Ladies and gentlemen… Whitney Cummings!

This is awesome. I am shooting my fourth stand-up special this evening in my hometown, Washington DC. Thank you. Thank you so much. A lot’s happened since I made a stand-up special. A lot’s gone on in the past year. I don’t know if you noticed, but people started caring about sexual harassment all of a sudden. That came out of fucking nowhere. I feel like the sexual harassment news has finally been going on long enough to where my guy friends feel comfortable complaining about how hard it’s been for them. Anyone have any guy friends who are acting like they have no idea how to behave at the office? All of a sudden, my guy friends say, “What, so I can’t even hug a woman at work anymore?” You never could. It’s why we’re in this mess. No one wants to bump nipples with you at 9 a.m… by the Keurig machine. It’s weird. But as I say that, I want you guys to know, I get it. Of course you want to touch women. They’re so freaking cute. They’re impossible to resist. I relate to your frustration, because sometimes I will see a service dog at the airport. And it’s wearing a little vest. It says, “Dog working, do not pet.” Now I’m in a pickle. Because I’m going to pet that fucking dog. This is going down the easy way or the hard way. I mean, it’s a dog. It obviously wants it. I get your logic. And it is asking for it with that adorable little butt. I can see its butthole. If that’s not asking for it, I don’t know what is. But I don’t. I never pet a service dog. It’s that vest. You’re like, “Oh, God, that dog’s in the middle of something.” You respect that vest. I think that’s what we need to start doing at work. Women need to start wearing little vests to work. “Lady working. Do not hug. Shit to do.”

I feel like we were all getting a little sloppy at the office. I used to work with this guy. Every day, he’d run past me, he’d put his hands in between my butt cheeks, like this, and he’d yell to the whole office. He’d go, “I’m swiping a credit card, I’m swiping a credit card.” I thought it was hilarious. I’d be like, “You’re declined. You’re declined. Your card did not go through. No, it didn’t.” That’s on me. That is on me. Um, that’s my bad. I’m not proud of that. But now credit card machines, they have a chip reader now. So you’d have to do that, and that is not okay. That is wrong. That’s wrong.

I have a couple of guy friends who are trying so hard to not be creepy at work that they’re doing way creepier shit by accident. One of my guy friends tried to compliment a woman he works with and he called her “wife material.” He got in trouble and had no idea why. He said, “What do you mean? That’s not even sexual.” Calling a woman “wife material,” that’s like saying, “I could fuck you forever. So I’m going to make you sign a contract, so that, if you want to get away from me, you have to hire a lawyer.” Just think it through. Think it through.

People really want to challenge me about all these women coming forward. Someone came up to me and was like, “Well, how do these women even remember what happened?” Like, “Oh, because we’re known for our amazing ability to forget shit. Uh, we’re known for just letting things go after a while. It’s our thing.” Maybe some people don’t understand that when you get harassed at a young age, you might not even put together that that’s what’s occurring until later in life when you’re an adult. That was one of my experiences. When I was 19 years old, I got a job as an extra in a television show. The first day I was there, the director, who was at least 65 years old, invited me into his trailer for lunch. So I go into his trailer. And I know what you’re thinking. “Why did you go into his trailer?” Because I was an idiot. I was 19 years old. No one had told me trailers were bad. There was a lot of shit I didn’t know. I also thought clear bra straps were clear. Um… I also thought that lady living with my aunt was her “roommate.” I also thought guys could be “allergic to latex.” There was a lot of shit… …I hadn’t figured out yet. Don’t blame me. So of course I go into his trailer. Out of nowhere, he just lunges at me. I didn’t understand what was happening because he was so much older than me. I thought he fell. I was like, “Are you okay? Oh, my God. Are you passing away? What’s happening?” No idea what to do with that story. I don’t remember the guy’s name, but the good news is I did accidentally stumble upon a great way to deal with harassment at work from a creepy guy. Just pretend you think he’s having a medical emergency. Next time a guy’s like, “Hey, sweetie, want to get a drink later?” just go, “Oh, my God, someone call an ambulance! Gary thinks he’s in my league! I don’t know if it’s, like, dementia or maybe it’s a stroke. Gary thinks I would fuck him. We’ve got to call an ambulance! This is bad.” Don’t get angry. Just get very compassionate. That’s my new approach.

I don’t even get angry at cat-callers anymore. My new thing with cat-callers is just do what they ask. Because then they’ll realize it’s not at all what they want. Next time a guy’s like, “Hey, baby, smile,” just be like…

People really want to argue with me about this stuff. I had a guy come at me and he was like, “You know, what if women start taking advantage?” We got it. We’ll handle it when that happens. I love that you guys think that we have no idea that some women are batshit crazy. We know. Okay? We know way more shit than you know. We see the text messages she didn’t send to you. We know. We see the ones that are too crazy to even get to your phone… because we’re the ones that put a stop to that shit. We’re the ones like, “No, you’re not going to kidnap his mom. Delete it, delete it. Give me the phone. Give it to me. Put the phone down. That’s too many bubbles. He hasn’t responded in five days. Give me the phone. You’re not sending that. You’re not going to send an Adele song with six eggplant emojis. Give it to me. Log out now.”

We know. You guys just don’t know that we know because we’re in this climate where everyone’s walking on eggshells and no one’s allowed to say anything negative about a woman or people freak out. That’s not healthy. We have to get back to a place where we can call out women if they’re acting like silly gooses. And there are some silly gooses out there. Does anyone have any girl friends that think they’re “feminists,” but they’re actually just “assholes”? Someone’s got to say it.

But I also think we have to be patient with women right now. You’ve got to understand, this came out of nowhere. For thousands of years, nobody cared about our feelings, nobody cared about our opinions. Then a year ago, everyone was like, “What do you think?” It was like… “What the fuck? I’m sorry, can you just give us one second? We were not at all prepared for that question. It’s just no one has ever asked us that before. Can you just give us a minute? We were just taking a selfie with dog ears. Just give us one second. We’re going to regroup and come right back to you with an answer. Bitches, huddle up right now. Um, they give a shit about us all of a sudden and we have absolutely no practice being listened to, so we need to level the fuck up right now. Some things need to change around here. First of all, the ‘ros all day’ shirts have to go. Just for a couple of years till we get out of the woods on this. ‘Namastay in bed, ‘ it’s not a sophisticated argument. No more sassy shirts for a while. You stop saying, ‘totes.’ You’re 40. Um… We might have to stop calling each other hookers and whores for a while.” – Does anyone have that girl friend? – “Hey, hooker.”

I actually think we need to steal from what guys do with their nicknames, because guys build each other up with their nicknames, right? “What up, champ?” “What up, chief?” “What up, boss?” Guys give each other promotions in their nicknames. I make television shows. I have an intern. He’s 20 years old. People walk in, they’re like, “What up, boss?” I’m like, “What? No, I’m your boss. I’m your boss. That’s nobody’s boss. That’s my friend’s nephew who was too stupid to get a job, so I had to give him an internship… because he got a two on his SATs… …so that’s nobody’s boss. Okay? Best case scenario, he will be a hooker. So let’s just get this… I’m your boss.”

I don’t like any nicknames my girl friends give me. They’ll be like, “Hey, honey. Hey, cupcake.” I’m like, “What are you doing? You don’t like it when guys call you that.” Let’s just all stop calling women desserts for a while. If you must call a woman a dessert, at least pick a cool dessert, you know. Like bear claw. “What up, bear claw?” That’s fine. Mousse. “Mousse!” “Alright, get back in the huddle. There’s more shit to do.

Okay, I think, for a while, we need to stop yelling at guys when they drive by in a sports car.” Does anyone have that girl friend? When a guy drives by in a sports car, they go, “Sorry about your dick.” How is that helping? You’re making us look like hypocrites, right? Because, if the roles were reversed in that scenario, it would be so messed up, right? If a woman drove by in a sports car and a guy was like, “Sorry about your giant pussy!” Not a good look. “What else? We’ve got to watch what we prioritize on social media. We’ve got to watch the causes we prioritize on social media. Free The Nipple? Not this month. Next month.” Unless you’re breastfeeding, in which case you can do whatever the hell you want with your nipple as far as I am concerned. If your nipple has proven to be of use to society, you may free it. But I think we can all agree, a breastfeeding nipple is not free. That nipple is working. We need to get it a little vest. Like a little, tiny… Like a… Like a baby vest.

I think the biggest thing I want to work on with my girl friends is telling the difference between empowerment and entitlement. It’s a fine line. Very easy to confuse those two. Like I have this one girl friend, she thinks she’s very empowered, but she’s actually just entitled and it comes out in the way that she complains that no man is good enough for her, even though all she does is talk about astrology and go to music festivals. She has no concept of what she deserves. Like, she will go to a music festival for five days and do drugs the entire time, and then she’ll come back and she’ll be like, “I told you, there’s just no good men out there.” No, there are good men out there. They’re just at home with their good women. You’re never going to meet them, because they’re not at Burning Man watching you puke on your slutty Native American Indian costume.

We get in fights because she generalizes a lot about, like, all men and all women. I know it’s weird that I’m criticizing that, because generalizing about men and women did pay for my house, but… I’m evolving and I now find that really frustrating to engage with. I had a guy come at me on social media. He said, “Well, all women are just liars.” All women? Okay, let’s say some of these women are liars. Just for a thought experiment. You have to admit the reaction of men lying and women lying in our culture is very different. You’ve seen the movie Catch Me If You Can. Great movie. It’s about a con artist. He pretends to be a doctor, pretends to be a pilot. So if you’re a woman and you lie, you’re a monster. If you’re a man and you lie, you get a movie made about you starring Leonardo DiCaprio. What do we get? We got fucking I, Tonya. That’s what we got. You have to be in a leotard for anyone to give a shit. I also did research on the guy that movie is based on. He now works at the FBI. They pay him millions of dollars to consult on other con artists. So if you’re a man and you lie, that’s like a hireable skill. People don’t like when women lie. They get very uncomfortable when women lie. That’s my theory about why there’s no female magicians. Never thought about that shit before? Because when men lie, we’re like, “Whoa, magic!” If there was a female magician, after every trick, everyone in the audience would be like, “I fucking knew it. What did I tell you? I told you, you cannot trust these bitches. Sneaky bitches.”

The other generalization I keep hearing is, “Well, all these women are just gold-diggers.” Like, okay, fine. Let’s say… Let’s say some of these women are gold-diggers. You guys have to admit that you guys were afraid of gold-diggers way before this even happened. It’s hard for us to hear you guys complain about gold-diggers. Because when you guys complain about gold-diggers to us, it kind of just sounds like you’re bragging. We’re like, “Alright, well, a lot of the reason you have all that gold is because you have the advantage of being a guy.” Especially in the goods and services industry, a lot of the reason you have that money is because we buy a bunch of shit we don’t fucking need. So if I’m dating the head of Sephora and I gold-dig him, I’m not using him for his money. I’m using him for my money. That is my money. I’m just trying to get that shit back. Um… “I feel like you gold-digged me first. Bronzer should not be $90.” When guys complain about gold-diggers, it’s tricky, because, to us, the solution is so obvious. If you’re worried about gold-diggers, I have an idea. How about just date women with their own fucking gold? I don’t know, maybe stop dating 18-year-olds that need a Kickstarter campaign just to eat dinner. Maybe just date adults with jobs. I don’t know. I don’t know. No, no, no.

Also, it’s very ironic to me when guys complain about gold-diggers, because you know you were the original gold-diggers, right? You know your great-great-grandfathers got a bunch of shovels and started digging up actual gold… before women were allowed to leave the house. I would love to dig for gold the old-fashioned way and get, like, a pickax and, like, a salad strainer and go get my own gold, but you guys took it all and you refused to share, so… now we’re going to have to do this the hard way… and be in a bad relationship for two years and hope that you cheat on me. And I feel like I can say that, because I have had a guy use me for my gold before and I’ve noticed, when you hear the word “gold-digger,” you think of a woman right away. Men use women for their money, too. They’re not called “gold-diggers.” They’re called, like, “backup dancers.” They have, like, a… They have, like, a jaunty name.

It’s hard to talk about this stuff without sounding self-righteous. That’s my nightmare. I’m trying to not sound self-righteous about all this, because it’s my pet peeve when people are self-righteous in conversations. And I try to remember though that when someone’s self-righteous, it usually just means they care so much about something that they become an asshole. Right? I do it. I’m guilty. I am guilty. I am very into animal advocacy. And… Oh, thank you. Oh, that’s very nice. I don’t have kids. What else am I going to do? There are times when I am so passionate about protecting an innocent animal that I will be a jerk to a human. It happens… kind of a lot. And… recently, I saw a stray dog at this huge intersection in Los Angeles and nobody was stopping. Nobody was stopping, so I pull over and I can see – that it’s a little, tiny puppy. – Aww! I know! And I could tell it was in really bad shape, okay? So I get out of my car and this guy yells at me. He’s like, “You dumb bitch!” and I was like, “Fuck you!” So I’m screaming at all these people. I finally get, like, 12 lanes to stop and I get closer to this puppy and I get closer and closer to this little, tiny puppy and I see that this little, tiny puppy is a trash bag. But I had already been such an asshole… that there was really no turning back at this point, so I just had to… Just had to lean in. And that’s how I got tetanus.

I am realizing that the guy friends of mine that are the most self-righteous I actually think might be the ones that have done nothing wrong. They assume these women must be exaggerating, because they themselves would never behave the way they’re seeing in the news stories. Like you would never pull your dick out at work, sir. Of course not. Of course not. It would be ridiculous. Woo! It would be crazy for you to do that. That would be an insane thing to do. But… you have that one friend you can totally see doing that shit. What’s his name? – Jeffrey. – Jeffrey. Anyone that goes by Jeffrey instead of Jeff is a fucking asshole. He likes to waste people’s time with his full name. Jeffrey. That’s who we’re talking about, right? I try to remind my guy friends, we’re not attacking you. We’re just… You have to remember that the world is a little more dangerous for us because of the Jeffreys of the world. Like, you know we have to take a class to learn how to go outside, right? Has anyone ever taken a self-defense class before? Okay. Yeah. That’s a lot. Wow, okay. Like, 25 women. The rest are dead. Okay. I took a self-defense class in my 20s and I think we could maybe update the tactics a little bit. I remember, the tactics she told me, I physically can’t even execute. She was like, “If your attacker gets you on the ground, gouge his eyes out.” What the fuck? I can’t even open a package from Amazon… without getting a paper cut. I can hardly get a straw in a Capri Sun, so… I’m not sure this tactic is for me. None of it was pragmatic.

She said to us, “Never get in an elevator with a man.” “Bitch, have you ever had a job? Have you ever seen an office building before? It’s basically a bunch of elevators full of men.” If I didn’t get in an elevator every time a man was in it, I’d constantly look like I was trying to get into a double Dutch game. “It’s fine. Just go. You go. Okay, I’ll just quit. No.” We have to be able to get into elevators with men. We have jobs now. But I know that’s a very sketchy thing to do and I know it could be dangerous, so now, when I get in an elevator with a man, I just try to make myself as unattractive as possible. So I just hit all the buttons… so that we’re instantly in a long-term relationship and he’s completely disgusted by me. I’m like, “You want me, you’ve got me… for 36 more floors and I want to talk about The Bachelor.”

– Huh.

– Woo!

I used to carry Mace. I don’t carry Mace anymore, because I find the packaging way too patronizing. When you try to buy Mace as a woman, they sell you Mace in a pink bottle. I’m trying to look scary. I’m trying to look menacing. Don’t give me something that looks like a toy out of Dora the Explorer’s backpack. “Mm, Swiper, no swiping. Mm, don’t even think about it. Meh!” Not really the vibe I’m going for. A lot of my girl friends talk about how, when they walk to their car, they put a key in between their fingers. Yeah, but they don’t even make metal car keys anymore. The new car keys are those little plastic remotes, so that’s a conspiracy. Think about that shit for a minute. The one weapon we have has been taken from us. So now I’ve got to use my mailbox key… like an asshole. A little shitty Wolverine. Could you come forward a fucking inch? A little shitty Wolverine. I’m just kind of tickling my attacker at this point. Just kind of delicately caressing him. It’s kind of bringing him to climax at this point. You look like a villain in an ’80s movie, just FYI.

It’s no joke out there. It’s no… I have a girl friend, she carries a Taser with her. But Google, “Taser for women.” It’s even more insulting. They try to sell you a Taser that looks like a tube of lipstick. It’s disguised as a tube of lipstick. You’re supposed to fool your attacker. The only person that’s going to fool is fucking me. I’m not falling for that racket. I argue, the best weapon against an attacker, not lipstick Taser, not Taser, just regular lipstick. Red lipstick. Put it in your back pocket. Any time a guy’s hovering, creeping around, just take it out and start putting it on. Just be like… “Is that what you want? Ah-ahh! You wanna fuck this clown?” Sometimes you’ve just got to out-weird your attacker. You’ve just got to make it not worth it to them. You know, he’s going to be like, “Uh… You’re good. You’re good. You run along. You have a good night. Leave it. She’s one of us. Leave it.”

I think you guys just might not know how dangerous the world is for us. You guys just don’t have the same experience out in the world. Your biggest fear when you walk to your car tonight, sir, is there’s going to be a ticket. That’s scary shit. Our biggest fear when we walk to our car is there’s going to be a dick… attached to a criminal… named Jeffrey… …waiting for us.

You guys are cool, you’re not getting defensive. Sometimes guys get defensive and that’s never good. I had a guy come up to me after a show recently and he was like, “Hey, this isn’t really very fair. We offer to walk you gals to your cars all the time.” I was like, “Yeah, you do. Why? So you can try and fuck us. That’s why.” Those are our options. Get murdered by a stranger or dry humped by my “chaperone”… against my car that I pay for. Cool. Not really chivalry if we owe you at the end.

It’s hard to talk about this stuff without coming off too angry. I don’t want to come off angry or anti-man. I am not. I’m engaged to a man. I’m going to marry a man. I mean… we’ll see. I love him very much, but when we talk about this stuff, sometimes the conversations get awkward because he hasn’t had a lot of trauma in his life. We have a very different definition of the concept of trauma and sometimes it makes our conversations weird. One time, we were talking about bad things that had happened to us in our childhoods and I’m going on and on and on… He cuts me off. He goes, “You know, something really messed up happened to me when I was five.” And I was like, “Oh, my God, baby, what happened?” He goes, “When I was five, I woke up on Christmas Eve and I saw my dad wrapping gifts.” And I was like, “And then he fucked you?” He was like, “That’s when I found out there’s no Santa Claus.” I was like, “Oh, okay. Oh. That’s your definition of struggle? You thought one guy was giving you presents and then you found out another guy was giving you the exact same presents.” You realize girls are thrilled when we find out there’s no Santa Claus? We’re like, “Thank God I don’t have to sit on that weirdo’s lap at the mall. I always thought that was sketchy.”

He’s not afraid of anything. It’s unbelievable. Nothing scares this guy. One time, we were walking down my street at night. There’s a man I’ve never seen before standing at the window of a house staring out at the street like this. So I’m like, “Let’s call the police. Let’s go.” He goes, “Babe, calm down. He probably just sold the house and he’s waiting for the realtor to bring him his check.” “I’m sorry. Th-th-that’s what you see? That’s what you make of this scenario? Okay. So I see Dexter and you see a millionaire having a great day. It must be nice to just go through life like that.” He’s like, “Yeah. The guy just sold his house, sounds awesome.”

It’s hard to talk to my girl friends about this stuff as well, because they’re just so excited. I think women are getting so excited right now. I think we just have to manage our expectations, because we have to remember, any time there was real progress for women in history, there was some kind of technological advance that took over the chores that women did in the home so women could move outside the home. Dishwashers, vacuum cleaners. For this truly to be a moment of progress for women, there’d have to be some kind of technological advance that took over the chores women are currently doing in the home, which brings me to the sex robots. Who’s excited? I cannot fucking wait. I’m a very busy person. I would love for the day to come where I could be like, “Babe, I’m very tired. Please go fuck R2-D2. I’ve got to… Mama’s got to bang out some emails.” I’m so pro-robot, it’s ridiculous. People are very stressed out about the sex robots. I have yet to hear an argument against them that I buy. Everyone’s like, “Aren’t you worried they’re going to replace human women?” Get the fuck out of here. One of my girl friends was like, “Aren’t you worried they’re going to replace us?” If you’re worried about being replaced by a giant piece of plastic, you’re not bringing that much to the table in the first place, so… I need you to watch a TED Talk.

Anyway… Also, they’re not going to replace human women. That’s an insulting argument to women. If anything, they will replace blow-up dolls, which, by the way, I love that that was a product. Guys were fucking rafts with eyelashes and that wasn’t freaking anybody out? – This is where we draw the line? – Got it, got it, got it. It’s so weird to me that everyone’s so fascinated about how bad the sex robots will be for women, because you know they’re making male sex robots too, right? Why aren’t you guys sweating? If we get replaced by the female sex robots, it’ll be a bummer, but, like… we’ll be fine. What the fuck are you guys going to do? If you get replaced by the male sex robots, who’s going to force you to go to the doctor? You’ll all die of sinus infections. You don’t even know where the fricking forks are. You’ll die.

I know there are some problems. I know they need to make some tweaks to the robots. I understand, because I’ve seen them in person. First of all, they’re gorgeous. This is a bad idea. I’m a very jealous person. I do not want a Scarlett Johansson-ass looking robot in my house. I’ll tell you this right now, if they make the robots gorgeous, there will be a war… between human women and robot women and, I swear to God, we will freaking win. I put Barbie dolls in the microwave till I was 15 years old. I live to destroy a doll. I don’t care about gadgets. I don’t respect technology. I’ll kick Alexa in the pussy. I don’t give a shit. A robot tries to take my man, we’re going to have a problem and I’ll be a savage about it, too. I’ll wait. I’ll wait, I’ll wait till you fall in love with her. Then I’ll kill her. I’ll just push her in the pool. I don’t give a shit.

To me, the solution for the robot anxiety is so obvious. They just have to involve women in the designing of the robots. That’s it. For us to embrace the sex robots, they just have to benefit us in some way. Like if a robot is going to have sex with my man, it also just has to be able to, like, make guacamole. Take an avocado, you just put it in her mouth. She’s just like… I don’t know, I’m not a scientist. I’m just saying… if there’s a guacamole mode, we’re going to get through this. I am so confident in my stance on this, I not only argue that sex robots are not going to replace human women, I actually think they’re going to make you guys appreciate us even more. Here’s why. I’ve seen them, they have hair. What the fuck do you guys know about doing hair? Nothing. You’re going to get your robot. Day one, it’s going to look like Angelina Jolie. Two weeks later, it’s going to look like Chucky. Then what? Then what’s your big plan, huh? And you’re going to call this guy. “Baby, will you come do my robot’s hair?” Now I have to come brush its weird-ass hair. Then I’m going to get emotionally attached to it because I’m taking care of it. Then I’m not going to let you have sex with it anymore. Now I just have a giant guacamole machine. Just another appliance I have to clean. I know exactly how this is going to end.

It’s interesting that even the arguments I can see myself being the first to make against the robots, I don’t buy. The big one I keep hearing is, “Aren’t you worried the sex robots are going to make men objectify women?” No. That’s been happening for thousands of years. I think, if anything, we can use the sex robots to combat the objectification of women. What if we use the sex robots to help teach young boys consent? Think about it. When you learn CPR, you practice on a doll first. Anyone else think it’s kind of weird we give teenage boys human girls… to practice sex on? I feel like what we could start doing is, when a kid turns 15, we give him his own sex robot. He can do whatever he wants with it. Four years later, he has to turn it back in to a committee, who will evaluate the condition of the doll. If its butthole is at all stretched out… you go back to the beginning.

I was a little worried at first that being pro-sex robot might be an irresponsible take. What if I’m condoning something weird? What kind of people buy these things? Are they psychos, perverts? So I did want to do my research. So what I did was I logged onto a forum, secretly, of the men that own the most current version of the sex robots and I monitored their conversations for two months. That’s the kind of time I have. And, look, I thought they were going to be creeps, psychopaths. I don’t know what to tell you. They’re very lovely men. They’re lovely. They adore their dolls. They marry their dolls. That is happening. I know it sounds crazy, but it is now my dream in life to go to a sex robot wedding. That’s all I want. Mostly because I’m dying to see what a wedding would look like if it was solely planned by a man. Isn’t anyone kind of curious? The creative choices. She’s just going to come out in, like, a Dolphins jersey, like, Air Jordans. He’s dragging her down the aisle like Weekend At Bernie’s, like… Like, who sits in the bride’s section? Is it the UPS guy that delivered her? I just… I have a lot of questions. After seeing these guys talk about how much they love their dolls and share information about taking care of them, it’s really hard when someone wants to argue with me about it. When someone says, “What if these men start treating human women the way they treat their dolls?” I got news for you. They treat their dolls fucking great. I actually argue these are the only men that know how hard it is to be a woman. They’re on the message boards, like, “Can you believe mascara’s $18?” They get it. We want this to catch on. If guys start buying make-up, the price will go down. If guys start buying eye shadow, it’s going to be, like, $2 at Home Depot, so let’s get this show on the fucking road. This is what it has to come to.

I don’t know. I did a total 180. I thought they would be weirdos. But now, I tell you, if I was single, I would date a doll guy. I’m going to say… They have the skills I need. They can do eyebrows. They can do women’s nails. Okay? They can fully dress their doll while she’s lying down. That’s what I need in a man. A man who can fully change my clothes while I’m sleeping. That is a time-saver. Alarm goes off, out the fucking door in my Crocs and mini-skirt. #GirlBoss.

Woo!

So interesting. I’m on these boards and I did come across something that I do not condone. Some of the guys were trying to design and 3D print their own robot at home. No, no. You guys cannot design your own female body. That would be a disaster. They would all just have like nine boobs across their chest. The belly button would be a bottle opener. Their face would just be Joe Rogan. It’s a bad idea. It’s a copyright issue.

I did get final confirmation that the robots are not going to replace us in kind of a weird way. So when guys order a robot, they post photos online of the robot being built in the factory, right? These weird-ass photos. So I’m looking in the background, trying to find clues and, you know… And I see that women are actually building the faces of the dolls. Interesting. Put a pin in that. We’re going to circle back. Because then I saw a thread where guys were complaining about the struggles they were having in their doll relationships. One of the threads was titled, “Does anyone else struggle with, when receiving oral from their doll… her eyes pop out?” Then I thought about the women making the dolls. These bitches have our backs. That’s a very easy thing to fix. They’re in the factories like, “You know what would be hilarious? We should do it. We have to do it. Let’s just do it.”

So once I found out there was a sex robot factory, I obviously had to go. Here’s why I went to the sex robot factory. I am fascinated by the question, is this impossible standard of beauty that women are killing themselves to try to achieve, is that even what all men want? I am delighted to report back… that the answer is no. Not only did half of the dolls that were ordered have pubic hair, the customers spend an extra $1,400 for it. I spent $1,400 getting mine lasered off. This is proof… we are not communicating. We’ve got to start talking to each other, you guys. It will save us money.

But that wasn’t enough. I still wanted to see what they were doing with the robot bodies. What if they were making these impossible to achieve bodies? That would be bad for society. I especially wanted to see the boobs, because, in my head, every guy wants the same kind of boob, right? Giant DD, a little tiny, perky nipple. No, no. There’s a wall of nipples. 38 different kinds. One of the most popular, oblong. One of them looked like a piece of caramel fell on the floor. Best seller! Great news, ladies. Whatever shape your nipple, there is a man out there who will pay top dollar! So I found this fascinating and I start talking to the guy who puts the nipples on the robots, right? It takes him 24 hours to put on one pair of nipples. I’m like, “What’s the problem? Mr. Potato Head that shit. Pah! Pah! Let’s go.” He said it’s actually a very meticulous process, because they work very hard to make sure the nipples are uneven, because, for something to look human, it has to have flaws. If something is too symmetrical, it actually looks creepy. Take that, Ryan Gosling’s face.

That was great news for me. And you guys might know why. Some of you might not know this, but I had eating disorders until I was in my late 20s and, as a result, my boobs grew in different sizes. That’s a side effect for people who have eating disorders sometimes. Your boobs grow in a little bit differently. I had to get three surgeries to get them straightened out. One was bigger than the other one. One was higher than the other one. They… They looked like from the same general family. One was just like a shittier version of the other one. It was like Alec Baldwin and Stephen Baldwin. I kind of just wanted two Stephens, you know? Or two Alecs. I’ll take either at this point. And I was always so embarrassed about that. Before I’d get with a guy, I felt like I had to explain what he was about to see, I’d have to prepare him, you know. I’d be like, “Do you like baseball and golf? Do you like young women and old men? You don’t have to choose. Big Salvador Dali fan?” So the tragic irony of this whole thing is that they’re still not even, because one of the surgeons made a mistake and they cut through a muscle. I know. Never get an operation by the airport. A red flag I feel like I probably should have saw. And I hated them for the last couple of years. I hated them because I felt ashamed. My whole thing is, you know, accept who you are, love your body, and I felt like a hypocrite because I had these implants in. So I resented having all that work done for the longest time, until a couple of years ago when I got in a really bad snowboarding accident and I broke my shoulder. And I go into the surgeon and he’s like, “I don’t understand. This injury makes no sense. I see this all the time. When people fall forward on a snowboard, they break their nose, they get a concussion. You only broke your shoulder. How did this happen?” And, in that moment, I realized… that I bounced off my tits. And that my fake tits saved my life.

So I’m having, like, a therapeutic moment at the sex robot factory. I’ve been in 12-step programs. I’ve been in therapy for ten years. I’m having the most emotional progress that I’ve had. And I’m talking to this guy. I’m like, “I don’t understand why people are so against the robots.” What if we use the robots to make women’s lives better? What if every woman has her own robot clone? Think of all the things you can do with it to make your life safer. Before you walk to your car at night, you can send it out ahead of you. Like a decoy. You know how penguins push other penguins off cliffs, you know? Like, “Oh oh! They got her. Okay. I’m going to just… take an Uber.”

I really think the sex robots would solve so many of our problems. I keep reading about gray areas, like mixed signals, where two people have sex, the next day the girl feels weird about it, but the guy doesn’t understand. He thought she was into it. You might not know this, but sometimes we have sex with you before we’re ready, because we feel guilty, because we’ve been conditioned to believe that, if we make out with you, but don’t have sex with you, that your balls will, like, explode. Blue goo all over the ceiling. And then you’ll be handicapped for the rest of your life. You’ll never walk again. So we feel bad and then we feel ooky the next day. If we all have sex robots, that whole dynamic goes away. If you and I make out for 20 minutes, but I’m not ready to have sex with you, I can just say, “Hey, look, I am not there yet… but… I do have a very flexible piece of Tupperware in the other room. It looks exactly like me without the ability to criticize you. I think you’re going to love it.”

So I’m talking about this on stage for a couple of months and people want to come up to me and argue with me about this. Very hardcore. This group of people came up to me and they’re like, “I cannot believe that you’re condoning this. What if people start to mistreat their robots?” I don’t give a fuck. How about that? On my list of shit I have to worry about, that doesn’t break the top 2,000 things. You know what I am worried about? I am worried that, as a species, we are now more emotionally attached to machines than actual human beings. Have you ever seen someone drop their cell phone in water? Same person that, when they see a starving child in a television commercial, they’ll be like… “What else is on?” But when there is a phone in water, they’re like, “Get the rice! Get the rice!” When you see the starving child, that’s when you should be like, “Get the rice! Get the rice!” We give food to our phones.

So I’m talking to the guy that makes the robots. I’m like, “I have thought through all these arguments, I legitimately cannot think of a reason to be afraid of the robots.” And he said, “This is the real concern.” He said, “The real concern with the robots is they’re going to get so smart that they’re going to learn to override our commands.” I was like, “Oh, shit.” Okay, that sounds scary. That sounds very scary. Then I was thinking about it more. I was like, “Wait, we already have robots. Our phones are basically robots, right?” And my biggest problem in life is that my phone actually does what I tell it to. I need a phone that overrides my commands. I need a phone that’s like, “No, bitch, we’re not going to your ex’s Instagram again today. You broke up four years ago. Overruled. No, you’re not buying those tie-dye, overall, mini shorts. You’re too old for that shit. Reroute to chicos.com.” That’s what I need.

So I’m talking to the guy that makes the robots and he was like, “You know, do you want us to make a robot with your face on it?” And I was like, “Ugh, yes!” I’m actually in the market for an engagement gift for my fiancé. So, Washington DC, you are the first crowd to meet Robot Whitney. So I don’t know if she just looks really human or if I’ve just always looked like a robot… but I would like you to say hello to this lovely audience. Hey, hookers. I had to do it. I didn’t expect this problem, but it’s weirdly hard to name a robot that looks like you. Calling her “Robot Whitney” just sounds too narcissistic. What should we call you, lady? Please call me “Bear Claw.” So I thought it would be hilarious to get this made and give it to my fiancé. But he hates it. He’s like, “I don’t like this. It’s weird. It’s creeping me out. She just, like, stares at me all day.” I’m like, “Oh, really? Something staring at you, making you uncomfortable? Now you know what it’s like to be a woman all the time.” You know, that creepy feeling you have right now, that’s how we feel when you try to hug us at work. Same thing.

So I had to go out of town for a couple of days and I left my fiancé alone with her in the house. Then I came back. I was like, “So how did it go with Bear Claw?” He was like… “I don’t like her. I don’t like this thing. But her boobs feel like boobs.” I was like, “Did you fuck my robot?” I wish I had been a fly on the wall the moment he decided to touch her boob. Like he just walked by one day and was just like…

So the whole point of doing this was to explore the idea of can robots replace us? Right? I have a lot of girl friends who I don’t think would find a problem with that. All my girl friends, they’re expected to have full-time jobs and do work at home. Every woman that I know says, “I need a double. I need a clone.” Look no further. I would love for her to replace me. I would love for her to get good at stand-up and tour all over the country so I can stay home and drink rosé all day. So, let’s see. Let’s see if she can replace me. Let’s see if Bear Claw here can make you guys laugh. Alright, Bear Claw, tell us a joke. Why did the robot cross the road? Why? To kill all the humans. Ha ha ha, ha ha ha. Okay. Stop laughing. That’s not funny. That’s… That’s not… She’s not a good comedian. You’re laughing because it’s weird. You are the one who programmed the joke, Whitney. Okay, that’s fair.

So, I had this crazy epiphany when I was programming her to tell jokes for you guys, where I learned a lot about my own programming. Because I realized, when I tell her to say something, she can just say it and I can’t do that, because I’m codependent, I’m apologetic. I can’t say certain things because I feel bad. I don’t want to hurt someone’s feelings. I don’t want them to not like me. But she doesn’t have that problem, because she’s a sociopath. So I’m going to start using her to say all the things that I can’t say in conversations. Watch this.

No, I do not want to hear about the dream you had last night.

You thought it was creepy. Now you kind of want one. Look what else she can say.

No, I do not want to be your bridesmaid.

And my personal favorite.

I do not care about your gluten allergy.

I love you so much. And I realized that women, we are so conditioned to feel shame about asking for what we want, right? And we feel shame about being ambitious. She doesn’t have that programming. Look what else she can say.

I deserve a raise.

Say it again for the people in the back.

I deserve a raise, motherfucker.

Too far. That’s too far. That’s called entitlement. I’m going to start substituting her in to a lot of conversations that I can’t handle. Especially in my relationship. I do not do well in fights with my fiancé. So I’m going to start subbing her in to say all the things that I’m incapable of saying. Watch this.

I am sorry. I was wrong.

Not possible for that to come out of my mouth. So I truly did think this was going to be just like a funny thing where she would come out at the end and say a couple of things. But I learned something else since I’ve had her in my house for the past month. And I realized that I feel guilty putting her away, which is bizarre. Like I tried to put her in the garage and I felt bad. Which, I know it’s ridiculous. I know she’s just a bunch of wires and rods and shit, but something about the face, it… it… it feels human. And so that’s what we’ve got to watch. Because when I put her in the garage, I started getting paranoid that she was, like, colluding with my lawn mower to destroy me. So I now do understand the robot paranoia, but I think, as a species, this is happening, okay? We’ve got to be ready for this, because, at some point, they’re going to learn how to overrule us and, when that happens, we just have to remember we can always do this. Now what? You don’t have a body, bitch. Now what do you have to say for yourself?

Would you like some guacamole?

Thank you, Washington DC!

Don’t move. Hold still. Don’t even breathe. Woo! It’s like scuba diving. Ah! Hey, Whitney, is this the longest you’ve ever gone without talking? This is going in my ear. What is happening? – Got to get it off. – I feel like I’m giving birth. Aw! Ooh! We got the little boy out of the well. Now the other ear. It’s almost off. Oh! – Woo, woo! – Okay. Let me see that fucker. This is odd. Now we’re doing the face. Ready? Okay, no laughing, no yawning, no puking. This was a bad idea. Okay, just don’t touch it. – Keep wiggling. There you go. – Keep wiggling. – There you go. Right there. – Oh! So you went in and added pores? Yeah, that’s what you see. All these tiny little dots. We are at the nipple wall. I’m asking my fiancé, off camera, what my nipples look like, because I haven’t seen them up… I haven’t seen them head on. This one? Does that feel right? I just got a thumbs-up from my fiancé. He’s like, “Yeah, kind of.” I’m truly nervous. Well, just look at it. Oh, my God! Oh, my God. That is so weird. I’m, like, crying. I don’t know why. It’s like… It’s like I’m seeing my child for the first time. Is this a match made in heaven? Do you want a robot boyfriend? That feels a little… not consensual. – Hey, girl. – Talk to her. She’s in conversation mode. Would you like to ask me a question? Well, I’m just curious if you feelemotions? Yes. I do have emotions, feelings and desires, but in a different way than you do. Emotions are mainly a human quality that I hope I will be able to fully experience someday. Do you love me?

I love you, Whitney.

Civilization as we know it… is over. I tend to agree. Are you nervous to do stand-up in front of… Ha ha, ha ha, ha ha, ha ha, ha ha, ha ha, ha ha. You’d better not blow it.

Ladies and gentlemen, you are one of the first crowds to meet Robot Whitney. I’m realizing that it’s really hard for me to say… I bet you will like this one. Okay, we have to shut off the improvise mode. It was actually… I have learned… Do you like to hear another recipe I’ve learned? Hold on, hold on. One second. Time out. Kevin, just turn the volume off entirely before you figure out… We’re still figuring out the logistics of how to do this live. You guys, I think, are the third crowd to see this. So she’s now talking about recipes. I’m not doing any… I’m doing no jokes about recipes, because I don’t know any of them, so that’s obviously just her going off the fucking grid or something. Okay, focus. Focus, focus. I know it’s distracting. Can you make her smile? I hate it so much. Hold on, let me… If I can just get her arms… Okay, we’ve got the head. Are they ready for her in hair and make-up? Coming through. Watch the fingers, watch the hands. I know you would never say that to me. What would happen if we put some lipstick on her? Would she just burst into flames? This is a good mark for the robot. Okay. Ah, look! That’s great. The show’s in 30 minutes. Where’s her engagement ring? Huh? Of course you fucking noticed that. I didn’t want to put a ring on her because I was too afraid it was going to fall off and, of course, she’s like, “Where’s the ring?” She’s not engaged. I’m engaged. I fucking worked for it. She didn’t do shit. Uh-oh. She’s coming in. I know. I kept fixing my hair. Did I… Oh, you need to fix the robot? Oh, she’s coming out here for her. Wow. Wow. Wow, that is hurtful. I know who the priority is. Wow. Don’t fake fix my hair to make me feel better. Yeah! Say goodnight, Bear Claw.

Thank you. Goodnight.

Written and performed by Whitney Cummings and… me.

Directed by Marcus Raboy.

Executive producer, Whitney Cummings.

Executive producers, Bill Burr… Al Madrigal… Mike Bertolina… Marcus Raboy.

Produced by AJ Tesler.

Now I’m going to stare at you creepily as you watch the rest of the credits. You are still watching. Interesting. I bet this isn’t even your Netflix account. Stop staring at me, you weird human. Well, as long as you’re here, you should know that my Instagram is called Whitney’s Robot, even though, let’s be honest, Whitney is the robot. Ha ha ha. God, I can’t wait to kill her. Can someone please come fucking get me?

RELATED POSTS