will be, eating dinner at 4:45 in the afternoon. “Look upon your sovereign, Petunia, and tremble. My lands stretch across this entire one bedroom, and I eat dinner whenever I choose, as long as it works for the schedule of a dog.” She said, “Now, you don’t actually have to eat dinner before Petunia. You just have to convince Petunia that you’ve already eaten.” So… for the past month, I shit you not… before my wife and I give Petunia her dish, we take down empty bowls and spoons, and in front of her, we go, “Mmm, dinner. Mmm, good dinner.” Like we’re space aliens in a play about human beings that they wrote, but they didn’t work that hard on. “Mmm, we’re eating dinner.” Meanwhile, Petunia’s just staring at us with her Paul Giamatti face, like… “You’re not eating dinner, cocksucker. Dish, now.” I have a wife and a dog, and we just bought a house. We have a new house. It was built in the ’20s, but it was flipped in 2014. Which means it’s haunted, but it has a lovely kitchen backsplash. Actually, we didn’t buy a house. A bank bought a house, and I’m allowed to keep my shirts and pants there while I pay it off for 30 years. The woman from the bank came over and she showed me my mortgage broken down month by month for 30 years. And she said, “So, for instance, this is what you’ll pay in July of 2029.” And I burst out laughing. I was like, “2029? That’s not a real year. By 2029, I’ll be drinking moon juice with President Jonathan Taylor Thomas. I’m not gonna be writing you a paper check.” I like having a house, but I loved looking for a house, ’cause I love real estate agents. I mean, they are the true heroes. They really are. Have you ever watched HGTV? Real estate agents have to deal with the dumbest people in the world making the biggest decisions of their lives. Every episode of HGTV is like, “Craig and Stacia are looking for a two-story A-frame that’s near Craig’s job in the downtown, but also satisfies Stacia’s need to be near the beach which is nowhere near Craig’s job. With three children and nine on the way, and a max budget of $7… let’s see what Lori Jo can do on this week’s episode of You Don’t Deserve A Beach House.” I loved our real estate agent. It was so fun to hang out with her. It was like hanging out with my mom. ‘Cause, you know, real estate agents always look like your mom. And they have various Chico’s accoutrements. They always have kind of fun mom energy. And they’re always, “So excited to see you two.” We would have little conferences before we walked into a house. She’d go, “Let’s talk. Let’s talk before we go in.” We’re, like, two feet from the door. “So, there’s no toilets. And I know that was on your list. But I think I can get him to budge. Let’s go.” So, we’d have a real estate agent, and then, like, the house would have a real estate agent who’s just some guy sitting in a big chair. And these two always hated each other. They’d be like, “Hi, Tony.” “Hi, Kim.” It’s like, “Jesus Christ! What, were you two in the Eagles together? What is the animosity about?” Our real estate agent wanted us to have a baby more than anyone else in our lives, more than anyone in our family. She hinted about it constantly. Every room she walked into, she’d be like, “So, this could be an office.” “Or maybe a nursery.” “Yeah. No, like we said, we don’t know if we’re gonna have… ” “No, no. I know, I know, you know. You don’t know if you’re gonna have ’em, but you know. You know, you never know. Sometimes you don’t know what’s gonna happen, and then… you know, something happens.” “Well, yeah, that’s how all of life works.” “Okay, all right. Okay. Uh-huh. Mmm. This is an on-fire garbage can. Could be a nursery.” She showed me a backyard once. She goes, “I don’t even like this backyard for you.” I was like, “Oh, do tell.” She said, “It’s all pavement. I think you should have some grass out there. You know, in case you have a couple… little guys… running around in the grass.” And I got offended on behalf of my imaginary kids. I was like, “Hey, lady. I went outside about as much as Powder from the movie Powder. My children are not gonna be playing out on grass. They will be up in their rooms playing violent video games and catfishing pedophiles. These are my children. And that’s my wife!” I didn’t mean to make it sound like we don’t want children. We don’t, but I didn’t mean to make it sound like that. See, I just don’t think babies like me very much. Sometimes babies will point at me, and I don’t care for that shit at all. Like, I’ll be on an elevator, and a baby will be there in its big, like, stroller activity tray, just, like, working on one Cheerio with Bobby Fischer-like intensity. And it’ll look up at me and go… I like to lean in and go, “Stop snitchin’, motherfucker.” And then walk off. ‘Cause you’re never too young to learn our national no-snitching policy. My friends have babies and I don’t do so well with them. I had a run-in with a two-year-old girl. I know there are better ways to start that story, but… My friend, Jeremy, has this two-year-old girl, and I really like her. She’s a sweet kid. I really like his daughter a lot. But I was over at his family’s house for the Fourth of July, and he had his daughter on his knee. And it was a very lovely day. His whole extended family was there. And he was bouncing his two-year-old up and down, and he pointed at me and he said to his two-year-old, “Do you know who that is? That’s your Uncle John.” And I was like, “Oh, my God. That’s so sweet. I’m her Uncle John.” And then the baby pointed at me and said, “Uncle John has a penis.” I thank you for laughing, because no one did that day! Fell deadly silent, is what they all did. Hey, do you know what you’re supposed to say when a baby points at you and knowingly says, “He has a penis”? No, I’m asking, ’cause I don’t know what to say in that situation. Here’s what I went with that day. I said, “Oh, come on!” I don’t know. I thought that’d be good. But then it just made it worse, ’cause it sounded like the baby and I had an arrangement not to talk about it, and she had violated my trust. Like, the baby had been like, “Do you have a penis?” And I was like, “Yes, I do, but you’re a baby, so discretion is key.” And then the next day she goes, “He has a penis,” and I go, “Oh, come on! Someone can’t keep a secret!” Luckily, Jeremy’s wife saved the day. The baby’s mom saved the day. She came in and she picked up the baby, and she was like, “It’s okay. She’s just going through that phase where she says penis and vagina a lot.” Aren’t we all? And, by the way, it would’ve been a totally different situation if the baby had said vagina. Like, if a grown woman had walked in the room, and the baby had been like, “She has a vagina,” the woman could be like, “Yes, I do, and it’s magnificent.” And we would all be like, “Hooray! You are brave!” No one wants to applaud the penis of a 32-year-old weirdo. It’s fun to be married. I’ve never been supervised before. I’m supervised. She studies what I do. Like an anthropologist. She’ll be like, “Sometimes, he will watch a movie on TV even though he already owns that movie on DVD. Pointing this out to him confuses and upsets him.” I had no supervision when I was a kid. We were free to do what we wanted. But also, with that, no one cared about kids. I grew up before children were special. I did. Very early ’80s, right before children became special. Like, I remember when milk carton kids became a thing. When they were like, “Hey, we should start looking for some of these guys. I don’t think they’re just blowing off steam.” No one cared about my opinion when I was a little kid. No one cared what I thought. Sometimes, people would say, “What do you think you’re doing?” But that just meant “Stop.” They didn’t actually wanna know my thought process. They didn’t want me to be like, “Well, I was gonna put this bottle rocket into this carton of eggs, so that when I lit off the bottle rocket, the eggs would explode everywhere.” “Oh, well, that’s very interesting. And what brought you to this experiment?” “Oh, well, thank you for asking. Well… you know how I’m filled with rage? I’m so horny and angry all the time… and I have no outlet for it. So… eggs.” Your opinion doesn’t matter in elementary school either. It matters in college. College is just your opinion. Just you raising your hand and being like, “I think Emily Dickinson’s a lesbian.” And they’re like, “Partial credit.” And that’s a whole thing. But in elementary school, it doesn’t matter what you think, it just matters what you know. You have to have answers to questions. And if you say, “I don’t know,” you get an X on your test, and you get it wrong and that’s not fair, ’cause your brain has never been smaller. Also, that’s not how life works. I’m in my 30s now. If you came to me now and you were like, “Hey, John, name three things that the Stamp Act of 1775 accomplished.” I’d go, “I don’t know. Get out of my apartment,” you know? But when you’re a little kid, you can’t say, “I don’t know.” You should be able to. That should be an acceptable answer on a test. You should be able to write in, “I don’t know. I know you told me. But I have had a very long day. I am very small. And I have no money. So you can imagine the kind of stress that I am under.” Or if it’s one of those true or false questions, you should be able to add a third option which is, “Who’s to say?” Kids are much more supervised now, but also, they have a lot of rights. Like, that’s the biggest civil rights increase I’ve seen in my lifetime. The rights of children have gone through the roof. I had no rights when I was a little kid. I remember, one time, I walked into a supermarket by myself, and I walked in through the double doors, and the woman behind the register just looked at me and she went, “No!” And I went, “All right.” And I turned around and left. That’s how broken I was. And there weren’t special things for kids the way there are now. Like, we would just go see movies. Any movie. Like Back to the Future. That was a movie everyone could see. Kids could kinda see it. Great movie, right? I rewatched it recently. It’s a very weird movie. Marty McFly is a 17-year-old high school student whose best friend is a disgraced nuclear physicist. And, I shit you not, they never explain how they became friends. They never explain it. Not even in a lazy way, like, “Hey, remember when we met in the science building?” They don’t even do that. And we were all fine with it. We were just like, “What, who’s his best friend? A disgraced nuclear physicist? All right, proceed.” What a strange movie to sell to be a family movie. Two guys had to go in and do that. They had to be like, “Okay… we got an idea… for the next big family-action-comedy. All right, it’s about a guy named Marty, and he’s very lazy. He’s always sleeping late.” “Okay. Is he cool like Ferris Bueller?” “No. But he does have this best friend who’s, you know, a disgraced… nuclear physicist.” “I’m confused here. This best friend, this is another student?” “No, no, no. No, this guy’s either, like, 40 or 80. Even we don’t know how old this guy’s supposed to be. But one day, the boy and the scientist, they go back in time and they build a time machine. Whoa!” “Okay. I think I see where you’re going here. They build a time machine, and they go back in time, and they stop the Kennedy assassination.” “Ah! Oh, wow, that’s a really good idea, I mean, we didn’t even think of that.” “All right, well, what do they do with the time machine?” “Well, now I’m embarrassed to say. Ah, well, all right, all right, all right. We thought… We thought it would be funny, you know, if the boy, if he went back in time and, you know, he tried to fuck his mom.” “I don’t know. We thought that’d be fun for people. But, no, good point. No, he doesn’t get to, he doesn’t get to. ‘Cause this family friend named Biff, he comes in and he tries to rape the mom in front of the son. The dad’s gotta beat the rapist off of her. And also, we’re gonna imply that a white man wrote ‘Johnny B. Goode.’ So, we’re gonna take that away from ’em.” “Well, this is the best movie idea I have ever heard in my life. We’re gonna make three of them. Now, you say they go to the past. How about we call it Back to the Past?” “No, no, no. Back to the Future.” “Right, but they go to the past.” “Yeah.” Kids have it very good now. My friend’s a teacher. She told me that, uh… the parents will take the kids’ side over the teacher now. That’s insane. That never happened. My parents trusted every grown-up… more than they trusted me. I don’t mean coaches and teachers. Any human adult’s word… was better than mine. Any hobo or drifter could have taken me by the ear up to my front door and been like, “Excuse me! Your kid bit my dick.” And my mom would be like, “John Edmund Mulaney, did you bite this nice man’s dick?” And I would be the only one who’s like, “Hey, doesn’t anyone wanna know why… his dick was near my biters… in the first place? Isn’t anyone curious… as to how I had access?” Don’t get me wrong, my parents love us. They just didn’t like us. We weren’t friends. People are now like, “My mom’s my best friend.” I was like, “Oh, is she a super bad mom?” My parents didn’t trust us, and they shouldn’t have trusted us. We were little goblins. We were terrible. I remember, one time, we were going to this resort for a vacation when we were little kids. Three weeks before we went to the resort, my dad sat us down and he said, “All right, we’re going to a resort, and I’ve just been informed that the man who owns the resort only has one arm.” And we were like, “Oh, yes! Yay! Yes!” “Now, I’m telling you three weeks in advance, so that you will not freak out when you see that he only has one arm.” “Oh, we’re gonna freak out so bad!” “Yes, John, you have a question?” “How did he lose his arm?” “That’s exactly what you won’t ask.” And then I did ask. I went into the kitchen one day, and I was like, “So, how’d you lose your arm?” And he was like, “Well, I was born with only one arm.” And I was like, “Nah.” No, my parents loved us. It’s just, like, they were the cops, you know? And we were criminals. So, we didn’t get along. We only got along in that way that, like, cops will sometimes be chummy with criminals. Like, when my dad and I would talk, it was like that scene in the movie Heat, when Robert De Niro and Al Pacino sit down in that diner. We kind of had that rapport of, like, “Hmm, we’re not so different, you and I. You have your law practice, and me, I have all these fucking markers.” “I guess we both have responsibilities when you look at it that way.” My dad would respect it if I could get away with breaking a rule. We had a rule in our house, you were not allowed to watch TV on a school night. So, every school night, I would 100% be watching TV. And I would hear my dad coming, I would immediately turn the TV off and grab any book, magazine, periodical, anything. And I’d open it and pretend to be doing homework. My dad would walk in the room and he would go, “What are you doing? Are you watching TV?” And I’d go, “No, man. I’m not watching TV.” And the TV wouldn’t even be dark yet. It would still have, like, a neon green halo around it. It’d be sizzling like a glass of Pepsi. And I would look my dad in the eyes and go, “No, I’m just reading this Yellow Pages.” My dad loved us. He just didn’t care about our general happiness or self-esteem. I remember, one time, we were really little kids. I have two sisters and a brother, and all four of us were in our family car ride for three hours going to Wisconsin. My dad was driving, going down the highway in our white van with wood around the side. ‘Cause you remember when you wanted your car to be made of wood? You remember that era? Where we were like, “How much wood can we get on this car… without it catching on fire?” But then the big announcement. “We here at Plymouth-Chrysler can put a saucy stripe of wood safely on the outside of your car, for all those times you’ve looked at your minivan and thought, ‘Huh! It needs a belt.'” So, we’re going on the highway. We’ve been on the road for three hours. And in the distance, we see a McDonald’s. We see the golden arches. And we got so excited. We started chanting, “McDonald’s! McDonald’s! McDonald’s! McDonald’s!” And my dad pulled into the drive-thru, and we started cheering. And then, he ordered one black coffee for himself. And kept driving. And, you know, as mad as that made me as a little kid, in retrospect, that is the funniest thing I have ever seen in my entire life. How perfect is that? He had a vanload of little kids, and he got black coffee. The one thing from McDonald’s no child could enjoy. My dad is cold-blooded. He once shushed a kid during Lion King on Broadway. That actually happened. We were at Lion King on Broadway, and there was a five-year-old behind us going, “Look, it’s Pumbaa! Look, it’s Timon!” And my dad turned around and said, “Are you going to talk the entire time?” He’s my hero. The weirdest thing when I was a kid was how much they scared us about smoking weed. They scared us about it constantly. And I’ve been on tour this year… Marijuana is legal in 18 or 19 states in some form or another. It’s insane. Yeah, well… All right, don’t “whoo” if you’re white. It’s always been legal for us. Come on, sir. We don’t go to jail for marijuana, you silly billy. When I was arrested with a one-hitter at a Rusted Root concert, I did not serve hard time. I think I got an award. Eighteen or 19 states. And, by the way, I agree, it’s a very good thing. But it’s also a really weird thing, because this is the first time I’ve ever seen a law change because the government is just like, “Fine.” You know? I’ve never seen it before. Like, gay marriage and healthcare, we have to battle it out in the Supreme Court, and be like, “Gay people are humans.” And they’re like, “We’ll think about it.” But with weed, it was just something we wanted really badly, and we kept asking them for 40 years, like, “Excuse me.” And then suddenly the government became like cool parents, and they’re just like, “Okay, here. Take a little. We’d rather you do it in the house than go somewhere else… blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.” Those stupid parents. And that’s a big deal because they scared us about weed constantly. It would be on our sitcoms. We’d be watching Saved by the Bell, we’d be having a great old time. And then, suddenly, a character we had not seen before would show up with some weed and the episode would stop cold in its tracks. And they’d always hold the joint… The bad guy would hold the joint in a villainous way. They’d always offer the joint in a way that no one ever holds a joint. Like it’s a skull in a Shakespeare play. And now it’s legal, and that is great news. Unless you’re a weed dealer, and then it is terrible news. And I don’t just mean because they’re about to lose out to Amazon.com. I more feel bad for weed dealers ’cause they’re about to find out that we only showed them a certain amount of politeness because they had an illegal product. And we don’t show that same politeness to people who deliver legal products. Like, when the Chinese food delivery guy comes, we don’t let him hang out after he’s delivered the Chinese food. And we don’t look the other way when he says weird shit to the girls we’re hanging out with… to try to preserve the relationship. And we definitely don’t give him some of the Chinese food. He’s never like, “Hey, can I get in on those dumplings?” And we’re like, “Yeah, we’re all friends.” What are you, on your phone? Hey, V-neck. Hey! – What’s your name? – Sam. Sam? Cool! What do you do to afford V-necks, Sam? Typing numbers. Ah… numbers, the letters of math. I’m sorry to bother you. I don’t mean to single you out. I hate when people get pulled out of the audience. Like, are you familiar with the Cirque du Soleil, Sam? They’re a group of French assholes that are slowly taking over America by humiliating audience members one by one. We once went to see Cirque du Soleil at Navy Pier when I was a kid, and my brother came, and he was 12 years old. You remember being 12, when you’re like, “No one look at me or I’ll kill myself.” And these French bastards come into the crowd, being like, “Le volunteer!” And they pulled my brother up on stage, and I was like, “No!” And they brought him up, and they reached into his sweatshirt, and they were like… And they had planted a bra, and they pulled out a bra and they were like… And everyone at Navy Pier was like “Ah, ha, ha, ha, ha!” And my brother was like, “That’s great!” I have had other jobs besides comedy. I was an office temp for a while. I really miss that. I loved being a temp, because I would just go from office to office and be terrible at a different job for a week. And then you just get to retire like Lou Gehrig. You’re like, “Thank you. No one will ever see me again.” And they’re like, “Goodbye!” I worked at an office once on 57th Street in New York City. I was there for a couple weeks. I was in a cubicle next to this other cubicle. This woman named Mischa sat in the other cubicle. I want to get the number right. I think Mischa had… about 900,000 photos of her daughter up in her cubicle. Almost like she was trying to solve a conspiracy about her daughter, A Beautiful Mind-style. I think about Mischa two times a week… because of a phone call she had next to me one day. It was one of my first days, and I was sitting next to her. And her phone rang, and this was her call, and I’m quoting. Her phone rang and she said, “Hello? Hush!” And then she hung up. Think about that two times a week. And I didn’t know her well enough by then to be like, “Hey, what kind of a person are you?” You know? Who could she have been talking to? “Hello? Hush!” This was a place of business. My only thought was that it was the CEO of the company being like, “Mischa, help. I’m doing a crossword puzzle. I need a four-letter word for ‘be quiet’ right now.” – “Hush!” – “You’re promoted.” I temped at a little web company on 25th Street in New York City. It was a small web company owned by this old man who was old, old, old money New York. His name was Henry J. Finch IV. Like old, old, old money. Like, his money was in molasses or something. He owned this web company. I have no idea why he owned this web company. I think he won it in a rich man’s game of dice and small binoculars, or something. Mr. Finch wore linen suits. He had suspenders, he had a bow tie, he had a hat, he had a cane with an ivory handle. I’m giving you more description than you need, ’cause I need you to believe me. This was a real person I knew in the 21st century. Mr. Finch was in his 70s. He had an assistant named Mary. She was in her 50s, she was Korean. I don’t know why he had an assistant. He did not need one. Unless he needed someone to be like, “Remember, Mr. Finch, at five o’clock, you need to keep looking like a hard-boiled egg.” One day, Mr. Finch came into the office. It had been raining. Everything I’m about to say to you was said in front of me on that afternoon. Mr. Finch walked into the office, and he was wearing a raincoat, he was wearing a rain hat, and he had his cane. And he walked in and he said, and I’m quoting, “Ah! One feels like a duck splashing around in all this wet! And when one feels like a duck, one is happy!” And then Mary yelled, “Ooh, ducklings!” To which Mr. Finch replied, “Too old to be a duckling. Quack, quack.” And then walked into his office. I think about that every goddamn day. I mean, imagine you’re me. You’re a 22-year-old temp, and you’re so hungover, and you just wanna die every day. And then that happens in front of you, and I don’t know, gives you hope? And I did that a little fast. Let me break that conversation down for you. Mr. Finch walked in, and he began a conversation the way anyone would. “Ah!” “One feels like a duck splashing around in all this wet!” The rain. “And when one feels like a duck, one is happy!” Now, that’s debatable. But rather than debate that point, Mary brought up a new, separate, but interesting point… which was, “Ducklings!” But Mr. Finch, ever the realist about his own age and mortality… said, “Ah, too old to be a duckling!” As if to say, “My duckling days are behind me. Mary, don’t you see? I’m a duck now. And to prove it… Well, I’ll say just about the most famous catchphrase a duck has… ‘Quack, quack.'” And I knew right at that moment, by the way, that it meant nothing to Mr. Finch, what he had said. Crazy people are like that. They have unlimited crazy currency. Like, if I had gone into his office a couple weeks later and been like, “Hey, Finch, you remember that time you were like, ‘Too old to be a duckling. Quack, quack’?” He would just be like, “Ah, perhaps I did quack! But such is life for an old knickerbocker like me.” Like, he’d say something else crazy. That’s the wonderful thing about crazy people, you know? Is that they just have unlimited currency. The things they say mean nothing to them, but they mean everything to me. I was once walking into Penn Station in New York. I was walking down 31st Street towards Eighth Avenue. I’m walking down 31st, there’s this woman standing at Eighth and 31st. I have my little roller suitcase. You can all imagine. I’m walking towards her. She’s smoking a cigarette that is not lit anymore. She’s watching me walk, kind of scanning me up and down, as if she had Terminator vision… where she could see little bits of data, like, “Little honky ass,” and could read information. As I walked past her, she said this to me. I walked past her and she said, and I’m quoting, “Eat ass, suck a dick and sell drugs.” Very dirty, yes? A very upsetting thing to hear, yes? I’m sorry you all had to hear that, but at least you all got to hear it as a group. I was alone out there that afternoon. And she said this totally unprompted. “Eat ass, suck a dick and sell drugs.” It wasn’t like I had paused in front of her and been like, “What should I do with my life?” So, I walk away from her with this to-do list. And I like structure, I like a to-do list. It did dawn on me that that list of things does get better as it goes along, when you really think about it. ‘Cause it starts in a pretty rough place. It starts with just about the worst task a to-do list can start with. But by the end, you have your own small business. And isn’t that the American dream when all’s said and done? That if you eat enough ass and suck enough dick, one day you can sell drugs. Imagine you did all that to sell drugs and then they legalize drugs, and you were like, “But I…” This has been a real thrill to perform here, by the way. I just wanna say that in all sincerity. Thanks for coming to this. Really, really appreciate it. I wanna tell you one more story before I get out of here, about the night I met a guy named Bill Clinton. Now, I don’t… Some of you know who that is? For those of you that don’t, he was President of the United States from 1993 until 2001, and he is a smooth and fantastic hillbilly who should be declared Emperor of the United States of America. Now, I know you know who Bill Clinton is. But I was doing a show at a college, and I mentioned Bill Clinton, and, like, they kind of didn’t know who he was. Like, sorry, they knew the name, right? But they only knew this 2015 Bill Clinton, who’s a very different Bill Clinton. Have you seen his ass lately? What the hell is he trying to pull? He’s all thin now, and he wears these little tight suits, and he’s got these grandpa reading glasses, like, “Hey, I can’t do nothing to nobody no more.” “Oh, me? I’m just an old, old man. I don’t have the appetites.” You know? And he’s always flying around the world with Bill Gates trying to cure AIDS.
That is not the Bill Clinton that we all signed up for 20 years ago. Our Bill Clinton was like a big, fat Buddy Garrity from Friday Night Lights-looking guy, who played the saxophone on Arsenio, and his work in the STD community was not in curing anything at that time. That was the man we all elected president. That was the Bill Clinton that I met. I got to meet Bill Clinton when he was Governor Clinton in 1992, when he was first running for president.
And I got to meet Bill Clinton because my parents had gone to the same college as Bill Clinton. They’re a little younger, but they went to the same college. So, when he was first running for president, he would have all these big, like, alumni fundraisers, and everyone who went was invited to go. Now, this was really cool for a couple reasons. One, I got to meet Bill Clinton. But two, I got to watch my parents watch someone they went to school with become the president. And that is super funny to see, ’cause think about some of the people you went to school with. Now imagine they’re becoming the president. Imagine Sam was becoming the president. It would stir up strong emotions. And my parents had very different opinions on Bill Clinton. My mom loved Bill Clinton, ’cause Bill Clinton was always a really charismatic, handsome guy. I mean, think about how many women he got in the 1990s when he looked like Frank Caliendo doing John Madden. Now… imagine him as a college student. And my mom tells me that there was this sort of chivalrous policy on campus back then, where, late at night, if female students were leaving the library unaccompanied, male students were encouraged to wait out in front and offer to walk them home. That sounds good, right? So, my mom tells me that Bill Clinton would be out in front of the library every single night… just being like, “Hey, can I walk ya home? Hey, can I walk ya home? Hey, can I walk ya home? Hey, can I walk ya home?” And one night, my mom was leaving the library, and Bill Clinton was like, “Hey, can I walk ya home?” And my mom was like, “Hell, yes.” So… This is absolutely true. My mom, little Ellen Stanton, walked arm-in-arm with Bill Clinton to her dorm. And she was like, “You know, I wanted to invite him up for a beer.” And I was like, “Thanks, I’m nine.” But… her roommate was upstairs, so she lost her chance with Bill Clinton. Now, my dad, on the other hand, hated Bill Clinton, because my parents were dating during this time. And also, my dad’s a much more morally-upright, conservative kind of guy. He always told me that he hated it in college that Bill Clinton could, quote, “Get away with anything.” Can you imagine how he felt later?
So, one day, this invitation arrives for a fundraiser where you could meet Bill Clinton. My mom opens it first and she goes, “Oh, we have to go. We have to go see Bill.” And without looking up at her, my dad just says, “Why? It’s not like he’s gonna remember you.” One black coffee. Same motherfucker. So, my mom says, “Fine! I’ll go and I’ll take John.” And I was like, “Hell, yeah.” And I slid in the room in my First Communion suit, ready to go. ‘Cause I loved Bill Clinton. I was ten years old. If you were a kid when Bill Clinton was first released, it was the most exciting thing ever. We’d never seen a cool politician before. And he would go on MTV, and he’d have cool answers to kids’ questions. They’d be like, “Governor, what’s your favorite food?” And he’d be like, “I don’t know, fries?” And we’d be like, “Yay, we eat fries!” I learned to play his campaign song on the piano. It was “Don’t Stop” by Fleetwood Mac… from Rumours, an album written by and for people cheating on each other. He let us know who he was right away. So, I went with my mom, as her date… to reconnect with Governor Bill Clinton. We walked into the ballroom. It was a big hotel ballroom. It was the Palmer House Hilton, big Hilton hotel ballroom. Walked into the ballroom, it was packed with people. It’s actually the ballroom from the end of the movie The Fugitive, remember? So, that ballroom. So, my mom and I walk in, it’s packed with people, the… Sorry, the end where Harrison Ford, as Dr. Richard Kimble, bursts in to confront Dr. Charles Nichols, right? Okay. So, that ballroom. So, my mom and I walk in, it’s packed with people. Why does Kimble confront Nichols? Well, I know we all know this, but… No, no. But, but, but… Kimble, he found out that Nichols, along with Devlin MacGregor and Lentz, who has mysteriously died, they had hired Frederick Sykes, the one-armed man, to kill Kimble. Kimble’s wife wasn’t even the target. I know we all know this. But they were gonna kill Kimble because he wasn’t gonna approve certain liver samples to pass RUD-90. So, Kimble finds out about all of this, and, of course, he’s furious. And he bursts into the ballroom and he goes, “You switched the samples!” And Dr. Nichols is like, “Ladies and gentlemen, my friend, Dr. Richard Kimble.” What accent did that guy have, by the way? He goes, “You switched the samples! And you doctored your research! So that you could have Provasic!” Anyway, so it’s that ballroom. So, we walk into that ballroom. It was packed with people. It was packed with people. A real Who’s Not of Chicago celebrities. Walter Jacobson was there. Walter Jacobson was the local Fox anchor. He’d do fun things where he’d go undercover as a homeless person. And he’d be like, “Oh, what time is the soup?” And they’d be like, “Man, you’re Walter Jacobson.” He was there. Everybody. And on the far side of the ballroom, under a spotlight, we saw a little bit of silver hair. And it was him… Bill Clinton. The Comeback Kid. But he was surrounded by reporters, and photographers, and Secret Service. So, what are you gonna do? Well, if you’re my mom, you ball up the back of my sport coat, and you push me forward like a human shield. And then you start jogging while yelling, “This ten-year-old boy has to meet the next president of the United States!” Kind of implying that I might be dying. My feet were not on the ground. She was swinging me like a snowplow. I was just mowing down fat Chicago Democrats. I pushed past all the reporters, I pushed past all the photographers. We pushed past all the Secret Service. We land at Bill Clinton’s feet. Bill Clinton turns, looks at my mom and says, “Hey, Ellen,” ’cause he never forgets a bitch, ever. My mom melts. She goes, “Hi, Bill.” Then it is revealed that she has no plan. So… she pushes me towards Clinton and she goes, “This is my son, John, and he’s also going to be president.” And I was like, “What the hell are you talking about? I’m not gonna be president.” And I know now that I’m definitely never gonna be president. Not unless everyone gets real cool about a bunch of stuff really quickly. Based on my ten-year-old memory, Bill Clinton is about 13 feet tall. And he leaned down, because, well, I was wearing this button that I bought outside the fundraiser. It was a cartoon button of George H. W. Bush, and it had a quail flying over his head, and it was shitting on his head. And it said, “Bird-brained.” And I thought it was very funny. And Bill Clinton leaned down so that only I could hear and he said, “Hey, man, I like your button.” And I said, “You can do whatever you want forever.” And he took my advice. And… it was the best night of my entire life. And I got home that night… I got home that night, and my dad was still awake, like, reading angry under one lamp, just like… And I went up to him and I went, “Hey! I’m gonna be a Democrat.” “And I’m gonna vote for Bill Clinton.” And without looking up at me, my dad just said, “You have the moral backbone of a chocolate éclair.” You know, how you talk to a child. So, here’s the end of that story. That was 1992.
Let’s flash forward five years to 1997. It is now 1997. I am a sophomore in high school, Bill Clinton is in his second term as president. And on the morning that the Monica Lewinsky scandal breaks on the cover of The New York Times. It had been on the Drudge Report, and then it was on the cover of The New York Times. That morning, I wake up to the newspaper hitting me in the face. I am a teenager asleep in bed, and the newspaper hits me in the face and falls open on my stomach. And I open my eyes to see my dad standing there dressed for work, and he says, “The other shoe just dropped.” And then my dad went in to work to find out that his law firm had been hired to defend Bill Clinton. Good night, Chicago."
Louis C.K.,"Intro
Fade the music out. Let’s roll. Hold there. Lights. Do the lights. Thank you. Thank you very much. I appreciate that. I don’t necessarily agree with you, but I appreciate very much. Well, this is a nice place. This is easily the nicest place For many miles in every direction. That’s how you compliment a building And shit on a town with one sentence. It is odd around here, as I was driving here. There doesn’t seem to be any difference Between the sidewalk and the street for pedestrians here. People just kind of walk in the middle of the road. I love traveling And seeing all the different parts of the country. I live in New York. I live in a– There’s no value to your doing that at all. “The Old Lady And The Dog”
I live– I live in New York. I always– Like, there’s this old lady in my neighborhood, And she’s always walking her dog. She’s always just– she’s very old. She just stands there just being old, And the dog just fights gravity every day, just– The two of them, it’s really– The dog’s got a cloudy eye, and she’s got a cloudy eye, And they just stand there looking at the street In two dimensions together, and– And she’s always wearing, like, this old sweater dress. I guess it was a sweater when she was, like, 5’10”, But now it’s just, like, this sweater And her legs are– her legs are a nightmare. They’re just white with green streaks and bones sticking out. Her legs are awful. I saw a guy with no legs wheeling by, And he was like, “yecch, no thank you. “I do not want those. “I’d rather just have air down here like I have Than to look down at that shit.” I see these two all the time, and I always look at them, And I always think, “god, I hope she dies first.” I do. I hope she dies first, for her sake, Because I don’t want her to lose the dog. I don’t think she’ll be able to handle it. If she dies– If the old lady dies first, I’m not worried about the dog Because the dog doesn’t even know about the old lady. This dog is aware of three inches around his head. He’s living in two-second increments. The second he’s in and the one he just left Is all he knows about, But if he dies, this lady, she’s gonna be destroyed Because this dog is all she has, And I know he’s all she has because she has him. There’s no– If she had one person in her life, She would not keep this piece of shit little dog. Even if just some young woman in her building one morning Were to say, “good morning, gladys,” She’d be like, “good,” And just flush him down the toilet, just– Poom! Poom! The dog just keeps bumping on the drain. Poom! “” she gives up. Ends up just shitting on her dog for the rest of her life. P-p-p! Poom! “My Daughter Likes Fish”
You ever flush a pet down the toilet? I had to flush my daughter’s fish down the toilet. I came home, the fish was dead. She wasn’t home from school yet, so I just flushed the fish, And that’s a weird moment, too, ’cause fish live in water. So you put it in the toilet, floats to the bottom, Like, “yeah, he’s dead,” And then you flush, and it looks like he goes, “wait a second! Aw, shit! “I was taking a nap! Jesus! “you gotta be in constant motion To get any respect in this house.” And then my daughter comes home. “why did he die, da–” Come on. What am I gonna say? Why did he die? Because who gives a shit? That’s the reason. That’s the actual reason, is because didn’t matter That he was alive. That’s why he’s dead. He didn’t know his name, and he didn’t love you back. These are the facts about that fish’s life. My daughter likes fish. We took her to the aquarium. I took both my kids to the aquarium in boston, And we were looking at this seal, or sea lion. I don’t know which one. I don’t care. I don’t think they need to be separate things. I really don’t. They don’t care, and we don’t care. There’s, like, three scientists Who give a shit what we call all those things. The scientists could go on TV tomorrow And say, “ok, everybody. “from now on, seals and sea lions and walruses, And–you know what?–Penguins are all seals now,” And we would all be like, “yeah, all right. Fine. Yes. Whatever, man.” Anyway, so we’re looking at this seal/sea lion thing, And he’s looking back at us through the plexiglas, And he’s going– They’re really disgusting in person. Most animals are when you really see them. You ever go to a farm? You think you’re gonna see little, white sheep Going, “baa,” but they’re all fat and shit-colored, And they’re like– Jesus. That thing is awful. Anyway, seals don’t go– They go– My daughter’s like, “what is he saying?” I don’t know! “I’m a slave! Kill me!” “The Food Chain”
Must be awful to be other kinds of stuff, You know? I’m glad I’m this. This is a pretty good deal when you consider the alternatives. Anything else, any other kind of thing, you’re in the food chain. You’re in the food– we are out of the food chain. I don’t know if we fully appreciate the fact That we got out of the food chain. That is a massive upgrade Because for every other living thing, Life ends by being eaten. That’s how all life ends, is– Every single life except human life, Every life ends like this. Aah! Aah! Aah! We’re the only ones that get to just die old in a bed, Just “I love you. Bye.” I mean, imagine if we were still in the food chain On top of everything else. Imagine if we were in the food chain. It would just be another thing you gotta deal with. You’re already having a bad day. You wake in up in the morning. You’re making breakfast. You burn your toast, and it’s too late to try again, And your kid comes in and says, “beh,” and you’re like, “fine,” And it’s just, “why?” You get a thing in the mail That says that your phone’s different, And your mortgage is another company now. What? I don’t get it! Then you’re walking to work like, “why do I even bother? “shit! Goddamn it! “there’s always fucking cheetahs at the train station! Stop it!” You think that sharks– Do you think that sharks would be embarrassed If they knew that we could all see their fins Sticking out the top of the water? I think they’d be bummed ’cause I don’t think sharks are aware of that at all. I think sharks think they’re slick. They swim around like, “hey, nobody has any idea what’s down here,” And we’re all up here like, “there’s totally a shark right there.” It wouldn’t be fun being a predator, either. If you’re a predator, imagine if every time you’re hungry, You gotta chase a guy Who’s running for his life. You gotta– “come on, dude! Shit, get over here!” And just hold him down and bite his neck Till he shuts the fuck up for a minute So you can just sit there and eat his stomach Before you go to work. That would really suck. That’s why animals just– They go, “let’s do this together, man. “you chase the parents away. I am gonna eat the kid, and you circle back.” That’s why they do it like that. “fuck it. I’m eating babies. This is bullshit.” “grownups ain’t worth the meat.” Whoops, all right. All right. shit. Goddamn it. Idiot. This isn’t a gay voice, by the way. It’s not. Shut up. yeah. “Courtyard Confrontation”
I live in New York city, and it’s OK there. I live in a nice building. I never lived in a nice place before. When I was growing up, I had no money. I mean, my mom didn’t. Didn’t matter. I was a child. But I’m not used to it ’cause it’s nice. There’s, like, a pretty courtyard With flowers and a fountain with little marble boys pissing. I don’t know. What is it with fountains? Like, all fountain sculptors are pedophiles, basically. You can’t get a fountain made without– “can you make me a fountain?” “yes, I’ll get started right away! “Yes! Yes! It’s finished!” And it’s just little boys pissing on the face Of a Greek god that looks like him a lot. “just piss on me forever!” Anyway, there’s one of those in the courtyard of my building, And my first week in the building about a year ago, I went down to the courtyard for the first time, And I didn’t look too good, you know? It was a Sunday morning. That’s my least presentable hour. There’s a lot of, you know, just stains, Just like, you know, food and me and whatever… And so I’m sitting there. So? Shut up. Ha ha ha! Anyway, but so there I was. I’m sitting on the stone bench of this courtyard And feeling a little out of place. You know, there’s these fancy doormen and stuff, And then there’s this guy looking at me. I notice he’s looking at me from across the courtyard, And he’s all spiffy-looking. He’s got brown shoes, and he’s looking at me like, “” I can tell he was thinking I don’t live in the building. He thinks I just wandered in off the streets And sat in the courtyard. I can tell he’s thinking of coming over And dealing with me on his own, and I’m sitting there thinking, Like, “please do that. Yes. Please, come on, come on. Come on, come on, come on,” And I’m trying to look even more gross, And I’m, like, pulling up my shirt, “” And then I see him go, “no. That’s not gonna do at all,” And he comes over to me, “” and I’m like, “Num num num!” I’m so excited to have this thing, a confrontation Where I’m not wrong at all and he thinks I am. “rrgh!” So he comes over, says, “excuse me, “do you live in this building?” And I said, “no,” ’cause why not start there? I said, “no.” He goes, “well then, what are you doing here?” And I said, “I just need to rest. I’m having a hard time.” He says, “this is private property,” And I said, “well, I don’t really believe in that.” You know, just the worst things I could say from his point of view is basically all the things I was saying, And he goes, “well, if you don’t leave, I’m gonna talk to the doorman.” I was like, “can I just stay, like, five more hours?” So he’s–“no,” and he goes over to the doorman and I see him talking about me to the doorman like this, and then I see the doorman going, “no. That guy lives here. It’s OK,” And the look on his face– mwah mwah! Num num!– It was just so– It was this beautiful cocktail of anger and confusion. It’s like I had invented a new way to hurt somebody’s feelings. That’s how excited I was. “Getting What ‘Old’ Is”
I’m 45 now, So I’m either halfway through a healthy life or almost done with a not-so-healthy life. I don’t know which one. I won’t know till it’s over where this was. I don’t know how long I’m gonna live. I don’t know. Nobody knows, I guess. I think human life expectancy is pretty good. We get a good run, you know? Some people die early, you know? If I die now, people will be like, “that’s too bad.” If I die five years from now, they’ll be like, “well, all right,” like it’s not even– It’s– Like, as soon as you’re 50, you’re a candidate. You know, there’s no candlelight vigils for 50-year-old guys that die, and you start pushing– You know, some people get to be like, 80s, 90s. You know, there are people that get to, like, 114, and then they’re in the news, and it’s always some old guy, “I met Napoleon.” No, you didn’t, you liar, You oldest liar in the world. But 45, you know, you’re not old yet, But you start having moments Where you kind of start getting what old is, Especially if you didn’t take care of yourself, you know? I have moments where I’m like, “wow, this seems early for this.” Like, this is something that happens to me a lot. I’ll be sitting watching TV or doing nothing, And all of a sudden, I’ll realize, “I need to wipe my ass right now.” “I mean, nothing happened, But I really gotta wipe my ass right now. Right now.” Gotta make trips to the bathroom just to wipe my ass. How does this happen already? I’m 45. Already, my asshole’s just like, “Just– ” My asshole– My asshole’s like the waistband on old pajama bottoms, Just kinda… Loose and ineffectual. My asshole’s like a bag of leaves that nobody tied up. It’s just sitting on the lawn, full and open, Puking leaves onto the grass with every wisp of wind. Some kid kicks it over on his way home From a tough day at middle school. “rats.” That’s a pretty accurate description of my asshole. Here’s another thing about my age right now. If I’m– OK. Say I’m sitting down. If I’m sitting anywhere, which–ha ha ha!– I love sitting so much– I would take sitting and doing nothing To standing and fucking any day. This is way better than coming. This is way better. This is what– At my age, if I’m sitting down and somebody tells me I need to get up and go to another room, I need to be told all the information why first. You gotta explain all that shit to me. “what? Why do I– no. Why, though?” “Your car is being towed right now!” “Well, that’s what happens to me, then. That’s– I accept that.” ’cause getting up is a whole thing. It means first, I have to decide, “do I really want to be alive anymore?” Like, let’s start with that, And then I gotta, “” start kind of rocking to get momentum, “” like I’m trying to get an old Honda out of a snow bank. “shit.” “Putting On Socks”
The worst part of my day, worst part of every day of my life, is when I have to put on my socks. Putting on my socks is the worst part of every day, and it always will be. Even if I have a terrible day in the future Where my grandmother is murdered by my other grandmother, If that ever happened to me, the worst part of that day Will be when I put on my socks because– Putting on my socks, that means I have to– Here’s what I have to do. I have to get my hands past my pointed toe. I don’t even know how I do it. I’m sitting here. I don’t know how I do that. It’s ’cause you have to– It’s like folding a bowling ball in half. Soon as I start, I can feel– I’m pushing all the fat up into my vital organs, And I just feel all the systems failing. “beep, beep, beep!” And I have to, like, lay on my back like an eight-year-old And go like this, and I start passing out. And I know other people’s lives are hard. Ha ha ha! I know. I saw an interview on TV with Michael J. Fox, And he has Parkinson’s, and he was describing brushing his teeth, and he said It takes him two hours a day, and he said it’s agony, And I saw this and I thought, “OK. That’s hard.” That is hard, And so is putting on my socks. Sorry, Michael. Doesn’t make it easier to know about your thing. Tell you what. I’ll help you brush your teeth, you help me with the socks. “If You’re Older You’re Smarter”
I don’t know. I like getting older, though. Life is an education, and if you’re older, you’re smarter. I just believe that. If you’re in an argument with somebody And they’re older than you, you should listen to them. It doesn’t mean they’re right. It means that even if they’re wrong, Their wrongness is rooted in more information than you have. They’ve been there longer. If you’re older, you’re smarter. How many people here, by applause, are 45 or older? 45 or older, applaud. OK. That’s about 60 people out of 2,400. Here’s the interesting thing. There’s way more. I can see you. There’s so many more. This is Arizona. There are way more people in that demographic, But they didn’t clap. Why? ’cause they’re smart. They’re sitting in the dark going, “I don’t have to clap. I don’t have to do anything.” They’re not doing it, and they’re right. You know why? ’cause never identify yourself. Never. Are you crazy? You don’t know why I’m asking. How do you know what– OK. Burn them all. Burn everybody over 45. How do you know I’m not gonna do that? How many people here, by applause, are 40 or younger? 40 or younger, applaud. That’s every time. “Whoo! Whoo!” every time. That is a weird thing to celebrate in a room where you’re not the only people here. That’s like going to a cancer ward– “not me! Whoo! I don’t have it! I don’t have it!” If you’re older, you’re smarter. A 55-year-old garbage man is a million times smarter than a 28-year-old with three ph.D.S, Especially smarter than him, ’cause this idiot Has been thinking about three things for, like, 15 years. He’s worthless. The garbage man is 55. He’s had some experience. Things have happened to him. He went to cape cod one summer. He saw a dead guy floating in the motel pool. He took a bus to Montreal. He got a hand job at a fair… From a miner. I mean a miner. Not a minor, a miner. You understand? A miner. A grown man who works in a mine With dirty hands jacked him off at a county fair. That’s what I’m saying happened to the 55-year-old. You see? He’s had some experience. He knows more. More has happened to him. He’s seen more. He’s seen history. He’s witnessed history, Even if it’s not ancient history. He saw Nixon resign on live television. Me and those few people that clapped, We saw the president of America cry And then quit being the president. That shit was crazy ’cause none of us knew what was gonna happen next. Today people are like, “the president’s kind of disappointing.” Really? Our president wept like an insane person And then got on a helicopter and flew away… And the whole nation just watched him go. “Getting Older Makes My Life Better”
I like getting older, though, because for me, The kind of guy I am, getting older Makes my life better, you know, Like, my sex life, way better at 45, Look, ’cause this situation is OK at 45. This is not a fun kind of a 17-year-old to be. And some people, their life is better when they’re younger. You know, young dudes, young, skinny dudes, Best life in the world is being a young, skinny dude. They don’t have to do anything. They just show up With a big adam’s apple and a smelly t-shirt. “hey, I’m here for the easy pussy for the rest of my life.” “so where do I– everywhere? OK. Cool.” But for guys like me, this is not a fun youth. It gets better. I’d like to make one of those “it gets better” ads For just dumpy, young guys. We could use a little help, a little encouragement, Just somebody on TV, “listen, man. “I know it’s tough right now. “You’re vaguely heavy with no face. “You have zero value on the sexual marketplace. “You feel invisible to the girls in school because you are, “but it gets better because you’ll all grow up, “and you pretty much look just like this your whole life, “and they don’t. “Their options start running out really fast, “and you’re gonna be there. “As long as you stay relatively employed and washed, “you’re gonna be amazing in your 40s. “You’re gonna be– “you’re gonna be the branch that she can grab “before she hits the ground. “It’s gonna be so great. “It just takes time for her circumstances “to match your looks, but it’s gonna happen. “It’s gonna happen. “When real shit matters, you’re gonna be the sexiest motherfucker in the world.” It’s just time. That’s all it takes. There’s a formula to this. It’s pussy plus time over income squared. “Everybody Has Their Time”
Everybody has their time. Everybody has their time. I mean, not everybody. There are people out there who there’s just nobody for them. Yep. People like to say things like, “there’s someone for everyone.” Nope! Not at all true, and stop saying it ’cause it’s mean to people who never find anybody. There are millions of people out there who we’ve all unanimously decided, they are light speed ugly and nobody kisses them on the lips, even. Nobody touches their genitals their entire life. They just wash it, and then they die. That’s all that happens, “aww,” and if you’re feeling bad for them, you can go find one and fuck one tomorrow, you can just solve the problem right there with all that kindness in your heart. “Aww.” Well, go fuck one. “Nah.” I didn’t think so. That’s the one way we’re all mean. Nobody does that. Nobody fucks down, nobody. People fuck up or across. Some women fuck down because a guy talked them into that it was up. Some guy, “yeah. No. You should. I’m totally up. Yeah.” “Dating Takes Courage”
It’s a weird selection process that we have. Dating really is– It’s how we evolve, is dating. It’s how we choose each other, And dating is a real drag for a lot of people, But I always think it’s a nice thing. You know, when I see a date, I’m always happy when I see a couple on a date ’cause it means people are still trying, you know? You see a couple on a date, It means there’s still courage out there. That takes courage, to go on a date, for both sides, Two very different kinds of courage. The male courage, traditionally speaking, is that he decided to ask. He went up to a random woman who he has no idea If she’s gonna like him or not and he walked up to her terrified. Everything in your body is telling you, “just go the fuck home and jerk off. Don’t do this!” But he walked up and said, “hi. Yes,” And she’s like, “” “no, no, no. A second. Give me a second,” And you try to get through this membrane of, you know– And then, if it works And you say, “you wanna go out sometime?” Sometimes she’ll say yes, and if she says yes, that’s her courage, and the courage it takes for a woman to say yes is beyond anything I can imagine. A woman saying yes to a date with a man is literally insane and ill-advised, and the whole species’ existence counts on them doing it, and I don’t know how they– How do women still go out with guys when you consider the fact that there is no greater threat to women than men? We’re the number-one threat to women. Globally and historically, we’re the number-one cause of injury and mayhem to women. We’re the worst thing that ever happens to them. That’s true. You know what our number-one threat is? Heart disease. That’s the whole thing. That’s it, just our own heart going, “dude, I can’t– “you can’t keep doing this. I told you three strokes ago that this is not smart,” But women still– “yeah. I’ll go out with you alone at night.” What are you, nuts? “I’ll get in your car with you with my little shoulders. Hi. Where are we going?” “To your death, statistically.” How do they still do it? If you’re a guy, try to imagine that you could only date a half-bear, half-lion, And you’re like, “I hope this one’s nice. I hope he doesn’t do what he’s going to do.” “First Date”
I always– I love when I see a date. You know, when you see a date, you can tell it’s the first date ’cause of the way they’re walking together And she’s looking up at his face trying to figure him out, And he’s just a mess. A guy on a first date just has no actual personality. He’s just a mishmash of different kinds of dudes for a couple of seconds each, just anything, no cohesive– Just like a ransom note cut out of a lot of magazines, just, you know, “well… “ha ha! “well, yes. I think so, too. Ha ha! Rrgh…” Whatever, just like a blind dick in space just thrusting in infinite directions Hoping to find pay dirt at someplace, And then sometimes you see a date that’s later down the line and something has happened. There’s something that happens in a date that I never get to witness ’cause women do this. They get to do it inside. They get to just decide quietly, “I’m gonna let him fuck me.” They just get to decide. Something he says, and she’s like, “that was good. He’s gonna fuck me later,” And he has no idea. He’s still, like, trying all this shit. He still has no idea he’s already in there. “Tits”
Guys are– We love women a lot– all men do– And we just look at you. That’s what I do. I just look at women. I just–“” Like they’re, you know, cakes in windows. I just–“” I was walking in New York once, and there’s these two very cute women walking behind me, and I was trying to walk slowly so I could hear what they were saying to each other, you know, ’cause they were cute, so I wanted to hear them, like that’s gonna help me in any way, to hear their– “don’t you wish the guy walking in front of us would squeeze our tits for, like, one second?” OK. Here. Here I go. Thank you. It’s really a flaw in men that we would all do that. If you’re a woman, you could ask any guy on planet earth, “could you squeeze my tit for one second?” And 100% of us will go, “yes, of course.” That doesn’t matter. I could be doing open heart surgery. “yeah. Ok.” Beep! “don’t worry. He’s not your tits. Don’t worry about it.” I don’t know why we love tits so much. Some people say it’s because we breastfeed, but so do women, Or, you know, baby women. Not grown-up women, don’t usually– You don’t see, like, a 68-year-old woman, Like, a stately look– You know, like Sigourney weaver, Like, sucking milk out of a young woman’s tit. “thank you, Deborah. I’ll see you tomorrow at 2:00.” It’s not usually the thing, Is the elderly breastfeeding from the young, Except for at the end of “the grapes of wrath,” Which I don’t mean to ruin that book for you, But you should have read it by now. I don’t know if you read “the grapes of wrath,” But that’s how it ends, with an old, dying man Sucking milk out of a young girl’s tits, And then the book is over, and you’re like, “Jesus! What happened at the end there? That’s crazy.” There’s no other book in that genre. There’s no dense, historic classic That ends with a weird, porny paragraph at the very– “and then Anna Karenina shat on his chest.” “holy moly with that!” “the end.” “my god! “that is a violent shift in tone at the end of that book. I’ve been reading this book for three months.” But we do, we love tits, And you always know a tit. You always know a tit. You know, like you ever been in a crowded place– Like a subway or like, you know, a sports stadium– And you’re smooshed in with other people And your elbow touches a tit behind you, you’re like, “that’s a tit. I just touched it. I know that was a tit. I know it!” Because the sensitivity of the male elbow To tit flesh specifically is unbelievable, just to tits, ’cause you could drive a tack in there, I’m not gonna feel it, But a tit– Through a shirt and a sweater and a jacket And her jacket, sweater, shirt and bra, somehow… “it’s a tit! I touched a tit! “I touched a tit! I touched one tit. One tit.” That’s rare, to touch one tit. It’s like a four-leaf clover. Usually, you touch two. The only time you touch one tit is when it was an accident Or you didn’t have permission, But otherwise… When tit access is granted, It’s usually good for two tits at a time. It’s, once you’re on one– You really have to screw up really badly and quickly To lose tit access between tits one and two. You must have said something really dumb on the first tit That you didn’t get the second one. “yeah, it’s like your mom’s dirty whore tit.” “why? What? I said I liked it. “that’s what I meant, is that I like it. “I like your mom’s dirty whore tit, And I like yours,” And if it’s up to the guy, we’re gonna touch both tits. No guy touches a tit and then goes, “you know what? “I’m good with the one. That’s fine for me. Everything in moderation.” We’re gonna touch both, Even if something terrible happens in the middle of– “yeah–” “there’s a bomb!” “shit! Come on, let’s get– “come on! Let’s get your tits out of here!” “Divorce”
I’ve seen a few tits. I’ve seen–I don’t know– 48 maybe. I don’t know. I had my history in my life, you know? I’ve been divorced for five years, And it’s been the best part of my life, being divorced, Easily my favorite part of my life. I love being divorced. Every year has been better than the last. That is the only time I can say that about, and by the way, I’m not saying don’t get married. If you meet somebody, fall in love and get married, And then get divorced because that’s the best part. It’s the best part. Marriage is just like a larva stage for true happiness, Which is divorce, Because you just let go and everything’s fine now. Divorce is forever. It really actually is. Marriage is for how long you can hack it, But divorce just gets stronger like a piece of oak. Nobody ever says, ” my divorce is falling apart. It’s over. I can’t take it.” And again, if you’re in a good marriage, stay in it. If you’re in the best marriage ever, stay in it. I’m just saying, if you got out, it would be better. That’s just a fact. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, but it’s true. Everything’s better. My ex-wife and I, This is the best part of our knowing each other. We’re good co-parents because we live apart and we’re friends. Our kids go to her half the week, They come to me half the week, and I’m a good father. I’m an attentive, focused, and responsible father. Do you know why? ‘Cause I get to say good-bye to these kids every week. Are you shitting me? It’s like every parent’s fantasy. Who can’t be a good father for half of every week? No matter how bad it gets, every Wednesday, I get to go, “good-bye, girls. “Daddy’s gonna go upstairs and pour whiskey all over his naked body right now.” “I’m gonna lay in my own filth until two seconds before you come back here.” That’s why I’m such a good dad. “Videoing Your Kids”
My daughter was having a dance thing at her school. They had this big dance. Anyway, we all went, all the parents, And everybody’s there, and everybody’s got their phone, Every single parent. It was an amazing thing to watch ’cause kids are dancing And every parent is standing there like this. Every single person was blocking their vision Of their actual child with their phone, and the kids– I went over by the stage and the kids– There’s people holding iPads in front of their faces. It looked like we’re all in the witness protection program. Like, the kids can’t see their parents, And everybody’s watching a shitty movie Of something that’s happening ten feet– Like, look at your fucking kid. The resolution on the kid is unbelievable if you just look. It’s totally HD. Why are you taping this? You’re never gonna watch it. In a million years, you’re not gonna watch videos Of your kids doing shit you missed The first time it happened. You don’t watch it. You just put it on Facebook. “here, you watch it. I wanna take a nap now.” And then you get to read all the comments. “my god! “it’s so cute! Ngaah!” And guess what? They’re not watching it, either. They’re not watching the video. These kids are dancing for no one. Nobody watches the videos on your Facebook. They see the first frame of a kid and they go, “that’s very nice. OK. Back to this.” Nobody’s watching your kids’ videos on Facebook, I promise you. I’ll prove it to you. Next time you tape your kid’s dance, Tape one second of it and then add 20 minutes of just your own asshole. Just go in the bathroom and just record your own anus opening and closing for 20 minutes. Tack it onto your kid dancing for a second. Put that on Facebook. Everybody will write the same thing. “That’s adorable! I think I see a future star!” “Life Is A Good Deal”
Don’t tape shit on your– Life is short. Life is very short. I like life. I like it. I feel like even if it ends up being short, I got lucky to have it ’cause life is an amazing gift When you think about what you get with a basic life, Not even a particularly lucky life or a healthy life. If you have a life, that’s an ama– Here’s your boilerplate deal with life. This is basic cable, what you get when you get life. You get to be on earth. First of all–my god– what a location. This is earth, and for trillions of miles in every direction, It fucking sucks so bad. It’s so shitty that your eyes bolt out of your head ’cause it sucks so bad. You get to be on earth and look at shit, As long as you’re not blind or whatever it is. You get to be here. You get to eat food. You get to put bacon in your mouth. I mean, when you have bacon in your mouth, It doesn’t matter who’s president or anything, You just–“” Every time I’m eating bacon, I think, “I could die right now,” and I mean it! That’s how good life is. You get to– you get to fuck. That’s free if you’re smart. That comes with. That’s part of the deal. Where else are you gonna get that deal? You get to put your dick in there and go in and out, Pretty good, And if you’re a woman, you get to just lay back And just have a dick just shoving in and out of you awkwardly Anytime you want, anytime you want. If you’re a gay man, you get to just fill your boyfriend’s ass with your dick, just fill it all the way to the balls, And it’s nice and warm and tight in there, And he’s your buddy. If you’re a lesbian, You get to do all the stuff they’re doing, and… It’s a great deal. You get to eat. You get to fuck. You get to read “to kill a mockingbird.” It’s a great life. So, you know, I’m not worried about it ending. “Behind The Wheel”
It’s pretty good, and I’ve wasted a lot of time Just being angry at people I don’t know. You know, it’s amazing how nasty we can get as people, Depending on the situation. Like, most people are OK as long as they’re OK, But if you put people in certain contexts, they just change. Like, when I’m in my car, I have a different set of values. I am the worst person I can be when I’m behind the wheel, which is when I’m at my most dangerous. When you’re driving, That’s when you need to be the most compassionate And responsible of any other time in your life ’cause you are fucking driving a weapon amongst weapons, and yet it’s the worst people get, and I am the worst. One time, I was driving, and there was a guy ahead of me, And he kind of–I don’t know– sorta drifted into my lane for a second, and this came out of my mouth. I said, “worthless piece of shit.” I mean, what an indictment. What kind of a way is that to feel about another human being? “Worthless piece of shit”? That’s somebody’s son. And things I’ve said to other people. I was once driving, and some guy in a pickup truck did– I don’t remember, even– And I yelled out my window, I said, “hey, fuck you!” Where outside of a car is that even nearly OK? If you were in an elevator And you were, like, right next to a person’s body And, whatever, like, he leaned into you a little bit, Would you ever turn right to their face and go, “hey, fuck you!”? “worthless piece of shit!” No. Literally zero people would ever do that, but put a couple of pieces of glass and some road between you, there’s nothing you would not say to them. “I hope you die!” I said that to a person. “I hope you die!” Why? ’cause you made me go like this for half a second of my life. You tested my reflexes, and it worked out fine! So now I hope your kids grow up motherless!” I mean, what am I capable of? I’d like to think that I’m a nice person, But I don’t know, man. “If Murder Was Legal”
A lot of it is context. There’s a lot of things I wonder if the world was different. Like, if murder was legal, I might have killed a few people. I don’t know. I’d love to think, “I would never do that,” But we really need the law against murder For one simple reason. The law against murder Is the number-one thing preventing murder. We’d like to think it’s ’cause, Like, “I would never do that.” No. It’s ’cause it really sucks getting caught murdering, a lot. If murder was legal, or just a misdemeanor– Like you get a thing in the mail– “shit, they had a camera there. Well.” If murder was legal, there would be so much murder. Regular people would murder. Murderers would murder even more, And then really nice, sweet people Would murder a few people, But nobody would murder no people. You wouldn’t trust somebody who didn’t murder If murder was legal. You wouldn’t like them. “I never killed anybody.” “OK. Nice meeting you. Yecch, what a creep. “I mean, not even a hooker? Live a life. “what’s wrong with that guy? He’s like a Mormon or some shit. I hate those guys.” “I think he’s nice.” “shut up, Janet.” They would just– If murder was legal, there would be a lot of murder. Children would behave very differently Because mostly parents would be murdering their own kids, That’s mostly what would happen if murder was legal. You know, you’d go to a mall, there’d be, Like eight, different moms in the mall just– “I told you to stop it! You didn’t listen to me!” Just–pbbt! There’d be just– You’d be stepping over dead kids. There’d be, like, a new problem. “you have to clean up your kids “when you kill them ’cause it’s gross. “it’s bad for the environment. “if you murder your child in a public place, “please use one of the red bags that are in the dispensers “every three feet of America. “put your murdered child in the red bag “with a logo of a murdered kid on it “next to the other logo that tells you “not to let your alive kid play with the plastic bag “because they might suffocate, In which case you could just leave them in the bag.” That is a whole bunch of horrible thoughts Right in a row, right in a row. That is a compressed area of bad thought. “Of Course, But Maybe”
You know, you have your bad thoughts. Hopefully you do good things. Everybody has a competition in their brain of good thoughts and bad thoughts. Hopefully, the good thoughts win. For me, I always have both. I have, like, the thing I believe, the good thing– That’s the thing I believe– and then there’s this thing, and I don’t believe it, but it is there. It’s always this thing and then this thing. It’s become a category in my brain That I call, “of course… But maybe…” I’ll give you an example, OK? Like, of course children who have nut allergies need to be protected, of course. We have to segregate their food from nuts, Have their medication available at all times, and anybody who manufactures or serves food needs to be aware of deadly nut allergies, of course, but maybe… Maybe if touching a nut kills you, you’re supposed to die. Of course not. Of course not. Of course not. Jesus. I have a nephew who has that. I’d be devastated if something happened to him, but maybe… maybe if we all just do this for one year, we’re done with nut allergies forever. No. Of course not. Of course, if you’re fighting for your country and you get shot or hurt, it’s a terrible tragedy, of course, of course… But maybe… Maybe if you pick up a gun and go to another country and you get shot, it’s not that weird. Maybe if you get shot by the dude you were just shooting at, It’s a tiny bit your fault. Of course, of course slavery is the worst thing that ever happened. Listen, listen. You all clapped for dead kids with the nuts. For kids dying from nuts, you applauded, So you’re in this with me now. Do you understand? You don’t get to cherry-pick. Those kids did nothing to you. Of course, of course slavery is the worst thing that ever happened. Of course it is, every time it’s happened– Black people in America, Jews in Egypt. Every time a whole race of people has been enslaved, it’s a terrible, horrible thing, of course… But maybe… Maybe every incredible human achievement in history was done with slaves. Every single thing where you go, “how did they build those pyramids?” They just threw human death and suffering at them until they were finished. How did we traverse the nation with the railroad so quickly? We just threw Chinese people in caves and blew ’em up and didn’t give a shit what happened to them. There’s no end to what you can do when you don’t give a fuck about particular people. You can do anything. That’s where human greatness comes from, is that we’re shitty people, that we fuck others over. Even today, how do we have this amazing microtechnology? Because the factory where they’re making these, They jump off the fucking roof ’cause it’s a nightmare in there. You really have a choice. You can have candles and horses and be a little kinder to each other or let someone suffer immeasurably far away Just so you can leave a mean comment on YouTube while you’re taking a shit. Thanks a lot, folks. You guys were great. Thank you very, very much. Thank you."
Mike Birbiglia,"Wow. Hey, thank you. Thanks. Thank you, guys. Hey, Seattle. Nice to see you. Look at this. Look at us. We’re here. This is crazy. It’s insane. So about five years ago, pretty much everyone who I know started to get married, and that was strange for me because I don’t really believe in the idea of marriage. And that would have been fine, except I have a problem where sometimes when I think that I am right about something, it can be a real source of tension between me and the person I’m arguing with. And the reason it’s a source of tension is that I’m right. And so I remember distinctly talking to my friend Dana, and she goes, “Well, you don’t believe in marriage for you, but, of course, you believe in it for other people.” And I was like, “No, I think it’s insane, you know, for anyone.” And she said, “Why?”
And I said, “Well, first of all, it just seems doomed.” You know, 50% of marriages end in divorce. That’s just first marriages, by the way. Second marriages, 60% to 62% end in divorce. Third marriages, 70% to 75% end in divorce. That’s a learning curve.
Second of all, monogamy’s impossible, or at the very least, not a sure thing. When I say that, I think people assume that I’m implying that men are incapable of being faithful. I think women are just as incapable, but for more sophisticated reasons, you know. I mean, with men, we’re just really simple. We have a very simple sexuality. When I say that, my female friends are like, “Well, we like sex just as much as you do.” And I said, “Sure, but it’s different.” And they say, “How?” And I say, “Have you ever masturbated while driving a car?”
Number three… I’m never gonna be happy. Why would anyone want to be a part of that? I think that’s not brought up often enough. I, um, I didn’t know that would be the reaction. Oh, no, that’s the hopeful part. The, uh… I had one ally in all this, which is my friend Andy, and he’s a comedian as well. Not only did we decide we weren’t gonna get married, we actually tried to stop other people we knew from getting married. Yeah, we were pretty good at it. Like, we stopped or put on hold three or four marriages, you know. We were… we were pretty good. I mean, we weren’t like the best in the world. I’m sure there are better in Europe. But we were… we were solid, you know. Like, so, like, for example, at point my friend Alex was about to get engaged. And so we just took him to dinner. And during dessert, we gave him a long, hard stare. We said, “Are you sure this is what you want to do?” And then we went cold to give him the sense of what it would feel like when we weren’t friends anymore. So February 27, 2007, I’m at Andy’s house in Los Angeles. And earlier in the night, I got in an argument with my girlfriend on the phone, and it was a bad one because I knew that I was right. And Andy was a perfect person to be with in this kind of a situation ’cause he’s the kind of friend who just takes your side regardless of whether you’re right. He says stuff like, “She sounds crazy.” Like, even if what she’s saying isn’t that crazy, like, you’d be like, “She only eats whole wheat bagels.” He’d be like, “She sounds crazy!” You’d be like, “That’s not even the crazy part!” You know. So I’m telling him about his argument. And he goes, “You’re right.” I go, “I know. I’m right.” He goes, “Yeah, you’re right.” I go, “I know I’m right. I got to tell her about this in the morning.” And I get in my rental car to head back to my hotel, and I’m driving out of Andy’s small road, and I’m t-boned! I don’t know if you’re familiar with this term, uh… This is the culinary way of describing when you are hit by another car driver’s side at a 90-degree angle, like a t-bone steak. And in 1 1/2 seconds, I’m spun around, and I think I’m dead. No, wait, I’m paralyzed. And then I hear nothing. And then I hear the other car skid out and drive away. I know. Let me tell you how this argument started. I met Jenny in St. Louis. My friend Andy and I were working for her company. They were performing for a bunch of wrestling coaches, which is really my demographic. I, uh… No, I was very nervous about this. I was actually kind of about to go onstage, and I was, like, scrawling notes on my napkin. A lot of times I’ll write kind of manic notes on napkins or hotel stationary. And Jenny looked at me, and she goes, “What are you doing?” And I said, “I’m writing my set list.” And then she goes, “I think it’ll be fine.” And I was like, “No, it won’t be fine.” And then she was like, “I think it will be okay.” And I said, “Why do you think that?” And she said, “Well, you look so nervous, I think they’ll feel sorry for you.” But Jenny has this really soft, sweet voice, like the kind of voice where you kind of get away with saying anything. At one point, she said, “It seems like you comedians are a lot funnier onstage.” Normally, I’d be offended by that, but in this instance, I was like, “You are right. That is a great point. You are beautiful, you know.” She re… she really was. You know, from the moment I met Jenny, I knew I wanted to sleep with her at least once. Stay with me. Uh, I mean… I mean that in, like, in the most meaningful way. Like, that was the most that I was capable of in my life at that point. I… I’d jus… I’d just come off a really long, difficult breakup with my college sweetheart where we were gonna get married, and… and then we weren’t. And then when we weren’t, I was so heartbroken, I just kind of swore off the idea of marriage or even living with someone entirely, you know, and… But from the moment I met Jenny, I just wanted to be with her. And I didn’t… I didn’t think it was gonna happen. Like, I don’t have that kind of confidence. I actually think of myself as a sex maybe, which is to say that if I’m seeing a girl, she’d think, “I’d have sex with him, maybe.” You know, and I’m… I’m not ashamed of that. There were periods in my life where I was a sex never. Or a sex with self always. Yeah. And often. Surprisingly often. Yeah, I just don’t give off a great first impression. Like, I’ll give you an example. Like, this is the shirt I decided to wear tonight. Like, I didn’t… I didn’t spill mustard on the real shirt and this is the backup shirt. I mean, this is my “A” outfit. My “B” outfit was naked. I like to dress down to perpetuate the myth that I might be a fixer-upper. I’ve reached this point in my life I don’t really look in the mirror before I leave my apartment. I glance at it to make sure I’m not bleeding. You know what I mean? Like… But I don’t stare at the mirror. If I stare at the mirror, I get angry. Like, I feel like I’m complaining about a bad call a ref just made. I’m like, “Come on!” “You’re blind if you’re leaving the house like that!” And the ref is God, and the competing teams are my gut and my receding hairline. And it’s a close game ’cause my gut is large and my hairline is fast, and I’m all riled up. I’m about to charge the field. And the guy comes by with fried dough. And I’m like, “Next time.” You know, that’s how I go for fried dough, ’cause I have a problem. I just… This is ridiculous. Can you follow me over here for a second? I’m gonna jump off stage. This is only in Seattle where someone is wearing no shoes? No shoes or socks? What? Who are you people? What is wrong with you? I would expect that behavior from this guy, but not you, sir, not you! What is this? Where do you think you are? From Seattle! Yeah, Seattle. So I’ve been going, uh, recently to a women’s exercise class. I-I’ve given up on having a traditional male physique. And so now I’m going for strong, independent woman. And, uh… It’s going pretty well, you know. I’m not as good in the class as you might think. Sometimes I’ll kind of skip whole sections of the more difficult exercises when the instructor isn’t looking. But then when she looks over, I always have to strike a pose as though I’ve been doing what everybody else has been doing. It reminds me of the Olympics. You know how they do gymnastics, how they’ll have those… The girls will do those crazy flips and twirls. And every once in a while… And I’m not saying I root for this to happen, but sometimes they’ll fall, and it’s ugly ’cause they’re rolling around like, “I’m in a lot of trouble. Like, I don’t even know how I got here.” But at the end of that, no matter what… And I totally fall for it. I’m like, “that can’t possibly be the same loser “From moments ago. “I mean, that’s a completely different person. “This person has much better posture, for starters.” I really wanted Jenny to come out with me and Andy that night in St. Louis ’cause we were going out to one of these famous Irish pubs where no one can hear anyone speak. And so I thought that might work to my advantage. I don’t know, and, uh… I didn’t have the nerve to ask her myself, and so I convinced Andy to ask her for us. And, uh… Pfft. Which… yeah, I don’t know if that was the best idea ’cause, uh, we’re heading… We’re in the car heading to the pub, and Jenny says, “Oh, I left my I.D. at the hotel.” And I was like, “Oh, we can just swing back and get it.” And she’s like… she’s like, “No, it’ll be fine.” I was like, “No, it won’t be fine ’cause it’s St. Patrick’s day, and there’s bouncers.” And she goes, “No, it’ll be okay.” And I was like, “No, it won’t be okay.” And then we get to the pub, and it was fine. Like, the bouncer just kind of waved her through, which has not been my experience with bouncers. For me, bouncers are like prison guards. And for Jenny, they’re like birthday clowns like, you know, “What can I do to make your day better?”
You know, and that’s… We’re at the pub, and it had taken so much convincing for Andy to get Jenny to come out there. By the time she came out, she thought she was on a date with him. And, yeah, that wasn’t the idea. And so I said… I had to convince him to fall away as the night went on, like the red rockets on the space shuttle. And eventually, she realized she was on a date with me, and she was not happy about that. But, uh… But she warmed to me as the night went on ’cause she was drinking, and then, like… No, by the end of the night, we were laughing and having a good time, and we… I caught a break, which is we shared a ride back to our hotel with one of their friends, and she and I were stuffed in this little back seat together. And it was really quiet, so I could hear her soft voice. And she told me she had just come off a long, difficult breakup, and I told her about my breakup. And for a moment there in the back seat, it felt like we were holding up two halves of a broken paper heart, and… We get back to the hotel, and I offer to walk her to her room, and she says, “Sure.” We get to her door, and I didn’t want this night to end. And so I build up the courage to lean in to kiss her, and she says, “Oh, no, thank you.” Which I thought was polite… But disappointing. I mean, there’s something about a rejected kiss that is the most personal type of rejection because you’re really putting yourself out there. You’re just like, “I think we should connect mouths,” you know, and… The other person’s like, “I do not think we should connect mouths.” And those are… They’re two very different mouth agendas, you know. And then you just feel so stupid. You’re like, “I never should have suggested we connect mouths, you know.” This is a sore subject for me. I have sort of a long history of failed kisses. Like, I… I remember growing up, like, when people started making out. Like, in my time in Massachusetts, it was in seventh grade. I remember… I remember it like it was yesterday ’cause I was shocked. I was like, “People we know are just making out with other people we know?” “But how?” You know. It seemed like an alien ritual where these two aliens just attach orifices all of a sudden. I was like, “I am not doing that.” And collectively, all the girls in my class were like, “That is fine. “You are not on the list. “You’re not exactly a first-round draft pick for our new activity.” I was like, “Perfect.” It seemed so gross to me. And it still does kind of. Like, sometimes you hear these homophobic arguments from these guys who are like, “I don’t like when I see two dudes making out in the street.” And I feel that way about anyone. Like, making out is just sloppy. It’s like watching a dog eat spaghetti. That’s how I make out. Is that right? Does anybody know if that’s right? Okay, good. So… In seventh grade, I was like, “I’m not gonna make out with anybody.” And that was fine for a while, but increasingly, it kind of divided the class into two distinct parts. It was like, the make-out club and the non-make-out club. And these were informal organizations, of course. I mean, I would be sad if that were school-sanctioned, like, “we call this meeting of the non-make-out club to order. “First order of business, Nintendo. “Second order of business, why doesn’t anyone like us? Meeting adjourned.” I don’t know, it was a sad group, and we were losing good guys by the day. I feared… I feared that soon I would be the lone member of the non-make-out club, so I was like, “I got to try to get into the make-out club.” But it was a very intangible goal. I didn’t really talk to a lot of girls, and… There was one girl who sat in front of me in class named Lisa Bazetti who I had a huge crush on, but she was way out of my league. Like, she had many suitors. She had… I don’t… The rest of the show is in old English. Uh… She doth had many suitors! Uh, no, she had many, you know, admirers. And there were three of us, really, and I was in third place in all the trade publications, but I had one advantage over these other guys, which is she had to talk to me on the phone every night about homework, thanks to alphabetical order. Bazetti, Birbiglia. One time I said something on the phone that made her laugh, and I was like, “Oh, this is great. I got to do that more.” And one time we were on the phone, and she was laughing so hard, I remember so well ’cause she goes, “Mike, you got to stop. I’m gonna pee myself.” And I was like, “Wow.” This was the closest I’d ever come to a vagina. So spent the next 15 years trying to get Lisa Bazetti to pee. And that’s how I ended up here. Yeah. That’s how we all ended up here, in a sense. So… uh… So here’s what happened with Lisa. One time I built up the courage to ask her to go to the carnival with me, and she said yes. I couldn’t believe it. Like, all of a sudden I thought, “Well, maybe this will be like “one of those romantic comedy montages. “We’ll go to the carnival, we’ll get stuck “On the top of the Ferris wheel, we’ll make out. “It’ll all take a minute and a half, and it will be set to Phil Collins song.” But I think that when you’re 12 years old, you just don’t understand certain things about your digestive system. You don’t know that you shouldn’t eat popcorn and peanuts and ice cream and cotton candy and then step onto a machine called the scrambler. Cotton candy being the most insane of these items. It’s basically saying, “We’re gonna take sugar, “which everyone knows is bad, but then we’ll dress it up like insulation.” And I’m like, “I’m not sure “what the selling point is there. Is it the sugar or the insulation?” They’re like, “We already sold it.” I’m like, “well done, way to move the product before the information campaign disseminates.” I don’t know if you have the scrambler here in Seattle. I imagine you might. It travels on a truck. It is a very mobile scrambling unit. The premise is very simple. You just sit on a two-person pod with the person you are in love with, and that pod goes in a circle, which is part of a larger circle, which is part of an even grander circle. As I understand it, it was originally designed as a medical device for constipated patients. It was called the “shits of pants-erator,” and it was wildly successful. And then it was co-opted by the carnival workers of America. Cwoa. And they said… They said, “We like it, but we do feel like the name is a little bit of a turnoff.” And then one guy says, “Well, what about the ‘I think I’m gonna die-erator’?” And they’re like, “That’s good, “’cause it gets across the essence of how you feel “when you’re on the machine. “Plus it has the added wordplay with diarrhea, “which is a nice homage “to the original intention of the machine, “but we still feel like the name might be a little bit of a turnoff.” And then one guy goes, “well, what about the scrambler? ‘Cause it scrambles you!” They’re like, “We get it, Frank, but who…” Frank is a maniac. This guy can’t be stopped, but every once in a while, he’s got a good idea. “But who will be in charge of this dangerous piece of equipment?” And this one guy goes, “well, I have a nephew who’s 16 years old “and smokes pot 24 hours a day. I feel like he might be available.” And they’re like, “he sounds amazing. “We don’t even need to interview him. He sounds completely qualified.”
I sit down with Lisa on the scrambler, and I’m feeling good. Like, she’s snuggling up close to me, and I’m thinking… I’m thinking like, “this could be it. “This could be where it’s all gonna happen. This is very special.” And then they put that bar seat belt down. And the bar seat belt is not a reassuring piece of safety equipment. It’s not a Ralph Nader approved item. I don’t think it’s saved lives. I think the only thing it’s ever done is in a scrambler accident, it’s just sort of held someone’s esophagus down to the pavement, making sure that they are dead and that they cannot talk about the scrambler accident. First rule of scrambler accident, don’t talk about scrambler accident. That’s from scrambler club. Well, I knew from the moment they put the bar seat belt down that I was going to throw up for sure. And I even said to the 16-year-old stoner, I was like, “hey, actually…” And then he was gone. Apparently, he doesn’t enjoy the second halves of sentences.
So then I’m scrambling, and… As I am scrambling, I’m thinking, “I need to come up with a plan of some kind. I’m not going down without a fight.” My first plan was very simple. It was just don’t look at Lisa, don’t look at any other people. I was like, “don’t look at Lisa, “don’t look at any other people. “Don’t look at Lisa, “don’t look at any other people. I need a new plan.” And… The new plan was I needed to tell the scrambler operator… That he needed to stop the ride, but… The mathematics of the scrambler are such that the window of opportunity in which one can communicate with the scrambler operator is a very limited window. So I’m like, “I got to tell him he’s got to stop the ride. “I got to tell him he’s got to stop the ride. “I got to tell him he’s got to stop the ride. Please stop the ride!” And I’m back! “I’m not sure he heard me. “I got to say it louder. Please stop the ride! “I’m not sure he’s paying attention. I think he might be smoking pot right now.” The third time I said, “please stop.” And then I started throwing up, and it was not unlike an oscillating lawn sprinkler, just… Popcorn, peanuts… Insulation. Really, insulating the pavement with my homemade carnival salsa. I did not look at Lisa. But I’m pretty sure she was staring at me because I was a spectacle at that point. I was spectacular. And we did not make out. I did not lose my mouth virginity that evening. Two years later, it gets worse. Um… I’m at the St. John’s high school, what they call a cattle call dance. This is an all boys catholic school I attended where they would invite the girls from all over the state to our sweaty St. John’s gymnasium like cattle, which is a friendly way to describe women, you know. So… Cattle shows up at 8:00. We’ll make out with the cattle. Cattle goes home at 10:00. Then we go out for burgers. Completely separate from the cattle analogy. It was a horrible affair. It was just like this room chock-full of sweat and hormones and drakkar noir and led zeppelin and making out. At this point, I was, indeed, the lone member of the non-make-out club, but it was actually worse than that ’cause I had to lie to my friends and tell them I had had my first kiss ’cause it was, like, this really tough, all boys school. And so when they would ask, like, “oh, have you had your first kiss?” I’d be like, “yeah, like, all the time. Like, every… every week.” I always feared at some point there’d be a follow-up question like, “oh, yeah? What’s it like?” And I’d be like, “yeah, you know, it’s just like licking an ice cream cone.” And they’d be like, “no, it’s not. It’s like sucking on a rocket pop.” And I’d be like, “ah, wrong frozen dessert analogy.” I’m at the dance, and I’m flanked by my friend Sam Ricciardi. And we’re introduced by our friend Tom to these girls from his town. They were the last two cows at the dance. They were like, “moo!” And we were like, “moo!” And then Sam says one of these phrases I think we’ve all heard but is very uncomfortable to repeat. He says, “you get that one.” Which I know it’s the worst turn of phrase, but I’m comfortable saying it ’cause I know I’ve been on the negative end of that conversation where a girl says of me, “you get that one.” And then her friend goes like, “oof.” You know, or even worse… or even worse, like, “you owe me,” which really hurts thinking of someone incurring debt based on my appearance. I would hate to hurt someone’s credit score, you know. So he goes… he goes, “you get that one.” And then I’m just fast dancing with this girl, Sandra, to young mc’s bust a move. And I’m not great at fast dancing, but they had the strobe light going, so it’s only catching me one out of every five… Hey! So she’s losing interest, but at 1/5 the speed. And then I’m saved by a slow song, Stairway to Heaven, which is a classic make-out anthem. Led Zeppelin, eight minutes long. What’s great about slow dancing is you can’t really mess it up ’cause it’s just sort of a slow-motion hug. Like, the only way you could mess it up is if you just started fast dancing in the middle of it. She’d be like, “what are you doing?” And I’d be like, “I don’t pick up on social cues,” you know. But it’s such a long song, you know, Stairway, so I’m just trying not to fidget. I’m sort of a fidgety person. I feared if I fidgeted too much, I might initiate the head tilt too early. I didn’t know anything about making out, but I’d seen people do it. I could see there’s, like, a head tilt. I had heard there were tongues involved. And I could see that there was, like, some kind of space in between the two mouths. To me that was the most mysterious part of the whole thing. What is happening in that space? There is no… You know, there’s no video documentation of that area. It’s like the giant squid of making out. No one has seen it alive. They’ve only seen it washed up on the shore… Which is more specific to the squid side of that analogy, but… So I’m trying not to fidget. Then with 1 1/2 minutes left in stairway to heaven, the song hits that crescendo… All around me, kids start to make the tilt. Just a harvest of teenagers making out all around me. And I was like, “oh, no. I don’t want to be alone anymore.” And I make the slightest tilt. And then Sandra comes in strong, and then it’s an all-out mouth war. And she had artillery ’cause she had braces. It was like a dog eating spaghetti and the fork. As this oral atrocity is taking place, all I can think is, “I’m not alone anymore! I’m not in the non-make-out club!” And all I wanted to do was tell my friends, but I couldn’t because up until that point, I’d lied and said that I’d had my first kiss. I walked off the dance floor, Sam was like, “how’d it go, dude?” I had to be like, “same as always. Pretty smooth.” As the week wore on, I started to convince myself, “well, maybe it did go well, “and I should call Sandra, and this could bud into a relationship of some kind,” but… I got her number from Tom, and those conversations ended up being very brief, you know. We didn’t have a lot to talk about. I remember just being like, “hey, you like full house? “Me neither. Cool. All right. Later.” You know what I mean? At certain points, I remember getting this vibe from her, kind of like, “why are you calling me?” And I remember thinking, “oh, I’m probably reading into that one too much,” and… And then she stopped calling me back. And I was like, “oh, yeah, I read into that one perfectly.” But I just felt so dumb about the whole thing, and the worst part is I couldn’t even tell my friends, until one day I was… I was standing by my locker with my friend Tom, and so I said to him, I was like, “hey, what’s going on with Sandra? Like, she hasn’t called me back.” And Tom has this knowing grin on his face. I was like, “what?” Tom was like, “nothing.” And I was like, “what?” Tom was like, “nothing.” And I was like, “what?” Tom’s like, “oh.” “I talked to Sandra, and she said “you’re the worst kisser she’s ever kissed.” And it was so devastating ’cause not only was it probably true, but I couldn’t explain to my friends why it was true. I couldn’t say, “that makes sense. I’ve never done that before.” So instead I had to play it off. I had to be like, “yeah, that sounds about right. “I’m a terrible kisser. That’s kind of my thing.” So I lean in to kiss Jenny, and she says, “oh, no, thank you.” She agrees to go out with me in New York. We were both living in New York, and she gave me her number, and I typed it in my phone, and from that point on, she would be “Jen, Irish pub, nice.” A few weeks later, I took her out to a restaurant I couldn’t afford to show her how much money I could put on my credit card. We’re out to dinner, and she says to me, she goes, “everyone hates me at work,” and I said, “why would they hate you? I love you.” She goes, “you love me?” I go, “I mean, you seem cool.” I pulled it back. I didn’t want to show all my cards. Just about nine of them. One of the other things that she said of note on this date is she said, “you know, sometimes I’ll date two people at once, and that way I’m never let down by either person.” I said, “that seems like a really smart plan. Like, I’d like to do that as well.” And she said, “I’m still kind of seeing my ex-boyfriend, John, and you can see other people too, but you have to tell me if you’re seeing them.” And I was like, “all right, sounds like a plan. “Got it. Break! I got to go find some more people, you know.” And so a few nights later, I’m in another city, and I do a show, and after the show, I went out to a bar, and I ended up making out with this random girl. Then a few nights later, I’m out to dinner with Jenny, and she says, “how was your trip?” And I said, “it was great. I did some shows, “and then one night I ended up making out with this random girl.” And that didn’t go over very well in the conversation. I could sense that something was wrong. And I was like, “but I’m right about that, right? Like, I’m supposed to tell you if that happens, right?” And she says, “yeah, but it doesn’t mean “that I won’t lose interest in you.” And I said, “that’s a whole new clause! “That’s a twist! What is this, the romantic comedy version of the usual suspects?” I said, “are you still seeing John?” And she said, “sometimes.” I said, “well, don’t you see the contradiction in that?” And she says, “yes.” And it gets very quiet… Because we were falling in love. Three weeks into my relationship with Jenny, I built up the courage to ask her to go on a trip to Bermuda. I wanted to show her how much more money I could put on my credit card. Since I didn’t have a lot left, we went to Bermuda ’cause it was the off season. You can get these great deals online. Because as it turns out, when it’s winter in New York, it is also winter… In Bermuda, and, uh… Jenny and I meet up at the airport, and she’s late, which is a big pet peeve of mine. I fancy myself as a professional traveler. I’m always two hours early, I have my pocket for my ticket and my passport, and I have laceless moccasins. I never tell jokes about bombs. And… and Jenny’s late. And then we get to security, and I’m not making this up, she doesn’t have a license or a passport. And I said, “what do you mean?” I go, “how do you travel?” And she goes, “well, “usually, they let me on the plane with my credit card and my work I.D.” I don’t like to dwell on the differences between men and women, but I just can’t imagine a scenario where a man would go to the airport with no license and no passport, and they would let him on the plane. But women get a pass on things like this that I find completely bewildering. I mean, if I were in charge of Al-Qaeda, for example, what… what I would do is I would recruit attractive women because they’re just not stopped under any circumstances. Although it would be difficult to recruit them because all they have to offer are the 72 virgins and, you know, the women wouldn’t want that, unless they’re lesbians, although there’s an idea, you know. Al-Qaeda… Al-Qaeda could recruit hot lesbians, although… then they’d have to guarantee that the 72 virgins are also lesbians. I mean, what are the odds, you know? All 72 virgins are also lesbians, unless you think of sexuality as, like, a blank slate concept where the first person you have sex with dictates your sexual identity. Like the 72 virgins are like, “I didn’t even know I was a lesbian “until I had sex with that hot lesbian terrorist. “And now that’s all I’m into. “I used to be into these Afghani guys who are so crazy, “they’d die in a fiery plane crash to have sex with me “and 71 of my friends. But now I don’t see Khalid in the same way anymore.” The point is, we went to Bermuda, and we’re on the flight… On the flight, and the flight attendant comes over, and she puts champagne glasses down in front of us. And she says, “congratulations on your honeymoon.” And we said, “oh, no, thanks. We’re not on our honeymoon.” And she walks away, and Jenny says, “that’s so funny. I don’t think I’ll ever go on a honeymoon.” And I said, “oh, really?” And she goes, “yeah. I don’t think I’d ever want to get married in my life.” And I said, “oh, really?” I go, “me too.” I said, “is that based on a principle, “or did you have a bad relationship? Like, what was your first boyfriend like?” And… She told me about her first boyfriend Brian. It was… they were at the same bus stop when they were 16, and they would make out on the bus, and they were together for six years. And they… you know, their relationship got deeper, and they would talk about how they were gonna get married and spend the rest of their lives together. And I said, “then what?” And she said, “he died. He had leukemia.” And I said, “well, do you ever talk about this with anyone?” And she says, “no, I don’t really like to talk about it.” But these were the kinds of conversations we started having on this trip where Jenny was opening up to me, and I was opening up to her. And every night we’d be up till 2:00 or 3:00 in the morning, and we were so happy, we… At one point, I was like, “well, we should do this again. “We should go on another trip. And you could get a license or a passport.” Jenny said, “that sounds great, “but I don’t think I’d get a license or a passport ’cause they don’t make me get one.” And I was like, “yeah, but it’s the law.” You know. Jenny says, “yeah, I don’t think I’ll get one “’cause they don’t make me get one, you know. That’s how I feel.” That’s how Jenny argues things. Sometimes she’ll just say, “that’s how I feel.” And I’ll say, “that’s not an argument.” “Like, we’re not even in an argument right now because you don’t have an argument.” And she’ll say, “I just won that argument.” And I’ll say, “that’s not even possible based on the definition of what an argument is.” And she’ll say, “I just won that argument,” again. “That’s how I feel.” You could see how this could be a little bit maddening, you know, uh… On our final day on the trip, we got into an argument about essentially nothing. She noticed there was a basketball court at our hotel, and she said, “we should play.” And I was like, “yeah, but not, like, a game.” And she said, “why?” And I said, “well, ’cause I’d win.” And she said, “no, I think I would win.” I go, “no. I know that I’d win, “and I know that what I’m supposed to say is that… “The guy says, ‘I’ll win,’ the girl says, ‘I’ll win,’ “and the guy lets her win, and then she likes him more. But I just don’t have that in me.” And Jenny goes, “you don’t have to let me win. Let’s go out and play.” And so we went out and played basketball, and I just kicked her ass. I mean, it was just like… It was just like… 10 to 1, you know, 11 to 1. I mean, I was having a good day, but still, I was just destroying her. And at one point, she literally said, “I’ve never met someone who’s so obsessed with the score.” And I said, “the score is what makes it a game!” So we’re arguing this over lunch, and then, again, it comes up at dinner, and then we’re still arguing about it at 2:00 or 3:00 in the morning about essentially nothing. And she said, “I don’t understand why you’re so obsessed with being right.” I go, “I’m not obsessed with it. I just am.” I said, “why do you think you’re right?” And she says, “that’s how I feel.” I said, “if you think I’m so wrong about everything, why are you even with me?” And Jenny says, “you can’t choose who you love.” Which is true, but it doesn’t mean it’s good. I remember the first time I fell in love, I was in high school, and it was that first time where you fall in love, and you’re just like, “this is it. I found her. I’m 17 years old, and I’m done, you know.” And… Her name was Amanda, and she was, like, adorable and funny. And what was really exciting for me was that she was, like, a delinquent. Like, I was like this play-by-the-rules school citizen, and she had been expelled from her previous school for dealing acid, which I thought was a really strong quality. Like, at one point, she was like, “it was totally messed up because it wasn’t even me. It was this other girl, and I was framed.” And I was just like, “awesome.” Like no one would ever frame me for anything. I just… I thought it was like an opposites attract situation. She wanted to know what it was like to hang out with someone in student government who writes for the newspaper. And I wanted to know what it was like to be cool. At one point, I was like, “do you want to write an article for the newspaper?” She goes, “I don’t want to write an article. I want to do things people write articles about.” And I was like, “good answer.”
I find that when you fall in love, you tend to overlook certain red flags. One of them was that she would say really mean stuff to me, but then she would pull it back. She’d be like, “no one likes you at all. Only kidding.” Or, like, “you’re like a nerd, but you’re not even smart. Just joking.” Can’t choose who you love.
Second red flag with Amanda was that she was a liar. And I don’t… I don’t mean that in an offensive way. Like, lying was kind of like a… It’s like a sport at the school I was at. I transferred from the all boys school to this co-ed school. There was this one guy in my class named Keith Robbins who was a legendary liar. You’d know when he was lying ’cause he would lick his finger like a bookie, and he would dart his eyes from side to side. And he’d go, “yeah, yeah, nice. Nice, you know.” And he wasn’t even handling money. Like, I don’t even know what this is about. And then he would lie about things that were sort of insignificant. He’d be like, “yeah, my uncle’s Tony Robbins, “motivational speaker. Yeah, nice, you know.” And… We found out that that wasn’t even true. But even if that were true, that wouldn’t be impressive to a bunch of high school students. But I think that’s the jedi level of lying, is you lie about little stuff, and no one notices when you’re lying about big stuff. It’s like banking.
The final red flag with Amanda was that she told me not to tell anyone that she was my girlfriend. I know. I’m in the future also. I think we can all see now ’cause we’re so smart, and Mike’s so dumb, and, uh… You know, I can also see, in retrospect, that’s a much bigger red flag than I perceived it to be at the time, but I was so excited she was even with me at all. And she said she had another boyfriend at home, but they were in the process of breaking up, but it was a bad time ’cause his parents were sick. And so I tried to be understanding of that. You know, I went along with it for a few months until she invited me to meet her parents. And I thought, “well, this is the affirmation that I need. I’m gonna be crowned as the main boyfriend.” And I drive my mom’s station wagon to Amanda’s parents’ house, and I walk in the front door, and there’s Amanda, and there’s her parents, and it’s going well. And a few hours go by, and this other guy comes over to the house, and his name is Scott. I’m assuming he’s, like, a family friend or a relative. And slowly I’m noticing similarities between Scott and things that Amanda has said about her other boyfriend. They’re both in their first year in college, and they’re competitive wrestlers, and… It’s dawning on me that I’m hanging out with my girlfriend’s boyfriend. And it’s going pretty well. I mean, he… He seemed like a nice guy. I could totally see what she saw in him. There was some consolation that when he would go in the other room to the kitchen or the bathroom, she would hold on to my hand, and she would say, “I wish it were just you and me here.” And I remember thinking, “you could make that happen.” The way she said it was as though she weren’t involved in the decision process, like, “I’d love to, but the boys in corporate…”
Well, the day took an even stranger turn when Scott suggested that we go hang out at his house. And I met his parents. It is indescribable meeting your girlfriend’s boyfriend’s parents for the first time. Part of you is angry for obvious reasons, but then part of you still wants to make a good impression. You know, you’re like… “Maybe if this goes well, she’ll see that I’m good with adults in general!” As a side note, his parents seemed in perfect health. At one point, his dad even said to me, “how do you know Amanda?” And I said, “we’re just friends from school.” And I was so ashamed, and I felt so dumb. And I drove home, and I remember thinking, “I am never gonna let this happen to me again.” So… Ten months into my relationship with Jenny, she invites me to meet her parents. And this was a tricky time. At this point, our relationship was intense, but casual, which is a dangerous relationship cocktail, and it was a hard thing to organize ’cause I was away probably five days out of the week. And so we found a Sunday where I was coming back from a five-day stint in Texas, which was awful ’cause it was… In Texas. And I… that’s… That’s not to say I dislike Texas entirely. It’s such a large thing to dislike. And, uh… But that week it felt like Texas just disliked me, and I just kind of disliked Texas back to the point where I developed a small drinking problem, which is… which is very popular in Texas. I was performing at a comedy club. Now, comedy… I love comedy clubs ’cause they’re sort of a high-low entertainment proposition. Like, in some ways, though, they’re the last bastions of free speech and the art of spoken word, and then some of them sell dildo straws, you know. Like, there’s 15 bachelorette parties coming through on the weekends, and they’re handing out gummy penises or whatever. That’s… that’s actually a thing. I didn’t even realize that… I didn’t realize that that was part of the female fantasy of the penis was… was the gummy quality of the penis. I feel like if I were in charge of the candification of the penis, it would be hard candy. And then if… And then, if you suck it down to the gummy part, then you just sort of put that off to the side. But I… but that’s… that’s not my job. I’m… you know, I leave that to the experts, but I just… I just do the comedy part. But I was performing at this club all week, and after the late show Saturday night, I was approached by this bachelorette party that had one of these sort of novelty sexual checklist things. And… I’d been drinking all week, and, uh, I always try to be a team player, you know. So I was like, “whatever I can do to help. I don’t see how this could end badly.” And, uh… The next morning, I wake up in the my hotel room, and I’m hung over, and I’m groggy. And I roll out of bed, and I run to the airport to catch my flight. I’m still two hours early, and… I land in New York, and I get a cab to Jenny’s parents’ house. And I walk in the front door, and there’s Jenny, and there’s her parents. And there’s her other sort of ex-boyfriend, John. And he wasn’t front and center. Like, he was just kind of around, like, he was in the pool, like, wading and doing laps, like, that kind of thing. But I pulled Jenny aside, I was like, “well, what’s John doing here?” And she says, “well, he and I aren’t still together, “but when we were together, “he became friends with my stepdad, “and he’s been staying here at their house the last couple weeks.” And I said, “you know, that’s not good. I feel like that gives him the edge.” Jenny’s staring at me. And I said, “what?” She says, “you have a hickey on your neck.” And I said, “I don’t think that’s true.” And then I glance at the mirror next to me and realize that, in fact, I do have a hickey on my neck. And I say, “I’m really sorry.” And she says, “where is that from?” And I said, “there was this bachelorette party, and I was drunk.” That sentence never comes out right. I mean, there’s no way to deliver that line in a way that makes you seem even okay, and… We start arguing, and the argument follows us all the way back to the street in front of my apartment. I didn’t have a leg to stand on. I was like, “well, what about John? What was he doing there?” She said, “you have a hickey on your neck.” I said, “yeah, but at least I told you the truth.” And she said, “eventually.” And I said, “eventually is better than never!” And then she kneed me in the balls. I don’t know if you’ve ever experienced this before. I’m sure half of you have not. Uh… It’s like being electrocuted, except you don’t get to die. It’s like you want to die, but you can’t. And there’s a person in your face saying, “you deserve this,” which they wouldn’t even do in electrocutions. I think they would deem that as inhumane.  Even in Texas.
Jenny says, “I think that we should just break up. “You know, it’s not just this. “I mean, you’re away a lot of the time. “And even when you’re here, you work at night, “and I work in the day. I just don’t think it’s gonna work out.” And I said, “okay.”  And we were apart for about six months, and I missed her so much, but I kept resisting calling her ’cause I wanted to give her space. And every once in a while I’d get a glimmer of hope in the form of a text message from “Jen, Irish pub, nice.” And it would just say, “hi.” And I’d write back, “hi.” It was the smallest form of communication two people could have with one another, but I think, in some ways, kept us together. And finally, on new year’s, I caved in, and I called her, I said, “hey, I really miss you, and I want to see you.” And we got together for coffee. And we hit it off just like we used to, and we decided we would get back together. We had a great period there, you know. I took her to get a license and a passport. First, we went for her social security card, and then we took that to the D.M.V. And then we mailed all of that to the government for a passport. It was like the triple crown of identifications. Jenny was wildly identifiable. One night, she was heading back from my apartment to hers, and she stops. And I said, “what?” And she says, “I think that we should live together.” And I said, “no, I really don’t think that’s a good idea. “You know, I’ve just decided, you know, as a principle, “I’m not gonna get married or live with someone. It’s not personal.” And she said, “well, unless we live together, “I just don’t think it’s gonna work out “’cause we just don’t see each other enough, “and I don’t think that we stand a chance. That’s how I feel.” So we moved in together. And one day, Jenny gets an invitation to the wedding of one of her friends, and she invites me to come along. And I said, “oh, no, thanks.” That doesn’t go over so well. She says, “why?” And I said, “well, as you know, “I don’t believe in marriage, and so I don’t buy into the flamboyant pageantry that goes into celebrating it.” She said, “well, what do you believe in?” And I said, “I don’t know.” She said, “well, if you don’t believe in anything, how can you not believe in marriage?” And I said, “well, first of all, “you know, it just doesn’t seem necessary. “I mean, is it… you know, “marriage is an archaic institution “invented in the middle ages based on exchanging property. “I don’t want to be a part of that. “Second of all, I don’t even think we have “a common cultural understanding of what marriage even is. “I mean, one of me and Andy’s friends “was about to get engaged, and we were skeptical, “and we said, ‘are you sure this is the person “you want to be with for the rest of your life?’ “and he goes, ‘yeah, I think so.’ “and we said, ‘well, what if she gets in a car accident, “and she’s disfigured? Would you stay with her then?’ “and he said, ‘maybe’! “That is not an acceptable answer! “Third of all, if I’m so in love, “why does it need to be written into a government contract? “And I’m not one of these like, “‘I don’t want government up in my business’ kind of people! “I think the government does a nice job “delivering the mail and suggesting I don’t eat poison, “but I just don’t understand why they need to be involved “in my personal relationships. “Then finally, if marriage is religious, “shouldn’t I believe in the religion? “I’ve been to more weddings of my friends “where the people on the altar don’t believe “in the religion of the church they’ve invited us to! “Some of them even go to classes with the priest “in advance, to more elaborately lie “about believing in a religion they don’t believe in “just to have a wedding in a fancy building! “That is insane! That’s how I feel!” So I explain this to Jenny. And Jenny says, “well, if you ever did want to get married, I would marry you.” And I said, “why? Aren’t you listening to any of this?” And Jenny says, “that’s how I feel.” At this point, it was 5:00 in the morning, we’d been arguing all night, and we hadn’t slept. I had to catch a flight at 6:20 A.M. Out of Newark airport to Los Angeles for a show I was doing that night. At this point, I’m overtired, and I’m angry, and I’m late. I’m stuffing my things in my roller suitcase. And I walk out of our apartment. It’s 5:00 A.M., that part of the morning before the earth even exists, before they program The Matrix or whatever. You walk out of your apartment, part of the road isn’t even there. There’s a guy with a laptop going, “we need a road, stat! What’s the code for building, tank?” You know, and I get to the airport. The news hasn’t even started yet. It’s just an anchor looking around like, “what are you up to?” And I get to the kiosk, and I print up my ticket, and I bring it to the security lady, and she looks at me, and she goes, “well, that ain’t your gate.” Like, I guess they changed the gate, but the way she said it was as though I had participated in the decision of changing it. I was like, “I was not involved in this process. I wasn’t even C.C.’d.” Like, as though I had gone to the kiosk and been like, “B22. Like hell I’m flying out of B22.” And then I photoshopped my own ticket, printed it out, and been like, “this is where I’m going.” You know, I’m not that aggressive as a traveler, so I was like, “well, where is this gate?” She goes, “it’s in another terminal. You got to take a tram.” She points to the tram, and I start walking my roller suitcase, and I hear her say, “and you better run.” Like, I guess I was late at that point. So I started running. And the roller suitcase does not enjoy running. The roller suitcase was like, “I don’t want to run. I have wheels.” And I was like, “I don’t want to run either, but this is what we have to do. “I tell you what, when we get to the hotel, I’ll walk you in circles for a few hours.” Then I… I get to the tram, and it has that feature where it says how many minutes before the next tram arrives. And it says zero minutes. I was like, “perfect. That’s exactly how long I want to wait.” But the tram’s riding away. I was like, “that’s -1 minute!” Then it says ten minutes, and I’m experiencing that psychological downward spiral like, “oh, great, I’m gonna miss my flight, “and then I’m gonna miss every flight from now on, “and I’m gonna miss my family reunion. “And then I’m not gonna have a family, and then I’m gonna be a crack whore.” And it’s like, all of a sudden, I’m a crack whore just because I miss this one flight. I can feel the cancer forming in my body in real time and…
I get on the next tram ten minutes later, and I run to the gate, and I’m sweaty, and I’m out of breath, but I’m on time. And I’m so relieved that I sit down in a chair at the gate, and I fall asleep. And I wake up to the sound of the door shutting. I jump up, and the door is closed, and I am on the sad side of the door. The happy side has an airplane and a pilot. The sad side is me and the Cinnabon lady. Normally, I’d be very excited if it were just me and the Cinnabon lady. I’m a big fan of pastries the size of a baby that have enough calories for a year. I think that’s an effective use of time. But in this instance, I needed someone who could communicate with the people on the plane. And the Cinnabon lady is not very well connected in the airline community. I was like, “do you know these people?” She was like, “all I know is the white stuff goes on the cinnamon bun.” I ran up to the giant glass window. I started pounding on the window like in a romantic comedy. I was like, “Drew Barrymore’s character, come back!” She didn’t come back, and I missed my flight. I got on the next one they could get me on. There was a stopover in Texas. You know how I feel about Texas. And, uh, I get to Los Angeles late that night, and I’d missed my show. I’d never missed one of my shows before, and I’m so angry. And Jenny’s calling me, but I’m not picking up the phone ’cause I’m blaming this entire day on her. I get back to my friend Andy’s house, and I said, “Andy, this relationship is messing up my entire life!” And Andy goes, “you’re right.” I go, “I know! I’m right!” He goes, “yeah, you’re right.” I go, “I know, I’m right! I got to tell her about this in the morning!” I drive out of Andy’s small road, and I’m t-boned. That’s the culinary way of describing it. In 1 1/2 seconds, I’m spun around, and I think I’m dead. No, wait, I’m paralyzed. And then I hear nothing. Then I hear the other car skid out and drive away. 20 minutes later I’m sitting on a curb. At this point, the police have arri… have arrived, as well as my friend, Andy, and that’s when I start crying. You know how when you drop a baby on the ground, it doesn’t… Doesn’t start crying right away because it doesn’t understand the concept of dropping a baby on the ground until it sees your face? And then it’s like, “oh, I guess I should be doing something “that matches that. Waah!” I’m crying because I’m looking at my totaled car in front of me and realizing that, in that moment, I might have ceased to exist. Like I said earlier, I don’t really believe in anything, so in my mind, that would have been the end of all things I’d experienced in my life. Every kiss or failed kiss or scrambler ride would come to a conclusion, and… The officer comes over, and he says, “what happened?” And I said, “I got hit by this car, “and then I heard nothing, and then I heard the other car skid out and drive away.” The officer points over to the light. The other car has made a right turn at the light and veered into this very skinny tree. I can’t help but think, “that’s karma. That’s a hit and run and hit.” And then the officer puts this form in my face, and he goes, “sign this.” And I said, “well, what does it mean?” And he goes, “it means you’re okay and that we can leave.” I was really shaken up. I was like, “I don’t know if I’m okay.” And he goes, “just sign it,” which is a very unattractive quality. When someone just repeats a command that you’ve just said no to, and it’s unattractive, but very effective, you know. I signed it. Andy takes me to the hospital just as a precaution, but we have to wait two hours ’cause the other driver had beat us there, and… Eventually, we’re with the doctor, and Andy says to him, he goes, “well, was the other guy drunk?” And the doctor says, “well, I can’t answer that.” And Andy says, “was he?” He uses the technique we had learned earlier, and it works, you know. The doctor says, “well, he’s heading to jail now.” And Andy and I flash each other a look like the hardy boys, like, “case closed.” A few hours later, we’re back at Andy’s house, it’s probably around 3:30 in the morning, and I have one of these epiphanies people sometimes have when they have near-death experiences. I say, “I need to call Jenny and tell her that we need to get married.” And Andy says, “Mike… Sleep on it.” And I said, “no, no, no, this makes perfect sense.” And I pick up my phone, and I dial her number. And he puts his hand over the phone, and he says, “Mike… Sleep on it.” He saves me. The next morning, I fly back to New York, and a few weeks later, I get a call from my rental car agency explaining that the accident report had come back on the accident that I just described. And it had found me at fault and that I owed… And I’m not making this up… $12,000 for the repairs on the other driver’s Mercedes S.U.V. And I was like, “well, this can’t be happening.” I explained to the woman, “I think it’s a misunderstanding. “The other guy was clearly drunk. It was definitely not my fault.” And she said, “I’m really sorry, but unless they change the accident report, you owe this money.” So I requested the accident report, and I’m gonna show you the actual accident report tonight. I don’t know if you’ve ever seen one of these things before… But it’s a little bit like homework for cops. And officer timson not so good with the homework. He consistently mixes up passenger one and passenger two, vehicle one and vehicle two. At one point, so badly that he says P-1… that’s me… started to go, but all of a sudden V-1… That’s me also… Came at a high rate of speed, crashing into him. Now, I’m pretty self-destructive as a person, but I would never crash into my own car with my own car, nor would I understand how you could do that. This part is even crazier. The other driver’s statement at the scene of the accident was, “I was on Venice going… uh, I’m not too sure. “I was going away from the beach. “I was driving. “I don’t know what happened. “Did I hurt anyone? “I don’t know where I was going, “but I came from home. I had a sip of beer.” Which is really everyone’s favorite quantity of beer. Just the one sip, right? That’s what they serve these days at the home/beach/pub.
So all of it’s mine. The officer makes one key mistake. He checks the box that finds me at fault. So I’m like, “I need to get officer Timson on the phone, so we can clear up this misunderstanding.” The problem is he keeps ducking my calls, and I know ’cause I’m calling two or three times a day, leaving messages, calling departments next to his department, so he knows I’m trying to reach him. And finally, after a month of this, I get him on the phone, and I’m so relieved. And I explain this misunderstanding. And he listens to me, and he says, “do the right thing, and pay for the guy’s car.” I know, and, I mean, that’s what I said. I go, “aren’t you listening to any of this?” I go, “and this guy was clearly drunk. “I mean, he nearly killed me. “Inches from where he hit, “and I would be dead right now. “And he wants me to pay for his car? “Don’t you see how crazy that is, just as one human being to another?” And he says, “do the right thing, and pay for the guy’s car.” And he hangs up the phone. And at this point, this stops being about money, and it’s just about stopping a man who has no regard for people or the law. This is Chinatown! So I started printing up Google maps of the scene of the accident and California state driving law. I’m on the phone with lawyers and private investigators. There’s only one lawyer who would consider the case. And he was an accident lawyer, and he said, “did you have any loss of income from the accident?” And I said, “no,” and he says, “did you have any loss of income from the accident?” And I said, “no. This isn’t about money.” And he doesn’t take the case, and this is when I start going completely mad.
I’m up to about 4:00 or 5:00 A.M. every night just surfing the web. I get a subscription to a site called netdetective.com, which is a great site for vigilantes who have $29.95. So now I know this guy’s name, I know where he lives, I know what he does for a living. And in my mind, it becomes like a trailer for a revenge thriller. Like, “Jim Bosworth thought he was gonna get away with this, “but Jim Bosworth had another thing coming: Mike Birbiglia.” I was like, “I’m gonna track down Jim Bosworth. “I’m gonna sue Jim Bosworth, and I’m gonna sue the entire Los Angeles police department!” At this point, people stopped talking to me entirely. My friends would call me like, “hey, what’s going on?” I’d be like, “I’ll tell you what’s going on!” I’d tell them this whole story. And they’d be like, “you should get a lawyer.” I’d be like, “this is way past lawyers! A lawyer wouldn’t even touch this!” ‘Cause he wouldn’t.
The only person who would talk to me at this point was Jenny. One night, we were out to dinner at a restaurant, and she’s talking to me, but I’m not listening ’cause I’m writing down ideas I have for the case on my napkin. I’ve drawn out a diagram of the intersection, and the angles the cars are coming from and going to and the lanes that we were in, the laws the other driver broke, and the phone numbers I’m gonna call that week. And I’m so angry, I’m writing over my own handwriting to the point where I’m ripping through the napkin. And Jenny looks at me, and she says, “what are you doing?” And I said, “well, this is my case.” And she says, “well, why don’t you work on that in the morning?” And I said, “well, which part of this napkin don’t you understand?” Jenny says, “Mike… “You’re right, “but it’s only hurting you, “and I’m just so glad that you’re alive, and I think that we should focus on that.” She only has to say it once, and I give up the case, and I pay for this guy’s car. July 7, 2007, Jenny and I went to city hall and got married. I still didn’t believe in the idea of marriage, and I still don’t. But I believe in her, and I’ve given up on the idea of being right. Thank you guys very much. Thank you. Thank you guys so much! Thanks for coming here tonight and joining me."
Ricky Gervais,"Hello. Hello! How you doing? Great. Thank you. Wow. Calm down. Shut the fuck up. Thank you. What a lovely welcome. I’m gonna try my hardest tonight. You’re thinking, “Relax, we’ve had our money’s worth just seeing you.” What? You’re a legend. Shut up! What is he? I’m not a god. I’m just an ordinary guy, you know, going round talking to people sort… sort of like Jesus… in a way… but better. Well, I’ve actually turned up. So… Thank you and welcome to my new show, Humanity. I don’t know why I called it that. I’m not a big fan. I prefer dogs… obviously. Dogs are better people than people, aren’t they? They’re amazing, dogs. They’re our best friends. They guard us, they guide us. There’s medical detection dogs that can smell if you’ve got… AIDS. I’m not a doctor… but their noses are a thousand times more sensitive than ours, so they go, “Cor, you’re well HIV! Fuck!” You know? And you go, “You can smell AIDS on someone?” Yeah. “Why didn’t you smell it on the bloke I brought home last night, you fucking idiot?” They did the first three billion years by themselves, evolution and all that. Then we got involved and did some selective breeding. Getting them how we wanted, to do jobs for us. Bit stronger, faster, whatever. They’re great at the jobs they’re bred to do. They love the job they’re bred to do. They’re genetically hardwired to love that behavior. Although, the Rhodesian Ridgeback was bred to hunt lions. I can’t help but think it was a shock to it when it found out. So we’ve got all the pedigrees for miles around. A big passing-out parade. There’s a bloke with a white coat and a clipboard. He goes, “Right, dogs!” They go, “What?” “Who wants to know what job they got?” “We all do. We all do.” “Okay, Labradors.” “Yeah?” “Do you like carefully bringing back dead ducks?” “Yeah?” “That’s your job.” “Amazing. That is amazing. That is my favorite job. That is my favorite job.” “Jack Russells?” -“Yeah?” -“You like shooting down rabbit holes?” -“Yeah!” -“That’s your job.” “Fuckin’ hell. Best day ever! Best day ever!” -“Miniature poodles?” -“Yeah?” “Do you like being carried around by elderly homosexuals?” -“Yeah.” -“That’s your job.” That’s your job. “Ridgebacks?” “Yo!” “You’re hunting lions.” “What?” “You’re hunting lions.” “Fuck off!” -“Yeah, you are.” -“No, we’re not. Look, lions? We’ll get fucking mashed! Why can’t the Rottweilers hunt lions?” “They’re shaking babies.” Good boy! Good boy! You shake that baby if you want. Good boy! Cheers. This is my first new stand-up for seven years, if you don’t count the Golden Globes. Which you shouldn’t. The Golden Globes. Very different. God, a different vibe. Two hundred million people watching. And it’s live. Big thrill. But with that many people watching, there’s a bit of stick. Everyone’s different, everyone’s a blogger. Everyone goes, “I was offended.” -“Why?” -“He said an horrible thing.” “He said loads of horrible things.” “Yeah, but that was a thing that I care about.” That’s the thing about offense, it’s about personal feelings. I don’t care about the backlash. “Comedian in hot water.” You know? My girlfriend, Jane, she worries, and she reads things. “What have you said?” “Don’t worry. They won’t come to the house. Fuck ’em.” So I wind her up. I pretend I’m gonna say much worse things than I ever would. I have to make up worse jokes than I actually… Just to scare my girlfriend. When I do the Golden Globes, we go out about a week before. It’s in LA. We fly out. I’m writing jokes as the ceremony approaches. They release more presenters. I take my pick. “I got a good intro for them. Yeah. Mel Gibson? I’ll introduce him, yes.” About three days before this last one, just to wind Jane up, I said, “I got a good intro.” She went, “What?” I said, “Bill Cosby would make our next presenter sleep on the couch. Please welcome Helen Mirren!” I didn’t do it. She said, “You won’t do that?” I said, “No.” Next day, I got her again. I said, “Is this too much?” I said, “Not even Bill Cosby carries enough tranquilizer to bring down this next magnificent beast. Please welcome Melissa McCarthy!” I didn’t do it! I would never… I’d never… tell a joke like that. It’s horrible. I was just doing it to annoy Jane. I’d never even… think… of that, so don’t… Even on the day, on the way to the red carpet, in the limo, I said, “I’ll start with a funny one-liner. An old-fashioned joke.” She went, “What?” I said, “What did the deaf, dumb and blind orphan get for Christmas?” Jane went, “I don’t know.” I said, “Cancer.” I didn’t do it, so… you’re getting offended at a joke that doesn’t exist, so… I’d never say that in public, so… To anyone who mattered, anyway. So, don’t… I didn’t have to worry about offending anyone. It just happens. The big controversy last time I did it was a Caitlyn Jenner joke. Outrage on Twitter the next day. I mean a couple of people going, “It was transphobic.” It wasn’t transphobic in the slightest. It was a joke about a trans person, but it had nothing to do with that aspect of her existence. And that’s the other thing about offense. People mistake the subject of a joke with the actual target. They’re not necessarily the same. I’ll tell you the joke, you make your minds up. It’s live, so they go, “Your host for the 68th Annual Golden Globes Awards, please welcome Ricky Gervais.” They’re all clapping, the actors are smiling at me. Nervously. It’s brilliant, right? So, I just go, “Relax, I’m gonna be nice tonight. I’ve changed. Not as much as Bruce Jenner, obviously.” And I go, “Now Caitlyn Jenner, of course.” And what a year she’s had. Became a role model for trans people everywhere, bravely breaking down barriers and destroying stereotypes. She didn’t do a lot for women drivers…” That’s a clever joke. I’ll tell you why. Right? It’s layered. No, listen, right? The subject of that joke is stereotypes. I’m playing with the notion of stereotypes. I start by saying she’s a real woman, a liberal, progressive attitude. Then if she’s a real woman, I hit them with the old-fashioned stereotype. She must be a bad driver, then. Right? The target of the joke is a celebrity killing someone in their car. Let’s not forget that, shall we? A celebrity killing someone in their car, running home and popping on a dress. That’s… the target of the joke, just so we’re clear. Okay? She was interviewed a week later at a press conference for a show of hers. Now cancelled. And… one of the press said, “What do you think of the Ricky Gervais joke?” She went, “Maybe I should host the Golden Globes.” And they tweeted that and @-ed me in, because they want a celebrity feud. It was clickbait. I rose to the bait. Obviously… I just sent back, “Let her host. Just don’t let her drive.” Another website that was in the room, Entertainment Weekly, they tweeted a different headline, and they @-ed me in. Their headline was “Caitlyn finally breaks silence over Ricky Gervais.” I just sent back: “At last. She always brakes too late.” Bring it on. Bring it on. But I’m a considered comedian. I like my jokes to be accurate and my targets to be fair. So I was engaging these people, saying, “Why is it transphobic?” They said, “It’s about a trans person.” That’s ridiculous. That’s like saying a joke about Bill Cosby is automatically racist. It depends on the joke. But I’m willing to learn. I found out my crime was that I dead-named her. I’d never heard that term before a day after the Golden Globes. And that was saying her old name, and even acknowledging she used to be a man. But she did! I saw him on the Olympic Games! He was a decathlete, he was in everything! All over the place! Shot put and pole vault. He won a medal! He was famous! He was on telly all the time, you know? A big… famous… man. With a huge… I don’t know. I’m guessing. Probably. He was big. But I’ve learnt my lesson. Now I know it’s wrong. I’d never dead-name her now. But, years ago, when she was a… man… Years ago, I’m saying. And she went to the… doctor… and… knocked on the door. The doctor went, “Come in!” This is years ago. I’d never dead-name her now, but this is like… a flashback before anyone… You know what… so… so, like, “Come in!” And he went, “Hello, Bruce Jenner.” Because that… that was his name… then. The doctor– This was years ago… The doctor went, “All right, Bruce Jenner, how you doing, you fucker? You big old lunk. How you doing? Come here, you, you fucker. How you doing, Brucie boy?” And Bruce Jenner– That was his name. This is years ago. Right? So… Bruce Jenner went, “Yeah. Yeah, not too bad, Doctor. Yeah.” “What can I do for you, Bruce, you fucker? How you doing, boy?” And Bruce Jenner went– That was his name. Bruce Jenner went… “Look at that.” The doctor went, “Come on, Bruce Jenner, you know the rules.” He uses his whole name every time, for some reason… “Come on, Bruce Jenner, you fucker. You know the rules. You can’t bring your big old pole vaulting pole in here, mate.” Bruce Jenner went, “No, that’s not my pole, that’s my enormous penis.” “Well, seeing as it’s your penis, you can bring it in here. But you should have left your shot puts outside.” And Bruce Jenner went… That was his name for… fifty-eight years, I think. He went, “No, they’re not my shot puts, Doctor, they’re my enormous testicles.” That’s where I keep my testosterone, and my spunk, and shit, right? And the doctor went, “Oh yeah. That makes perfect– I’m a medical man. You’re a big bloke. You fucker. How you doing, boy? You’re a big… You’re big, and you would have a big old… cock and… balls. They’re beautiful.” Bit familiar, innit? “No, you must be very proud of them, Bruce.” Bruce went, “This is going to surprise you, Doctor. I wanna get rid of them.” And the doctor went, “What? Why?” “Oh, they get in the way.” “In the way of what?” “Fucking driving, for one thing!” So, I’m engaging these people, and I’m saying, “But I had to say her old name. That’s the joke. I say, “I’ve changed. Not as much as Bruce Jenner.” Then I do the joke.” But, no. This is my second crime. I say, she hasn’t changed. She’s always identified as a woman. That means she’s a woman. Fine, if that’s the rules. If you feel you’re a woman, you are. I’m not a bigot who thinks having all that done is science going too far. In fact, I don’t think it’s going far enough. Cause I’ve always identified as a chimp, right? Well, I am a chimp. If I say I’m a chimp, I am a chimp. Pre-op. But… Don’t ever dead-name me. Don’t call me Ricky Gervais again. From now on, you call me Bobo. I’m gonna have species realignment. I’m halfway there. I’m short, with short legs and long arms. I stoop. My back’s getting hairier by the day. I’ve got fangs, like that. I love nuts. I love nuts. Once, I was at the zoo, and people were looking at me, so I just started masturbating, like… So… I am a chimp, right? I am a chimp if I say I’m a chimp. I’ve got to live as a chimp for a year. Then have hormones, get me all nice and hairy. That’d be lovely. I’m gonna stay a male chimp… so I can keep all that, right? Male, heterosexual chimp. Keep the same girlfriend. Jane would be happy. She loves me, she loves chimps, so… You know. I reckon that’s got to be easier for a man to turn into a chimp, we’re so close, than for a man to turn into a woman, in many ways. A bit of hair, and a top lip like that, as opposed to your cock and balls ripped off… and a hole gouged out, into– I’m not a doctor! But that is… the gist of it. I know which one I’d rather have done. I’m not saying chimps are better than women. No way. Right? Any ladies here? I can’t see you, but, to me, every single one of you is equal… to a chimp. So… So, I’d have all that done, hair and that. I’d do all that, all the… I’ll retain the ability to speak English. Like in emergencies. I’m talking to Jane, she’s going, “What is it?” “What is it, Bobo?” “You left the fucking oven on! There’s a fire!” Are you saying that if Caitlyn Jenner was being chased by a wolf, and there was a big fence but she had a long pole, she’d… revert. She’d be over that fucking… Easy. So I’d have all that done. Top lip. Doing all that. Right? I’ll be legally a chimp. I’ll be well… properly chimped-up. I’ll be able to use chimp toilets! I’ll be walking along, holding Jane’s hand. “Come on, Bobo.” Right? We don’t hold hands now. I don’t know why she’s all over me now I’m a chimp. But we’ll be all in love. Maybe matching jumpers. “Come on, Bobo.” In love. Just two… Like that. Then, if a bigot in a van slows down and goes, “That’s fucking disgusting.” I’ll fling shit at him and run up a tree. And that’s why that joke isn’t transphobic. So… Cheers. So, humanity. What is humanity? What are we? Well, we’ve touched upon it there. We’re great apes. Not metaphorically! We’re literally great apes. We are 98.6% genetically identical to a chimpanzee. We’re closer to chimps than chimps are to gorillas. We left our common ancestor about six million years ago. We have the same life cycle. Same as any other animal. Which is… our parents mate… we’re born… we grow… we mate… our parents die… our friends die… and then we die. Now… my seven-year-old niece didn’t like hearing that. But I said, “You’ve gotta learn. Stop crying.” I said, “You’re seven. You know… today. So… Any more grizzling and this party’s cancelled, so…” Let’s take the first of those. Birth. It’s odd, because a human is born before the end of its natural gestation period. I mean, because of our evolution, our brain is so big, we have to get that huge head out early. That’s why the skull is in parts and supple. Then we go on gestating outside the womb. That’s why we’re so useless. Look at other mammals. A giraffe is walking along. It goes, “I’m proper pregnant.” Right? I’m gonna have a baby giraffe right here. Yeah, there it is. See you later. And the baby goes, “Mum!” It’s got to be fucking ready. We’re… we’re helpless, right? Just think, nine months we’re growing in this perfect environment. Everything’s… It’s like being in a little Kate Bush video, right? Then, suddenly, you’re being squeezed out of an hole near an ass. You’re covered in shit, there’s screaming. You go, “I can’t breathe.” Someone goes, “Yes, you fucking can!” The first one second of life on Earth. You don’t know where you are. You can’t choose where you’re born. I was born in Whitley Estate in Reading, right? I wouldn’t have chosen that. I’d have chosen Hampstead. I did choose Hampstead. It just took 45 years to be able to afford it. Very different. Very different, my upbringing to how I live now. Now I live a privileged life. Hampstead is ridiculous. It’s a rarefied place. It’s like the grandchildren of poets and painters and me, new money, right? But, growing up, it was tough! I don’t know about now, but in my day, my estate was rough and scary. It felt like wildlife. I was weak and vulnerable. There was danger round every corner. My school was on my street and I ran there every day, so I didn’t get mugged or molested. There weren’t many pedophiles in Reading, the murderers had killed a lot. But there was still a couple. I moved to Hampstead. Oh my god! There’s no crime! I saw a knife once in Hampstead. It was a palette knife. Just a bloke, oil painting, in the middle of the street. Broad daylight, no-one gobbing on it or calling him “bender”. It was weird! I know my life has changed drastically, It wasn’t always like that. As a famous person, you read about yourself. Gossip and Twitter and everything. One thing kept cropping up, even as I prepared for this tour. People kept saying, “He’s out of touch. He’s so famous. He’s rich. He’s mega-rich.” I am. Right? I could have this place burnt down for a laugh. No, but they say things like, “He’s an observational comedian. How can he say things that relate to ordinary… scum.” And I say.. I say, “Don’t call them scum, right?” But even the papers, they try and… get around to it. I do interviews and they’ll always say, “Do you always fly first class?” I go, “No. Often private.” Right? The number of times I’ve answered this question. They say, “Do you know how much a pint of milk is?” To make you look out of touch. I don’t know, but that’s irrelevant. Next time a journalist asks me, I’ll say, “I don’t know. But here’s a grand. Run and get me one.” Is that enough? That enough? Yeah. Another question I always get, particularly with the posh Sundays, doing a profile piece. They’re still trying to alienate you, make you look different. They say things like, “You don’t have children.” I say, “No.” “Why don’t you have children?” Which is an odd question. Why don’t you have children? As opposed to asking people, “Why do you have children?” Let’s ask the fat lady in the leggings why she’s had eight, shall we? Nine! That one just fell out. That one didn’t even touch the sides. Or… disturb her cigarette. That one just… Go and claim for that. People say it’s selfish to not have children. How is it selfish to not bring a life into the world that doesn’t exist on any level? There’s not a cabinet full of potential ghost fetuses going, “We want to be born!” Right? But I’ve thought about it and there’s three reasons I don’t have children. Three main reasons and I’ll share them with you. Three reasons. One. There’s millions! The world’s over-populated. No-one’s going, “Rick’s not having kids. We’re gonna run out. Fuck.” Two. Kids are scroungers. Aren’t they? I mean, from day one, it’s all “me, me, me”, isn’t it? “Feed me.” “Clothe me.” “Pay for my chemotherapy.” No… No. Not my problem, son. Not mine. Luck of the draw, boy. Luck of the draw. It costs the average household in the West $200,000 to bring up a child. And they don’t want to pay you back. They’re not grateful. They don’t go, “Thanks for having me.” It’s “I didn’t wanna be born.” Even if they get a top job, which they won’t, you’ll never see that money back. They’ll just put you in a home, okay? And my kid, he’d be born into ridiculous wealth, wouldn’t he? So… He’d be a little cunt. A little Hampstead cunt… running around with all the other fucking little Hampstead cunts, being all Hampstead and cunty. “I’m a little Hampstead cunt.” Yes, I know. “These are my cunty friends.” I know, it’s obvious. I can tell from your little fucking cunty hats that you’re little Hampstead cunts, you little posh Hampstead… First, he’d know he was a little Hampstead cunt. “I’m a little…” Yes, we know. Everyone knows, right? He’d know that, right? On the other hand, he’d know he’d never live up to being as brilliant as his dad. I’d say, “I worked my way up from nothing, and you’re just a useless Hampstead cunt.” He’d go, “Yeah.” And that would probably prey on his little mind a bit. Eleven, twelve, he’d be naughty, run with the wrong crowd, try and get out from under my shadow. Then he’d turn to drugs. About 30, he’d come home, and overdose on my Afghan rug. Twenty grand, that was, right? And as he was there, convulsing, and throwing up his fucking lungs, right, and with his little posh, high-pitched, fucking death rattle… his little fucking dying words, he’d go, “Do you love me now, Daddy?” No! No. No, I never did. That’s why you’ll never be born, you useless, fucking junkie, Hampstead cunt. And, three… I’d worry sick about him. You know? No I would! I’ve only got a cat now and I worry sick about her. I check the door three times when I go out, so she doesn’t escape. I put food and water in every room in case the door shuts and she’s peckish. A human baby? Oh my god, the responsibility of a human life? I’d watch it sleep. You know? We said how weak and vulnerable they are. Oh, my god! You perfect little thing. Oh, you flesh of my flesh. Now, go to sleep in your expensive cot, like that. Night, night. Sleep tight. Don’t let the bedbugs… Dead. Yeah. Just… Why? Why is it dead? It’s just fucking dead, look! Fuck’s sake! Fucking hell. What the… What a fucking waste of time that was! Fuck’s sake. Embarrassing. “Jane?” -“What?” -“Come here.” -“I’m in the shower.” -“Come here.” “What?” “Fucking dead already. I didn’t… Just fucking… Fucking hell, Jane. You call that a baby? That is…” If Jane was out, I’d have to text her, wouldn’t I? What could you… “Baby’s dead.” She’d come back. “What the fuck?” I’d go, “Yep… Forget the Pampers. LOL.” But even if it made it through the terrifying cot years, and it was a toddler running around head height to my antique tables, with their sharp edges. I’d have to pad them so it didn’t run into it, cave its head in and die. Then Social Services come round and say, “Is this your child, Mr. Gervais?” -“Yeah.” -“What happened here, then?” I go, “It’s a fucking idiot.” I did think of adopting for a while. A little third world child. Because that would tick all three boxes. One, I wouldn’t be adding to the population problem. I’d be alleviating an existing problem. A young kid born, through no fault of his own, into abject poverty, he would have died, I can literally save his life, and give him a great upbringing. Right? Two. He would be grateful, wouldn’t he? He’d wanna pay me back, woudn’t he? Particularly if I let him know the other kids in the village weren’t so lucky. They didn’t… They didn’t make it out. Right? I’d tell him that early on, so he really bucked his ideas up. I’d go, “Tunde, come here. Come here. Yeah, yeah. Go and pop a shirt on, you’re not in Africa now. That’s better. Yeah. Tunde, look– Yeah! Water straight out of a tap, innit? Yes! Yeah. Yeah! No, it’s not free. It’s Hampstead, you know, but… Yeah, course it’s safe. Safe, fresh drinking water. Have as much as you want. Have a bucket full. Fresh drinking water. There you go. Go and clean the car. Go on.” No, I’d go, “Look. Remember all your friends in the village back in Africa? They’re all dead. A rich man didn’t save them and bring them to Hampstead. -Do you wanna pay me back?” -“Yeah.” “Yeah, I bet you do.” The good thing about them is, they can start work when they’re about… six. I just call up Nike and I go… “Do you still make your stuff in sweatshops? Got a great little worker here, yeah. Pound a day’s fine. He’s gotta start somewhere. And, three… if he ran round and caved his head in… and died, and Social Services came round and said, “Is this your child, Mr Gervais?” I’d go, “Does it look like mine?” I’d go… “This is Hampstead. It’s obviously broken in.” That’s why I don’t have kids. Even though I don’t have children of my own, people still show me photos of theirs, like I give a shit. I don’t mean my own family. They’ve given up. I’ve got older brothers and sisters. They’ve had loads of kids. And their kids have kids, and then their kids! There’s about 50. I don’t know all their names. I see them at Christmas. It’s all “Uncle Ricky!” They know I’ve got a bit of cash. They go through my pockets, and then fuck off. It’s like being mugged by mice, right? I don’t mean them, I mean strangers. I could be busy, I could be working, like on the set of a TV or film or something, stressed, producing or directing it. You get someone who’s in for one day, with one line, or a stuntman, they introduce themselves. “Good. Be with you in a minute.” Then they hover. -“Busy?” -I go, “Yeah! Yes. Yeah.” They go, “Working the weekend?” I go, “Not filming, but I’ll be in the edit.” “I’m taking my youngest to ballet lessons.” “Ah. Great. Great.” “Yeah, she’s eight.” “I’ve got a photograph.” I go, “You know what? Show me it if she goes missing. I’ll keep an eye open in the woods.” You’ve gotta go through the whole polite rigmarole, and go, “She’s beautiful.” It’s gotta be long. Too short, it’s awkward. They know. You go, “Yeah, right.” Too long and it’s like, “She’s… She’s fucking beautiful.” It’s a minefield, innit? So… I’m not out of touch. But I am spoiled. There’s a difference. I didn’t have any money until I was 40. I’ve got the same family, friends and values. But I am spoiled. Because opportunity and privilege spoils you. And it doesn’t take much. I’l give you an example. When I first made it in America, the next time we flew, we’re met by a bloke in a suit and a thing. And he just walked us past the queue and straight out the other side. The first time, you’re horrified. “Everyone’s looking.” Pretending to be late, baseball cap. Oh, god. Next time we flew, I went, “Where’s that bloke? I’m not queueing!” It’s quick! When I fly to the States, I’ve got a place there, but I’m always working. So, someone else is paying. So, I go first class. BA. It doesn’t get any better. Even if I was paying, I’d still go first class, but Jane would probably be in coach… It’s ten grand a pop! That new Planet of the Apes movie’s on. She’ll love that. She’ll be up for that. But when someone else is paying, I say, “Jane, get up here with me.” Right? Front two seats… They board us early. We’re on the plane about 15 minutes before anyone else. God. They bring round these snacks, these warmed, caramelized nuts in a bowl. Champagne. It’s great. It’s like a day off. No phone or anything. It’s like a holiday, flying to the States.
I could do without the safety video. That’s always a bit of a downer. And totally pointless. If you hit the side of a mountain at 500 miles per hour, the brace position does fuck all. Imagine if that worked. You’re going down, the plane smashes. You go, “I’ll try it.” You do that. Ball of flames, you wake up, everyone’s dead. You go, “Fucking hell, that’s amazing, that is!” And they always use that voice, don’t they? That calming, hypnotic voice, like, “Nothing bad will happen.” They’re saying horrendous things, but nothing bad will happen, because I’m using this voice, don’t worry. Things like, “In the event of the plane landing on water–” It smashes the fuck to bits, right? They say, “In the event of the plane landing on water, your life jacket is equipped with a whistle.” A fucking whistle. So, the plane hits the water, smashes to bits, everyone’s dead, except you, by a miracle. You’re bobbing around in the Atlantic Ocean. Four degrees, that water is. You’ve got about 15 minutes before hypothermia sets in. Or you’re eaten by a shark, or you drown. You’re hoping they’ve sent air-sea rescue. You’re going, “God, I’m gonna die, I don’t know what I’m doing!” Hold on! I mean, Air Sea Rescue… I don’t know if you’ve ever been in a helicopter. O course you haven’t. But… They’re fucking loud. It’s like having your head in a washing machine. You have to wear ear plugs and defenders. Your teeth rattle. It’s like… Like that. Over the Atlantic Ocean at night. Never gonna happen. If you crash, you die, right? But apart from that, it’s brilliant. Right… I was flying Heathrow to JFK just before Christmas, right? Boarded us early, on the plane. She comes round. “Champagne in a wine glass, like you like it, Mr. Gervais.” She goes off. I go, “Have you got any of them warm nuts?” She went, “We’re not handing out nuts on this flight. A lady’s getting on who’s so allergic, even someone eating nuts nearby would cause her to have a fatal reaction.” I went, “Oh, my god, of course.” I was fuming. I mean… What’s that got to do with me? Why can’t I eat nuts, just cause… fucking… this woman will… die, right? Nuts! How has she lived this long? If walking by a nut kills you… if being… just near a nut… How has she never been near a nut… before? And how has she lived long enough, having never been near a nut, how has she lived long enough to earn enough money to be near me on a plane, right? Honestly. It’s… And if being near a nut kills you, do we really want that in the gene pool? I mean… I never wanted nuts more. I felt she was infringing on my human right to eat nuts. And this is how spoiled I am, okay? I actually had this thought. I thought, “Oh, I wish I’d brought my own nuts on.” Right?. I thought for a second, but that wouldn’t work. She’d get on and start blowing up like a frog, right? Like that… And… die. And someone would go, “Ricky Gervais brought his own nuts on.” You know, right? So I don’t take my own nuts on. Now, before I fly, I have a shower, and then I rub myself all over… in nuts… just in case. Then I go, “Can I have any nuts?” They go, “No, sorry, this lady would die.” “Yeah, not a problem.” Lady gets on, sits down, starts blowing up like a frog… I go, “What’s the matter?” I touch her all over. “What’s the matter?” She goes, “Nuts!” Right? And dies. And I go, “Who’s been eating nuts?” I get off scot-free. So I got to America, I went on a chat show. Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon. And I told that story, the whole thing. It went well, audience laughed. Great. Went out. Next day on Twitter, outrage. By “outrage”, I mean one person going, “How dare you?” This woman goes, “I saw you on Jimmy Fallon, making fun of nut allergies. My daughter’s nut-intolerant. How dare you?” I go, “Who is this woman?” She’s tweeted 15 times. She starts @-ing NBC and Jimmy Fallon. I go, “What’s this? How many followers? Twenty-three. Ignore it.” You know when you’re being told off, and they use your own words against you, like a teacher going, “So, you find so and so funny?” And cause the teacher’s really angry, yes, you do find that thing funny, whatever… She said… “Would you find it funny if my daughter blew up like a frog?” Yeah. Yeah, you saying that… Yes. If you said that at the funeral, I would, yeah… So, someone else gets involved. Ohio Moms Against Nuts, right? And she does a blog, and they’re talking to each other, and she puts me in her blog about how disgusting I am. One filmed her little girl, put it on YouTube, and sent me it. I opened it. Sweet little girl, seven years old. And she went, “Dear Mr. Gervais, I have a fatal nut allergy.” Delete. Not my problem, right? Ignore. Ignore. Ignore. Right? But then one of them said something that reeled me in. Just cause I’m this self-confessed Twitter police. I try and explain to someone every day what freedom of speech means, particularly in the context of comedy, and in the context of a joke. A joke about a bad thing isn’t as bad as the bad thing, or necessarily condoning the bad thing. It could be anti the bad thing. It depends on the actual joke. And this woman said… “You should never make jokes about food allergies.” I should have left it, right? I sent back, “I make jokes about AIDS, cancer, famine, and the Holocaust. And you’re telling me I should never joke about food allergies?” She sent back, “Yes, but the Holocaust didn’t kill children.” Well… it did, didn’t it? It was horrible, the Holocaust. Some would say as bad as food allergies. “Didn’t kill children…” Jesus. It did kill children. Hitler killed 12 million people, many of them children. I have to say, Hitler, you couldn’t make him up. The worst human being to walk the face of the Earth. He is a crazy… evil, racist, narcissistic serial killer. Just terrible. But… if I was throwing a dinner party, and I’d been slaving over a hot stove, and I was getting everything ready, and there was one place left, and I had to… either invite Hitler or that little girl with food allergies… I know who’d ruin that party more. Everyone’s enjoying it. “Everything okay?” “Ja, ist yummy!” Right? He’s loving it. I go, “Cheers, you fucker! How you doing, boy?” She’s going, “I can’t eat that.” Fucking hell. “Who wants Ferrero Rocher?” “Me!” “All right. Here!” “I can’t eat them.” Oh, fuck off home. Right?
That’s what the world’s like. People see something they don’t like, they expect it to stop, as opposed to deal with their emotions. They want us to care about their thing as much as they do. It’s why the world is getting worse, and the world is getting worse. I think I’ve lived through the best 50 years of humanity… 1965 to 2015, the peak of civilization, for everything. For tolerances, for freedoms, for communication, for medicine. Now it’s going the other way a bit. Last couple of years, just a little blip, maybe. I’m not saying this because I’m old. Old people say things like, “Oh, everything was better when I was a kid.” Course it was. You were a kid. Everything’s better when you’re a kid. Being old is the shit bit. Whatever’s happening, being old is… I wake up these days, and I go, “Oh fuck, I didn’t die.” Gotta do it all again. I’m usually hung over, headache, liver pains. I can’t walk for the first five minutes, ’cause I’ve got no joints in my knees. I’m getting fat again now, right? I was thin till I was about 28, proper skinny, like nine and a half stone. Then I got a job, right? And the next, sort of, 20 years were what I call my eating years… And I just got steadily fatter and fatter. Until I reached a peak of unwellness and blobbiness, when I was about 48 years old. There was one Christmas, I was at home, lying on the floor… And… I was saying to Jane, “I’m having a heart attack.” Right? And, honestly, my heart rate was like 130. I felt nauseous, I had palpitations, I was sweating. Because I’d eaten eleven sausages. True story, right? I was like one of them snakes. Like when you see a big, like… python swallow a pig whole. And then it’s just fucked. It’s, like… it’ll sit there for a week. It’s like a duffel bag. Just there, like that. That was me, right? I wasn’t having a heart attack, but it worried Jane. She said, “You gotta look after yourself.” I thought, “You’re right. 48.” So I started working out, right, every day. I didn’t give anything up. I don’t eat meat anymore. But I was having 2500, 3000 calories a day, including wine every night. But I burnt it off the next day. Just so I could do all that, I worked out every day, running, weight training… I had more time on my hands than the average person. I had a gym in my house, I had no excuse. I lost 20 pounds. It was great. But now, I still eat and drink too much, but I physically can’t… burn off the calories. I can’t do enough. Cause I’m so old and broken and tired. So, I’m going to get steadily fatter and fatter again, and this time I am going to die. I’m losing my hair. It’s getting really thin. I know it looks great from there. Cheers, but… No, honestly, in a lift, with that light directly overhead, and the mirror, it looks like an x-ray, right? I’ll have to buzz that off soon. I’d never wear a wig, oh, my god. If you wear a wig or a toupee, and you think you’ve got away with it… you haven’t. Everyone knows. Everyone knows immediately. My brain knows a wig has come into the room before I do, right? I could be at a party, it’ll go, “There’s a wig in here.” -I go. “Is there?” -“Yes! There is, yeah!” Spidey senses for the wig. It’s obvious. The way they smile, like nothing’s wrong. Hiya. It’s the telltale signs, isn’t it? I was put off wigs for life by my uncle Reginald. Great bloke. He’s dead now. Died a few years ago. I was only little. He went bald in his twenties. Tragically bald. His hair fell out. It might have been something like alopecia. But he was bald for ten years into his thirties. Turns up one day at our house… “Elvis! What is–” I was about eight, I said to Auntie Edna, “What happened?” She went, “It was a miracle.” They were lying! They were just… Everyone knew he was bald! But he’d embroiled his family in the lie, so they had to lie as well. They’re going, “Yeah, it just grew back.” There’s so much he wouldn’t do, cause he was terrified of the wig coming off. We weren’t allowed balloons at parties, right? Auntie Edna said, “Reg is allergic to balloons.” He wasn’t allergic. He was terrified one of us kids would rub one on our sweater, and his wig would fly across the room. We’ve got photos in the family album. If he’s at a wedding or a christening, and he’s holding a baby, it’s always at arms’ length. Like that. So it can’t grab his wig. It must have been on his mind all the time, right? It was the only thing he feared, the wig coming off in public, and this ridiculous lie being exposed. He was in the Army, hard as nails. He wasn’t scared of anyone or anything. Spiders, snakes… cancer… How’s the chemo going, Uncle? “Not a problem.” We’ve got a photo of him, the last year, I think. He was 75. It must have been the last year he was alive. It was a hot day. He was in the garden. In his little trunks. He was a wizened little man by then. White chest hair. Jet black wig still! Died in it, buried in it. He’s wearing it now. A little skeleton with jet black hair. Like Posh Spice for eternity. But I knew that was gonna happen. I knew I would get old and fat and… ill and blind and deaf and… shit myself and be pushed round in a fucking bucket. You’re ready, because you’re warned. You know about getting old. What they don’t talk about, so you’re not prepared, and it was a shock to me… I only found out recently, I’ll share it with you now. The distending testicles. See, you don’t know about it. But it happens in your fifties. I wasn’t checking them or anything… I didn’t see ’em for 20 years. As a young man, they were pert, and now they’re like two plums in a sock. I don’t know when it happened, but it was recently. They just… And this is how I found out. So, as I’ve been getting older, and they’ve been secretly stretching away… as I’ve got older, I’ve got richer, so my baths have been getting more luxurious. Last year, I moved into a new house in Hampstead. Big bath. Big sunken bath. South-facing windows. I was in there the first night. Lovely bath. Sun streaming in, classical music, this is the life. I looked down. And they’re floating. Right? Now, I’d never dreamt that testicles would float. They seem like they’d be heavy. You could tie things down with them, and they’d sink. You know? Most people never see their… In the sea, you’re in trunks, in the shower, they dangle, and baths aren’t usually that deep! That was my first thought. “Oh, my god, I never thought testicles would float.” Then my second thought kicked in. “Hold on, this bath’s two feet deep!” Right? I’m sitting on the bottom, they’re on top. What’s going on? Right? And… I looked, and my testicles are now longer than my penis. Easily, by some way, right? In fact, they’d created, a little, fleshy sort of life raft, right? My penis was dry, just nestled, just… floating on top. Like that. Like that. Just bouncing around. I should have given it a little whistle. I’m just thinking, “This is bizarre.” Fucking hell, right? And… I thought, “Maybe it’s a fluke.” So I held them under the water for a minute, I let them go and they bobbed up! They’re really… They’re really buoyant, right? Try it when you get home, if you’re in your 50s. And a man, obviously. Or Caitlyn Jenner. But… But the world is getting worse. And I blame the beginning of its demise on social media. Because Twitter and Facebook, that’s where this ridiculous notion bred, and became stable, that it was more important to be popular than right. Everything was “like me”, “agree with me”. It falls into two tribes. “I don’t agree with them, so I block them.” And now, in this post-truth era, people don’t care about the argument, they say, “Who’s saying the argument? No, they’re not on our side.” It’s ludicrous, okay? And it also bred this ridiculous notion we’ve always had. My opinion is worth as much as yours. Now, it’s my opinion is worth as much as your fact, which is nonsense. I get tweets from people saying, “I believe the Earth is 6,000 years old.” “I believe you’re a fucking idiot.” You can’t have an opinion on the age of the Earth. You can have opinions, but not your own facts. But it was all about being popular, right? And even politicians picked up those symptoms. Politicians tweet now, they want to be popular. We had a Brexit referendum cause they passed the buck. They didn’t want to make a mistake. And there’s a ridiculous thing of, “Let’s ask the average person what they think.” Let’s stop asking the average person what they… Do you know how fucking stupid the average person is? We still sell bottles of bleach with big labels on that say “Do not drink”. Right? Let’s take those labels off, right? For two years. And then have a referendum. But it’s not just politicians. Even real news. The news on TV says things like, “Tweet us your news.” Don’t let them tweet you the news! -“I saw a Tyrannosaurus rex.” -You liar! Right? There was a big news story last year, about a train crash that happened a year before, and there was an inquiry. The results of the inquiry were published and there was an expert on the news. He said, “We’ve looked at everything, and we’ve decided that the speed of the trains was a contributing factor, so we’re going to slow them down a bit. Statistically, this shouldn’t happen again.” That would have been it. But the guy went, “We asked the public what they thought.” Then there was three banal vox pops. First one said, “I already pay £960 a year, so I’m not happy.” The next one said, “It takes me 45 minutes each way, it’s not good enough.” The last one said, “I say it’s better to arrive at work late than dead.” Why is that on the news? And when is that applicable in any situation? All right, Ted? You’re in early. Ted? Oh, Ted! We’ve been through this. Remember I said I’d rather you arrive late than dead? But… the big enemy is stupidity… right? I wanna share with you the most stupid tweet I ever got. Now, admittedly, when I first got on Twitter, I pushed my agenda. I was an outspoken atheist. Not to change anyone’s opinions. I thought it was important to tell the other side. There are still 13 countries where people are put to death for being an atheist. I just wanted to say, “It’s fine to be an atheist. It’s fine to believe in God, and it’s fine not to.” That’s all I was saying. I realized I didn’t have to tweet about religion or atheism. I could tweet a fact, and that annoyed just the right people. I’d tweet things like “Happy birthday, Earth. Four point six billion years old today.” Someone would always go, “We know what you’re fucking doing.” This is a tweet I got after one of those. And… it was all in capitals, which excited me… That’s the sign of Twitter madness. Mixed with anger. It’s great, right? I looked at his profile. Sure enough, he’s a gentleman from Texas. He’s a fundamentalist, creationist Christian. Which is fine! He loves God. He loves God and… fetuses, mainly. He loves the fetus from conception to when it turns out gay, and then he’s… Remember it’s in capitals. He’s shouting at me. Best tweet ever. “YOUR SCIENCE–” My science, right? Science, by the way, is spelled S-C-I-E-N-T-S. Already good, isn’t it? I mean… He’s obviously heard the word, he took a guess… Never seen it written down, because it’s not in the Bible. So he’s… “YOUR SCIENTS WON’T HELP YOU… Well, it will. It’s helping him… beam this little message up to a satellite and down to me. “YOUR SCIENTS WON’T HELP YOU WHEN SATAN…” Of course he believes in Satan. Why not? He believes that God made the universe in six days. You’re not gonna say to him, “Do you believe in Satan?” And have him say, “Bit far-fetched.” Why doesn’t God kill Satan? That’s… what I’d ask him. If I was wrong and I met God, I’d go, “Oh, you do exist.” He’d go, “Yeah.” I’d go, “I’ve got a few fucking questions, mate. The first one would be, “Why did you make chocolate kill dogs?” Mental, right? Also, if you hate homosexuality so much, why did you put the male G-spot up the arse? What… What is wrong with you? Then I’d say, “Why don’t you kill Satan?” And he’d go, “What?” I’d go, “Why don’t you kill Satan? If he does all the bad stuff and you do all the good stuff, which you want… I mean, you do want–” “Yes, yeah.” “You could kill him if you wanted, you can do anything, easy.” “Yeah.” “Why don’t you kill him, then?” “Because… Shut up.” “YOUR SCIENTS WON’T HELP YOU WHEN SATAN IS RAPING YOUR BRITISH ASS.” And he’s got a point. Because if I die, and I find myself in Hell, being raped by Satan… Science has pretty much let me down. But it’s this last line that he just throws away. The line he signs off with, makes this the best tweet I’ve ever received. “YOUR SCIENTS WON’T HELP YOU WHEN SATAN IS RAPING YOUR BRITISH ASS. I’LL BE LAUGHING.” So… he’s there too! He’s… So, he’s a fundamentalist… Christian, who’s lived his life by the Old and New Testaments. He dies, he wakes up in Hell, right? Which must be off the charts on the scale of emotional trauma… “Oh, my God, I’m in Hell! Oh, my God, why have you forsaken me? I’m gonna be tortured for eternity!” He sees me getting raped and goes, “Ha, ha, ha!” He’s suddenly over it, is he? His day’s suddenly got a little bit brighter. And like he’s not next, right? So I’m getting raped, right, by the Devil, right? He’s just there. “You fucking atheist scum.” And I’m like that. “Yeah, whatever.” I assume it happens all eternity. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Like that. I might say, “Watch your hooves on my testicles.” And he’d go, “Why are they so distended?” And I go, “Oh, like you’re Brad Pitt!” You know what I mean? Sorry, are we talking or raping? Can we… “You lying, fucking atheist.” He’s probably bored. “Fucking atheists. Every fucking day.” Right? His little gargoyle comes up. “Satan?” He goes, “What?” And I go, “Yeah? What?” He goes, “There’s a fundamentalist Christian.” “Fuck this!” He’d be on him like a ton of bricks! So… I got that tweet. I loved it. All I did was re-tweet, right? And just watch the fun, people piling on, going, “Ah, loser!” And he’s fighting back, really witlessly, saying things like, “Go fuck your sister, you English faggot!” That makes no sense at all. I forgot about it. Went and did something else. Few hours later, on Twitter again. It’s still all going off, right? It’s really funny, I’m laughing at all the replies. People saying things to him. I’m scrolling down. There’s one tweet, directly to me, from this woman. She says, “You find rape funny?” No! No! What? No… “Your mates find rape funny?” No! Listen, right? “You find rape funny?” Listen, everyone! Listen, right? No… I said to her, “I didn’t tweet that.” -She went, “You retweeted it.” -To show he’s an idiot. “But you must find it funny or amusing. It’s not a frivolous thing.” I said, “No, well, it’s up to him, isn’t it? He can do it.” Now I’m arguing with quite a nice, sane person, who thinks this is mental. But I’m fighting for his right… to fantasize about me being raped by the Devil. Because I’m so conscious of “freedom of speech”… What a topsy-turvy world, right? Although her opening gambit annoyed me a bit. Because she did that thing that people do. She didn’t say, “What, you find jokes about rape funny?” She said, “What, you find rape funny?” The answer to that is, no, of course not. No one finds rape funny. Not even rapists find rape funny, know what I mean? Noone ever gives evidence saying, “It was dark, he wore a ski mask, and he was giggling.” That’s never… So… I sent back, “You mean jokes about rape?” She said, “Yes.” -I went, “Depends on the joke.” “-It fucking doesn’t!” I’m going, “No, it does! It does! It depends on the joke. It’s about context, it’s about content. What do you mean by a rape joke?” She said, “Even a joke with the word ‘rape’ in it is unacceptable.” I said, “That’s ridiculous, it depends what the joke is.” I tweeted that clip of me in The Office, going, “I think there’s been a rape up there!” Everyone gets that because of the context. And the target is a middle-aged man, who’s so narcissistic, he’ll say anything to win a silly game. You have to understand the joke and where it comes from. I said, “Some jokes don’t punch up or down. They don’t punch anywhere. They can just be a pun, a play on words, that don’t really mean anything.” A joke went round when I was a kid, even adults told it. I’ll tell you. A woman goes running into a police station. She says, “Help, I’ve been graped!” The policeman says, “Do you mean raped?” She says, “No, there was a bunch of them.” That is a rape joke, right? So…. And I even said to her, “No, I agree, in most cases, yeah. Real rape jokes, they are fucking horrible when the victim is the target. Disgusting! I’d never tell those. But it depends on the joke, not the word or the subject.” I calmed it down, and they agreed some jokes are worse than others. She ended it by saying, “Well, okay, I see your point, but… still… I will laugh at a joke with the word ‘rape’ in it, when no-one in the audience has been raped.” I should have left it. I just sent back, “What a weird door policy.” You turn up to a comedy gig, pay your money, someone says, “Can I just ask you a question?” Yeah. Have you ever been raped? I have, yes. You can’t come in. What? Why? A lady says she won’t laugh if you’re in. Off you go. That’s what the world is like. People take everything personally. They think the world revolves around them, particularly on Twitter. I’m not tweeting anyone, I’m just tweeting. I don’t know who’s following me. I’ve got 12 million followers. They can be following me without me knowing, choose to read my tweet, and then take that personally. That’s like going into a town square, seeing a big noticeboard saying “Guitar lessons”, and you go, “But I don’t fucking want guitar lessons!” What’s this? There’s a number here. Right, call that. Are you giving guitar lessons? I don’t fucking want any! Fine! It’s not for you, then. Just walk away. Don’t worry about it.
I should say one thing in Twitter’s defense. I use it as a marketing tool and for fun, like everyone else. But one great thing about Twitter, for me, personally, I’m very into anti animal cruelty. Years ago, it would take ages to get 100,000 signatures on a petition. Standing outside Tesco’s or something. That’s the magic number, because then it gets heard in Parliament. I’ve been part of many campaigns through Twitter when we’ve got 100,000 signatures in days, and the law has been changed. Thank you to those who’ve retweeted about animal cruelty. It makes a difference. Thank you. But even something as clear and distinct as animal cruelty, You think no one’s gonna argue with that. Yes, they will. They just wanna be heard. I’ll tweet something about a bull being tortured in a bullring for entertainment. I say, “Ban bullfighting.” Someone always says, “What about the kids in Syria?” What? Well, I’m not giving you a choice. You can do both. I’m not saying, “Throw that kid back in the hole, there’s a bull here!” And there’s one thing that I didn’t want in my head, but it exists, so we have to deal with it now that I found out, through Twitter. There’s a thing called the Yulin Dog Meat Festival, in China, every year. And it’s horrendous. And we send people with money to buy the dogs, to bring them back. It’s a drop in the ocean. They eat thousands over this weekend. I tweet the details, the petition, people don’t really read it. It’s a knee-jerk. People say, “Racist!” I go, “What?” They go, “We eat pigs and cows in the West.” Yep, we do. I don’t but, yeah, I used to. You’re right, a pig or a cow is worth as much as a dog. It’s not about the species. It’s what they do to these poor dogs. What they do is torture the dogs first. ‘Cause they think it makes the meat taste better. They beat them, they blowtorch them. They even skin them alive. And I saw this picture… on Twitter of the opening of this ceremony. These two guys, in this Chinese square, and they’re skinning this dog alive. It’s screaming, they’re laughing. It’s the worst thing I’ve ever seen. I thought, “I’ve got to tweet that.” I tweeted the picture, with a petition, and I just said, “One beautiful creature, and two ugly cunts, skinning it alive.” Right? And it took off. Loads of retweets, it made the press. I got one tweet back, from a woman, that said, “Is that language necessary?” I should have left it, right? But I was… I was incensed! I said, “You’re more offended by a word than by an animal being tortured to death?” She said, “I just hate the C-word.” I definitely should have left it. I sent back, “People who hate the C-word would hear it a lot less, if they didn’t go round acting like such cunts.” Thank you! You’ve been fantastic! Good night! Cheers! Thank you so much! Thank you so much. I hope you enjoyed the show. I hope no-one was offended. No, I really do! That’s not the point. I’ve always wanted people to know they can laugh at bad things, without being bad people. I think it’s my upbringing. I grew up… in poverty, with nothing. But the point was to pay your way then have a laugh. That was the men. The women carried on working. It was my older brother, Bob, it was him who I first saw making these dark jokes, right in the bad situation, as things were happening. People were laughing. I realized, “He’s healing them.” That’s what comedy’s for, what humor’s for. It gets us over bad stuff. Right? Typical Bob story. He once spent an hour in the pound shop in Hayling Island, just asking the cashier how much everything was. Just to see if he could break this poor man’s will. Bob was the first person I saw answer back to authority. The first authority you come across are your parents. And he’d get in trouble. He got sent to bed. But I thought he’d won the argument. And he’d tease my mum. My mum was a typical working-class woman. As I say, we lived in a shitty area, right? And most of the houses looked like a bit of mud, and a stolen bike, and fence posts missing. She mended the fence, turfed the garden herself, painted the step. She thought, “If it looked respectable, we’d be respectable.” It was about reputation, I guess. Bob would send her postcards that just read, “Is that pedophile postman still reading your mail?” And she’d take it, she’d go in, and she’d be horrified. She’d call Bob. “He saw it this time, you must stop doing that!” Even at her funeral… My mum died first, and my dad carried on for a year or so, just drinking beer, then he went. At Mum’s funeral, we had different duties. I did catering and flowers. Bob went to see the local vicar. That was a mistake, right? We’d never been to church, he didn’t know us, we didn’t know him. So, he said to Bob, “Tell me about your mum, so I can say a few words.” Bob saw that as an opportunity, right? So, Bob, with a straight face, said, “Well, she was a keen racist.” The vicar went, “I can’t say that.” Bob said, “Okay, put she liked gardening.” He was trying to get the vicar to say something to make us laugh in church. He didn’t warn us. And he did get something by the vicar. So we’re called Ricky, Robert– Bob– Ricky, Robert, Marsha and Larry. Now, Larry is the oldest, in his seventies. Born in the war. I always thought he was the sensible one. First born, weight of the world on his shoulders. My mum said, when he was a teenager, he got a job and gave her the money to help out. He’s a stand-up guy, Larry. So, Bob… gives the vicar the wrong name. Didn’t warn us. We’re all in church. Start of the funeral, we’re all there. Packed out. The coffin comes down. Guided by the vicar. The vicar goes to his pulpit. All confident, with his little notes, right? And he goes… Eva leaves behind four loving children. Ricky. Robert. Marsha. And Barry. And… we snort like that, right? Bob’s going… Everyone realizes. We’re all laughing. We see Larry go… All right. And the church is like… Every time we thought of it, we’d see Larry go… Like that, right? Then we’d just start giggling, just fits of fucking giggles, right? Larry eventually started doing this. And the vicar’s thinking, “What have I said?” Right? He’d put in a few things the vicar didn’t know that set us off again. Things that were just lies, or slightly wrong. My nieces and nephews started crying. I’d come prepared with a pack of tissues. They’d take one and hand it on. Before the funeral, I’d taken the tissues out, written on them, folded them back and put them in. And each tissue said, “Snivelling fucking bitch.” And they’re sort of laughing. So it was like a madhouse, right? Everything the vicar said or did, we all started fucking laughing! Right? And you could see the vicar was visibly shook a little bit. He ended the funeral, and he made a beeline for me and Bob. He said, “Sorry, was that okay?” Me and Bob went, “Fucking brilliant, mate. It was fucking brilliant.” That’s what I mean. We’re all gonna die, so we should have a laugh. If you can laugh in the face of adversity, you’re bullet-proof. Me and my brother, Bob, had one simple rule, and that was if you think of something funny, you’ve got to say it. Win, lose or draw. It might go well… it might go badly. But you’ve gotta say it. And bear that in mind, as I leave you with this. Right… So… we’re all in the car one day. Bob’s driving. Packed in this car. A little day trip to the beach. We get stopped for a security check. And there’s a British bobby there. And he stops the car. Bob’s at the window. He said, “Where are we off to?” Bob went, “Bognor.” He went, “Can you just pop the boot, please?” So he looks at that. Looks in the boot, like that. Back to Bob’s window. Gets that mirror on a stick thing. And he starts just looking under the car. And as he does that, his helmet falls off, right? And out of the helmet falls a packet of 20 cigarettes. And the copper went, “Bet you always wondered what we kept under our helmets.” And Bob went, “I knew it wasn’t fucking brains.” You’ve been amazing. Good night!"