DANIEL TOSH: COMPLETELY SERIOUS (2007) – Full Transcript

2017-10-01T00:35:21-07:00 September 30th, 2017|Categories: COMEDY, DANIEL TOSH|Tags: |
  • Daniel Tosh - Completely Serious

Recorded at OC Pavilion in Santa Ana, CA

Dan, in five minutes. Daniel. Let’s begin. Ladies and gentlemen. Daniel Tosh. Thank you. Thank you. I deserve that. I’m really good. One of the best. That’s yeah, the best. Currently ranked number one in the world. So buckle up, you guys are in for a treat. 19000 people. This is awesome. Thank you. Seriously don’t look around. It’s 19,000. People watching the TV they never know. They’re so stupid. That’s why they watch TV. It’s great to be here in the OC. Diversity. That’s what I like about the OC. You know between upper middle and upper. My people. Oh, there anything more annoying than the poor? Always complaining: “Aw, I can’t afford a two-bedroom townhouse for six hundred thousand dollars.” Good, move east. Yeah, that’s what the middle of the country’s for. People that gave up on their dreams. Oh, that’s gonna, sting isn’t, tourist? Alright, how much longer do I have— holy cow! That opening did not take long enough. We have another 55 minutes. I tell you how long I’ve been on stage. I think that’s nice. I don’t have to.

Ever been in church: “Hey, when’s this fucker going to wrap it up? We got kick off! Why does God hate football season? I wish he was arrested on a Wednesday. It’s so hard to be a Christian in the west coast time zone. I probably shouldn’t talk about church and say fucking in the same sentence. Or on Comedy Central. They don’t want me to swear. But, I love to swear and I don’t know that I’m not allowed to swear. Right? What if I die get up to heaven and God’s like: “Hey, man. Welcome to fuckin’ heaven.” “Oh, my. What did you say?” He’s like: “Welcome to fucking heaven.” “You can swear?” He’s like: “Fuck yeah! It’s fucking heaven.” “Oh, see I was always raised as a child never to swear.” “Where in the Bible does it say you can’t fucking swear?” I’m like: “No fucking where.” He’s like: “Yeah. Now you’re getting it. By the way I saw some slutty bitches by the pearly gates. You can go tap that. They ain’t getting in.” I’m like: “What?” He’s like: “No, I’m kidding. You’re not in heaven. You’re in hell. You’re on PUNK’D.” Oh, damn you, Ashton. That one was elaborate. Way to go the extra mile. Even in the afterlife you’re a douchebag. Hope you enjoy charity banging that geriatric for eternity. Am I right? It’s so gross. “I hope I get famous in my early 20 so I can settle down and marry some middle-aged forty-year-old with a bunch of kids. That’ll throw off the scent of the gay trail.” Haha. I guess it has, I guess it has.

Women like that Demi married a younger man because guys do it all the time and no one gives him grief for, but if a woman does it becomes an issue. OK. But the flip side of that is how about when a hot female teacher bangs a 14 year old student and nobody in society really has a problem with it. They all the same stupid joke: “Probably made the kid more popular.” That’s disgusting. She’s a pedophile, she should be in prison forever. I dated a teacher in high school. Yeah, it didn’t make me cooler. And a lot of you’re like: “That’s because you were home schooled.” OK. Valid. Valid point. Doesn’t mean I’m a bad person. It just means statistically I’m smarter than you are. And I had game.

A leopard can carry two times its body weight into a tree. I don’t have a joke for that yet. But it is accurate and just in case you hate my stand-up at least you can leave going: “You know what I learned something. That guy’s like a damn Snapple.” Right? You might not like the flavor, but once you pop the top you’re: “Ohhh, the Sun is hot! 45 million degrees Fahrenheit! It feels warmer. Tahoe’s west of LA? Bullshit, Snapple!” Then I saw a globe and I’m like: “I’m sorry, Snapple. You are always right.”

Got to seal up the borders in this country that’s for sure. Yeah, I’m not talking about Mexico, either. I love Mexico. Beautiful beaches and fifty dollars never bought me so much weed. Sure, there were branches in it. I don’t care. In a garbage bag. I was king for a day. I’m talking about Canada. Stay in your own yard. I’m so sick of these Canadians down here. Always complaining, right? “It’s nice here but I couldn’t live here. I love seasons, too much. I love seasons.” So do I. That’s why I live in a place that skips the shitty ones. Because, I love seasons. Why don’t you ice skate your ass back up to your log cabin and enjoy that 10-month dead period? Where you get to stay inside day after day and eventually have to stab your wife to death that just so you can see some color. Oh, that’s my favorite season. Where your wife is lying dead on the floor. Those reds! Am I right? It’s like Maine. We should get lobster.
I don’t think I could ever stab somebody because I’m really bad with the Capri Sun. And other reasons that even fewer would laugh at. No? Okay. No Juicy, Juicy, Juicy. This is my water. This is gonna be exciting. I wish it didn’t have that many rotations to take the lid off. Had I known that I would have pre-screwed it two turns.

Sometimes I feel bad because secretly I hope New Orleans gets nailed again. But, but, but, but, then I don’t. What? You’d rather spend billions rebuilding the city that’s below sea level? I’ve got another business plan. Cut our losses and finish the job, Lord. I’m sorry s– one guy. Yeah, that’s like: “You know what, I came to a comedy club. I hope there’s jokes and sarcasm.” The rest of you are… I’m a half full guy. New Orleans gets flooded, I said to myself: “If any city in this country needed a bath, it was New Orleans. That. Cajuns are dirty. That’s a fact. That’s French and redneck merging. That’s a hygiene combination no antiperspirant can tackle. And I’m not– I’m not somebody that doesn’t understand why you would “oh”. We had a horrible tragedy in our country, that’s not bad enough. What’s right around the corner to make everything worse? Blatant racism. And it was obvious in New Orleans. We all know it wasn’t just black people looting, that’s for sure. There were tons of Mexicans there. There were. And nobody was pointing the finger. I will. I see a Jose. “Drop the VCR! The hell are you stealing a VCR for, anyway? They don’t even make VHS tapes. Why don’t you steal a TiVo? That’s what I would steal.” But, I don’t have to because I’m white and I’ve had one for 3 years. That’s– That’s not racial. That’s a fact. I’ve almost had one for 4 years. I’m not gonna say that. How does that make the joke better? “I’ve had a TiVo for 4 years.” “Who’s the dick?” So I say three years to soften it.

Wherever you live there’s risk. I mean we accept that. We live here. Oh, California. We have earthquakes, mudslides. The rest of the country thinks it’s hysterical: “Haha! That’s what you guys get for building your houses on the side of cliffs.” That’s because we have shit to look at, Tulsa. Why don’t you keep your mouth shut and enjoy that new strip mall? Oh, I hear they’re gonna put a Chili’s in it. That’s gonna be super sweet. On Thursdays they’re doing 2 4 and appetizers. I’m gonna go Pizza Pop where you get spinach artichoke dip. I wanna get chicken fingers. You’re chicken Caesar salad. It’s a different kind of chicken. Oh, that joke was long and worth it.

Do you know who loves to get fisted? Sock puppets. That joke is adorable. I wrote that joke so children could watch my show on TV and not be embarrassed in front of their parents. I was watching the country music channel the other day and I fell asleep and I woke up racist. Ah, that explains the holes in my linens.

Saw a guy driving on the highway with his bare foot out the window. Can we agree that that’s disgusting? Right, so I was gonna pull next to him to scream at him and then I realized it was an amputee making a left. I know but I already started to yell so I’m: “Oh, your blinkers out!” And he waved or kicked. Received the information.

If anybody ever asks you for directions and you have to point, point with 4 fingers. The look on their face will be the funniest thing you saw all day long. Just be: “Oh, yeah. It’s over there.” “Are you yelling at me?” “No. Just go that way to the left. That’s how you get there. Well, then you should have asked the walrus.”

My girlfriend is Korean for this joke. And we met online and people make jokes about it but that’s not how eBay works. You research, wait for one without a reserve. None of this buy it now. I don’t have a girlfriend, oh. She got so mad. She hated I that always corrected her. And I told her: “How do you think it made me feel? Knowing I was dating someone who was always wrong?” And I’m in show business. Oh, she would get so jealous when I cheated on her. And I would tell her: “Maybe if you had a better body, I wouldn’t have to. Instead of ‘Ohing’, why don’t you get on a treadmill, put on 8 with an incline because I’m not gonna stick around with back fat.” And she’s like: “I’m not fat, I’m pregnant.” I’m like: “Whatever. It’s gross. Now make me a sandwich.” Then I give her kidney shot. Not a hard one. Just so “You know I love honey turkey.” POW! “He likes turkey. I need more iron in my diet.” That’s a bruise joke. People are like: “Oh, he punched a pregnant  girlfriend.” She wasn’t pregnant. She’s pro choice. Does that make you uncomfortable? Move to South Dakota. Hear they’re taking rights. You know that South Dakota is the first state in our country to make abortion completely illegal. And it doesn’t affect me because good luck finding someone in South Dakota that I’d have sex with. Have you seen them? There is no talent on that team. That’s a AAA club at best. And if you’re not pro-choice, all that means you’ve never slept with a stripper in Kansas City. Cause that’s a phone call no man wants. “Guess who’s gonna be joining us for breakfast? Cinnamon Junior.” “Not if my seven hundred dollars has anything to say about it. Now clean it out.” I know. But he had a really bad dad.
I’m reading the crowd. One more abortion joke? You got it. All right. I could tell. I could tell. I do this for a living. Have you heard about this morning after pill or as I like to call it breakfast in bed? That a few women have taken and died a few days later? Ho, talk about two birds. Oh, yeah. “Looks like I will be going to the game this weekend, fellas. Drinks are on me. I had a great week.”

Poker’s a sport? Then put it in the Olympics. And you can only play with what your country’s worth. How great would that be, being American? “Looks like Costa Rica’s all in with 15 coconuts.” “We’re gonna to call. Hasta luego, small blind. Shouldn’t have limped. Go cry about your bad beat to Nicaragua. They got guns.

Do you guys even get what my show’s about? Huh? Do you? I’m talking about bringing the troops home. That’s the message. It’s not obvious, but it’s there. Bring the troops home tomorrow and continue the war here! Because we owe it to our troops to let them sleep in their own beds with their families. Wake up in the morning have a delicious breakfast, drive to war. We can have it in Nebraska. We don’t need that horrible state. That can be our field. Some of you are: “Oh, it’s not nice! Then we wouldn’t have any corn!” My SUV doesn’t run on corn. Ethanol is a dream and a dumb one. And let’s not pretend that anyone in here likes Nebraska. Have you ever wondered why there’s storm chasers? An hour in Omaha and I’m looking for a tornado to take me anyplace. Get me the hell out of there! No wonder they’re all fat. It’s so they will stay on the ground. And yes I do that joke in Omaha. And I stare at them while I’m saying it. And I’m sure they’d love to scream at me, but they can’t because they’re too busy eating fried mayonnaise ball. “I’ll get to you later, boy. These are delicious! Server! Another bucket! Quickly! I felt my blood moving!”

Parade or fireworks? Which do you go to? Fireworks. Of course. I don’t even have a joke for the moron that yells: “Parade!” “I would go to a parade. I’m here alone because I make horrible decisions.” You don’t even know when a parade’s finished. Do you? Like: “Oh, is that it? Can we go? I’d like to wash the gay off me.” And it’s sticky. Fireworks. You know when they’re finished. The finale. It’s pretty impressive. Parades could learn a thing or two. They need a finale. My recommendation? One more lap. 60 times the speed. Bands on a full sprint. Floats going 80. Midgets falling off cause they have little fingers. They can’t hold on. Right? So kids are catching them. “Mom, can we keep him?” “I don’t see why not. They’re not real.” They’re not. They can’t even vote in our country. OK. They can vote, but they’ve no clue who they picked. They’re jumping up, grabbing levers. And that’s the story of how President Bush won the election. Oh, yes I did. That joke had a happy ending.

Mmm, I was like a– Bless you. They say bless you because they used to believe evil spirit were in your soul. So whenever I have to sneeze I encourage my friends to be like: “Get out of him! Get out of him!”
You ever have to sneeze and you can’t sneeze and have the worst feeling? Do you know what it means? An angel in heaven faked an orgasm. It’s true. I read that in Revelations. Or had a messed-up dream. Either way it was hard to believe. My jeans faded, your jeans with holes in them. Yet they’re not this old. That’s how we bought them. That’s ridiculous. I say give them brand new to the homeless. Let them age it. Then take it back, wash it, sell it. That way we can clothe the homeless, but we can still look down on them, because they’re not in style. We need classes. Know your role.

Don’t you love that one: “Money doesn’t buy happiness.” Do you live in America? Because it buys a waverunner. You ever seen a sad person on a waverunner? Have you? Seriously, have you? Seriously, have you? Try to frown on a waverunner. They’re so awesome. It’s just throttle. People smile as they hit the pier. Because you forget you need gas to turn. It goes against your natural instincts. Some of you aren’t laughing. We all miss your cousin. But not not laughing is not gonna bring him back. I don’t think that’s right. He’s dead for a reason. He’s was a show-off and he tried to spray us. “I didn’t wanna to get wet!” I yelled at his mother at the funeral.

Do you like how I start jokes with mass appeal and continue till only six people have a clue what I’m talking about? That’s not a good style. That doesn’t make you famous. Of course money buys happiness. Ever seen a homeless person skip? The answer to that riddle’s: no. They’re not allowed. I once saw a homeless person start to skip, bottle him right in the dome. He forgot the rules. He’ll remember next time. Yeah, I threw it. I don’t care. Why is he happier than me? He shouldn’t be, I’m rich. Spiritually. You ever hear a girl say that? “I’m not religious, but I’m spiritual.” I reply: “I’m not honest, but you’re really interesting. Let’s have cider and talk about your crazy cats. Maybe three hours from now I can dry hump you. No? Okay, then scattergories.” That’s second base in Christian baseball. Some loose girls play as a singles. Slow down ladies!

I’m all for women that decided to get plastic surgery, because plastic surgery allows you the rare opportunity to make your outer appearance reflect your inner appearance. Fake. Which is a positive joke for women unless of course you have fake boobs. Let’s be honest you’re not bright enough to get that joke. How’s that feel, whores? Yeah, just keep telling yourself you did it so your shirts would fit better. You did it because you’re a whore. You forgot because you’re stupid. Enjoy your free drinks. I’ll buy. I love big titties! Yeah! You got big titties then top-shelf. Small titties? Beer in a can.
You ever been to a third world country? Not a boob job in the bunch, yet they still find happiness. And that’s discouraging because they’re tough to look at. No, no, I know you have a harelip, but why not work on that rack first? I’m from America, I don’t speak your booga-booga language. By the way, I hate soccer. And we wonder why other countries think we’re a trainwreck, when we have shows like “The Swan Extreme Makeover”. “I don’t wanna develop a personality you’re better off cutting my face.” “Am I happy? Am I– This is the expression I ordered. Happy.” Put me on Extreme Makeover. I’d like a vagina under my arm. Yeah, that’s extreme. I don’t even know if they can do this surgery. Whatever. I signed the waiver. Let’s go, doc! Drill! You know how I like it. 516 and juicy like a starburst. This joke get’s worse. Hang in there. Alright? My friends be: “You look different.” I’ll be: “Uh huh.” “Oh man! Are you ticklish? Are you?” “All right, come on, guys! Two fingers. There you go. Oh, yeah. That feels so good. Now I know why I call you best friend forever.”
I think it’s pretty obvious that I don’t pander in my act. But just in case there’s any women in here that have had plastic surgery or considering getting plastic surgery know that I’m just making light of a social issue. I don’t give a shit either way at all. Please save your breath. Don’t come to me after show make: “I’ve got fake boobs and I’m not stupid.” That’s the only thing I’ve come up with to make that moment equally uncomfortable for you. I know you’re not stupid. I’m telling jokes. I’ve had plastic surgery. I could care less who knows. I have. How old do you think I am? Mm? I’m 59. I am. Check my Myspace page. You can’t lie on there. I’m 59. My lips are not this voluptuous.
I don’t know if you’re familiar with the procedure, but they will take some from your back section inject it into your lips. What? I don’t have a lot back there. So I was forced to use my dick fat. Because, I’ve always been told I have a fat dick. That’s why I wear black condoms. Because, they’re slimming. That’s a joke. I don’t wear condoms. I don’t. I don’t. It’s against my religion. I’m kind of mad that you asked.
Do you know how hard it is to grow up when you’re a little bit different than all the other kids? Every day in school I would hear it: “There goes Daniel. He’s got a fat fat dick!” And I would run home crying: “Mother, why is my dick so fat?” And she’d like: “Because, your real father’s Samoan.” “Is that why I hate The Rock?” And she said yes and then we watched “The Rundown” and we wept. And yes chronologically this joke makes no sense at all. But I don’t know any older Samoans so The Rock is my dad. Whoa! That joke was loooong. Oh, yeah.

Guess who has cat-like reflexes? Me. Thank you. Cat-like reflexes. Look at this. Watch this. I can do that every time, ladies. Am I right? “I’ll put it in.” Alright, let’s edit out the me going like that. My mom would absolutely So disgusting. What’s wrong with me? Chapstick. You know what, let me tell you something. Chapstick. First of all, if you’re a man and you put your on, you have to put it on all the way around. You can’t just put on the bottom and go… I mean you can, but then you have to keep the chapstick in your asshole. Which isn’t a bad idea because I’m always losing my chapstick.
My favorite part of the day is when my upper lip gets dry enough that I can tuck it in and it stays. I’m always like: “Yay! It’s this time!” Because, it reminds me of how shallow I really am. Because I could meet the most beautiful woman in the world, but if her lip was like that I’d be: “Ho-ho! No way! Seriously, somebody get me a stick. I’m gonna beat this mutant.”

Okay, here’s a joke that’s not gonna work, but I have to do it. Why? Because there are people out there that will find this funny and I’m not so selfish that I don’t care about them as well. I’m sick of the media making female sport athletes into supermodels when they’re clearly sixes at best. I don’t need to be told how hot Danica Patrick is. Do you really think she’s beautiful? Danica? She’s 4’11 and bowlegged. You ever watched her walk to her car? There’s nothing hot about her. Maybe it’s sexy when her hair is blowing in the wind as she’s in last place. Or Maria Sharapova. “She’s breathtaking!” Really? When she was 13 and grunting I was into it, but now it doesn’t do much for me. It’s like the Olsen twins. It’s just gotten sad. I kind of hope one of them ODs so I can stop guessing. Applause break on a joke I’ve never said before on my special. That’s rare. I’m just saying. I’m not tooting my own horn. I’ve never said that in my life. Fucking improving up here. God. It’s unbelievable.

I can kegel 75 pounds. Is that a lot? Is that good? I don’t know. I’m told it’s good. Three sets of 40.
Is there any men in here that have a ponytail right now? I swear to God I want to see some of it. Do you have a ponytail? No, you don’t. Oh, you were just trying to help me? Like, like– I hate him. A man with a ponytail is saying: “Hey! Don’t fuck with me.” While a man with pigtails is saying: “Here. Hold these while you fuck me.” It’s a subtle difference, but it speaks volumes. It’s all about that part.

You think there’s any case of polite Tourette’s in the world? Like one random person yells out random compliments for no reason all. “Lovely smile! Sorry, I have a disease.” You’d be: “Don’t worry about it. That was nice.” “Lovely hat!” I think two examples is enough. Next joke. How does Superman fly faster? Can anyone answer me this? How did Supe– I get that he can fly. I accept that. I just wanna know how he flies faster. Is it just like more… It’s the only part I don’t understand. Does he have different settings like: “Oh, this is my cruising speed I can one-arm-it with a bitch. You know, take her around town.” I just need some nerd to talk to me after a show: “See, what happened when the planet exploded…” And I’ll tell you what a vagina feels like. Are we even?

You know there’s actually a blood test out now where you can find out if your kid is gay or not? Yeah, it’s an HIV test. I know. OK, I know. It’s not a great joke, I know, but it’s a hundred percent accurate.

I hope we find a cure for every major disease, because I’m tired of walking 5k. I’m pretty sure I don’t have to sweat for cancer. I’ll write a check.

I have high-definition television because I felt the lack of resolution was affecting my ability to solve cases on CSI. I need some more clarity in this house. Have this case wrapped up in a half an hour. That way I don’t have to listen to Gil Grissom ramble on about bugs. We get it. You like maggots. You’re weird. I just burped. Did you guys hear that? It’s weird I’m actually mad because earlier today I had a black and chicken wrap and they forgot the ranch and when I burped I was like “You know what? I’m mad again that there was no ranch on it.” Like that burp would have been better had there been ranch.

Did anybody see the Oprah Winfrey episode where she had a little girl in there born with a rare disease where she didn’t feel pain? Like she put her hand on the stove she knows it’s hot she’d leave it there. It was a nightmare for the parents. They had to check on their child constantly to make sure she wasn’t hurt, because she would never cry. And I got so sad because at that moment I realized I can never have kids. If that was my kid I would’ve been like: “Honey! We have to talk! Our kid is a fucking superhero! Yes! I got her in the UFC fight this weekend. I don’t know. I think she’s gonna do great. I snapped her arm six hours ago. She didn’t tap out! I love her! She will be the next Royce Gracie!”

I love that Kobe Bryant puts out a commercial this year: “Hate me because I’m a champion. Hate me because of my work ethic.” It’s like we hate you because you were accused of rape. What planet does he live in where he’s like: “Seriously guys, why are they pissed off? Because of the rape? Are you sure? That doesn’t add up.” I love basketball and I love college basketball and I’m happy that the NBA finally made a rule change. Forcing high school athletes to play at least one year of college ball. It’s a great rule change for college basketball. I came up with one more. Just for college. Why not let white players get one more point? Right? Who cares? Not gonna affect the games at all. Gonna make them feel like they’re contributing. A valuable lesson to learn in college and to remind the black athletes that no matter how hard they try in this country, they’ll always make less than their white counterpart. Laughter is the right response. White people going “Oooh” is ridiculous. You reap the benefits, you just don’t like it thrown in your face. “I hate making more money for no reason!” Secretly, I love it. I just wanted the black people here to see me go “Oooh!” So they be: “Oh, that most be one of the good white people.” But, you’re not. That’s why they’re gonna shoot you after the show. Oh, how’s that feel, you cracker? My fo-fo makes all your kids don’t grow. Miss you, 2Pac.

I love when people act like they don’t understand why the rest of the world may hate our country. We have a game show in our country called Survivor. That’s a game in our country. Where you can win a million dollars for surviving 30 days in a place where people already live. Do you realize what kind of message that sends? “I’ve been here for 60 years. May I have some bread?” “No. We’re Americans. This is a game. We don’t have our cell phones. This is really hard. I don’t even get service here anyway. I’m a Cingular. They merged with AT&T. I’m suppose to have double the bars. I have no bars. And I hate this island of Wahapui. Which I thought was a shampoo by Paul Mitchell. It’s not. That’s Awapuhi. And it smells good.” You can’t celebrate in football anymore. That’s a rule change. Are you kidding me? If I score a touchdown, which is unlikely because I went undrafted yet again. Despite a solid 40 and great hands. I will celebrate. And I’m not gonna point to the heavens either, I’m gonna go like this. Because God is everywhere. He is. He’s in my soul. He can be in yours you have to invite him. He’s like a vampire. The dude’s got rules. “Stop celebrating and just do your job.” Their job’s to catch a ball. I don’t care if you get in the endzone and have a 10-minute tea party. It’s a game. Just don’t get mad at me when you’re paralyzed from the neck down, being carted off the field cause some free safety took your head off. And you see me in the stand going: “Ho-ho! Dance now, you overpaid clown! How does it feel to know God hates you? Maybe V8 will sponsor a vegetable!” Yeah, moan all you want. I love defense. DE-FENSE! That’s what chant I start in my section. Usually 118, lower bowl. You see me at a football game, I got a big letter D. I’m going: “D!” My friend Carl he’s got a fence. Chain-link not white picket. We’re not faggots. One of us is. It’s gross. Butt sex is a lot like spinach. If you’re forced to have it as a child, you won’t enjoy it as an adult. Am I right? Saw a guy wearing a What Would Jesus Do? bracelet and a Lance Armstrong bracelet and he went up to this blind kid and rubbed his eyes. And the kid could see. And he wasn’t used to the light and it was bright and he walked into traffic and was killed instantly. OK, people that are laughing I’m gonna call you half-full. Because you’re focusing on the important part of the story. The bracelets are working. I took my What Would Jesus Do? bracelet and put it on my Jewish friend’s wrist, it burned his skin. He threw it on the ground, it turned into a serpent. We both started laughing. We left it there. We hate snakes. We think they’re slimy. Even though we know they’re not. Do you get the joke? I’m making fun of people take the bracelets too literally. They’re not magical. They’re a reminder to be a better person, to live a better life. And if you need a rubber band around your wrist to be that, here’s an idea. Take it off and snap yourself in the eye and see if that wakes you. I wore What Would Jesus Do? bracelet. In a movie theater once to see if it worked. A cell phone went off. One of those obnoxious rings where it’s a song. And he didn’t want to answer because the good part’s coming. Then he answers the phone in the theater. “What’s going on? No, I’m in the movies.” This is what I said verbatim and I’m not going to censor myself: “Hey, buddy. Get off the phone, please.” This is what he says to me: “Shut up and mind your own business, asshole.” Ha! Now, there’s trouble in River City. I’m a man. Not much of one, but a man. I will choke you if you’re younger, smaller and preferably white. I had my hands on his neck and then I saw my bracelet staring right back at me. What Would Jesus Do? So I lit him on fire and sent him to hell. I did. I had to. Amen.

I waste so much time in my life. I could’ve accomplished so much more, but I have no dreams. Like real dreams. I sit at home thinking about: “How come nobody with a Lamborghini ever pulls up next to me: ‘Hey, man. You want this car?’ I’m like: ‘Fuck yeah! I do! Yes! I got a Lamborghini today!'” This never happen. Think that’s wasted energy. I want to get rich enough in life that I can afford to release a dozen doves every time I walk into a room. You know people would be: “Did you see that guy come out of the bathroom? The one with doves. It was beautiful. I bet that’s John Woo’s kid.” Oh, balcony appreciating a Woo reference. Front row guy’s going: “Yes.” The rest of you google it. I don’t care.

Hate you, Google. You’ve caused a lot of problems in my relationship. I shared a computer with my girlfriend. She’d look up anything. “I’m gonna look up apples today.” She sets to “A”. Asian ass porn instantly! Google’s like: “I’ll take it from here. I know exactly what you’re looking up. Every time you hit A it’s Asian ass porn!” Google, all I ask is you let her type three letters before you jump to such a bold conclusion. It’s bad enough I’m clearing my history every three hours and changing my passwords. I’m trying to have an honest relationship and you’re fucking my shit up. And guess what? When I’m looking up Asian ass porn, guess who has all the time in the world? Oh, I do. I’ve got the house locked. The plantation shutters are closed. My keyboard is in a safe but reachable distance. Do you appreciate the picture I am painting? I am jerking it in this joke! This is highbrow stuff, guys. I’m gonna be so famous. I shave all my pubes. I don’t know why I looked at you when I said that. But I thought you would appreciate it. Why? Because I’d like to have the fastest sex ever. That’s why. I got three and a half seconds off my best time. Congratulations, little Phelps. Check off swimming joke. Got one! I wrote that joke because my friend’s a swimmer. He’s like: “Why do you shave all your pubes?” I’m like: “Why are you in my bathroom?” “Cause, I enjoy watching you poop.” And I’m like: “Okay no more slumber parties. That’s creepy.” And sure I do it adorable. Both elbows and knees, fingers crossed, chin down. That’s my business. Close the door! I got the Bellagio coming out of my ass, I don’t need an audience. Highbrow poop joke. My father said “Impossible”, I said “Nay”. Top that, Bob Newhart. Do you love goose down feathers? Do you have the trifecta? Mattress pad, pillows, comforter. Oh, it’s like sleeping in heaven. Till that quill comes through the pillowcase and sticks you in the eye. And says: “How’s that feel bitch? Huh? You like sleeping on my carcass? Do you?” Goose why do you hurt so good? Maybe a higher thread count. 600 does the trick. Quit sleeping on 12. That’s hay. Spend the money. It’s 1/3 of your life.

Sorry. My nose itched. Hello, Carol Burnett’s daughter. I think I’m too young for that reference and it doesn’t warrant an “Awww”. When I die, which is gonna be in four years. Yay! It’s the only thing I can plan. I’m gonna be cremated from the neck down. Yeah, then at my funeral when people are talking about me they have to hold my head. And then at the end they have to kick me into the audience and the audience has to keep me up for at least 3 hits or else you have to start the whole service over. And no cradlement. I want legit sets. Anyone seen Karch?

Do you guys daydream about being on the Price Is Right as much as I do? Contestants throw the last bid of the sweet spot. What are you gonna do? You’re the last bidder. “One dollar.” Does your hoodie sweatshirt say “I go to the University of I waste my bid”? Because that’s what you just did. That’s dumb. The best bid statistically you have to muster up some courage to go, OK. “I need to know what the highest bid was. “7.” “OK, 7,1.” “Ruined your day, didn’t I, lady? Huh? You got an awfully small window. Hope you nailed it.” I don’t know why you wanna nail it anyway. So you can go onstage, reach into some old guy’s pocket for a hundred-dollar bill? My grandpa used to do that all the time. There was no hundred-dollar bill. There was a whole in his pocket and no underwear on. Excuse me. Don’t you go “Ooh.” My grandpa was a great man. If wanted his balls touched by a little boy he was gonna to get it. He shed blood for your freedoms and don’t you forget it. I think I’m on the wrong side of that one, I get it.

You ever said the silent prayer when you see the old lady spinning the wheel hoping once in your lifetime she gets caught underneath and it snaps her back right in half? And a pool of blood comes around and lands on a dollar. Bob starts peeing himself. He can’t hold it. Not at that age. It’s dangerous. So he’s peeing, laughing. “Get up bitch! You have a bonus spin!” Take the bonus spin seriously. What are the greens worth in the bonus spin? 5,000. That is a lot of coin. It’s gonna slow your heart rate down, you gonna bid more effectively in the showdown. Now you’re in the one seat, you gonna bid or pass? Bid or pass? Pass! Pass! Of course. It’s rookie! The first showdown? Carpet, couch, the net set. I’m not on the Queer Price Is Right, am I? I signed up the straight one, yeah. I’m gonna send that South. I’d like the second showdown. That one has a waverunner and a camper. It’s a white-trash starter kit. I know, I know. A lot of you’re like: “We don’t even have a trailer hitch.” Screw you. You’re camping in your driveway. Maybe you can buy an inflatable pool so your kid can drown. Or maybe you can spend more than a hundred dollars on a pool. You’re a horrible parent and I’m glad your grass died. Are we down to six people? Perfect. Okay. “Well, I don’t get the last part. I mean, obviously the last, but what? The grass died? What does that mean?” “Well, if you leave the pool out for a day or so it kills your lawn.” “I rent an apartment.” “That joke’s clearly not for you. Maybe if you’re nice I’ll do a poorer version later.” I won’t. I will not. I heart President Bush. President Bush has done some great things. I don’t know if you’re aware of this but ’07, extending daylight savings time two months longer. Yeah, I’m aboard. Thank you. That’s great. Do you not know this? Next year it’s two months longer. It’s not new months like Recktober and Toyotathon. Which I’m sure he tried. “What are you talking about?” “Nevermind. I’m gonna go to the ranch. I’ll see in seven weeks. That storm cut my last one short.” Okay, first of all day light savings time was created for farmers and there’s only four of them left, so I don’t think they warrant half the calendar year. I say keep it 50/50 but instead of one hour forward, ready? Ready? Five hours forward! Suck it! By the way if you ever have a job where you have to give speeches in front of people pepper in the phrase “Suck it!” Very empowered. Just be: “As you can see from our PowerPoint presentation suck it…” And your clients be: “Did he– did he say suck it? I like this guy. He’s a go-getter.” Okay, I say change from 1 to 5 hours forward because people with 9-to-5 jobs you’ve gotten so selfish and complacent with the daylight. You get it all the time. People that work at night, a third of this country according to a survey I made up for this joke, we get robbed. It’s not fair. Half year. 5 hours forward. Means the sun’s rising at noon. Means I don’t feel like such a piece of shit every morning when I’m waking up. I’m like: “Wow, the sun’s just now coming up? I’m might mail a letter and get groceries today. Time for me to turn his life around. Starting tomorrow. Because today there’s a Laguna Beach marathon on MTV. And I’m gonna get caught up on season 3. Try to figure out why they’re so fucking ugly this year.” And that joke’s not even over! Are you kidding me? And sexually transmitted diseases would drop off completely! Oh, I’ll feed you, baby birds. Do you think I’d leave you with a cliffhanger? That’s not my style. 5 hours forward, think about it. That means the sun’s setting at 2 in the morning. Means, guys you are at a bar, pumping drinks into some girl. You get to bring her outside in the daylight. Yeah, you’d be like: “Noo! I had a lovely time this evening, but I will see your ass back in standard time where you belong.” And she’s like: “Oh, he’ll be back. They always come back for my coochie in the dark.” And you will be like: “Thank you, Daniel and your new daylight savings time. You kept me from having sex with a pterodactyl.” And you don’t want to sleep with a pterodactyl. Not at your place. They have a 14 foot wingspan minimum. They’re knocking everything off your counters. Then you have to go to Target, you’re on a budget. That place gets expensive. You go in there for two things, but then you see the frames. Who can pass up brushed silver? “I say we change all our socket covers, not just the bathroom.” Ah, you see that guy? One guy! That’s why I just kept going till one person was like: “Holy shit! That joke had everything! Oh, my goodness! Do you mind if I recap? There was sex, there was pterodactyls, the knickknacks at target. I was just telling you we should change our socket covers. This guy’s more of a prophet less of a comedian.” You’re welcome. You are welcome, sir. I think we should legalize marijuana in this country. Just so potheads have nothing to talk about ever again. Come on! It does get a little annoying after awhile. Just the: “Hey, you want to get high? – “No.” – “Why not?” “Because I’m not in the seventh grade and I have things to do. Why don’t you grow up and do coke like an adult?” Yeah, that’s what I’m talkin’ about! Let’s get some meth! No? Alright. Sorry. I went too far. Oh, nothing like tweaking for 3 days. Am I right? I love flip-flops. Do you? Women it’s OK love them. Men? It’s 50/50 right? Because, you’ve been stuck, you’ve been caught, you’ve been at the airport urinal in your flip-flops. Ha! Not the best time. You’re standing there, your feet get a little wet, you haven’t started yet. Now there’s a problem. You got two choices. You can 1 ignore it live that “Kite Runner” shame as long as you can bottle it. Or you can 2 face your attacker, whisper in his ear: “Thank you. That’s what I like before a flight to Phoenix. Get me ready for the heat.” That is a golden shower and “Kite Runner” reference in the same joke. Almost impossible. Almost impossible. I pull it off because I care. Alright. I’m pro-gay marriage. Just the idea of having a man around the house. Finally I get some stuff done. “Let’s go! We got chores this weekend!” “God hates queers!” That’s me pretending to be a right-wing redneck radical protesting. Not double-fisting a black cock. You have to have the right visual or this joke’s gonna hold no weight. “Oh, he’s picketing! Okay, that makes sense.” “That didn’t look like picketing. That last part didn’t look like that.” “God made Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve!” Do you wanna know the answer between a religion and gays? Look in the Bible. Look at Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden. We all know who sinned first. Come on ladies. Do you have to eat everything? No, I know. You were hungry. There was a snake talking to you. Stick to that story. That’s scary. If a snake told me: “Eat an apple.” I’d be: “Alright. I didn’t know you could talk! Oh, man. I hope it’s a Granny Smith. I like those. Those are sour. If it’s a Golden Delicious I’m like: “Leave me alone, snake! I’m eating peaches. You talk to me in 2 months when Fuji apples are ready.” And chronologically that joke is accurate. I know a lot about apples. Now we have to be punished for all mankind? Because of you women eating an apple? What was women’s punishment? Do you even know? Painful childbirth, menstrual cycles. Man’s punishment? We have to deal with women. That’s why I get so upset with: “God hates gays!” God doesn’t hate gay people, he’s just upset because they found a loophole in the system. Wouldn’t that upset you if you came up with a great punishment and they’re: “We are just gonna sleep with each other.” Yeah, it’s a lot easier than listening to that: “Listen, listen, listen, listen, listen, listen, listen, if I lost a leg would you still love me?” “What? No! A leg? Are you kidding me? That’s a bold move to test our love with a limb. You could’ve started with a fingernail, found out real quick I’m shallow. You lose a leg, I saw a guy on the freeway you’d be perfect for. Matchmaker! Honestly, girls. If there’s any woman in here that ends up dating me and you lose your leg. God forbid, I hope it doesn’t happen. But if you do and we’re dating, the only thing you can be sure of is: I will push you over. All right. I will push over and be like: “You aint’ no Weeble Wobble!” “You aint’ no Weeble Wobble!” My job is so good. That whole joke, that whole stupid long joke is just to get to a point where I can yell: “You ain’t no Weeble Wobble!” I always think it’s funny when guys find out that somebody is pregnant. And you’re a guy and you’re always talking and arguing: “Hey! Bet you hope it’s a boy! Ha? You want a boy? Right? You want a boy?” This is cheesy to say this, but in my heart, honestly, I just hope it’s black. “Thank God! I’m out of here! That was close. Sorry you have to give up on your dreams. I’m gonna go back to being selfish.” Everybody get the joke? It’s not my kid. Because I’m white. I know! Oh. You guys waited. “Is he white? Oh, he is white!” That joke is safe after all. You ever notice when people talk about where they live is a good place to raise kids what they’re trying to say is: “Where I live is really segregated.” Little too close to home for you Orange County? Got it. Got it. You definitely win that round. I didn’t have a privileged childhood like a lot of you. I grew up on a public golf course and that’s embarrassing. I lived on the right side of the fairway. All these hacks slicing into my yard. You don’t hear a four when you’re mowing. Nothing runs like a Deere, till there’s a Titleist lodged in your carburetor. Public golf course. Way to aim for the middle, dad! Thank you. That joke actually hurts to say, but I can do it. I think this country is ready for another Civil War. Because these NASCAR fans are out of control. Oh, there’s the line. I’ve drawn it. Pick your side. Let’s do battle. I hate NASCAR and I hate hunting. Let’s combine them. Every year at Daytona 500 we release thousands of deer on the infield. Let him roam wherever they want. No restrictor plates at this race. I want top speed. 215 plus. They’re hitting deer. They’re exploding. People in the front row they’re treating it like a Gallagher show with plastic, you know. As guts come flying over the wall. Some lucky toothless broad jumps up: “I got antlers from Jr. This is the best day of my life! Y’all wanna see my titties?” What? No. Ok. Now if we can just incorporate spousal abuse it will be like a redneck triathlon. By the way, everything I say is wrong. I get it. I don’t– I’m a complete hypocrite. I’ve dated girls with boob jobs, breast enlargement. But, she was an A cup. That’s gross. Get it fixed, girl. You’re not even real woman. I know. You wanna scream at me, but you can’t. Because your training bra’s too tight. Now, she didn’t go overboard like a lot of girls do. She got a nice full double D. Classy. She had a 5’3 frame. It worked. She put squeak toys in there, I thought that was a wonderful decision. She was a clown, so it was a tax write-off. She was a sad face clown. I could never tell if she was really happy. I’d be in the bedroom for hours: “Are you there yet, Snickers? And she’d just be… “Well, could you untie my penis out of a puddle? It’s really starting to hurt.” That’s how clowns blow you. I don’t know how to do it. It’s an Asian method. And by Asia, I’m mean eastern Russia. None of that Indonesia stuff which involves a pinky around back. I don’t like it. I do like it, but on stage I say i don’t. I’m not an open book. “Guy had sex with clown. That’s disgusting. I mean it’s awesome.” No, it’s not, guy who’s still high fives. Soon as you take off the wig, the funny shoes, she’s just like any other retarded girl. I loved her. Supported her. She was in the Olympics. The ones you’re not suppose to laugh at. But when you watch the hurdles, they knock over every single one. You start to giggle. Now you’re going to hell. That’s not fair. They’re supposed to be athletes. Reube in lane 6 is chewing on the second hurdle. Sorry, I found that funny. I’ll tell you what’s not funny. They sell those foam hands “You’re number 1” except they’re shaped like that. How does that build character? Thank you. People that are laughing with your hand away from your mouth. That joke is clearly not for everyone. But I enjoy watching people that don’t laugh make the people that do laugh, feel shitty about themselves. Because, you’re all hypocrites. Televise the special winter Olympics. You’re not gonna watch? Really? “Is that guy’s standing up in the bobsled? Oh, yeah. Does he know the tunnel’s coming? Why did he pick today not to wear the helmet?” “You don’t make fun of me. I’m a handicap.” I agree with you balcony. Even though you sound like half a tard to begin with. Maybe you shouldn’t be the group spokesperson. You don’t. For many reasons. First of all they have the strength of 10 men. Which is equivalent to one chimpanzee. That’s why if you ever see retarded chimpanzee you turn and run. Okay? Because, that thing is a borderline superhero. But, Hollywood on their moral high horse, they won’t make movies about a retarded chimp. Unless of course you count a Vin Diesel movie. Which I do. Which I do. And in all fairness to me, if you’re a Vin Diesel fan, you shouldn’t be here watching me, anyway. You should be at home coloring, praying your next one gets on the refrigerator. But it won’t, because elephants aren’t orange, you idiot. Thanks a lot you guys. Have a good night.

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