Bill Burr: I'm Sorry You Feel That Way (2014) Movie Script

[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!"
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.
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.
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."
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.
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."
I'm glad he kissed him.
He should have fuckin' blown him.
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.
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."
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?
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!"
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!
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.
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."
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.
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."
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]
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?
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,
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.
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.
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...
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?
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...
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!"
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?
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...
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...
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...
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?"
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."
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?
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.
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.
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.
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?!
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.
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!"
[imitates wind whipping]
But here's the thing.
I left out one small thing.
There is one small thing.
The guy fucking lived.
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!"
[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...
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...
He's trying not to squeak
on the floorboards.
And you're just fucking lying there.
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."
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.
It's the most empty threat there is.
Do it right in front of her.
"Join me!"
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.
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!
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.
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]