Daniel Tosh: People Pleaser (2016) Movie Script
1
Some will die
in hot pursuit
In fiery auto crashes
Some will die
in hot pursuit
While sifting
through my ashes
Some will fall
in love with life
And drink it
from a fountain
That is pouring
like an avalanche
Coming down the mountain
I don't mind
the sun sometimes
The images it shows
I can taste you
on my lips
And smell you
in my clothes
Cinnamon and sugary
And softly spoken lies
You never know
just how you look
Through other people's eyes
Wow.
Thank you.
Ugh, believe it or not,
that gets old.
It is great to be here
in America.
Oh, yeah.
The greatest country
in the world...
if you haven't
traveled a lot.
Do we have to constantly scream
we're number one?
It's always
the people that live
in the most boring parts
of this country
that scream the loudest.
People in Kansas, "We're the
greatest country in the world."
It's like,
do you guys have Internet there?
You ever seen
a photo of Fiji?
I've never been to Fiji,
but I've seen photos.
It looks pretty amazing.
It's hard to think
we're better than that.
We're top ten.
Maybe if we started
screaming that every day,
maybe terrorists
would stop trying
to saw our heads off.
"We're top ten."
And they'd be like,
"That's fair."
"It was that number one stuff
that was getting old."
America's basically turned
into one of these factories
where we just
have a sign up like,
"It's been 22 days
since our last horrible thing."
Then it's like, "Oop,
all right, rip it down.
We're back at zero again."
These things
just keep happening,
you know, whether
it's Ferguson or Baltimore.
I can solve racist cops.
That's an easy fix.
But nobody comes to me
for the answers.
You want to get rid
of that forever?
How about this?
Only black people
should be allowed to be cops.
Boom, problem solved.
And if any of you
have issue with this,
it's because you're racist.
"Well, what about white people?"
White people
can be firefighters.
We're more outdoorsy.
It makes sense.
White people, firefighters.
Black people, cops.
Who wants tickets
to the softball game now?
Yeah, it's gonna get
pretty tense.
Might want to put in
a mercy rule.
And the next time
we have one of these tragedies--
inevitably, we will--
and you happen to be
so unfortunate enough
to know the person that's
being accused of the crime,
do us all a favor
and don't get on TV the next day
and be like, "I lived
next to him for 32 years.
I never could have
seen this coming."
Maybe you should be
locked up for six months.
I find nothing
more disrespectful.
You never could have
seen it coming?
I've never met anyone
in my entire life
that I couldn't
wrap my brain around the fact
that they are capable
of awful things.
Literally no one.
My mom
could blow up a nursery.
And if you put me
on TV the next day
and I was completely
honest with myself,
I'd be like,
"I can (bleep)ing see it.
"No, it makes sense.
"Sometimes when I was a kid,
I'd come home from school;
"she wasn't happy to see me.
I think she hates children."
Ladies, know that every man
you're sitting next to tonight,
if you could
get into their head
and see every thought
they have ever had,
you would immediately
pull out a gun
and blow your head off.
Because trust me,
they are capable of anything.
All day long,
every day,
nothing but twisted,
weird, awful shit
is just going
round and round and round.
And what do you do at night?
You snuggle up
next to him
because you're so happy
that you're not alone.
And I think
that says more about you.
By the way,
I do love this country.
We're the only place
with any diversity.
The entire planet's segregated.
If you look
at the Olympics,
you look at our, uh,
U.S. Gymnastics squad,
we have an Asian girl,
a white girl, a black girl.
Look at the Chinese squad.
Any guesses?
Did you guess
exclusively Chinese bitches?
Yeah, that's all
that's ever been on that team.
That's all
that will ever be on that team.
Then they wonder why they're not
getting golds anymore.
Well, you better get
a Harlem in China.
You think snapping together
iPads all day is tough?
It is.
Not as tough as it used to be.
Now they have suicide nets
around their building
so they can jump out,
bounce right back.
"Sorry, boss,
just needed some fresh air.
"Back to making Americans
more stuff?
You got it."
This is a tough joke to do
as a white comedian,
but here goes.
Because where
this country is now,
from where we came from
is pretty remarkable.
There's nothing more shameful
in our country's past
than slavery.
Okay, it's horrible.
But I've grown up
in a generation
where I've idolized black people
my entire life.
They are better
at everything.
So the fact
that we pulled off slavery--
I've already said
it's awful.
That's off the table.
I'm just saying
it's kind of neat.
I mean, at any point,
they could have been like,
"You know we can
just run away, right?
"And you
will never catch us.
And if you do, we will beat
the living shit out of you."
All right,
that's about how well
that joke should go over.
There's a fine line
between appreciating the sarcasm
and, "Ooh,
this feels like a rally."
And you did well.
That's a joke
I do not do everywhere.
That's a joke if the audience
gets a little too excited,
I shut it down.
You start hearing
a couple "yee-haws,"
trouble's a-brewing.
As soon as "yee-haw"
hits a certain octave,
hate crime in T minus
ten, nine...
The unemployment rate
in our country's around 6.5%.
I'm told
that's pretty good.
I could care less.
I wish a president
would have the balls
to say what I'm about to.
10% of Americans
don't deserve jobs.
Good night.
Like, that's a number
I can get my head around.
Of course,
there's exceptions to that.
That's not
who we're talking about.
But if you don't think
10% of Americans
are lazy pieces of shit,
then you
have never traveled anywhere.
Because the number
that blows me away
is that over 90% of Americans
have jobs.
Who the (bleep)
is hiring you morons?
Because I wouldn't.
The sense of entitlement?
Everyone thinks they deserve
more than they have.
No one's content.
Young kids--I won't even
talk to them anymore
because you parents
have done such a bang-up job.
If I meet one more kid
and ask him
what he wants to do
when he gets older
and he replies,
"I want to be famous like you,"
I'm gonna kick him
in his teeth.
You're never
gonna be famous.
Never.
You have no chance.
I didn't get here
because I work hard.
I have a gift
from God.
"Everybody gets their
15 minutes of fame, buddy."
Excuse me?
That's an average.
Yeah, that's zero
for you, you, you, you.
Zero, zero, zero,
zero, zero,
20 years,
zero, zero, zero, zero, zero.
You know what the unemployment
rate in China is?
Neither do I
because I'm American
and I'm (bleep)ing stupid.
It's got to be low, right?
Those people get up
at 3:00 in the morning
to practice the violin
for 4 1/2 hours,
then they work on math
for 12 hours,
and whatever's left,
they're ninjas.
If you think for one second,
we will ever catch up
with them,
you are out of your mind.
Just sit at home and be patient
until they take over.
Quite frankly,
they deserve our country.
Like, "Oh, shit,
China's here.
Do we take off our shoes?
How does this work?"
Would you like me to fix
all the environmental problems
on the planet?
I can do it.
The solution's simple.
You won't help.
That's the real problem.
Stop having kids.
You hear that?
That's not enough support.
That's why we have
to contaminate the water.
Because most of you
are not on board yet.
But that's all
that has to happen.
Just stop having kids
and then we can have
the greatest party
for the next 60 to 70 years
just pissing through
all the natural resources.
It would be amazing.
But what happens?
Some of you, you get fed up.
You're like,
"Uh, I hate my life.
You try."
"Look, it looks like me."
Selfish.
That's what I think
of your families...
selfish.
China has the right idea.
They're the smartest people
on the planet.
If they think
boys are more important
and two should be the cap,
good enough for me.
We have a TV show
in our country
called "19 and Counting."
That show should be called
"Wrecked Pussy."
Shocking that one of those kids
turned out to be a bad egg.
You mean you can't
keep your eye on 19 children?
You can't be a good parent
to three kids.
Do you know
how I know that?
Because my parents
had four.
What are you gonna do
when one of them asks,
"Who do you love more?"
"I love you all the same."
"Oh, really,
a 19-way tie?
(bleep) you, Mom."
And you deserve
that kind of language.
You can't sell
a 19-way tie to anyone.
You're gonna have to be honest
with those kids.
Like, "All right,
let's see.
"One of you's a predator,
so you're out.
"Not even sure
these three are mine anymore.
"No idea why the ginger's
staring at me.
"You have no shot.
"What, you think I enjoy dunking
you in a tub of sun block
"just to bring you outside,
you mutant?
"What is your X-Men power
besides killing every boner
in every room
you walk into?"
I tease, redheads.
You're just as pretty
as prettier people.
The reason so many people
in this country
keep having
litters of children
are all these fertility drugs.
You're not gonna like
this joke, heads up.
Know that if you have to take
a ton of fertility drugs
to get pregnant,
that is God just saying
you'd be an awful parent.
Yeah, maybe if you weren't
such a (bleep) in your 30s,
you'd be a mother
in your 40s.
Let's be clear.
I don't want
to do that joke.
I have to do that joke
because statistically
that will ruin
at least two people's night
this evening,
and for some horrible reason
which I can't explain,
that brings me joy
to know that there's
a lady here right now
just going,
"(bleep) him.
I deserve
a family too."
No, you don't.
You don't.
It's called the Americandream
for a reason.
It's unrealistic.
It's not gonna happen
for everyone.
You want a kid so bad,
adopt one, you selfish wench.
We're only halfway
through this joke.
Hang in there.
You ever seen an orphanage?
I ask this from time to time
because I know the answer.
Most people haven't.
It's a real problem
in this country.
There's kids
that need homes,
yet where they're located
is a goddamn mystery.
You'd think that'd be
a crucial part
of the orphanage's
business plan...
being very accessible.
Like, "Hey, hey,
we're over here."
Nobody's ever given me
directions to their place,
been like,
"You go to the orphanage.
"You take a right.
My house is right there.
You can't miss it."
Maybe this
is a better way.
You ever go to a grocery store
on a Saturday
and out front,
they have a pen set up
for rescue dogs?
I'm not imp--
I'm not implying
putting the orphans in.
I'm just pointing out
that that's also a real problem.
They were smart enough
to realize,
bring the problem to us,
shove it in our face,
makes the problem
go away.
Now set up a nicer pen.
Put it in the shade.
If you can afford
Whole Foods,
you can afford
another child.
And if you can't, at least
put some hand sanitizer on
and sit in there and play
for a couple minutes.
That's the very least
you could do.
You ever watch
your morning local news
where once a week,
somebody from the animal shelter
will bring a dog on?
Do you know why
they do it?
Huh?
Because it works.
Because bringing
that dog on TV
makes somebody at home go,
"You know what?
I could take that dog,"
and you saved his life.
Why aren't we doing that
with orphans?
I don't understand.
Honestly, like--like,
"This is Carlita.
"She's only five.
You can change her name.
"She doesn't give a shit.
"Come on, Carlita.
Can you dance, Carlita?"
And she's like...
She just wants
a home for Christmas.
You don't hear a lot
about the charity work I do,
and it's because
I don't do any.
You know what's better
than tax write-offs?
Keeping your money.
That's just a fun joke
to tell rich people.
It's not true.
I work with Make-A-Wish
all the time.
That's an incredible
experience,
uh, for me,
not the kids that are dying.
Yeah, they chose
to hang out with me.
They knew
what kind of jokes I told.
They were okay with it.
I don't pander onstage,
and I certainly don't
pander offstage.
And I'm telling you honestly,
these dying kids
have the best sense of humor
on this planet.
Their parents,
not so much,
but I don't care.
As soon as I meet them,
I start giving it to them.
Like, "Are you sure
you're dying?
You know
this is my weekend, right?"
And they're like,
"I'm dying."
I'm like,
"All right, let's go.
Don't cough on me,
mother(bleep)."
They want to be teased
like anybody else.
They can handle it.
Trust me, they've handled
a lot worse.
This kid I was hanging out with
last year a bunch was 17.
I'm like, "This is awesome
that you're dying now.
You got this in
right under the wire."
If you don't know,
the organization
is 18 and under.
So if you're dying of cancer
at 19, they're like...
"Hope your dreams are cheap."
If you're laughing
right now,
it's because
you're a good person
and you realize how absurd
that statement is,
to think
that they draw a hard line,
but it's funny to think
they might be
holding their doors shut.
"You can't get in, kid.
You're too old."
And they don't even
have to hold tight
because they kids
are so weak
because the disease
is winning.
Don't feel bad
for this kid.
The first thing he said
when he met me was--
he told me
I was his third choice.
And to this day,
I don't know
if he was (bleep) kidding
or not.
That's not cool.
I'm healthy.
I'm gonna live
a long time.
I don't need that
noodling around up there.
And if it makes you feel
any better
laughing at these jokes,
know that he is cured
and healthy now.
He's not.
He's dead.
But if some people need that,
let them have it, right?
"Oh, he's okay?
Oh, good."
"You know me.
I can't accept life."
That's a perfect gauge
for if we would ever
hang out
in a social setting.
Know that if you've ever said
any form of this statement,
we would not.
"Uh, there's nothing funny
about blank."
Any form of that,
know that I hate you
to your core.
Because I,
along with some of you,
respectfully disagree.
You can accept that things
are tragic and awful
and still have
a sense of humor about them.
It doesn't make you
a bad person,
despite what some blog
may say.
"Oh, there's nothing funny
about AIDS.
There's nothing funny
about rape."
Uh, yes there is
if you write a good joke.
There's funny things
about it.
And some of you
may be aware
I took a ton of bad press
for making that statement
verbatim.
And then a women
screamed at me,
"There is nothing funny
about rape."
And I've never
defended myself publicly,
despite misquotes.
Mainly because I'm rich.
I'm like, "(bleep) it.
"I make my living
saying shocking things.
There's consequences.
I can accept that."
And people
wrote me horrible stuff.
Like, "Hope your daughter
gets raped one day,
and we'll see
how funny you think it is."
Well, first of all, she'd have
to survive the abortion.
Talk about two strikes
against a kid, huh?
Yeah, I appreciate
your well wishes, kind soul.
It's a joke,
and it's my choice to have it.
Yeah, this is where
the feminists are usually torn,
because we're on the same side
on most issues.
Abortion?
Over here,
you have a lifetime of stress
and inevitable disappointment.
And over here,
you have freedom.
Well, how much
does freedom cost?
A couple nights' sleep
and around $750.
Seems extremely reasonable.
If nobody is looking,
I will take freedom.
"But they have fingernails
at 14 days."
Yeah, and I clip them.
I'm pretty sure Dyson
makes an attachment.
Guys, it's a great product
that never loses suction
due to the engineering.
Now, in the interest
of full disclosure,
I'm sponsored by Dyson.
I get a couple thousand bucks
for the plug.
They're like,
"Is there any place in your act
where you could fit in
our product?"
I'm like, "I've got
the perfect home for it.
Quick question, what's your
company's stance on fetuses?"
"We (bleep)ing hate them."
"All right,
let's move some units."
I don't know what show you
thought you bought tickets to,
but I assure you
this one's not getting softer.
All right.
"There's nothing funny
about child molestation."
All right,
then don't hang out with me.
Yeah, because
if you tell me a funny joke
about a priest
diddling a boy,
I'm not gonna be like,
"What is wrong with you?
Don't you know how serious
that issue is?"
I'm gonna laugh
because I'm not 11 or Catholic.
I don't give a (bleep).
I can separate
between reality and jokes.
Who in here
at one point in their life
hasn't laughed at a
Michael Jackson pedophile joke?
Let's see
if you laugh at this one.
Did you know,
last year,
dead Michael Jackson
made $180 million
thanks to
his new show in Vegas?
Which is amazing
if you get a chance to see it.
There's a hologram
of Michael.
It sings
and dances the hits.
And for an extra $500 a pop,
you can go backstage
and watch him
try to ghost-(bleep) your kid.
Uh, you're laughing
at pedophilia.
Look at that.
Oh, and you can't
even be offended by the joke
because ghost-(bleep)'s
not real.
But I'm sure
there's one dingbat in here,
"Yes, it is.
"I had a friend
that was molested by a spirit.
#Ghost(bleep)IsReal."
I'll laugh at the real thing
from time to time.
How about when Sandusky
was asked point-blank
on national television if he's
sexually attracted to boys
and he waited
around 16 seconds to apply,
and I quote,
"Eh"?
If you don't think
I was at home pissing myself...
Like, "Oh, did he just waffle
on that softball question?"
"Eh."
Ask me if I'm
sexually attracted to kids.
I'm not.
That's how long you should wait
to answer that question.
You don't
mull it over for a bit.
You certainly don't
eyeball your lawyer.
"I wonder how he wants me
to answer this one."
You come out swinging
in a hurry,
or you deserve
to burn in hell.
He said the only thing
he's ever been guilty of
is, he liked to put his hand
on boys' legs.
I've heard enough.
On that alone,
you should be in jail forever.
You want to hug your son
longer than three seconds,
you should be
in jail forever.
Yeah, my dad
didn't hug me very much.
He wasn't the best father,
but he didn't (bleep) children,
and I'll take it.
I don't believe he has.
That's my biggest fear
in life,
that I do that joke
and people are cheering
and there's one guy in here,
"He (bleep) me."
And I'm like...
I am sorry.
I am 99.8% positive
he hasn't.
He hasn't heard
this joke yet.
And my gut instinct is,
he's not gonna like it.
But if he gets too upset,
I'll be like,
"What are you hiding?"
How many minutes of "Hoarders"
can you watch
before you have to start
cleaning your place?
Ugh.
Who are these people?
I can't watch it.
I'm a minimalist.
I still want to be on the show,
a "Hoarders" episode,
as a minimalist,
where the entire episode
is me struggling
with the one knickknack
that's on my mantel.
And they're like,
"You got to get rid of it."
And I'm like, "I can't."
With this many people
in here,
guaranteed one of you
is a hoarder.
And I'm not looking
to out you,
and I don't want
your friends to either.
But this is what needs
to happen.
Tomorrow morning, okay,
wake up early.
That's gonna be
new for you
because you're
a piece of shit.
That's fair, right?
You think hoarders
get up early?
Uh, they do not.
They sleep in.
They wait till
the thrift store's open,
and they pray there's
new bric-a-brac on the shelves.
Get up early.
Head on down to The Home Depot.
You're gonna go
to the equipment rental center.
Okay?
Get yourself a wood chipper.
It's gonna run you
around $175 for a half day.
On your way out,
grab a couple day laborers.
When you get home,
gas it up.
Have them
throw you into it.
Because you're
a disgusting person
and no one likes you.
And by the lack of people
laughing right now,
my guess is, there's
more than one hoarder in here.
"But I love cats."
We know; that's why
we want you in the chipper.
Nobody can breathe
in your place.
You ever go into, like,
a cute local caf
and an artist has their work
for sale on the walls?
Has anybody ever not walked up,
looked at the price, and gone,
"Who the (bleep)
do they think they are?"
Just once, I'd like to walk
into somebody's home
and be like,
"Wow, that is a beautiful piece.
Where did you get it?"
And they're like,
"Oh, funny story.
"I was getting a spinach wrap
the other day for lunch,
"and I had $750
burning a hole in my pocket,
"and I was like, 'Hey, guys,
unbolt this from your urinal
and get it
into my living room.'"
Don't put stickers
on your car.
Despite what you think
they say,
know they read,
"I'm poor."
No one cares
who you cheer for
or what you believe in.
Just drive a little faster.
And God forbid
if you lost a loved one
and you think the best way
to memorialize him
is by turning
your Honda Civic
into a moving tribute.
Don't.
Because the only thing
that makes me want to do
is T-bone you
so you and Junebug
can finally be together again.
Like my morning commute
isn't depressing enough?
Now I'm stuck behind you
and your word problem,
trying to figure out
how old this shithead was
in the first place.
There's not enough
information.
I got to pull up
next to you.
"Was he a Gemini
by chance?
"15, too soon.
Speed it up.
Some of us aren't dead."
Don't text and drive.
It's the law.
Yeah, way to fast-track
the big issues in this country.
Do you know what
you are allowed to do?
Write a letter longhand
while driving.
Completely legal.
I would argue just as dangerous,
if not more.
Do I have to be a martyr
for this issue?
I'll do it.
Get on the freeway,
like, "Dear Grandma,
It's been a while."
"Winter is coming."
Have you seen the campaign
to stop texting and driving
where they show you
real final texts?
"Be right..."
They're like,
"Was it worth it?"
I don't know.
Were you trying to get laid
at 3:00 in the morning?
I'm not gonna judge you.
Maybe it was.
Maybe you finally had sex
with that one person
you've been chasing
your entire life
and you can't wait
to text your buddy.
"You're never gonna believe
who I..."
and then boom.
Congratulations.
You went out on top.
Yeah, I promise you
life wasn't gonna get better
after that moment.
Best-case scenario,
six months from now,
you're sending her texts.
"Yeah, Thai food's fine.
Whatever."
You can't text and drive,
but you can have
a three-course Taco Bell meal
in your lap
at 2:00 in the morning?
Everyone knows
you're drunk as shit.
You ought to be arrested
as soon as you place the order.
Why do people make a big deal
about last meals in prison?
"What do you want
for your last meal?"
"Uh, I don't know.
I kind of lost my appetite.
Don't know if you heard,
gonna be murdered tomorrow."
"Well, you have
to eat something."
"Make it a burrito.
"You're gonna
clean some shit up.
"Yeah, now neither one of us
are looking forward
to tomorrow."
I was watching
one of those "locked up" shows.
I saw a guy that was shanked
682 times.
Now, let's all agree
that that's a lot.
Do you have any idea
how long it would take
to stab somebody 682 times?
I did the math.
Don't rack your brain.
At two stabs per second,
which I believe
is a doable rate...
That's still
5 minutes 45 seconds-ish
of stabbing someone.
That's not even
factoring in getting tired,
having to switch to your
nondominant hand, like...
Here's the crazy part.
He lived.
Yeah, there's your upside
for obesity, America.
Why don't you
get back in line,
hit that buffet
one more time
on the off chance
you get stabbed 682 times?
Like...
[huffing]
"Walk it off."
Off topic,
if you've ever bragged
about doing
a half marathon,
you can shut
the (bleep) up forever.
When did that
even become a thing?
A half marathon?
Ooh.
I just finished reading
half a book.
Yeah, big, thick one.
Got to the middle,
set it down.
I'll never
look at it again.
I can bench press
around 450 pounds
one half time.
Just the down part.
The point is,
until you've shit yourself
and your nipples
are bleeding at mile 26,
you've accomplished nothing
and no one wants
to hear about it.
By the way,
has enough time passed
in this country
that we can openly and honestly
talk about the great things
Osama bin Laden did for us?
And don't act
like he didn't do anything good.
How about the fact
that we immediately know
September is nine?
That's not nothing.
That's not noth--
Do you remember
what we used to do?
January, February,
March, April, May, June,
July, August...
nine.
Honey, it's nine.
I use it for August.
9/11 minus one...
eight.
How about the fact
that every time you take
your wife or your girlfriend
to the airport,
you no longer have to walk her
all the way to the gate?
Yeah, maybe next time
you do a drop-off,
you give him a quick,
"Thanks, Osama."
"Hope you're enjoying that good
young tight stuff
they hand out up there."
Some of you
are too young to remember
pre-9/11 airport drop-offs,
but they were the worst.
Your girlfriend's like,
"Can you give me
a ride to the airport?"
And you're like,
"Yeah, I'd love to.
"Because there's never been
a service invented
"that would
take you to the airport.
What time's your flight?"
"4:15 a.m."
"Perfect.
"No, I was gonna get up
at 2:00 anyway,
"so that works out.
"No, you know me;
2:00 rolls around,
and my body's like
'Start your day; it's 2:00.'"
Then you're driving
to the airport;
she's like,
"You gonna come inside?"
"Yeah, why wouldn't I?
"Parking there's so convenient.
"Besides, I like to start
every day with a two-mile
"stress-filled sprint walk.
"Oh, your flight's delayed
an hour and a half?
"Perfect, I'll get a Cinnabon,
get diabetes
before you take off."
Do you remember?
Some guys wouldn't even leave
after they boarded.
They would just stand
at a window
waving at a machine
backing up
because they were so happy
to finally be alone.
Now what do you get to do
thanks to Osama?
Barely slow down
and kick them to the curb.
Yeah, I don't know
about you,
but I say
that's worth a tower.
Not two--not two.
Not two.
Whoa.
That was close.
No, no, no,
rightfully so.
"I (bleep) thought
he meant both of them.
"He didn't.
He only meant one.
He cleared it up."
"Which one?"
"Does it matter?"
"To my uncle."
There you go;
now everyone's offended.
If I can take a--
a quick moment to be sincere,
and then I'll go back
to being an asshole,
know that I
appreciate this,
uh, that this isn't lost on me.
I didn't have dreams of grandeur
getting into comedy.
Uh, it's overwhelming.
Uh, thank you for coming out.
I know that eventually
this will come
to a crashing halt.
I'm not gonna stop
saying awful things.
Eventually I'll say
the one thing where it's like,
"Oop, there goes his career.
Wow, he thought
he could say that, huh?"
I actually wrote
a career suicide note.
Would you like
to hear it?
"Dear Jews..."
That's all I've got
so far.
This--right?
Right now, people are like,
"Oh, (bleep), he's doing it.
Here we go. God."
I don't meet fans
after the shows
mainly because
I don't want to.
For good reason.
I have a very large
social media presence
to pat myself on the back
about things that don't matter.
On average, I receive around
1,200 death threats a week.
Yeah, no,
it's fun standing up here.
Sorry I don't want
to shake hands with the guy
that wrote, "Die, [bleep], die.
#YoureA(bleep)."
"I'm a fan,
I was kidding."
I apologize sincerely
about ticket prices,
but you have to understand,
I can't risk performing
in front of the type of people
that can afford $10.
And as hard as that joke is
for some of you to swallow,
there's other people in here
that are like,
"I actually appreciate him
saying that
"because I was like,
'This is way too much money,'
"but now that
I think about it, yeah,
I wouldn't stand in front
of those monsters either."
You can get lucky
and find a ten.
Like, "Oh,
I'm gonna murder someone."
People accuse me
of everything online.
Misogynistic,
I get that.
No, I'm just
a male comic with dumb jokes.
If I was a female comic,
the jokes would be
completely opposite
and empowering,
and the crowds
would be a lot smaller.
Yeah, 'cause you don't
support your own, ladies.
That's on you.
Racist--
I don't like hearing that.
I never, never
use the "N" word...
into a microphone...
anymore.
I'm so aware
of social issues.
Even when I'm home alone
doing laundry,
I won't use
the word "colors."
Yeah, I do
a load of whites
and a load of darkies,
and that's it.
That's it.
Because I want to be
on the right side of history.
I'm not gay.
I have a--
I have a girlfriend,
not by choice.
I blame Hollywood
for ruining every relationship
that I've ever been in.
What you don't realize
is how negatively
they affect
your relationships.
Everyone's aware
of the liberal media bias
in the news,
but what about the way
they portray couples
in every sitcom,
where there's a dumb husband
chasing his wife around
the whole episode like,
"I want to have sex,"
and she's never in the mood?
They just hammer
that stereotype home
that men always
want to have sex
and women never do.
Let's get this
out of the way right now.
Women want to have sex
way more often than men.
I assure you, ladies,
this is not the perspective
you're going to enjoy.
I don't know if you're new
to my comedy or not.
I have
a very gender-specific slant
that I ride pretty hard.
Because the reality is,
whether you want
to admit it or not,
no man's ever
loved you more
or been more physically
attracted to you
than he was the first time
he had sex with you.
And from that moment,
it goes down.
Okay, now, don't look at him
right now
and make the evening
uncomfortable.
"Is that true?"
And then he has to be like...
"No.
I'm pretty sure he's queer.
I don't care
what he says."
It's true
100% of the time.
How fast it dives
is case by case.
It doesn't have to fall
off a cliff immediately.
We've all been there
when it does.
Can you be happily married
for 50 years?
Of course you can,
but know that for him,
every time you have sex,
it's going down a notch.
Men die ten years earlier
because we (bleep) want to.
Don't make him
feel inadequate.
Don't challenge his drive.
"I'm with the only guy
in the world
that doesn't want
to have sex all the time."
Uh, no, you're not.
When I'm in a relationship,
I can go two to three weeks
without thinking about sex.
When I'm single,
I need to masturbate
twice a day
before I step outside,
or I will
sexually assault someone.
I assure you
his drive is fine.
It's the product
that's sour.
Is that too harsh?
Your snatch has spoiled.
Is that softer?
And I know
what your response should be.
"Well, then
maybe you shouldn't be
in a relationship
if that's how you feel."
But that's not
how I'm wired.
I like to be
in a relationship...at first.
And I won't cheat on you,
and I won't break up.
So every time I fall in love,
I'm like,
"(bleep), here goes
three years."
I don't even understand
how real dating sites exist.
Whenever I'm
in a relationship,
my dream scenario
is that I come home from work,
open the door,
and catch her blowing someone.
That's not a big laugh.
But notice,
there are people laughing.
Do you know why?
Because for the first time
in a long time,
there's guys in here going,
"I'm not alone."
That they can understand
that twisted logic.
They just come home,
open the door,
and there she is just...
"You're home early."
And you're like,
"Oh, shit.
You can't do that.
I'm out of here."
Yeah, no,
we don't even talk anymore.
I'm just
magically happy again.
I grew up in Florida.
I'm a die-hard Dolphins fan.
Cheering for the Dolphins
is like
getting tested for an STD.
I think I could win,
but I know I don't deserve to.
I'm actually
one of the few people
that's a die-hard Heat fan
that's glad LeBron
went back to Cleveland.
If you've
never been to Cleveland,
congratulations.
Cleveland's one
of the few places
ISIS could fly over
and they'd be like,
"Oh, my goodness,
what happened down there?
"No one
should have to live like that.
"Is there anything we can do
to help them
get back on their feet?"
Let's just put it
in perspective for you.
They crucified this kid
for leaving.
You forget he was a kid
'cause he looked 40
when he was 8.
But he left when he was
a 25-year-old billionaire.
And he's not even
from Cleveland.
He's from Akron.
That's a shittier city
90 miles away,
and--wait for it--
he's from the shitty part
of the shittier city.
And he just wanted
to play basketball
someplace else,
and they killed him.
I grew up on a private
golf course in Florida.
If I had a billion dollars
when I was 25 years old,
I would shit
on this stage mid-set.
Just shit,
stare at you people,
continue my act,
like, "Hey, pick that up."
You'd be like,
"What? I'm not picking that up."
And I'd say, "What'd you say?"
And then I'd throw
a million dollars at your head.
And you'd be like, "God damn it,
I'm picking this up, aren't I?"
I would be
out of my mind.
Or when people
get on Justin Bieber
for drinking
and speeding in his car.
Yeah, a 21-year-old
billionaire.
You want to know
how I would act
if I had that kind of money
at that age?
I would rollerblade
around Los Angeles,
jerking off
on hot chicks.
None of you
would have an issue with it.
You'd be like
"That's Daniel, ah."
"He's only 21.
"He hasn't
figured things out yet.
"He's worth
a billion dollars.
That's pressure
that I can't relate to."
My opening line
in New Orleans,
beautiful theater like this,
nice ovation.
I walk onstage.
The first thing
out of my mouth
before thank you,
"(bleep) the Saints.
"I'm not gonna pander
to your city
just because Mother Nature
gave you a much-needed bath."
Trust me when I tell you
no one in here
has ever experienced
a wave of hatred
like I have...
as if the levees
had broke again.
They lost their mind.
They couldn't even
comprehend it quick enough.
"What did he say?
I will murder him
where he stands."
But then they had
the inner dialogue.
"That was his first joke.
We paid a lot.
Go on."
And the only reason
I say things like that anyway
is because backstage,
I have friends like,
"I bet you won't say it."
And apparently
$5 still means something to me.
I'm like, "What? You don't think
I'll ruin the show?
Watch this."
I hope the world ends
in my lifetime.
I want to see it.
I don't want it
to end tonight.
And I know
the hand that I was dealt.
When shit hits the fan,
I don't make good decisions.
I die hour one.
"Hey, we need
to go north."
"I don't know
where north is.
I'm gonna
stay here, guys."
Dead.
Some of you, you're gonna
survive for a while.
Good for you.
Sizing people up
as quick as you can.
"Do you know
how to fly a plane?"
"No."
Knife to the throat.
"Out of my way.
You're useless."
That's what I've learned
from watching movies.
If anybody ever comes
running up to you screaming,
"Do you know
how to fly a plane?"
Muster up
some courage in a hurry.
"Yep."
Nobody screaming, "Do you
know how to fly a plane?"
Doesn't have horrible things
happening right behind them.
Just jump
in that cockpit.
Just start
flipping switches.
"Calm down.
My plane's a little different.
"Have you out of here
in no time.
"Does this have a mirror?
No.
Okay, that was a joke, haha."
That's how you survive
a little bit longer.
I watch any TV show
with Alaska in the title
just so I can see
what a real man
is supposed to look like.
Or Bear Grylls?
I love him.
A British Green Beret
giving us survival tactics
while we sit
on the couch and snack.
Come on,
who's that show for?
I can rule out
half the planet.
I don't know a woman
that can do one pull-up,
let alone climb a vine
up a waterfall
to eat a bat.
Yeah, heads up, ladies,
you're gonna die at the bottom.
I'm going up there
to eat bat.
Do you know
how to eat a bat?
I saw this episode.
I'll tell you.
It's not as hard as you think.
First thing
you have to do,
catch a (bleep) bat.
I'm out.
Catch a bat?
Yeah, I can't kill a fly
in under three hours
in my house with equipment.
You want me to blindly walk
into a scary cave
and barehand
a flying AIDS rat?
That's literally
all he does.
He just walks in and just
snatches it by the feet
or hooves or whatever
the (bleep) bats have.
And close your eyes, PETA.
Here comes the tough part.
Then he just bashes it
over a rock
'cause he wants
his snack tender.
Meanwhile his camera crew's
just laughing,
eating Luna bars, like,
"What the (bleep)
is wrong with him?
"Doesn't this stinky
Brit realize
"American reality television
is fake?
"We can pause the camera
and put granola and pudding down
"and be like, 'You have
to eat your bat to survive.'"
He's chewing on a real bat;
he's like,
"Uh-oh, this could be
a poisonous bat."
What the (bleep)
did you just say?
It's 11:30 at night.
I'm trying to go to bed.
Now I have to get up
and Google what bats are edible?
"If there's
a faint yellow diamond
under the left eye,
be wary."
I'm looking at women
that aren't laughing.
My guess is,
you're hung up on the part
where I said
you can't do a pull-up
and you checked out?
"I can do a pull-up."
Yeah, and there's a reason
you're here alone.
Your shoulders are gross
and nobody likes you.
You should knock it off
with the CrossFit.
Nobody needs
to flip a tire in 2015.
We all have AAA.
You haven't had your period
in four years for a reason.
You're growing a dick.
Now--
now lighten up.
May I open the door for you?
"Nope, I've got it."
[blows forcefully]
"Woman."
You're the superior sex.
I don't care.
You ever get road rage?
That's embarrassing.
I've had road rage before
and won,
and I've had road rage
and lost.
I'm gonna tell you
two different stories.
You can determine
which is which.
And the first one,
I want to point out,
I was pretty young
at the time.
And the only reason
I want you to know that
is because I don't approve
of what I said.
But I had just moved
out here to Los Angeles.
I was in traffic in my Acura
with the sunroof open.
Yeah, I was doing pretty well
from day one.
Started from the upper-middlish.
Now I'm here.
I was yelling
through my sunroof
at a guy
in a delivery truck,
and I don't remember
what we were fighting over.
But at one point,
I may have yelled,
"That's why you have
to work on Saturday,
you piece of shit."
And then he spit
a mouthful of Doritos onto me.
So I lost, right?
If a man spits a mouthful
of Doritos on your face,
you have two options.
You can, one,
get a machete
and murder everyone
in his family.
Or, two,
you can close your sunroof
because that psycho
is not bluffing.
I had chewed-up Dorito
on my lip.
I can still feel it
right now.
I didn't have any napkins
in my glove compartment.
That was
over 15 years ago.
You think there's napkins
in my glove compartment today?
You're goddamn right
there is.
Every time
I go to a restaurant,
I take a big "(bleep) you
to the environment" stack.
And they're like, "Hey,
don't take so many napkins."
I'm like, "I had chewed-up
Dorito from another man
on my face."
Now, here's a time more recently
that I had road rage.
I think I handled things
a little more maturely.
Again, I was
in Los Angeles.
I was on
the 10 Freeway eastbound,
middle lane--
don't know what that says
about my personality,
but that's where you'll find me.
I'm not
an aggressive driver.
Drive a station wagon.
I was doing nothing wrong.
I saw a car
changing lanes,
driving like a maniac,
cutting people off.
He was coming toward me.
He wanted me
to get out of the way.
I chose not to.
I'm like, "(bleep) it,
slam into me."
He didn't,
but he got on my bumper,
and he was irritated,
and he was flipping me off.
I notice he has
a wedding ring on,
and his wife's
in the front seat.
And at that moment,
oh, I got real confident.
Because I'm like,
"There's no way
"you're gonna go
to the level of crazy
"that I'm about to,
not with your wife
sitting next to you."
Like, at some point, she's gonna
have to be the voice of reason.
Like, "Stop it, Phillip.
Just drive. I'm scared."
So I got real brave, right?
I'm flipping him off.
I'm brake checking.
I'm holding
the windshield wiper fluid on.
Like--
is that your move?
Yeah, oh,
very passive-aggressive.
I've cleared my calendar.
I'm doing nothing
for the rest of my life
except irritating
this asshole behind me.
We're going about
ten miles an hour on the freeway
at this point,
and he won't pass me.
I kind of respect it.
I'm out of fluid.
My exit's coming up.
So I get off the freeway,
and then he follows me
right off the freeway.
And at that moment,
the real Daniel
came crashing back,
where I'm like,
"Aw, shit.
"You were supposed
to keep driving.
"That's not your wife.
That's a hooker you're gonna
murder, isn't it?"
Like--
You got to think fast.
What do you do?
Well, I know
this exit.
It's the Robertson exit,
if you want to verify it.
There's a very large
black homeless guy at the bottom
with a sign
that just said "Food."
I aggressive drove
toward him
with this guy
right on my bumper,
slammed on my brakes
to a dead stop
so he's pinned behind me,
can't get around.
I roll my window down.
I give the guy $20.
I say, "You need to go crazy
on the car behind me."
I swear,
he doesn't even hesitate.
Both hands on the hood,
cocks his head,
starts screaming at the guy.
Meanwhile I'm like,
"Oh, shit,
he's gonna murder him too."
Now I got
blood on my hands,
but I don't really care
'cause it's a homeless guy.
And I'm like,
"It's probably not even
the worst decision
he's made today."
So I take off.
And the driver shoots me
one last look,
and I appreciate it because
he certainly didn't have to.
But he gave me the, uh,
"You won."
And I've never
felt better about anything
I have ever done
in my entire life.
You know,
for the rest of his life,
every time he gets
in the car with his wife,
she's gonna be like,
"You remember the one time
"with the homeless guy, uh?
Maybe I should drive.
That's all I'm saying, hothead."
So remember that
next time you lose your cool
behind the wheel.
Calm down.
Find a homeless person.
Pay them to do it for you.
Way safer, and you feel good
about yourself.
And the only part of that story
I embellished
even the slightest bit
was the amount of money
that I gave him,
because if you think
I'm giving out 20s,
you're (bleep) crazier
than he was.
Thank you very much.
Good night.
I don't mind
the sun sometimes
The images it shows
I can taste you on my lips
And smell you in my clothes
Cinnamon and sugary
I don't mind
the sun sometimes
The images it shows
I can taste you on my lips
And smell you in my clothes
Cinnamon and sugary
Some will die
in hot pursuit
In fiery auto crashes
Some will die
in hot pursuit
While sifting
through my ashes
Some will fall
in love with life
And drink it
from a fountain
That is pouring
like an avalanche
Coming down the mountain
I don't mind
the sun sometimes
The images it shows
I can taste you
on my lips
And smell you
in my clothes
Cinnamon and sugary
And softly spoken lies
You never know
just how you look
Through other people's eyes
Wow.
Thank you.
Ugh, believe it or not,
that gets old.
It is great to be here
in America.
Oh, yeah.
The greatest country
in the world...
if you haven't
traveled a lot.
Do we have to constantly scream
we're number one?
It's always
the people that live
in the most boring parts
of this country
that scream the loudest.
People in Kansas, "We're the
greatest country in the world."
It's like,
do you guys have Internet there?
You ever seen
a photo of Fiji?
I've never been to Fiji,
but I've seen photos.
It looks pretty amazing.
It's hard to think
we're better than that.
We're top ten.
Maybe if we started
screaming that every day,
maybe terrorists
would stop trying
to saw our heads off.
"We're top ten."
And they'd be like,
"That's fair."
"It was that number one stuff
that was getting old."
America's basically turned
into one of these factories
where we just
have a sign up like,
"It's been 22 days
since our last horrible thing."
Then it's like, "Oop,
all right, rip it down.
We're back at zero again."
These things
just keep happening,
you know, whether
it's Ferguson or Baltimore.
I can solve racist cops.
That's an easy fix.
But nobody comes to me
for the answers.
You want to get rid
of that forever?
How about this?
Only black people
should be allowed to be cops.
Boom, problem solved.
And if any of you
have issue with this,
it's because you're racist.
"Well, what about white people?"
White people
can be firefighters.
We're more outdoorsy.
It makes sense.
White people, firefighters.
Black people, cops.
Who wants tickets
to the softball game now?
Yeah, it's gonna get
pretty tense.
Might want to put in
a mercy rule.
And the next time
we have one of these tragedies--
inevitably, we will--
and you happen to be
so unfortunate enough
to know the person that's
being accused of the crime,
do us all a favor
and don't get on TV the next day
and be like, "I lived
next to him for 32 years.
I never could have
seen this coming."
Maybe you should be
locked up for six months.
I find nothing
more disrespectful.
You never could have
seen it coming?
I've never met anyone
in my entire life
that I couldn't
wrap my brain around the fact
that they are capable
of awful things.
Literally no one.
My mom
could blow up a nursery.
And if you put me
on TV the next day
and I was completely
honest with myself,
I'd be like,
"I can (bleep)ing see it.
"No, it makes sense.
"Sometimes when I was a kid,
I'd come home from school;
"she wasn't happy to see me.
I think she hates children."
Ladies, know that every man
you're sitting next to tonight,
if you could
get into their head
and see every thought
they have ever had,
you would immediately
pull out a gun
and blow your head off.
Because trust me,
they are capable of anything.
All day long,
every day,
nothing but twisted,
weird, awful shit
is just going
round and round and round.
And what do you do at night?
You snuggle up
next to him
because you're so happy
that you're not alone.
And I think
that says more about you.
By the way,
I do love this country.
We're the only place
with any diversity.
The entire planet's segregated.
If you look
at the Olympics,
you look at our, uh,
U.S. Gymnastics squad,
we have an Asian girl,
a white girl, a black girl.
Look at the Chinese squad.
Any guesses?
Did you guess
exclusively Chinese bitches?
Yeah, that's all
that's ever been on that team.
That's all
that will ever be on that team.
Then they wonder why they're not
getting golds anymore.
Well, you better get
a Harlem in China.
You think snapping together
iPads all day is tough?
It is.
Not as tough as it used to be.
Now they have suicide nets
around their building
so they can jump out,
bounce right back.
"Sorry, boss,
just needed some fresh air.
"Back to making Americans
more stuff?
You got it."
This is a tough joke to do
as a white comedian,
but here goes.
Because where
this country is now,
from where we came from
is pretty remarkable.
There's nothing more shameful
in our country's past
than slavery.
Okay, it's horrible.
But I've grown up
in a generation
where I've idolized black people
my entire life.
They are better
at everything.
So the fact
that we pulled off slavery--
I've already said
it's awful.
That's off the table.
I'm just saying
it's kind of neat.
I mean, at any point,
they could have been like,
"You know we can
just run away, right?
"And you
will never catch us.
And if you do, we will beat
the living shit out of you."
All right,
that's about how well
that joke should go over.
There's a fine line
between appreciating the sarcasm
and, "Ooh,
this feels like a rally."
And you did well.
That's a joke
I do not do everywhere.
That's a joke if the audience
gets a little too excited,
I shut it down.
You start hearing
a couple "yee-haws,"
trouble's a-brewing.
As soon as "yee-haw"
hits a certain octave,
hate crime in T minus
ten, nine...
The unemployment rate
in our country's around 6.5%.
I'm told
that's pretty good.
I could care less.
I wish a president
would have the balls
to say what I'm about to.
10% of Americans
don't deserve jobs.
Good night.
Like, that's a number
I can get my head around.
Of course,
there's exceptions to that.
That's not
who we're talking about.
But if you don't think
10% of Americans
are lazy pieces of shit,
then you
have never traveled anywhere.
Because the number
that blows me away
is that over 90% of Americans
have jobs.
Who the (bleep)
is hiring you morons?
Because I wouldn't.
The sense of entitlement?
Everyone thinks they deserve
more than they have.
No one's content.
Young kids--I won't even
talk to them anymore
because you parents
have done such a bang-up job.
If I meet one more kid
and ask him
what he wants to do
when he gets older
and he replies,
"I want to be famous like you,"
I'm gonna kick him
in his teeth.
You're never
gonna be famous.
Never.
You have no chance.
I didn't get here
because I work hard.
I have a gift
from God.
"Everybody gets their
15 minutes of fame, buddy."
Excuse me?
That's an average.
Yeah, that's zero
for you, you, you, you.
Zero, zero, zero,
zero, zero,
20 years,
zero, zero, zero, zero, zero.
You know what the unemployment
rate in China is?
Neither do I
because I'm American
and I'm (bleep)ing stupid.
It's got to be low, right?
Those people get up
at 3:00 in the morning
to practice the violin
for 4 1/2 hours,
then they work on math
for 12 hours,
and whatever's left,
they're ninjas.
If you think for one second,
we will ever catch up
with them,
you are out of your mind.
Just sit at home and be patient
until they take over.
Quite frankly,
they deserve our country.
Like, "Oh, shit,
China's here.
Do we take off our shoes?
How does this work?"
Would you like me to fix
all the environmental problems
on the planet?
I can do it.
The solution's simple.
You won't help.
That's the real problem.
Stop having kids.
You hear that?
That's not enough support.
That's why we have
to contaminate the water.
Because most of you
are not on board yet.
But that's all
that has to happen.
Just stop having kids
and then we can have
the greatest party
for the next 60 to 70 years
just pissing through
all the natural resources.
It would be amazing.
But what happens?
Some of you, you get fed up.
You're like,
"Uh, I hate my life.
You try."
"Look, it looks like me."
Selfish.
That's what I think
of your families...
selfish.
China has the right idea.
They're the smartest people
on the planet.
If they think
boys are more important
and two should be the cap,
good enough for me.
We have a TV show
in our country
called "19 and Counting."
That show should be called
"Wrecked Pussy."
Shocking that one of those kids
turned out to be a bad egg.
You mean you can't
keep your eye on 19 children?
You can't be a good parent
to three kids.
Do you know
how I know that?
Because my parents
had four.
What are you gonna do
when one of them asks,
"Who do you love more?"
"I love you all the same."
"Oh, really,
a 19-way tie?
(bleep) you, Mom."
And you deserve
that kind of language.
You can't sell
a 19-way tie to anyone.
You're gonna have to be honest
with those kids.
Like, "All right,
let's see.
"One of you's a predator,
so you're out.
"Not even sure
these three are mine anymore.
"No idea why the ginger's
staring at me.
"You have no shot.
"What, you think I enjoy dunking
you in a tub of sun block
"just to bring you outside,
you mutant?
"What is your X-Men power
besides killing every boner
in every room
you walk into?"
I tease, redheads.
You're just as pretty
as prettier people.
The reason so many people
in this country
keep having
litters of children
are all these fertility drugs.
You're not gonna like
this joke, heads up.
Know that if you have to take
a ton of fertility drugs
to get pregnant,
that is God just saying
you'd be an awful parent.
Yeah, maybe if you weren't
such a (bleep) in your 30s,
you'd be a mother
in your 40s.
Let's be clear.
I don't want
to do that joke.
I have to do that joke
because statistically
that will ruin
at least two people's night
this evening,
and for some horrible reason
which I can't explain,
that brings me joy
to know that there's
a lady here right now
just going,
"(bleep) him.
I deserve
a family too."
No, you don't.
You don't.
It's called the Americandream
for a reason.
It's unrealistic.
It's not gonna happen
for everyone.
You want a kid so bad,
adopt one, you selfish wench.
We're only halfway
through this joke.
Hang in there.
You ever seen an orphanage?
I ask this from time to time
because I know the answer.
Most people haven't.
It's a real problem
in this country.
There's kids
that need homes,
yet where they're located
is a goddamn mystery.
You'd think that'd be
a crucial part
of the orphanage's
business plan...
being very accessible.
Like, "Hey, hey,
we're over here."
Nobody's ever given me
directions to their place,
been like,
"You go to the orphanage.
"You take a right.
My house is right there.
You can't miss it."
Maybe this
is a better way.
You ever go to a grocery store
on a Saturday
and out front,
they have a pen set up
for rescue dogs?
I'm not imp--
I'm not implying
putting the orphans in.
I'm just pointing out
that that's also a real problem.
They were smart enough
to realize,
bring the problem to us,
shove it in our face,
makes the problem
go away.
Now set up a nicer pen.
Put it in the shade.
If you can afford
Whole Foods,
you can afford
another child.
And if you can't, at least
put some hand sanitizer on
and sit in there and play
for a couple minutes.
That's the very least
you could do.
You ever watch
your morning local news
where once a week,
somebody from the animal shelter
will bring a dog on?
Do you know why
they do it?
Huh?
Because it works.
Because bringing
that dog on TV
makes somebody at home go,
"You know what?
I could take that dog,"
and you saved his life.
Why aren't we doing that
with orphans?
I don't understand.
Honestly, like--like,
"This is Carlita.
"She's only five.
You can change her name.
"She doesn't give a shit.
"Come on, Carlita.
Can you dance, Carlita?"
And she's like...
She just wants
a home for Christmas.
You don't hear a lot
about the charity work I do,
and it's because
I don't do any.
You know what's better
than tax write-offs?
Keeping your money.
That's just a fun joke
to tell rich people.
It's not true.
I work with Make-A-Wish
all the time.
That's an incredible
experience,
uh, for me,
not the kids that are dying.
Yeah, they chose
to hang out with me.
They knew
what kind of jokes I told.
They were okay with it.
I don't pander onstage,
and I certainly don't
pander offstage.
And I'm telling you honestly,
these dying kids
have the best sense of humor
on this planet.
Their parents,
not so much,
but I don't care.
As soon as I meet them,
I start giving it to them.
Like, "Are you sure
you're dying?
You know
this is my weekend, right?"
And they're like,
"I'm dying."
I'm like,
"All right, let's go.
Don't cough on me,
mother(bleep)."
They want to be teased
like anybody else.
They can handle it.
Trust me, they've handled
a lot worse.
This kid I was hanging out with
last year a bunch was 17.
I'm like, "This is awesome
that you're dying now.
You got this in
right under the wire."
If you don't know,
the organization
is 18 and under.
So if you're dying of cancer
at 19, they're like...
"Hope your dreams are cheap."
If you're laughing
right now,
it's because
you're a good person
and you realize how absurd
that statement is,
to think
that they draw a hard line,
but it's funny to think
they might be
holding their doors shut.
"You can't get in, kid.
You're too old."
And they don't even
have to hold tight
because they kids
are so weak
because the disease
is winning.
Don't feel bad
for this kid.
The first thing he said
when he met me was--
he told me
I was his third choice.
And to this day,
I don't know
if he was (bleep) kidding
or not.
That's not cool.
I'm healthy.
I'm gonna live
a long time.
I don't need that
noodling around up there.
And if it makes you feel
any better
laughing at these jokes,
know that he is cured
and healthy now.
He's not.
He's dead.
But if some people need that,
let them have it, right?
"Oh, he's okay?
Oh, good."
"You know me.
I can't accept life."
That's a perfect gauge
for if we would ever
hang out
in a social setting.
Know that if you've ever said
any form of this statement,
we would not.
"Uh, there's nothing funny
about blank."
Any form of that,
know that I hate you
to your core.
Because I,
along with some of you,
respectfully disagree.
You can accept that things
are tragic and awful
and still have
a sense of humor about them.
It doesn't make you
a bad person,
despite what some blog
may say.
"Oh, there's nothing funny
about AIDS.
There's nothing funny
about rape."
Uh, yes there is
if you write a good joke.
There's funny things
about it.
And some of you
may be aware
I took a ton of bad press
for making that statement
verbatim.
And then a women
screamed at me,
"There is nothing funny
about rape."
And I've never
defended myself publicly,
despite misquotes.
Mainly because I'm rich.
I'm like, "(bleep) it.
"I make my living
saying shocking things.
There's consequences.
I can accept that."
And people
wrote me horrible stuff.
Like, "Hope your daughter
gets raped one day,
and we'll see
how funny you think it is."
Well, first of all, she'd have
to survive the abortion.
Talk about two strikes
against a kid, huh?
Yeah, I appreciate
your well wishes, kind soul.
It's a joke,
and it's my choice to have it.
Yeah, this is where
the feminists are usually torn,
because we're on the same side
on most issues.
Abortion?
Over here,
you have a lifetime of stress
and inevitable disappointment.
And over here,
you have freedom.
Well, how much
does freedom cost?
A couple nights' sleep
and around $750.
Seems extremely reasonable.
If nobody is looking,
I will take freedom.
"But they have fingernails
at 14 days."
Yeah, and I clip them.
I'm pretty sure Dyson
makes an attachment.
Guys, it's a great product
that never loses suction
due to the engineering.
Now, in the interest
of full disclosure,
I'm sponsored by Dyson.
I get a couple thousand bucks
for the plug.
They're like,
"Is there any place in your act
where you could fit in
our product?"
I'm like, "I've got
the perfect home for it.
Quick question, what's your
company's stance on fetuses?"
"We (bleep)ing hate them."
"All right,
let's move some units."
I don't know what show you
thought you bought tickets to,
but I assure you
this one's not getting softer.
All right.
"There's nothing funny
about child molestation."
All right,
then don't hang out with me.
Yeah, because
if you tell me a funny joke
about a priest
diddling a boy,
I'm not gonna be like,
"What is wrong with you?
Don't you know how serious
that issue is?"
I'm gonna laugh
because I'm not 11 or Catholic.
I don't give a (bleep).
I can separate
between reality and jokes.
Who in here
at one point in their life
hasn't laughed at a
Michael Jackson pedophile joke?
Let's see
if you laugh at this one.
Did you know,
last year,
dead Michael Jackson
made $180 million
thanks to
his new show in Vegas?
Which is amazing
if you get a chance to see it.
There's a hologram
of Michael.
It sings
and dances the hits.
And for an extra $500 a pop,
you can go backstage
and watch him
try to ghost-(bleep) your kid.
Uh, you're laughing
at pedophilia.
Look at that.
Oh, and you can't
even be offended by the joke
because ghost-(bleep)'s
not real.
But I'm sure
there's one dingbat in here,
"Yes, it is.
"I had a friend
that was molested by a spirit.
#Ghost(bleep)IsReal."
I'll laugh at the real thing
from time to time.
How about when Sandusky
was asked point-blank
on national television if he's
sexually attracted to boys
and he waited
around 16 seconds to apply,
and I quote,
"Eh"?
If you don't think
I was at home pissing myself...
Like, "Oh, did he just waffle
on that softball question?"
"Eh."
Ask me if I'm
sexually attracted to kids.
I'm not.
That's how long you should wait
to answer that question.
You don't
mull it over for a bit.
You certainly don't
eyeball your lawyer.
"I wonder how he wants me
to answer this one."
You come out swinging
in a hurry,
or you deserve
to burn in hell.
He said the only thing
he's ever been guilty of
is, he liked to put his hand
on boys' legs.
I've heard enough.
On that alone,
you should be in jail forever.
You want to hug your son
longer than three seconds,
you should be
in jail forever.
Yeah, my dad
didn't hug me very much.
He wasn't the best father,
but he didn't (bleep) children,
and I'll take it.
I don't believe he has.
That's my biggest fear
in life,
that I do that joke
and people are cheering
and there's one guy in here,
"He (bleep) me."
And I'm like...
I am sorry.
I am 99.8% positive
he hasn't.
He hasn't heard
this joke yet.
And my gut instinct is,
he's not gonna like it.
But if he gets too upset,
I'll be like,
"What are you hiding?"
How many minutes of "Hoarders"
can you watch
before you have to start
cleaning your place?
Ugh.
Who are these people?
I can't watch it.
I'm a minimalist.
I still want to be on the show,
a "Hoarders" episode,
as a minimalist,
where the entire episode
is me struggling
with the one knickknack
that's on my mantel.
And they're like,
"You got to get rid of it."
And I'm like, "I can't."
With this many people
in here,
guaranteed one of you
is a hoarder.
And I'm not looking
to out you,
and I don't want
your friends to either.
But this is what needs
to happen.
Tomorrow morning, okay,
wake up early.
That's gonna be
new for you
because you're
a piece of shit.
That's fair, right?
You think hoarders
get up early?
Uh, they do not.
They sleep in.
They wait till
the thrift store's open,
and they pray there's
new bric-a-brac on the shelves.
Get up early.
Head on down to The Home Depot.
You're gonna go
to the equipment rental center.
Okay?
Get yourself a wood chipper.
It's gonna run you
around $175 for a half day.
On your way out,
grab a couple day laborers.
When you get home,
gas it up.
Have them
throw you into it.
Because you're
a disgusting person
and no one likes you.
And by the lack of people
laughing right now,
my guess is, there's
more than one hoarder in here.
"But I love cats."
We know; that's why
we want you in the chipper.
Nobody can breathe
in your place.
You ever go into, like,
a cute local caf
and an artist has their work
for sale on the walls?
Has anybody ever not walked up,
looked at the price, and gone,
"Who the (bleep)
do they think they are?"
Just once, I'd like to walk
into somebody's home
and be like,
"Wow, that is a beautiful piece.
Where did you get it?"
And they're like,
"Oh, funny story.
"I was getting a spinach wrap
the other day for lunch,
"and I had $750
burning a hole in my pocket,
"and I was like, 'Hey, guys,
unbolt this from your urinal
and get it
into my living room.'"
Don't put stickers
on your car.
Despite what you think
they say,
know they read,
"I'm poor."
No one cares
who you cheer for
or what you believe in.
Just drive a little faster.
And God forbid
if you lost a loved one
and you think the best way
to memorialize him
is by turning
your Honda Civic
into a moving tribute.
Don't.
Because the only thing
that makes me want to do
is T-bone you
so you and Junebug
can finally be together again.
Like my morning commute
isn't depressing enough?
Now I'm stuck behind you
and your word problem,
trying to figure out
how old this shithead was
in the first place.
There's not enough
information.
I got to pull up
next to you.
"Was he a Gemini
by chance?
"15, too soon.
Speed it up.
Some of us aren't dead."
Don't text and drive.
It's the law.
Yeah, way to fast-track
the big issues in this country.
Do you know what
you are allowed to do?
Write a letter longhand
while driving.
Completely legal.
I would argue just as dangerous,
if not more.
Do I have to be a martyr
for this issue?
I'll do it.
Get on the freeway,
like, "Dear Grandma,
It's been a while."
"Winter is coming."
Have you seen the campaign
to stop texting and driving
where they show you
real final texts?
"Be right..."
They're like,
"Was it worth it?"
I don't know.
Were you trying to get laid
at 3:00 in the morning?
I'm not gonna judge you.
Maybe it was.
Maybe you finally had sex
with that one person
you've been chasing
your entire life
and you can't wait
to text your buddy.
"You're never gonna believe
who I..."
and then boom.
Congratulations.
You went out on top.
Yeah, I promise you
life wasn't gonna get better
after that moment.
Best-case scenario,
six months from now,
you're sending her texts.
"Yeah, Thai food's fine.
Whatever."
You can't text and drive,
but you can have
a three-course Taco Bell meal
in your lap
at 2:00 in the morning?
Everyone knows
you're drunk as shit.
You ought to be arrested
as soon as you place the order.
Why do people make a big deal
about last meals in prison?
"What do you want
for your last meal?"
"Uh, I don't know.
I kind of lost my appetite.
Don't know if you heard,
gonna be murdered tomorrow."
"Well, you have
to eat something."
"Make it a burrito.
"You're gonna
clean some shit up.
"Yeah, now neither one of us
are looking forward
to tomorrow."
I was watching
one of those "locked up" shows.
I saw a guy that was shanked
682 times.
Now, let's all agree
that that's a lot.
Do you have any idea
how long it would take
to stab somebody 682 times?
I did the math.
Don't rack your brain.
At two stabs per second,
which I believe
is a doable rate...
That's still
5 minutes 45 seconds-ish
of stabbing someone.
That's not even
factoring in getting tired,
having to switch to your
nondominant hand, like...
Here's the crazy part.
He lived.
Yeah, there's your upside
for obesity, America.
Why don't you
get back in line,
hit that buffet
one more time
on the off chance
you get stabbed 682 times?
Like...
[huffing]
"Walk it off."
Off topic,
if you've ever bragged
about doing
a half marathon,
you can shut
the (bleep) up forever.
When did that
even become a thing?
A half marathon?
Ooh.
I just finished reading
half a book.
Yeah, big, thick one.
Got to the middle,
set it down.
I'll never
look at it again.
I can bench press
around 450 pounds
one half time.
Just the down part.
The point is,
until you've shit yourself
and your nipples
are bleeding at mile 26,
you've accomplished nothing
and no one wants
to hear about it.
By the way,
has enough time passed
in this country
that we can openly and honestly
talk about the great things
Osama bin Laden did for us?
And don't act
like he didn't do anything good.
How about the fact
that we immediately know
September is nine?
That's not nothing.
That's not noth--
Do you remember
what we used to do?
January, February,
March, April, May, June,
July, August...
nine.
Honey, it's nine.
I use it for August.
9/11 minus one...
eight.
How about the fact
that every time you take
your wife or your girlfriend
to the airport,
you no longer have to walk her
all the way to the gate?
Yeah, maybe next time
you do a drop-off,
you give him a quick,
"Thanks, Osama."
"Hope you're enjoying that good
young tight stuff
they hand out up there."
Some of you
are too young to remember
pre-9/11 airport drop-offs,
but they were the worst.
Your girlfriend's like,
"Can you give me
a ride to the airport?"
And you're like,
"Yeah, I'd love to.
"Because there's never been
a service invented
"that would
take you to the airport.
What time's your flight?"
"4:15 a.m."
"Perfect.
"No, I was gonna get up
at 2:00 anyway,
"so that works out.
"No, you know me;
2:00 rolls around,
and my body's like
'Start your day; it's 2:00.'"
Then you're driving
to the airport;
she's like,
"You gonna come inside?"
"Yeah, why wouldn't I?
"Parking there's so convenient.
"Besides, I like to start
every day with a two-mile
"stress-filled sprint walk.
"Oh, your flight's delayed
an hour and a half?
"Perfect, I'll get a Cinnabon,
get diabetes
before you take off."
Do you remember?
Some guys wouldn't even leave
after they boarded.
They would just stand
at a window
waving at a machine
backing up
because they were so happy
to finally be alone.
Now what do you get to do
thanks to Osama?
Barely slow down
and kick them to the curb.
Yeah, I don't know
about you,
but I say
that's worth a tower.
Not two--not two.
Not two.
Whoa.
That was close.
No, no, no,
rightfully so.
"I (bleep) thought
he meant both of them.
"He didn't.
He only meant one.
He cleared it up."
"Which one?"
"Does it matter?"
"To my uncle."
There you go;
now everyone's offended.
If I can take a--
a quick moment to be sincere,
and then I'll go back
to being an asshole,
know that I
appreciate this,
uh, that this isn't lost on me.
I didn't have dreams of grandeur
getting into comedy.
Uh, it's overwhelming.
Uh, thank you for coming out.
I know that eventually
this will come
to a crashing halt.
I'm not gonna stop
saying awful things.
Eventually I'll say
the one thing where it's like,
"Oop, there goes his career.
Wow, he thought
he could say that, huh?"
I actually wrote
a career suicide note.
Would you like
to hear it?
"Dear Jews..."
That's all I've got
so far.
This--right?
Right now, people are like,
"Oh, (bleep), he's doing it.
Here we go. God."
I don't meet fans
after the shows
mainly because
I don't want to.
For good reason.
I have a very large
social media presence
to pat myself on the back
about things that don't matter.
On average, I receive around
1,200 death threats a week.
Yeah, no,
it's fun standing up here.
Sorry I don't want
to shake hands with the guy
that wrote, "Die, [bleep], die.
#YoureA(bleep)."
"I'm a fan,
I was kidding."
I apologize sincerely
about ticket prices,
but you have to understand,
I can't risk performing
in front of the type of people
that can afford $10.
And as hard as that joke is
for some of you to swallow,
there's other people in here
that are like,
"I actually appreciate him
saying that
"because I was like,
'This is way too much money,'
"but now that
I think about it, yeah,
I wouldn't stand in front
of those monsters either."
You can get lucky
and find a ten.
Like, "Oh,
I'm gonna murder someone."
People accuse me
of everything online.
Misogynistic,
I get that.
No, I'm just
a male comic with dumb jokes.
If I was a female comic,
the jokes would be
completely opposite
and empowering,
and the crowds
would be a lot smaller.
Yeah, 'cause you don't
support your own, ladies.
That's on you.
Racist--
I don't like hearing that.
I never, never
use the "N" word...
into a microphone...
anymore.
I'm so aware
of social issues.
Even when I'm home alone
doing laundry,
I won't use
the word "colors."
Yeah, I do
a load of whites
and a load of darkies,
and that's it.
That's it.
Because I want to be
on the right side of history.
I'm not gay.
I have a--
I have a girlfriend,
not by choice.
I blame Hollywood
for ruining every relationship
that I've ever been in.
What you don't realize
is how negatively
they affect
your relationships.
Everyone's aware
of the liberal media bias
in the news,
but what about the way
they portray couples
in every sitcom,
where there's a dumb husband
chasing his wife around
the whole episode like,
"I want to have sex,"
and she's never in the mood?
They just hammer
that stereotype home
that men always
want to have sex
and women never do.
Let's get this
out of the way right now.
Women want to have sex
way more often than men.
I assure you, ladies,
this is not the perspective
you're going to enjoy.
I don't know if you're new
to my comedy or not.
I have
a very gender-specific slant
that I ride pretty hard.
Because the reality is,
whether you want
to admit it or not,
no man's ever
loved you more
or been more physically
attracted to you
than he was the first time
he had sex with you.
And from that moment,
it goes down.
Okay, now, don't look at him
right now
and make the evening
uncomfortable.
"Is that true?"
And then he has to be like...
"No.
I'm pretty sure he's queer.
I don't care
what he says."
It's true
100% of the time.
How fast it dives
is case by case.
It doesn't have to fall
off a cliff immediately.
We've all been there
when it does.
Can you be happily married
for 50 years?
Of course you can,
but know that for him,
every time you have sex,
it's going down a notch.
Men die ten years earlier
because we (bleep) want to.
Don't make him
feel inadequate.
Don't challenge his drive.
"I'm with the only guy
in the world
that doesn't want
to have sex all the time."
Uh, no, you're not.
When I'm in a relationship,
I can go two to three weeks
without thinking about sex.
When I'm single,
I need to masturbate
twice a day
before I step outside,
or I will
sexually assault someone.
I assure you
his drive is fine.
It's the product
that's sour.
Is that too harsh?
Your snatch has spoiled.
Is that softer?
And I know
what your response should be.
"Well, then
maybe you shouldn't be
in a relationship
if that's how you feel."
But that's not
how I'm wired.
I like to be
in a relationship...at first.
And I won't cheat on you,
and I won't break up.
So every time I fall in love,
I'm like,
"(bleep), here goes
three years."
I don't even understand
how real dating sites exist.
Whenever I'm
in a relationship,
my dream scenario
is that I come home from work,
open the door,
and catch her blowing someone.
That's not a big laugh.
But notice,
there are people laughing.
Do you know why?
Because for the first time
in a long time,
there's guys in here going,
"I'm not alone."
That they can understand
that twisted logic.
They just come home,
open the door,
and there she is just...
"You're home early."
And you're like,
"Oh, shit.
You can't do that.
I'm out of here."
Yeah, no,
we don't even talk anymore.
I'm just
magically happy again.
I grew up in Florida.
I'm a die-hard Dolphins fan.
Cheering for the Dolphins
is like
getting tested for an STD.
I think I could win,
but I know I don't deserve to.
I'm actually
one of the few people
that's a die-hard Heat fan
that's glad LeBron
went back to Cleveland.
If you've
never been to Cleveland,
congratulations.
Cleveland's one
of the few places
ISIS could fly over
and they'd be like,
"Oh, my goodness,
what happened down there?
"No one
should have to live like that.
"Is there anything we can do
to help them
get back on their feet?"
Let's just put it
in perspective for you.
They crucified this kid
for leaving.
You forget he was a kid
'cause he looked 40
when he was 8.
But he left when he was
a 25-year-old billionaire.
And he's not even
from Cleveland.
He's from Akron.
That's a shittier city
90 miles away,
and--wait for it--
he's from the shitty part
of the shittier city.
And he just wanted
to play basketball
someplace else,
and they killed him.
I grew up on a private
golf course in Florida.
If I had a billion dollars
when I was 25 years old,
I would shit
on this stage mid-set.
Just shit,
stare at you people,
continue my act,
like, "Hey, pick that up."
You'd be like,
"What? I'm not picking that up."
And I'd say, "What'd you say?"
And then I'd throw
a million dollars at your head.
And you'd be like, "God damn it,
I'm picking this up, aren't I?"
I would be
out of my mind.
Or when people
get on Justin Bieber
for drinking
and speeding in his car.
Yeah, a 21-year-old
billionaire.
You want to know
how I would act
if I had that kind of money
at that age?
I would rollerblade
around Los Angeles,
jerking off
on hot chicks.
None of you
would have an issue with it.
You'd be like
"That's Daniel, ah."
"He's only 21.
"He hasn't
figured things out yet.
"He's worth
a billion dollars.
That's pressure
that I can't relate to."
My opening line
in New Orleans,
beautiful theater like this,
nice ovation.
I walk onstage.
The first thing
out of my mouth
before thank you,
"(bleep) the Saints.
"I'm not gonna pander
to your city
just because Mother Nature
gave you a much-needed bath."
Trust me when I tell you
no one in here
has ever experienced
a wave of hatred
like I have...
as if the levees
had broke again.
They lost their mind.
They couldn't even
comprehend it quick enough.
"What did he say?
I will murder him
where he stands."
But then they had
the inner dialogue.
"That was his first joke.
We paid a lot.
Go on."
And the only reason
I say things like that anyway
is because backstage,
I have friends like,
"I bet you won't say it."
And apparently
$5 still means something to me.
I'm like, "What? You don't think
I'll ruin the show?
Watch this."
I hope the world ends
in my lifetime.
I want to see it.
I don't want it
to end tonight.
And I know
the hand that I was dealt.
When shit hits the fan,
I don't make good decisions.
I die hour one.
"Hey, we need
to go north."
"I don't know
where north is.
I'm gonna
stay here, guys."
Dead.
Some of you, you're gonna
survive for a while.
Good for you.
Sizing people up
as quick as you can.
"Do you know
how to fly a plane?"
"No."
Knife to the throat.
"Out of my way.
You're useless."
That's what I've learned
from watching movies.
If anybody ever comes
running up to you screaming,
"Do you know
how to fly a plane?"
Muster up
some courage in a hurry.
"Yep."
Nobody screaming, "Do you
know how to fly a plane?"
Doesn't have horrible things
happening right behind them.
Just jump
in that cockpit.
Just start
flipping switches.
"Calm down.
My plane's a little different.
"Have you out of here
in no time.
"Does this have a mirror?
No.
Okay, that was a joke, haha."
That's how you survive
a little bit longer.
I watch any TV show
with Alaska in the title
just so I can see
what a real man
is supposed to look like.
Or Bear Grylls?
I love him.
A British Green Beret
giving us survival tactics
while we sit
on the couch and snack.
Come on,
who's that show for?
I can rule out
half the planet.
I don't know a woman
that can do one pull-up,
let alone climb a vine
up a waterfall
to eat a bat.
Yeah, heads up, ladies,
you're gonna die at the bottom.
I'm going up there
to eat bat.
Do you know
how to eat a bat?
I saw this episode.
I'll tell you.
It's not as hard as you think.
First thing
you have to do,
catch a (bleep) bat.
I'm out.
Catch a bat?
Yeah, I can't kill a fly
in under three hours
in my house with equipment.
You want me to blindly walk
into a scary cave
and barehand
a flying AIDS rat?
That's literally
all he does.
He just walks in and just
snatches it by the feet
or hooves or whatever
the (bleep) bats have.
And close your eyes, PETA.
Here comes the tough part.
Then he just bashes it
over a rock
'cause he wants
his snack tender.
Meanwhile his camera crew's
just laughing,
eating Luna bars, like,
"What the (bleep)
is wrong with him?
"Doesn't this stinky
Brit realize
"American reality television
is fake?
"We can pause the camera
and put granola and pudding down
"and be like, 'You have
to eat your bat to survive.'"
He's chewing on a real bat;
he's like,
"Uh-oh, this could be
a poisonous bat."
What the (bleep)
did you just say?
It's 11:30 at night.
I'm trying to go to bed.
Now I have to get up
and Google what bats are edible?
"If there's
a faint yellow diamond
under the left eye,
be wary."
I'm looking at women
that aren't laughing.
My guess is,
you're hung up on the part
where I said
you can't do a pull-up
and you checked out?
"I can do a pull-up."
Yeah, and there's a reason
you're here alone.
Your shoulders are gross
and nobody likes you.
You should knock it off
with the CrossFit.
Nobody needs
to flip a tire in 2015.
We all have AAA.
You haven't had your period
in four years for a reason.
You're growing a dick.
Now--
now lighten up.
May I open the door for you?
"Nope, I've got it."
[blows forcefully]
"Woman."
You're the superior sex.
I don't care.
You ever get road rage?
That's embarrassing.
I've had road rage before
and won,
and I've had road rage
and lost.
I'm gonna tell you
two different stories.
You can determine
which is which.
And the first one,
I want to point out,
I was pretty young
at the time.
And the only reason
I want you to know that
is because I don't approve
of what I said.
But I had just moved
out here to Los Angeles.
I was in traffic in my Acura
with the sunroof open.
Yeah, I was doing pretty well
from day one.
Started from the upper-middlish.
Now I'm here.
I was yelling
through my sunroof
at a guy
in a delivery truck,
and I don't remember
what we were fighting over.
But at one point,
I may have yelled,
"That's why you have
to work on Saturday,
you piece of shit."
And then he spit
a mouthful of Doritos onto me.
So I lost, right?
If a man spits a mouthful
of Doritos on your face,
you have two options.
You can, one,
get a machete
and murder everyone
in his family.
Or, two,
you can close your sunroof
because that psycho
is not bluffing.
I had chewed-up Dorito
on my lip.
I can still feel it
right now.
I didn't have any napkins
in my glove compartment.
That was
over 15 years ago.
You think there's napkins
in my glove compartment today?
You're goddamn right
there is.
Every time
I go to a restaurant,
I take a big "(bleep) you
to the environment" stack.
And they're like, "Hey,
don't take so many napkins."
I'm like, "I had chewed-up
Dorito from another man
on my face."
Now, here's a time more recently
that I had road rage.
I think I handled things
a little more maturely.
Again, I was
in Los Angeles.
I was on
the 10 Freeway eastbound,
middle lane--
don't know what that says
about my personality,
but that's where you'll find me.
I'm not
an aggressive driver.
Drive a station wagon.
I was doing nothing wrong.
I saw a car
changing lanes,
driving like a maniac,
cutting people off.
He was coming toward me.
He wanted me
to get out of the way.
I chose not to.
I'm like, "(bleep) it,
slam into me."
He didn't,
but he got on my bumper,
and he was irritated,
and he was flipping me off.
I notice he has
a wedding ring on,
and his wife's
in the front seat.
And at that moment,
oh, I got real confident.
Because I'm like,
"There's no way
"you're gonna go
to the level of crazy
"that I'm about to,
not with your wife
sitting next to you."
Like, at some point, she's gonna
have to be the voice of reason.
Like, "Stop it, Phillip.
Just drive. I'm scared."
So I got real brave, right?
I'm flipping him off.
I'm brake checking.
I'm holding
the windshield wiper fluid on.
Like--
is that your move?
Yeah, oh,
very passive-aggressive.
I've cleared my calendar.
I'm doing nothing
for the rest of my life
except irritating
this asshole behind me.
We're going about
ten miles an hour on the freeway
at this point,
and he won't pass me.
I kind of respect it.
I'm out of fluid.
My exit's coming up.
So I get off the freeway,
and then he follows me
right off the freeway.
And at that moment,
the real Daniel
came crashing back,
where I'm like,
"Aw, shit.
"You were supposed
to keep driving.
"That's not your wife.
That's a hooker you're gonna
murder, isn't it?"
Like--
You got to think fast.
What do you do?
Well, I know
this exit.
It's the Robertson exit,
if you want to verify it.
There's a very large
black homeless guy at the bottom
with a sign
that just said "Food."
I aggressive drove
toward him
with this guy
right on my bumper,
slammed on my brakes
to a dead stop
so he's pinned behind me,
can't get around.
I roll my window down.
I give the guy $20.
I say, "You need to go crazy
on the car behind me."
I swear,
he doesn't even hesitate.
Both hands on the hood,
cocks his head,
starts screaming at the guy.
Meanwhile I'm like,
"Oh, shit,
he's gonna murder him too."
Now I got
blood on my hands,
but I don't really care
'cause it's a homeless guy.
And I'm like,
"It's probably not even
the worst decision
he's made today."
So I take off.
And the driver shoots me
one last look,
and I appreciate it because
he certainly didn't have to.
But he gave me the, uh,
"You won."
And I've never
felt better about anything
I have ever done
in my entire life.
You know,
for the rest of his life,
every time he gets
in the car with his wife,
she's gonna be like,
"You remember the one time
"with the homeless guy, uh?
Maybe I should drive.
That's all I'm saying, hothead."
So remember that
next time you lose your cool
behind the wheel.
Calm down.
Find a homeless person.
Pay them to do it for you.
Way safer, and you feel good
about yourself.
And the only part of that story
I embellished
even the slightest bit
was the amount of money
that I gave him,
because if you think
I'm giving out 20s,
you're (bleep) crazier
than he was.
Thank you very much.
Good night.
I don't mind
the sun sometimes
The images it shows
I can taste you on my lips
And smell you in my clothes
Cinnamon and sugary
I don't mind
the sun sometimes
The images it shows
I can taste you on my lips
And smell you in my clothes
Cinnamon and sugary