Please welcome Louis C.K.! Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you, thanks, that’s very nice. Hello, everybody. How are ya? Woo! Good, thanks for- thank you, oh, good. Thanks, thanks for coming, thanks for being here. Thanks for not dying before you got here. Which could’ve happened. – Thanks for getting through the traffic. I drove here, and on the way here I saw a bumper sticker on a car, and it said, uh, it said “tell your girlfriend I said thanks.” isn’t that a little personal for a bumper sticker, really? A bumper sticker should be like, “hey, I’m in front of you, buh-baa,” whatever, you know. Not, “hey, I fucked your girlfriend.” You really want that on your car all day for whoever’s behind you? “tell your girlfriend I said thanks,” how does he know I’m not behind him just getting mad, and… Crazy, taking it personal, “motherfucker… ” I follow him home, I get out of my car in his driveway with a pipe, “what the fuck does that mean?” thank her for what, exactly? – wait a minute, you fucked my girlfriend? Then you made that bumper sticker and found me in traffic and got in front of me? Woo! Motherfucker. And I just beat him to death with a pipe right there in his driveway, mm, mm! And jerk off on his corpse. Didn’t need that part. Didn’t need it. The story was totally complete without the jerking off on the corpse. It’s too late.
I was at a bar the other night, it doesn’t matter where because I’m lying. But, um- I was… – I was at a bar, and, uh, um, I was waiting for the bathroom for a really long time, there was a guy in the bathroom and I’m waiting for him. And then after a while, this guy that works there walks by, he goes, “are you still waiting?” and I’m like, “yeah.” So he bangs on the door and he goes, “come, asshole, shit and get out!” and then he walks away.
I was in New York, I went to a-uh, I went to this Polish meat place in New York, and I go to the guy at the counter, I was like, “hey, could I get a sandwich?” and he’s like, “yes!” and he just made me a sandwich. Heh, heh, heh. That was it, he didn’t ask me what kind or anything, he just made it. It had, like, raisins and bones in it. What the fuck? – people from other countries eat weird food, man.
I was in Chinatown, and, uh, you know one of the groceries- I know that’s not another country, but, uh, you know – ha ha ha – you-you know the grocery stores in Chinatown, they’re for the Chinese people, they eat their actual food, and, uh, I was in one of those, and they-they had duck vaginas, I swear to god. A huge barrel of fuckin’ duck vaginas… With a scoop stuck in it. Yeah! – and I’m standing there just staring at this fucking huge… And I’m thinking, could we possibly dominate a species more than that? – than that-we’re selling their vaginas in a fucking barrel. – Ducks are just like, “dudes… Jesus. “You won the war, take it easy, you don’t have to sell our vaginas.” – I didn’t get any, because I don’t want to know- what if I love duck vaginas? I don’t want to find out. – It’s not like millions of things taste like a fucking duck vagina, it would be very specific to be addicted to that. Not for me.
I have this friend, he has a phone that can “im,” he can instant message, and so now I really want him to die, because I’m sick of getting these fucking messages from him on his phone. “I’m in a show store.” that’s the whole message! We’re not secret agents, I don’t need to know where you are. So I get this message from him, he says, “I’m on an airplane in Seattle.” So I wrote back and I said, “well, I hope your plane crashes.” – And he gets pissed off and he calls me, “take it back, we’re about to take off.” I’m like, “fuck you, I hope it crashes. I don’t have to take it back.” Hope it crashes twice. Hope it crashes and kills half of you and they go, “fuck it, let’s fly again,” and they take off and crash again. I hope that happens. Sincerely I hope it. And he-he tries to make it-he goes, “well, how are you gonna feel now if my plane crashes after you went and said that?” I’m like, are you shittin’ me? That would be amazing! To know that I can do that? I’d happily trade your life for knowledge of my powers.
He’s one of those guys who just makes you hate him, because, uh, you know when you have a friend that you hate? You can’t break up with your friends, you know? He always starts conversations that I don’t want to have. You know, he’s like, “hey, what would you do if you had a time machine?” I’m like, fuck you. I don’t – you know what? I wouldn’t use it. I’d just let it sit in my house. I’d put a drink on it, you know, I got a time machine, I never even went in it. I don’t know, I’m not interested. I’d use it to go back 30 minutes ago and punch you in the fucking face before you ask me that. That’s all. One use. So he goes, “well, here’s what I would do.” ‘Cause of course that’s the whole fucking point of asking me, is to stare at me while I say mine and then say his. So he said if he had a time machine, he would’ve killed Hitler, like, he would go back and kill Hitler. I love that he thinks he could just kill Hitler just ’cause he just goes back there and walk up and kill the dude. And I was thinking, that’s a noble purpose for a time machine, I would do that. But I would’ve gone back with him but I wouldn’t have killed Hitler. I would’ve raped him. That’s what I thought. Because I think that would’ve been enough, I think that would’ve stopped him from doing all that shit. If he had been raped by me, he never would’ve pulled any of that stuff, man. “Should we invade Poland?” “No, I’ll just take a shower, I don’t feel good.” – low self- esteem, and, you know…
I’m not condoning rape, obviously, you should never rape anyone. Um, unless you have a reason, like you want to fuck somebody and they won’t let you, in which case, uh… – what other option do you have? How else are you supposed to have an orgasm in their body if you don’t rape them? Like, what the fuck? Ha ha ha. Ok. That’s fucked up.
So, here’s a weird thing that happened to me. I have this, uh, I have this t-shirt, and it says “awesome possum” on it. And it’s got a picture of a possum. I know it’s stupid, but a friend of mine gave it to me- fuck you, I bought it. I thought it was cool. But, uh, I- I’d never seen anybody with that same shirt before, with the awesome possum shirt, and I was in this coffee place in L.A., you know, like a coffee-not like, uh, like Starbucks, like an indie coffee place where all the cool people go, and they’re like, ooh- eh-heh-eh-heh… – they got their, like, snow hats in the fucking summer and all that shit, you know, those cool people. Huh, uh, and their iPods. And they say cool things like, “yeah, me, too.” or whatever, you know. – And I just stand in the doorway and fucking hate them. I don’t know why I go to the place, I think it’s ’cause I hate them. I just hate- there’s a certain part of the culture I just hate. ‘Cause I grew up in Boston, and in Boston, people just beat the shit out of each other. For no reason. They just beat the shit out of each other. But I kind of think you need that, you know, to keep quality control. ‘Cause in places where that doesn’t happen, people are justoo free, and fuckin’- they’re just a bummer, you know?
Like I was once on Venice beach and I’m jogging, and there’s this guy rollerblading towards me. And he’s-he’s got rollerblades on, and just a thong, just a fucking thong, that’s just grabbing this dick and balls and just fighting with it, going, “ah, stay in there!” – and then he’s just total naked otherwise, and he’s got this Kenny “g” hair, and he’s just rollerblading, like- “I’m free!” – and I actually had to stop jogging, ’cause I needed my whole body to fucking hate this guy with. I had to just… – stand there going, “oh, you motherfucker.” – Now I have to know you exist, you piece of shit. Fucking go skate into an aids tree, you motherfucker.
All right, now. I don’t know, I’ve started to kind of hate people, and it’s not because I have anything against them, it’s just I-I enjoy it, it’s just recreation. Like, you know when you’re at the bank and you got nothing to do while you’re waiting in line, so you just pick people to hate while you’re waiting? You just look at someone and form an opinion with no information. And it’s never positive. Who fucking wastes their time- “I bet he’s a hard worker.” Who thinks about that shit? – Skip over those people. Then you find a guy- “oh, look at his shoes, what a fucking asshole. Oh, look at that piece of shit, hope he dies today. Oh, god, I hate him.” “I hate him!” you watch all the shit- “yeah, fill that out, you fuck face. “fill it out. Yeah, you filled it out, I knew it. You suck.” he’s just standing there, he has no idea you’re just boiling with hate, you know? – I feel people hating me sometimes, you know, like, uh, I was at the post office, and I’m at the line-you know, it was one of those things where there’s a long line and one window open. So everyone is just like, “aah!” everyone’s mad. But when you’re in the line, you’re in the hate group. You get to be part of the group, and you’re all looking at each other going, “huh, huh… ” “hmm,” like a silent movie of impatient people, you know. Then there’s always one person who breaks the silence, somebody who has an idea, you know, like- “they should open another window.” – and everybody’s like, “yeah, I know, “totally, they don’t even know. They don’t even know how to do anything.” – then there’s always an old lady who has a story. “I was here on Wednesday… ” – “and there was also a line like this.” Holy shit, really?! Oh, my god, you fucking old lady, that’s amazing! – well, anyway, then it’s your turn at the window, right? And now everybody’s looking at you, and you feel the scrutiny of how quickly you’re mailing your shit, you start realizing how unimportant your package is, and you feel like they can tell. “Fuck, get out of there. You don’t need to mail that right now.” And it’s like… – If you do one little extra thing like, “do you have those stamps that have Jackie Robinson?” behind your ear, like, you hear, “pfff, Jesus. Fuck it, dude.” They put their shit down heavily like, “fuck! “Now this motherfucker’s gonna make me stand here “while he buys fucking stamps at the post office? “Are you shitting me? “let’s shit in his mouth right now, seriously. “Let’s-you fucking hold him down, and I will shit directly into his fucking time-wasting mouth.”
But anyway, yeah, so I was in the coffee place, uh, with the young people. And they’re- “ooh, heh, heh, heh,” and I’m standing in the doorway just fantasizing about walking around just hitting their cups to the floor, like this, you know. Bagel, and coffee… And bagel… Ha ha ha. And I see this guy, he’s like 20 years old, and he has the “awesome possum” shirt. Just like mine! So, I went like this, I went, like, “hey, nice shirt.” And he went, “pfff”, and he walked away, like I’m a piece of shit. And I stood there, and I was so mad, I just thought, “fuck him, man. We have the same shirt!” It’s an unusual shirt. It’s perfectly appropriate to fucking do this shit. – Why does he have to make me feel like an old fag just ’cause I want to make a connection with another human being? Is his generation just too cool and ironic, “eh, ooh, that’s lame. The older guy wanted to- ooh, heh, eh.” Fucking young cunt, I hope he dies. Like, that’s how-that’s how mad I was. – And as I’m standing there, like, in that anger, I look down and I realize I’m not wearing the shirt, I don’t have it- ha ha ha ha. I don’t know why I thought I did, I just- I saw his, and- “duh, me too, duh! Duh!”
Hey, this is interesting. The other day, a guy told me to suck a bag of dicks. That was interesting. I never heard that before. Total stranger told me to suck a bag of dicks. A whole bag of them! He was angry, he didn’t just, you know, “suck a bag of dicks,” like a greeting. “oh, suck a bag of dicks to you, too, sir, thank you very much.” yes. It’s a lovely day for sucking several bags of dicks. Ha ha. No, what happened was, I- I cut him off in traffic. It was just one of those things where it just- I had to get in, and no one was in my car to judge me, and I just fucking, you know, I just decided- he’s not me, so I don’t care what happens to him, and I just cut him off, it was just a shitty thing to do. And it was bad, ’cause he was coming fast ’cause he didn’t imagine in a million years someone could be that big of an asshole. And so when I did it, he had to slam on his brakes, and his dog went pff! In the windshield, it was really very bad. – very bad. And the worst part is, when you cut people off, they don’t vanish, they’re behind you now, so… – looking back and he’s like, “fucking ass!” and he’s so mad! And he keeps trying to get next to me, ’cause he just wants to see my fucking face. He’s just dying, he’s like, “I gotta see this cocksucker, now. I gotta see the fucking face of the piece of shit that just did that to me.” and I keep cutting him off, ’cause I don’t want him to see I’m ashamed of what I did. No-nope you don’t. Finally we get to a red light, and I gotta face him, only ’cause there’s a car in front of me, otherwise I would’ve fucking blown right through there. But there he is, just- “rr-aah!” just furious. And I’m going, like, “yeah, I know, it was awful, “I shouldn’t have done it. I’m not mad, I was wrong, why would I be mad?” and he’s like, “well, fuck you!” then he starts going like this, ’cause he wants me to roll my window down. Like I’m supposed to take part in my own abuse, during this argument. “oh, I’m sorry, I don’t want to miss this. What do you have to say about me, yes?” – “how rude of me to shut out your anger with my-” so I did, I rolled it down, I’m interested. – and he goes, “hey, asshole!” I’m like, “yeah?” he says, “suck a bag of dicks!” then he drove away. And I was kind of sad that he drove away, because I had a lot of questions. – that concept of sucking a bag of dicks, it’s just weird. Like, first of all, when you picture a bag of dicks… – what do you see when you picture a bag of dicks? Is it like a plastic bag and they’re all mushing together like chicken parts- – with a date written on it with sharpie, keep it in the freezer. Or is it, like, a paper bag and they’re sticking out like baguettes, kinda like? You went shopping- bringing home the bag of dicks for the kids. – here you go, Susie, take a blue one, you know? Ha ha ha, I don’t know, they were hanging in a window somewhere, “give me two of those.” and how do you suck a bag of dicks? What does he want me to do? Does he want me to take a bag of dicks and suck it-like suck the side of the bag? Or do-does he want me to open the bag and suck each dick individually? – throw the used ones in a bowl like edamame shells? Like that? – do I have to make them all come? You know, like how- – I don’t know, I never even sucked one dick, so it’s not an area that I understand. I’ve never-I’ve never sucked a dick. Isn’t that weird? I’ve never sucked a dick. My whole life. That’s weird to me. It is, it’s weird. Because almost everybody has sucked a dick. When you think about it, most people on earth suck dicks. It’s true. Because 51% of the population are women, and they suck dicks, then there’s all the gay guys that suck dicks, then there’s all the straight guys who have been forced to suck a dick under various circumstances, so, what, there’s only like a thousand of us out there who’ve- never blew anyone. Just a bunch of selfish assholes that are fuckin’ gettin’ blown and not blowing back, you know? It’s like, that’s what people do, we all fuckin’ suck dicks and I haven’t done it, and- I don’t have, like, a big reason not to, either. I don’t have a policy against sucking a dick, it’s not something I’m against doing, I just have never seen a dick I wanted to suck. That’s really what it comes down to. I’ve never seen a penis that inspired me to suck it. Every dick I’ve ever seen has bummed me out, I hate ’em, I-I hate them. They ruin my day when I see them, but that’s just so far. – I mean, what the fuck do I know? There might be the-this guy right here might have a beautiful dick, this guy- if I saw his dick… – woo! – I might go, “oh, fuck, that shit’s going in my mouth right now,” and I’d just fucking- and I’d have to blow him. – Fucking hold him down and blow him. That’s the kinda-I would, like, rape blow people, that’s what I would-like, hold the guy down and blow him to spite him. That’s the kind of shit I would do. Just to, you know… – I’m just saying I’m not prejudiced. I haven’t seen that many, there’s billions- literally, billions of dicks in the world, and I’ve seen, like, 40 at the most, so how the fuck would I know? What, is that too many? – ha ha, yeah, that’s too many, right? 40, Jesus Christ. I’m only 39, that’s a dick a year plus another one. Why am I saying 40? That’s a lot. That’s like 2 bags of dicks right there, at least, 40 dicks?
All right. – I ver understood people, uh, uh- judging people for the way they have sex. Some people get angry at homosexuals just for being gay, they get mad at them, urr! I never really understood that, you know? Because they’re just having sex with each other. It’s not-like I could understand if gay people were just running out in the streets just fucking people in the ass willy-nilly, just like a pestilence. Like, without asking, you know? Like you’re at the atm, “hey! What the fuck? “Jesus, god damn it. “some faggot just fucked me right in the ass. “seriously! “fucking right through my pants, he fucking ruined my new pants. This is fucking bullshit.” – “Another one- god damn it! I gotta get the fuck home. This is ridiculous.” – but they generally don’t do that, so I don’t know what the fucking problem is. People get mad. They don’t want them to get- “don’t get married.” Well, you don’t have to go to the wedding. What the fuck? You don’t have to buy them anything. It doesn’t matter. Some people go, like, “well, then a guy will marry his dog.” Good, fucking-I hope he blows his dog- who gives a shit? It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t have any effect on your life. What the fuck do you care? Or people that try to think-talk like it’s a social issue. Like when you see someone stand up in a talk show and say, “how am I supposed to explain to my child… That two men are getting married?” I don’t know, it’s your shitty kid, you fucking tell them. Why is that- yone else’s problem? Two guys are in love but they can’t get married ’cause you don’t want to talk to your ugly child for fucking 5 minutes? – who fucking cares about your shitty kid? He’s probably a faggot anyway. – How stupid is that? All right. Stupid. I don’t know.
The only, um, thing that bums me out, though, is that you’re not supposed to laugh at gay people when they’re funny. ‘Cause sometimes they just are. They’re funny, like, I lived in New York for a lot of my life, and in my neighborhood, everybody was gay, and-and, you know, some guys are just a guy walking down the street, but some gay guys are a guy in little shorts and a half shirt, and, you know, combat boots spray-painted green, and a whistle, and he’s standing on the corner going, “hello! It’s fucking hot outside.” that’s not a stereotype. Those guys fucking exist by the thousands. And when I see them I laugh really loud, I just do. And people are like, “don’t laugh at him ’cause he’s gay.” no, I’m not, I’m laughing ’cause he’s fucking weird and silly! He’s hilarious. – how am I supposed to react? Hello! Oh, hello, hello, yes? Seriousness is-yes. It’s stupid.
The only-actually, the one guy I would blow, uh- based on- based on who he is, is Ewan McGregor. There is this one guy out there, I gotta say, that I have no gay inclinations except for I met this fucking dude in person, I was working on some awards show, and there he’s standing, right there, and I was like, fuck! Like, I was just blown away. Like, Jesus Christ, he’s fucking beautiful! – and he looked at me, and he’s like, “hello.” and I was like- I fucking shivered, like, I started shivering, like, fuck! He’s fuckin’ gorgeous. – and like a week later, I was just-I was, like, staring off into space somewhere, and I realized- fuck! I was just daydreaming about Ewan McGregor! – like, seriously, I’m not gay in any other way except for I want touck that guy right in the face, I totally want to fuck his face. I want to fuck the shit out of his face. I want him to fucke. I do, I want him to fuck me. Oh. I don’t really have a shot with him, I think, because- ha ha ha ha! I just don’t rape movie stars, I’m not really- I’m fucking fat. It’s ridic-like, I even wear- like, I have this problem now, my pants keep- like, I can’t keep them- they won’t stay up, because-here’s what happens. Ok, you get fat, and some of you skinny people- won’t-I don’t give a shit about you, won’t get this. I hate skinny people because they don’t empathize with fat guy problems. They just don’t-like, you ever have a skinny friend, your trying to tell them, like, I just-I just wish I could have 1 donut and fucking walk away, I wish I could do that, I wish I had the power to eat a donut, and… And your skinny friend’s like- well, just eat the donut, then, what’s the big deal? You should totally… – just have a donut if you want one, you should totally go ahead and have one. Just enjoy yourself, have a donut if you like them. Fuck you, you don’t get it. It’s a whole- spiral that begins with the donut, later I’m killing hookers, I don’t even remember what happened. – but, so, here’s what happens. You get fat, and your pants start to get tight. Right? And then you get fatter, ’cause it’s not like, “oh, I’ll stop eating now,” you know? – and then suddenly, all your pants fucking hurt. Like, every pair of pants hurts. And then you eat even more, ’cause it’s like, “fuck it now, man, who even cares?” – fat shit. Fucking obsessed with food. I went to this fucking, uh, uh, thing with my wife and kids where it was like the kids and their kid friends and it’s just a house full of assholes, you know, that have kids. And I’m just standing there, “fuck it, I just want to kill myself.” I just want a bomb to drop on the whole house and take us all out. And I get in there, but then there’s a plate of cookies. And, like, as soon as I’m like, that’s what I’m doing, I’m eating every fucking cookie on that plate. That’s what I’m here-that’s what this all is, is fucking that. So-and you have to have a strategy, you know. You can’t just fucking, uh, you can’t just fucking stand there and just fucking- – you have to, like, sort of keep rediscovering the cookies, you know? You have to walk over, go like, “oh, hey… ” – so, who brought those? That’s cool… You do this, this means, like, I totally could not eat it, but fuck it, I’ll just- don’t want to hurt the people’s feelings who brought the cookies. Mm, that’s interesting, I could take it or leave it. Totally fucking radar back there. Ok, new people around the dish, do it again-“hey… ” – if people start noticing, you have to say something like, “these are crazy, like, I’m addic- I don’t know what it is about them.” yeah, it’s the fucking cookies, it’s not “you’re a piece of shit that can’t stop eating anything.” but, um… So here’s what happens, though, you get fat enough, though, what happens is your belly starts to push out like this, and then it pushes your pants down to your pelvis, ’cause they won’t hang in the normal place anymore. And then down there, they feel loose, and you start going, “hey! Losing weight, eh? I’m coming down!” – “my pants are getting loose, I am getting thinner. I ate my way through to the other side, I did!” – fuck it, I don’t give a shit, I’m fat. Look at this shit. I don’t fucking care. Look at that. – woo! – I don’t care. It’s just a sweaty ball of fucking flesh. I don’t care. Look how fucked up this is, too, it goes right in. Like, it goes at a right angle and hits my pelvis. It doesn’t, like, slope back down. It fucking goes in, and then back up. It’s fucked up. – like, when I’m in the shower and I’m scrubbing like this, when I get down there, I gotta turn in like this, I gotta actually make a turn. I gotta fuckin’ cut in… Where the crevice gets fucking filthy. It’s ridiculous. – it is, it’s like a theater seat. There’s like fucking- receipts and shit, and popcorn, and- – fucking kids toys, and, oh, fuck, what the hell? My body’s just falling apart, man, I got tits now, too. I just got tits. – and that is a fucked up day in a man’s life… When you look in the mirror and you realize-fuck, I got- ’cause you don’t see them coming! They’re sort of pouting out, little by little, and then one day, they just fucking fall a little, and that’s it, you have tits. And they’re there for good, they’re not gonna, like, go back, it’s fucking over. That’s the thing is that I’m 39, I’m not gonna get better. I’m not going to be all ripped when I’m 48. It’s fucking over. It’s this or a lot worse for the rest of my life. But the tits were the worst, ’cause I used to laugh at guys with tits, that shit ain’t funny to me anymore. – ’cause that was an awful moment, I’m just standing there looking, and-got all these feelings. They must be the same feelings that a teenage girl has when she gets her tits! It must be the same… It’s the only thing that a 12-year-old girl and a 40-year-old man have in common is that moment. Nothing! Have to carry my books like this now. – I don’t know. You know what the thing is? I don’t give a shit. I don’t care about how I look. I’m bald, I’m fat, I don’t give a fuck. I’m married, I got 2 kids, and my wife hates me, what, am I gonna get laid if I lose a few pounds? Who fuckin’ cares? Like I’m gonna get mad pussy if I suddenly look better? No. That shit is over for me forever. And I’m glad, I really am. I’m relieved. Now when I see a beautiful girl walking down the street, I’m like, “hey, fuck you, I don’t give a shit.” – ew. Go fuck somebody else, I’ll jerk off to you later, probably have a better time. – not like she would’ve fucked the shit out of me anyway, you know, like she would’ve given me her best. I never really got the best out of a beautiful woman. I had sex with a few beautiful women, and they didn’t really rock out on my dick so much. It was more like, kind of like, “all right, why not, give it a-he’s kind of funny,” you know, just sort of a- begrudging fuck in a weird situation with a lot of regret afterwards. I’ve been there, like-I was in Oklahoma city, and I slept with this beautiful-beautiful woman, she was so hot, and she got really drunk and she fucked me, and the next morning, I wake up and she’s looking at me, she’s like, “oh, god. Oh, Jesus Christ. Oh, my, I can’t believe ya’ll got to fuck me. I can’t believe-” she was bummed ou I feel like-I think she felt like she had raped herself with my dick, that’s actually, like, how she felt. – that’s so weird to realize that you were somebody’s bottom, like, you are somebody’s place that they got to. That they sayou in their bed and went, “oh, fuck. “ok, all right. “I gotta totally stop all this shit now. “fuck… “f-I gotta-oh, I gotta go back to school, “I gotta fuckin’- – concile with my dad, I- oh, fuckin’ shit.” I never had a period in my life where I was, like, really going hog-wild with the babes. I had a-it was late for me when I started having sex, I was 18 before anything happened to me, uh, my girlfriend gave me a hand job. First thing that happened to me sexually ever, and I mean, it was awesome, it was great. Because, uh, nobody had ever touched my dick, nobody in the world had touched my dick. My dick had touched a lot of things- because- that’s what you do when you’re a young boy, you touch your dick to many surfaces around the world, just fucking looking for anything that feels good enough-that, uh, you don’t have to talk to a girl. That’s the whole… But finally I got this girlfriend, and we’re making out, and she reached down, and she put her hand around my dick, and I fuckin’ lost-first of all, I came immediately, and also I started farting as I came. And – ha ha ha ha, no – I started farting, it wasn’t just-ph, ph, ph! It was throughout, and she’s laughing. Phh, phh-“ha ha ha ha!” that’s how my sex life started, ok? That’s how it started. Fucking shame and depression.
Before that, I was, uh, it was just me masturbating copiously, happily, I loved it. When I discovered masturbation, I was so happy. I loved it, everybody loves it, nobody’s-“uh, this fucking sucks,” it’s pretty universally liked. But, uh- I, um,- I remember when I first started, and I thought I was the only one doing it. And then I told my friend Jeff, and, uh, he was doing it, too. So we start-that’s his real name, too, it’s kind of fucked up that I’m saying his name, but anyway, we were- – we were comparing notes about how we masturbated. And I did it, you know, well, I was 11, so I was going like this, which- I actually did it like this for a long time, ’cause nobody teaches you how to jerk off. So, like, even once my dick grew, I kept doing it like this. And then I saw a movie where somebody went like that, and I was like, “oh, fuck, the whole hand! That is genius!” awesome! – easily one of the best fucking things I ever discovered. I still sometimes-this is, ah, so smart. So smart to use the whole hand, awesome! To this day, and I’m like, fucking, uh, whoever-fucking, yeah, awesome. – but anyway, Jeff did it totally differently. Jeff didn’t, uh, he-would lie on his stomach. He would lay on his stomach and press his dick into his palm really hard, and he enjoyed the pressure. And, uh, some kids do it like that, I looked it up-by the way, it fucks your dick up so don’t do it, don’t do it, it’s- it does fuck your dick up, but he didn’t know so he was pushing his dick into his palm, and I think sometimes he would put a book on the other-behind his hand, like, he just liked the pressure. And he couldn’t get enough pressure, so he said to me, maybe if I sat on his ass while he did this- it would be better. So I did, I sat on his ass- – and I remember that moment, I’m sittin’ on Jeff’s ass… – while he jerked himself off, and I remember thinking to myself, isn’t this gay that I’m doing this? – or am I just a really good friend? Maybe I’just a good friend. – it’s weird to think now that I fucking sat on an 11-year-old boy’s ass while he masturbated. I mean, I was 11, so it was cool. Now I’d get fucking crucified for that shit. Ha ha ha! I didn’t know what I had, boy. Eh, let her go. All right, easy… Wheezy.
Hah, anyway… So now I’m married, and, uh, the sex is very different when you’re married ’cause it doesn’t, uh, exist, actually. – I was talking to a friend of mine about how my wife and I don’t really fuck anymore, and he said, “well, does she blow you at least?” what are you, fucking high? You think she’s blowing me? Who wants to blow their husband? Who the fuck would want to – what a bummer to blow your husband. You don’t want to blow your husband, you want to blow your date, that’s who you want to blow. You want to blow a guy you’ve been dating, and you don’t quite know him yet. He comes over and picks you up, “ooh! “that’s a new shirt, I never saw that shirt on him. It’s very handsome.” You go to dinner, he’s like, “here, try this.” “Oh, new things, I like new things.” Tells you something funny, makes you laugh, “ooh! He shouldn’t say that, oh, he shouldn’t, oh.” Tells you a sad story, “oh-oh, my god… ” – you go back to his place, you suck his cock, and you go home, that’s the proper context for a blowjob. – Nobody wants to blow a guy and then go to Ikea with him all day, that’s not fun. – Do his shitty laundry, and then he comes out, “hey, suck my dick, ok? Will you suck my dick right now?” “Yes, I’m fucking dying to suck your smelly old fucking “disgusting dick for the thousandth time. I can’t fuckin’ wait.”
My, um, my wife gave me a hand job, uh, the other day, and, uh, I gotta tell you that I think that that hand job was probably the saddest thing that ever happened in America, it really was- the saddest fucking thing. That hand job was so tragic, there should be, like, a monument to that hand job… With a reflecting pool where you just sit and think, oh, that was fucking sad. – little thing where you put rocks on it and think about it, and, you know… Ha ha ha. Here’s what happened. I’m gonna tell you about this hand job. Um… – my wife and I were home in the middle of the day, uh, the baby was asleep on our bed, the 4-year-old is wherever the fuck she goes all day- and, um… – my wife and I are sitting on the couch, just sitting there, just fucking married on the couch, you know? Just-and my wife looked at me, and I don’t know where she got this sort of sense that I was- she said something like, “hey, we have to go to that thing for the-” and I was like, “oh, who gives a shit?” like, I don’t know what it was that tipped her off that I was starting to feel real bad- here’s the thing- is that as far as sex, for guys it’s just not comp- we just need to release, that’s all it is, we just-we just need it. Women, it’s like a fucking emotional thing, where they need-we need to come just ’cause we need to, women, it’s like they get into it. They shiver and then they lie on their side and cry after and all that kind of it. But-but for guys it’s just something that we need to do so that we won’t murder people, that’s all it is, really. – Just maintenance, open the fucking valve once in a while, please. The city should put a red tag on the dick that has a psi level that’s unacceptable. – And my wife always waits till it’s fucking way-like, till it’s critical. She lets it go so long, until finally we’re sitting on the couch and she looks at me- “ok, we’re gonna all be in the paper tomorrow if I don’t fucking do something.” So… She doesn’t want to fuck me, she doesn’t want to blow me, so she looks at me and she goes- “well… Would you like a hand job?” – I’m like, “uh, yeah, that sounds awesome.” – so we go upstairs to my daughter’s room, ’cause it’s the only empty room in the house- – ohh! – hey, you know what? Fuck you, I pay the rent, I’ll shit on her bed if I want to. Seriously. Let me have a fucking hand job in my house. It’s all I get. It’s not me, she won’t jerk me off in the living room ’cause there’s too much nice shit I’m not allowed to come on. That’s the whole thing. I don’t even get to enjoy my orgasm, ’cause the second I’m coming she’s pointing my dick away from stuff, “ew, oh, careful!” – she points it into my bellybutton, like, “make it go back in there, can it go back in?” – all right, so I’m lying on the floor in my daughter’s room, looking up at the mobile of fucking ducks in airplanes… – what does a fucking duck need with an airplane? – what does a baby give a shit? So I’m laying there on the floor, and my wife is just sitting next to me, just-in her bathrobe, just- – and weirdly, I’m not getting off on this. The fucking woman grimacing and tugging on my penis dryly while basically reading “people” magazine at the same time- – it’s not that-I’m not getting off on it for some- it’s taking me a while to come, and she starts getting impatient, she’s like, “come on! Come on!” like yelling “come on” into my dick, seriously. – At one point, I wanted her to lick her palm. I got this idea, maybe if she licks her palm, there will be some semblance of something going on. And so I had to-you gotta approach asking for those things carefully, you can’t just go, “hey, lick your palm!” like that, ’cause that’ll ruin whatever mood there already isn’t. So, I go, like, “ehh. “could you… Maybe lick your palm? Lick your palm? Lick your palm?” she’s like, “what?” “lick your palm… Lick-” “lick… Your palm… ” she goes, “what the fuck are you saying to me?” you know what she thought I said? She thought I said, “you look like your mom.” – so now I gotta get that out of my head. I’m trying to fucking, like, close my eyes, and fantasize that she gives a shit, nothing’s working. And finally she goes, “hey, I’m getting really tired.” so you know what I did? I finally just took her hand in my hand, and I just jerked myself off. With her hand! She’s like, “oh, thank you, that’s much easier that way.” That has to be the lowest form of sex that’s even fucking possible! To just be jerking myself off with my tired wife’s hand. – She might as well be dead at that point, seriously, she might as well be a fucking corpse. I came home and found her dead and-“fuck it, I’m getting one more before I call the police.” Just one more, who is it hurting? I’m not hurtin’ nobody. I’ll call 9-1-1. She’s not getting any better. Cops find DNA on her wrist. “Hmm… “she gave him a hand job and then died of shame, I think. I don’t know what happened.”
I don’t know. It’s really the kids that do you in. We have 2 kids, that’s fucking stupid, don’t do that, because you just-it also-it-mainly what it does to a marriage, it just changes the way that you think about your spouse, ’cause when you’re married, when you first get married, you have a relationship that’s so important to you, and you’re working on it together, but then you have a kid, and you look at your kid and you go, “holy shit, “this is my child, she has my DNA, she has my name. I would die for her.” And you look at your spouse and go, “who the fuck are you? You’re a stranger. Why do I take shit from you?” – But it’s really-it’s the kids that make it very hard. We have two – we have, uh, a baby, and I don’t really know the baby, to tell you the truth, because she hasn’t said anything, so I don’t really know her. Uh… – I like her, she’s fine, but I don’t know her. How do I know what she’s really like? Maybe she fuckin’ hates Jews, I don’t know, I don’t know nothing about her. – People ask about her all the time, they’re like, “hey, what’s your baby like?” she’s a fucking baby, what do you want- you ever seen a baby? That’s exactly what my baby’s like. “but what’s going on with your baby?” – Jesus. She got fired from target, and, uh… – she’s getting an abortion. It’s been a tough year, but otherwise, you know… – it’s not a very complicated relationship with a baby. You-it’s just somebody I have to make not die, that’s really what the whole thing is. And, there-I’m better at it sometimes than others.
Um, one time I took my daughter to the grocery store, and I had to put her in the stroller. She won’t go on the fucking cart. She’s the only baby in the world that won’t go in the shopping cart and sit there. You try to put her there and her legs curl up, and she goes, “waah!” fucking psycho, so I gotta put her in a stroller, and I got a cart, and I’m pushing them both through the fucking supermarket. And then I-ok, so I’m done shopping, and then I go out to the parking lot. And I open the car-first I start the car before I put them in there, ’cause I want it to get nice and cool ’cause I love her, so I have to make it nice and comfortable. Look, I do, I love my children, I love my wife, I wish I didn’t. How awesome would that be to wake up one morning, “fuck it, I don’t feel nothing for these assholes,” and just walk out the door. – but so far, no such luck. So, I start the a.c., then I put the groceries in, then I go to get my daughter out of the stroller, I got down there, and I realize that the exhaust pipe is right in her fucking face, it’s just fucking- brrr! I’m like, “fuck!” – I almost killed my kid in the dumbest fucking way ever! – if she died like that, I couldn’t tell her mom. I couldn’t fucking go home with that story. “I put her and I fucking, I don’t know, I- “didn’t realize- fuck you. I just-I don’t know.” I’d have to throw her into traffic, elp!” you know, that would be better- to actually tell her that I threw her into traffic.
The other kid we have is, uh, she’s a girl and she’s 4, and she’s also a fucking asshole. Um… – it’s true, man. I’m serious. I say that with no remorse. Fucking asshole. She’s a deutschebag. She is! Fucking jerk. The other day, I’m like, “put your shoes on, we’re trying to leave. “put your shoes on, please. Put your shoes on. Put your shoes on.” how many times can you say that to somebody before you just want to kick them right in the fucking face? Seriously, if you’re with a group of people that are trying to go somewhere, and you can’t go-you can’t go, because a member of your party just refuses to put their shoes on, that person is a fucking asshole. Ok? – you don’t do that to people, imagine being with a group- “hey, we can’t go.” “why?” “’cause fucking bill won’t put his shoes on, he just won’t put them on.” “fuck, bill, what’s your problem?” “I don’t want to put them on.” fuck you! – fucking kid sucks, seriously, the other day I’m- I walk in the kitchen, she’s talking to my wife. She says, uh, “mama, I saw a doggy today.” and I was like, “really? Where did you see a doggy?” and she’s like, “I’m telling mama, not you.” I’m like, hey, fuck you. I’m just asking to be nice anyway. What, you think I actually give a shit about the dog you saw? Like that was gonna be an awesome story that you saw a fucking dog. Who gives a shit? I got better stories than you, I have an interesting life. I’m on fucking television and I won an Emmy, you don’t ask what fuckin’ happened to me today, you little bitch. No, ha ha ha ha. I didn’t say that to her, obviously. But that’s the thing, nobody ever calls her on her bullshit. – That’s how she got to be an asshole in the first place. Nobody just goes, “ah, fuck you. You don’t know.” – I’d love to for one day, just fucking- be totally honest-“oh, you drew a dog? “let me see that. That’s not how it looks. “are you shittin’ me? That’s a scribble. “that’s nothing, that’s not even a anything. “Show me a dog that looks like that, I’ll give you $1,000. Seriously.” – Ah, fucking, uh, the other day I was just, like just dreaming about just fucking kicking her. Like, kicking her out a window, you know, just fucking-pff! – I would never fucking hurt her, but I want to-I do, you know? One time my daughter had a black eye because, uh, she walked into a door ’cause she’s stupid. And, um… She had a little black eye, and I took her to ice cream- we went to an ice cream place, and everybody in the ice cream place is like, giving me a dirty look. And I realize, they think I hit her! And she has a black eye now, that’s why I’m taking her to ice cream. That’s what they think. And I was so insulted, I wanted to say, hey, fuck all of you, ok? She’s this big. You ink if I hit her she’d have a black eye? She’d be fucking decimated! There’d be nothing there. Look at this shit. I would ruin her head with one punch-easily. She has no defensive skills. She fucking sucks. She’d be like, just smiling at me and-pff! There’d be just fucking- – just a dent there like a fucking bomb went off.
I don’t know, I love my daughter, but people really don’t get what it’s like with a kid full-time, you know- we-we parents make you love our kids ’cause we dress them up and take them out. Look at her-and everybody goes, “ohh… Nice.” but you don’t know what she’s like when she comes home, the dress comes off, she fucking rubs her ass in mud, she’s fucking gross. – she won’t fucking take a bath, like, you can- once you have a baby, you can’t force- fuck her, let her sleep in her clothes, I’m not dealing with it tonight. Her hair gets clumpy, she stinks. Sometimes it’s like, fucking, ugh! Just fucking rancid, stinky fucking kid. She fuckin’- in front of people- she like scratches her asshole in front of people, like, fucking deep asshole scratching- in the fucking panties. And then she smells her finger. That’s the kind of person I’m talking about. She’s disgusting! – the other day, I come home, and she’s just laying on the carpet with just-spread eagle naked, and she’s just stretching her vagina open, going, “aah!” just fucking- – fucking holding it open. I’m like, fuck! Shit, ok. Wow. That’s… Wow. – don’t react. I can’t-I can’t go, aah! I can’t do that, that’ll fuck her up. Just go, hello, hi, how are you? Hi, how’s school? Ok. “aah!” – I don’t know what the fuck to do about it, either. ‘Cause she does it all the time, and I can’t- I don’t want to stop her! ‘Cause you know what? She’s happy. That’s the happiest I’ve ever seen any person in my entire life. That’s a fucking human being at their happiest, just, “aah!” that’s what we all wish we could do! We should all be doing that, but- – we gotta fucking stop it, though, ’cause she’ll be fucking homeless if she doesn’t cut this shit. – so, yeah, it’s fuckin’…
My wife, um, took the kids out the other day when she- she just-the most amazing thing is when- when you get to be alone in your house. As a dad, you never get to be alone. Or as a m. But when the other parent takes the kids out, and you’re alone, that’s fucking awesome. And I think I’m getting older, ’cause the way I use that time has totally changed. I used to have, you know, jerk fest 2006, are you shittin’ me? Jerking off in my own house… Alone, in my own bed… Taking my time, go through my wife’s shit for pictures of her friends I want to fuck, everything was awesome! – but I’m older now, so I don’t do that. I don’t care about that. Now when everybody leaves, you know what I do? I just shit for hours. I take a big, long- beautifully private shit, with nobody fucking with me. That’s my dream- in life- is to take a shit without people fucking with me. ‘Cause when you have kids, first of all, the other parent starts banging away on the door, “get out of there! Help me!” – or my 4-year-old walks in while I’m shitting. She just fucking walks in the room and does a little dance. – I’m like, get out of here! My asshole is this big, I’m pushing a shit out right now, I don’t want to see a cute face at this moment. That’s traumatizing. – and I-and so when they leave, even if I don’t have to, I just shit for a fucking hour, my ass dries out, I don’t care. I stay there ’cause I love shitting. That’s how old I am, I love to shit. It’s my favorite thing. I don’t know why they call it number 2, I think it’s easily the best one. In my book, it’s number 1. Ha ha.
But, uh, no, it’s- it’s hard, having kids and being married, it’s difficult, and, you know, whatever, but- one thing that’s made me-it’s impossible for me to have any sympathy for single people. I just don’t give a shit about single people. I don’t dislike single people, but I don’t get- whenever single people complain about anything, I really want them to just shut the fuck up. Because first of all, if you’re single, you life has no consequence on the earth. Even if you’re helping people aggressively, which you’re fucking not, nobody gives a shit what happens to you. You can die, and it actually doesn’t matter. It doesn’t. Your mother will cry, whatever. But otherwise, nobody gives a shit. I can’t die, I got 2 kids and my wife doesn’t fucking work. So I don’t get to die. I can’t die. I love her, but she’s a painter, great. Paint a dollar and take some pressure off, please. But so- – but single people, when you-when you- they complain, like, we don’t complain. When you ask a parent, “hey, how’s the family?” we go, “great.” that’s all we ever say. It’s never fuckin’ great, but we say great, ’cause we’re not gonna tell you, “well, my wife assassinated my sexual identity,” and, “uh, my children are eating my dreams.” we don’t fucking bother you with that. We just say, “great.” but if you ask a single person, “how’s it goin’?” they’re like, “well, my apartment doesn’t “get enough southern light, and the carpeting is getting a little moldy… ” you know what you should do? Burn it down and kill yourself, ’cause nobody fucking cares. “my girlfriend doesn’t like the same music as me, and she acts bored at parties… ” fucking call her and say, “fuck you,” and hang up and leave her! You can end that shit with a phone call. I need a fucking gun and a plane ticket and bleach and shit, I need a whole bunch of- – thank you guys very much, you’ve been really great. Good night. Thank you.
