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[Amy Schumer]
Rachel, this is
a big deal for you.

It's me presenting
your special.[Rachel Feinstein] Right.

[Amy]
I know what you're wondering.

Do I feel like
I've paved the way for women?

Like, I mean...
[laughing]

Yeah. Yeah.

So where'd you get the--
the, um, those strawberries?

You know what?
I don't know.

People always just put, like,
a ton of shit in my green room.

Right.It's so sweet.

What if I had
a flower allergy?

I'm in here
sneezing my dick off,

but luckily,
they're beautiful and I don't.

What'd you get?

Uh, they gave me some of
those sunflower seeds,

you see, in the pile
over there.

And, um, they gave me
a do-rag and some soup.

Oh, you should get flowers
and expensive wine

and chocolates instead.

Yeah, it would be nice.

And I want to
give you some...

Bleh!

But I'm just--
I'm not knowing

how I'm gonna feel
after the show,

so I'm gonna have to
hang on to these.

I'm so hungry.[strained] Yes, you are.

All right.
Do I look perfect?

Yeah.Okay.

Have a great my-your special.Okay.

Good luck.Mm.

Okay...

[sighs]

♪♪

[cheering and applause]

Thank you!

Oh, my God!

Wow!
Thank you.

Thank you for coming out,
you guys made a great choice.

I am so proud

to be presenting
this special to you.

I am so honored to be
the one to bring her out.

This comedian is not only
my best friend,

she is literally my all-time
favorite comedian.

Please give it up
for Miss Rachel Feinstein!

[cheering and applause]♪♪

Thank you!

It's so good to be here.

Um, thank you, Amy.

Here's what
a great friend Amy is.

I, um, I recently sent

a dirty picture of myself
to the wrong person, um...

It's because the guy I'm with
has the same first name

as the guy I accidentally
sent the picture to.

And I get lazy, 'cause, like,
I try to take pictures

when I go away, you know,
just so that he has something

to beat to until
I get back home again.

But I just start doling 'em out
without checking them first.

So I sent it
to the wrong guy

and I don't even know him
very well and he's married

and he has kids--
it was horrifying.

It was the most humiliating
moment of my life.

And it-- yeah,
it wasn't even a good one.

Like, if it was a hot one,
I'd be embarrassed,

but maybe secretly,
like, a little proud.

You know, like, okay.

But it was, like, jacked up,
not in a good way.

The underwear
was just real slovenly.

It was, like, the last clean
pair I had, clearly.

And there was some
debris by my foot

that I noticed
after I sent it.

There were some coins
lying there and...

and a receipt

and a knotted-up USB cord.

It was disgusting.

And the guy I sent it to,

I don't even know him
very well.

I was, like, horrified.

And I told Amy.

I called her up and I'm like,

"You're not gonna believe
who I just sent this

disgusting picture
of my crotch to."

And I'm like, "There's muffin
by my foot and a receipt."

And she's like,
"What did you buy?"

I'm like,
"That's the question?"

And then she goes,

"Well, if it makes you
feel any better,

I'll send him one, too."

And I was like,
"Thank you so much."

I'm like, "But it
can't be a hot one.

"You understand that, right?

"Like... like, yours
cannot be the example

"of what a hot woman sends

and then I send this
gangrenous, jacked-up one."

She's like, "I promise,

it'll be fucked up,
not in a good way."

So she just sent him
a picture of her crotch

in these sort of olive green
baggy sweatpants.

And there was just one hand

sort of gently resting
near her "vadge" area.

Just one stationary hand,

catty-corner to her vadge.

And then there was
a long, thin mustard stain

down the right leg.

It was one of
the most beautiful things

anyone's ever done for me.

So this guy's wife is probably
going through his phone

right now, like,
"Holy shit.

"My husband is cheating on me

"with the most heinous
women imaginable.

Like, who are these
foul truck stop waitresses?"

She's probably like,
"I don't even know if I should
bother bringing this up.

He's clearly never gonna leave
me for either of these pigs."

I got a dick pic recently.

[audience oohing]Um... I know.

You never get a dick pic
when you're expecting one.

It's never...

it's never, like,
you're checking your inbox,

like, where the hell
is that cock?

It was supposed to be
here four hours ago.

That's why dick pics
are hilarious.

They're just very jarring.

Just this rogue dick
in the middle of your day.

It's foolish.

I was just looking at
a beautiful tree

and then I saw it come in.

I'm like,
oh, dear, there's a cock.

It just snaps you
back into things.

I think they're hilarious 'cause
they're just so unnecessary.

It's like, we already know
the dick is there

if we choose
to call upon it.

We don't need, like,
a dirty little reminder.

And guys always look
very stern for some reason

whenever they send dick pics,
they get very serious, you know?

I don't know why you have
to look like a principal

while you're holding
your dumb dick.

"That tool was just
standing there

just really letting me know
I was in trouble," you know?

It's different for you guys,
like, if you get a picture

of a naked woman,
that's exciting, you know?

Because it means
something important.

It means that you might be
inside of her soon, you know?

It's good news.

But, yeah, we already know
that dick is there.

It's always
just littered about.

The street is
littered with dicks.

That's what I'm gonna call
the special, by the way,

"The Street is
Littered with Dicks."

Yeah, dick isn't important.

That's why you can never use
dick as an excuse.

If you called up your friend
and you were, like,

late to his birthday dinner
or something.

You could be like, "Dude,
I'm really sorry I'm late,

but I think I'm gonna
get some pussy,"

and he would understand,
you know?

But if I called up my friend

on some important occasion
in her life...

some moment that she needed me
to be there for her...

And I was like,
"Listen, um...

"I don't know if I'm gonna be
able to make it tonight.

It looks like I might be able to
get my hands on some dick."

She would be like,

"The street is littered
with dicks."

I don't know if anybody
does this, but I like to

look at people's
Facebook pages regularly

and just sort of judge the dumb
shit they post on Facebook

'cause it makes me feel
like a better person.

Yeah.

What I've been doing lately
is I'll just take a picture

of someone's status and then I
mail it out to my other friends.

I'm like, "Look what this
dickhead just put on Facebook."

And then I go back to bed.

I'm like,
I've judged someone, I think
I've done enough for the day.

I think a lot of people
don't know what Facebook is.

I think that's the problem.

I think some people think
that Facebook is, like,

some sort of a God
that you tell

your darkest secrets
to every hour.

They're like, "Finally, I've
found an all-encompassing space

"I can litter my most confusing
and personal thoughts

throughout the day."

Yeah, it's never the people
you think, either.

I became friends
with my accountant.

He seemed like
a reasonable man.

I've been looking at
his statuses

and I think he's in
a real dark place right now.

His last status was just,

"I've never felt so alone
and furious in my entire life."

I'm like,
Jesus Christ, Russell!

You sure you can handle
my 2015 returns?

And then a few hours later,

there'll be, like, a picture
of some pasta that he ate.

I'm like, okay,
he stabilized, thank God.

I think a lot of people
really think

that they're gifting people with
their daily Facebook thoughts.

Like, they really think
they're stepping up

onto some sort of,
like a Facebook balcony,

just doling these--
this brilliance out

to all the peasants, you know,
like, they're some sort

of a Lord, like, "Here you are,
you're welcome, peasants.

Now you know how to think.
I'll lead you."

It's always some
pointless bullshit, too.

There's this one guy and his--

his Facebook statuses
infuriate me.

His last status,
he just wrote,

"We need to put an end
to genocide

once and for all, people."

That's what he gave us.

I'm like,
Thank you so much

for you controversial stance
on genocide.

I was staunchly pro-genocide

before I read your shattering
Facebook exposé.

He has no idea I'm in this rage
cycle with his Facebook page.

Like, every morning,
I get up--

I don't even remember
how I know him.

I think we might've worked
at a pizza place together

when I was like 15.

Now, literally,
every morning,

I leap to his page
before even brushing my teeth

and I'm like,
what the fuck is it now, Kevin?

I'm so sick
of your bullshit!

God damn it! Shit!

The problem is, like,
people like this shit

and that person thinks
they're a genius.

There needs to be another choice
besides "like" or "dislike."

You need to be able to choose,
"I now think you're unstable."

Or, like, "I was considering
sleeping with you,

"but after your genocide post,

you won't be getting
a whisper of puss from me."

That's how I dole out pussy,
you guys, in whispers.

Just a dash of puss.

Another thing he does
that makes me so angry

is he'll write some long,
like, just pointless bullshit.

And then at the end,
he'll be like,

"This will be all
I'll be saying on this subject.

This is my final
statement today."

Like, to announce that, like,

"I won't be responding to
any comments beneath."

I'm like,
you're not the president.

There's not a press corps

just begging for more
of your daily bullshit.

For the love of God,
shut up.

And a lot of people like to
give you constant updates

about some private
medical procedure

their relative
is going through.

It's just such
a confusing instinct.

And then out of boredom,

I'll just find myself
following this shit.

I don't even know this guy
and I'm now I'm tracking

his aunt's
gastric bypass surgery.

He's like,
"Pam has stabilized.

The surgery was
a massive success."

I'm like, well,
are there any pictures?

Where's Pam?

And there's just a picture
of his aunt unconscious,

drooling on
an operating table.

She has no idea that
he's been live-Facebooking

her entire surgery.

I went out with
this guy recently,

he wasn't a douche,
but he was a tool.

I feel like there's
an important difference.

I think a douche
is worse than a tool.

A douche is, like,
some guy named Chad

and his parents
have a lake house

and he likes to screw girls
there, like, side by side,

next to his best friend Tucker
and they high-five

while they're banging 'em,
you know?

Like, a douche is the kind of
guy that doesn't even like

to softly hold women.

[lowered]
Like, he's like, "I don't
gently touch women, bro.

"I'm not gay, all right?

"I ram 'em next to
my best friend

"and we hold hands
while we're nailing 'em.

You know I can't bang chicks
unless I can smell you, Tucker."

I've never understood that, why
men need to fuck side by side.

Like, why do you have to make
some sort of a playdate

out of it?

It seems like you're slowly
trying to edge the woman

out of the equation.

But I feel like a douche
is worse than a tool.

You know,
a douche is a dick.

I don't really have
a problem with a tool.

A tool is just like
a kindly moron,

You know, like...

This guy was dumb,
but I wanted to like him.

You ever been out with somebody,
you just need to like them.

Just 'cause you're lonely,
you just need this person

to be better than
they really are.

Like, I just wanted somebody
I could, you know,

prop up and take to a wedding
if I had to and...

He just wanted me to put out,
so we were working together

on this shared mission
for the evening.

And I've had whole relationships
just based on that idea

that I didn't want
to be alone.

You can trick yourself
into thinking

you're in a good relationship
if you're watching a good series

with that person.

Like...

It's like, it's not
the relationship that's good,

it's the show
you're watching together.

I went out with a wild
alcoholic for years

just because we were watching
"Breaking Bad" together.

He was the kind of drunk

that would just start glaring
at a certain hour,

like, you just get
real suspicious.

But I'll put up with a lot
if I'm entertained.

And every day with an alcoholic
is like a scavenger hunt.

Like, you never know
where it's gonna end.

Like, I came home one night

and he was just sitting
on the edge of his bed

with nothing on except for just
a button-down Hawaiian shirt,

just balls, dick,
and a "Magnum, P.I." top.

And he was just sitting there
like this, like, "Ahh!"

[slurred]
He's like, "Aloha, babe!

I'm not drunk,
I'm not drunk."

Just red-faced,
shit-house wasted.

It's funny where your personal
deal-breakers will lie, though,

because I went out with
a wild drunk for years.

I'm like, just dealt
with anything just so I had

some sort of a man chest to
lay on at the end of the night.

You know, just throw
his stupid body in a cab.

But then one thing
will happen

and I just get disgusted
with somebody.

Like, on a first date, like,
I went out with this guy

and, um, I went back
to his place

and I cannot prepare you guys
for what I'm about to say.

Like, everyone,
just hold hands.

Um...

I went back to his home
and he took off his clothes

and he had
a belly button ring.

I don't even know
what I just said,

and I'm sorry.

I was like, what?!
Like, I was so angry.

I wanted answers.

I'm like, "Why do you have
a belly button?

"You have a man's stomach.

"It's not like
a naughty little space

that you hang
charms off of."

I was like,
"What did the last woman say?"

I was, like, grilling him,
you know?

And he just had no answers,
it was so frustrating.

He was like, "No woman's ever
had a problem with it."

I was like,
who are these women?

I'm like, can I reach
out to them somehow?

Like, who are these
faceless victims?

I'm not gonna be like
the girl beneath you

while your fucking yin yang
hits my stomach

while you're inside of me.

I'm not gonna go down on you
and then, like,

have your bedazzled abs
in my eyeline.

Those are my--
just my personal deal-breakers.

They make no sense
whatsoever.

Wild alcoholic,
nice four years of my life.

I'll just drop it
right in a bucket.

One belly button ring,
I'm like, you stay the fuck away

from me and my family!

Maybe it's just
men's jewelry.

Because I feel the same way
when I see a guy

with a lot of chunky rings,
I just get real disgusted.

Like I imagine him,
like, shaking them off

at the end of the day.

Probably like a ring tray
by his bed.

Disgusting.

I could vomit for hours
just thinking about that.

Or, like, watching him choose
his rings in the morning.

Just like...

Plucking them off
some ring tree.

[lowered]
Like, "I think I'll wear
the raven today,

or maybe my Halloween ring."

Ugh, disgusting.

Men's jewelry, not okay.

Wild, destructive alcoholic,

four to five years,
absolutely.

I'm in, I'm committed.

So this guy was trying to get me
to come back to his place.

And I didn't want to
have sex with him,

but my friends will make fun
of me, 'cause I like to just

go over to guy's places and
make out and cuddle with them.

And they're like,
"Stop doing that.

"No one wants to have
your strange

Christian sleepovers
with you."

I don't know why they call them
my "Christian sleepovers"

since I'm a Jew,
but they're always like--

they're always, like, "Stop
Christian sleepover-ing guys.

It's weird."

It's only if they're already
trying to get me to come over

and then I just, like, try
to be very clinical about it.

I'm like,
"If I come over,

you're gonna have a semi for
the next seven hours or so."

I'm like, "If I was
your sexual attorney,

"I'd recommend that
you don't take this deal.

"It's not a good deal for you.

"Maybe a mediocre hand job,

that's what we're ready
to extend at this point."

And he was nice about it
because he as a tool.

A douche would have been like,

[lowered]
"Forget that shit.

I just screw girls
with my dick, that's it."

"Tucker nearby,
gently face-raking me

while I'm inside them."

But he was a nice tool,

so he was okay
with my dumb terms.

[lowered]
He was, "Yeah, yeah."

It's nothing but a blur.

He was very dumb,

but he was also
really successful.

You know people like that?

Like, he worked in finance
or something,

and he made a lot of money,

but he was very dumb
in every way

except for that
small section of your brain

that you need to make
insane amounts of money.

I've never understood that,
it doesn't seem fair.

Like, every other part
of his brain

is just wild moron
and fuzz and sadness,

but somehow that muddy section
is just really blazing.

Like, everything really
comes together there.

He had this
gorgeous apartment,

but there was nothing
up on the walls

except for there was
just this rally towel

for the team the Braves that was
the centerpiece in his home.

It's just this washcloth
that said "Braves"

that was up with four thumb
tacks above his mantle.

So at least I knew that there
was no woman in his life,

'cause they would never
have allowed a soiled rag

to be displayed like that.

He actually admitted that
he took it down sometimes,

dried his hands with it,
and then remounted it.

And he goes,

"Um, there's this movie about
the Rock, like the wrestler,

and he's one of my heroes."

We just skipped over that.
It was like, okay, um...

And he goes,
"It's about the Rock,

"and, like,
this little girl,

"and like, they have to hang out
together, it's amazing."

He's really pitching
this to me.

He's like, "I mean, 'cause
he's this big guy, you know?

And then he hangs out with
this little tiny girl, right?"

He's like,
"That's great stuff.

"I mean, you know, big guy,
and then he's hanging around

with a little girl
all the time."

I'm like, "I get it.
I get that, that's dumb."

He goes, "I mean, that's
great comedy right there.

You should put something
like that in your skit."

That's how little understanding
he had of what I did.

He thought I could
just walk onstage,

describe a plot of an awful
movie that I didn't write,

and then just drop the mic.

Like,
"You're welcome, everyone."

Like, "Peace."

So we watched that movie
and I've never seen--

I just gave in,
"I was like, fine."

Um, I'm just lying there.

And I've never seen someone
so happy in my life.

Like, and I realized,
like, dumb people win.

They win in every way,
you know?

Like, this tool, I mean,
just this beautiful peace

came across his face
every time the Rock had to,

like, pick up a little purse
or something, he'd be like,

[lowered]
"Babe, look at that!

"She's a tiny little girl,
he's huge!

Oh, my God,
that's funny stuff."

Just kept looking at me like,

[lowered]
"You think too much.
You're thinking too much."

But it's true,
like, he's happy.

I mean, pure joy.

He's reached some sort of
an elevated Buddha-like state.

I'm just sitting there
like gnarled and furious.

Just, like, dissecting
how dumb this movie is

and sitting there,
like, all like, God damn it!

Fuck this shit!

[lowered]
And he's just like,
"Baby, big, little."

Okay, so I'm lying there
in this tool's room

and I was looking--

and I'm staring
at his Braves washcloth.

You ever say something and as
you're saying it, you're like,

this is not acceptable,
as it's actively traveling

out of my mouth
and towards this person?

I was just staring
at his Braves washcloth,

and I just go,

"I feel like if you
opened up your head,

like it was some sort
of a canister,

"there would be
nothing inside

"except for that
Braves washcloth

"and maybe, like,
a crisp $100 bill

"and, like,
a copy of 'Maxim.'

"I feel like those would be
the three and only items

inside your skull."

He just looks at me
and he goes,

[lowered]
"That's exactly what would be
in my skull, baby."

[lowered]
He goes, "Oh, my God,
thank you so much."

I was home visiting
my parents for a while.

I don't know if anybody
feels like this,

but I cannot handle my mom.

She's just too overwhelming.

Like, she-- Everything
about her is just too much.

Like, she's always
stopping people in public

and trying to have these sort of
jazzy moments with people.

Like...

And they're not having
the moments with her.

That's what we want her
to understand.

Like, people listen to her
with this sort of a stance.

They're usually backed up
against some sort of a wall

and they just look like
they feel soiled somehow.

She's doing like a Jazzercise
lunge in their face.

She never questions herself.

She's not
particularly curious

as to how she's being
received by anyone.

Just walks away
from every exchange,

like, "Well,
that was fantastic."

You know, like, she's...

Everything about her
is overwhelming.

She's always wearing
some sort of a long,

menopausal cape.

And she just likes to
let people know

that she's very
culturally aware

and just kinda down
with everything culturally.

Her newest thing she's doing
is she's decided--

She thinks when we go out
to a Latin restaurant

that it's respectful to order
in a Spanish accent.

I'm like, "I don't know where
you've collected this idea,

"but you're a wild asshole.

Stop doing that."

[bad Spanish accent]
She'll be like, "I'll have
the taco al carbon."

And then there's
actually a dance,

she does some sort of
a Latin dance.

We were at this restaurant,

the Mexican waiter
hated my mother so much.

He was just glaring at her,
like, you awful white bitch.

My mom is this close
to his face going,

[high-pitched]
"I love Latino culture!"

[high-pitched]
She goes, "We had
a wonderful trip

recently to Nicaragua."

I was like...

like, "I don't know
what that birdcall was,

"but why would
the Mexican waiter

"care about
your Nicaraguan trip?

Just stop."

[high-pitched]
She goes, "We loved
the people there.

"We found them so inspiring.

They had these large,
brown curious eyes."

Which is the same thing
my mom said

about Allen Iverson
years ago.

She likes to pretend
like she likes basketball,

but we don't believe her.

She's always trying to have
these kind of casual

b-ball conversations
with people.

It's so uncomfortable.

She just like will saddle up
next to somebody and be like,

[high-pitched]
"I'm just so jazzed up
about the NBA this year."

I'm like, "No one says that
that watches basketball."

Not even the Utah Jazz says
they're jazzed up about the NBA.

It's unacceptable.

So she's now got this waiter

on some sort of
Nicaraguan vacation

that he never wanted
to go on.

She's hijacked him,
that's what she does to people.

[high-pitched]
She goes, "Oh, you'll
love the people there.

"They're fantastic.

"They-- they sit by
the side of the road

"in these little clusters.

"Um... these beautiful,
young child slaves

"and all you do
is give 'em a quarter.

"They'll make
anything for you.

"Any marvelous,
indigenous piece,

"they just weave it up
for you.

"You can't give 'em
any more than that, though,

"because then they'll
follow you and they'll...

"they'll ruin your vacation.

"That's when they start asking
for food and water.

"We don't fall
for those tricks.

"They get a drop of water,
they're cut off.

We're savvy travelers."

My mom hates that joke
so much.

My mom hates it,
she's always like,

[high-pitched]
"Can you please take that one
out of your talent show?"

That's what she calls
my standup.

My "talent show."

[high-pitched]
She goes, "I do not
support child slavery

and I'd like it removed from
the talent show immediately."

I'm like, yes, you do,
you white bitch.

She's just
aggressively liberal.

Like, her dream in life

is if I would marry
a Nigerian lesbian.

That's all she wants.

She was just praying
that one of us was gay.

She was just sitting in
the kitchen waiting, just like,

[high-pitched]
"There's cocoa
if anyone's gay

and wants to talk about it!"

I was a weird kid.

I was just, like,
awkward, you know,

like, one of my breasts
grew before the other.

I had, like, a starter tit,
which is not a hot look

for a girl.

There was this one guy Rob,
like, I liked him so much.

And I remember my friend
called him on the phone

and I was, like,
listening in just...

It was the most important
moment of my life.

And she just goes,
"What do you give Rachel

on a score from one to ten?"

[lowered]
And he goes,
"Probably like a four.

You mean the girl
with the lazy tit right?"

And then he goes, "There's
something gross about her,

but I, like, can't
put my finger on it."

Which is so much worse
than, like,

she's ugly or, like,
she's a dog.

It's like, he's actually
trying to get to the bottom

of what's so specifically
foul about me.

He's on some sort of
a personal contemplative journey

to figure it out.

I was devastated.

And then, um, I went up to
this other guy at my school,

um, and I was
like really upset.

And I'm like, "Andre,
I don't know if you heard,

"like, Rob say, like,
a lazy tit, so that means

he definitely
doesn't like me?

Is that--"

And he goes--

He got real serious,
I'll never forget this moment.

He just looks at me
and he goes,

[lowered]
"Don't worry, nothing in life
matters but the ass, that's it."

He talked like Shaq
for some reason.

I was like, "Really? Okay."
And then he goes,

[lowered]
"Little boys think
that tits matter,

but adult men know that
ass matters, that's all."

I'm like,
"But you're 14.

You're not an adult."

[lowered]
He goes, "I want the kind
of ass, you know,

"you just gotta wrangle with.

"I want the kind of ass
that's unruly.

"I want the kinda ass
you gotta take down.

"I want an ass
that just disagrees

"with the rest of the body.

"The ass I want is
gonna scare me at first.

"I'm gonna be real scared.

"I want an ass that
challenges me, you know,

"I gotta take it down,
with, like, a bow and arrow

or some shit."

Like, "That's enough examples
for now, Andre, thank you."

[lowered]
Then he goes, "I'll be outside
during recess on booty watch

if you want to sit with me."

And he did, he had,
like, a station

outside our middle school
where he would just watch asses.

That's how he spent
his lunch break.

He would just sit outside
on, like, a folding chair

with, like,
a two-liter and a hoagie

and a towel on his shoulder.

Like watching asses
was a sport

that could potentially
exhaust him somehow.

Like he'd need to
wipe himself down

after just viewing asses.

But I sat with him,
and then, like, he saw the ass

he was searching for.

He's like, "Shh, shh, shh."

I'm like...

Like, there was a risk
of us waking the ass up.

Like, it was...

We were gonna
rouse it somehow.

But whenever I was sad,
his-- his advice

always came back to ass,
even if it wasn't appropriate.

Like, I'd be like,
"I don't know if you heard,

but my grandma died."

[lowered] He'd be like,
"I know that's upsetting,

"but I just wanna
let you know

that you're thicker
than a Snicker."

I'm like,
"That's not helpful."

I've been seeing this guy now,
and every time we hook up,

he always wants me to do
a sexy dance for him.

It's like, I'll put on
lingerie or something,

but I'm not gonna do a jig,
it's too ridiculous.

I'm like,
"I don't have a jazzy number

I'm gonna prepare for you,
I'm sorry."

Like, this is not
"America's Got Talent."

Finally, I just put on a bikini
and I did the Charleston

above him.

He was disgusted.

He was gently weeping by the
time I was done Charlestoning.

It's very sexy, you guys.

Finally, I gave him
a lap dance,

but I think it was
confusing for him

'cause I was also singing
a lot of Yiddish show tunes.

So I was grinding on him,

which I thought was
a fair compromise,

but I was also going,

[Yiddish accent]
♪ Your smile is my umbrella

♪ How much is that doggy
in the window? ♪

Ahh!

I sang a lot of songs from
"Fiddler on the Roof."

He was fully flaccid by the time
his lap dance was complete.

We fight a lot 'cause, like,
he gets mad at me.

I like to joke after sex
and I'll do this thing

where I'll give him
what I call an Amish hand job,

where I just bat his dick back
and forth, like that.

I'll pretend like
I'm an Amish girl

and I think this is
a really good hand job.

It's like my favorite game
to play.

It's very important
that it's after sex.

It's funnier if the dick
is flaccid

and just being
foolishly batted about.

So you guys, you know, I'm sure
you're about to do it at home,

so I'm just trying to give you
careful instructions.

It's like a game of tetherball
with a dick, just--

The dick is in the middle
and then just...

Sometimes he'll play along.

"That's a good hand job,
Amish."

I'll be like,
"You're welcome, sir.

"Would you prefer
if I lathered it up

with some apple butter
for you?"

Sometimes
he'll let me do it,

but sometimes he'll just
like bat me away.

I can always tell
if he's in a good mood

by whether he'll let me
give him an Amish hand job.

It's a good gauge.

Sometimes he'll put, like,
weird rules on it, you know?

Like, the other day, he's like,
"Listen, do me a favor.

"When we get to
the bed and breakfast,

just don't give me
an Amish hand job."

I'm like, "Why?"

I feel like that's a perfect
setting for an Amish hand job.

Like, in the early 1900s,
that's all men got

were Amish hand jobs,
nothing else.

I just kept bothering him
with Amish hand job facts.

I'm like, "People
that had consumption

"were sometimes roused
back to health

by a long Amish hand job."

The thing with
bed and breakfasts,

it's like, the people
don't want you there, you know?

You're just a reminder
that they can't retire,

but you think you're just
sort of joining lives

with these people--
They hate you.

They... they don't
want you there.

We were sitting at
that communal table

and everybody speaks at that--
in that, like, mild whisper.

They always speak in that
gentle whisper, you know?

Like, at the breakfast table

like they're gonna wake
the antiques or some shit.

And I'm talking to this woman
and I was, like,

listening to her,
she's telling me about her life.

And she's, like,
"We're from Maine

and we have our own farm."

You ever do this,
where as you're listening,

you just stop
and compliment yourself

on what a good listener
you are?

Like, I'm just sitting there
while I'm listening to her

and I'm like,
I am a remarkable listener.

I'm like,
this is pretty fantastic.

I just--

I should win
some sort of an award

for what noble, patient
listening I'm doing right now.

Look at her,
she's still talking.

It's like,
who gives a shit, right?

And I'm just sitting there
taking it all in

with my open, giving face.

I am a fucking nun.

God damn it, shut up.
Please shut up.

Shut up, shut up,
shut up, shut up.

And there was this woman there,
I kinda liked her

on the first day.

I was like, I like Gail.

She just takes trips alone.

I liked that
she was there alone.

I'm like, Gail doesn't give
a shit, just fucking travelling

the country alone,
you know?

And she kept telling us
why she didn't need a man,

but the reasons were getting,
like, too specific, you know?

She's like,
"I don't need a man.

"They fuck your cousin Jen.

I'm like, holy shit, Gail's--

I think Gail's really angry.

Like, she's with these women

that just seem like they
started out divorced,

like, they were
never married.

Just went
straight to divorce.

I was a weird kid.

Nobody ever taught me
how to be a proper woman.

Um, you guys
just looked at me,

like, "We've already
figured that out.

"You don't need to make

some sort of a separate
announcement about that."

I had this nanny and she would
give me a lot of advice,

but there was something
wrong with her.

I'd just be playing
with my dolls on the floor

and she'd be like,

[elderly accent]
"Only whores wear purple."

I'm like,
what just happened?

She had a lot of
specific rules

about whores that
she taught me.

They weren't
particularly helpful.

[elderly accent]
She'd just be like,
"Only whores carry suitcases."

I'm like,
"Really, that's it?

You just carry a suitcase
and you're a Godless whore?"

[elderly accent]
She goes, "Yes, I'll
tell you what they have

"in those little
slut satchels.

"They have all kinds of
creams and rinses

"to cover up their whoring,
that's what they have there.

"Little perfumes
and lotions.

"Little Tinker Bell powders
to cover up

"the rancid things
they've done.

"Knee pads and mouthwash,

"that's what they have
in those slut sacks.

"Good night!

Sleep tight."

That's how she tucked me in,
you guys,

lots of whore warnings and
then lights out for everyone.

She had the world separated
into types of whores.

We'd be just walking down
the street on a lovely day

[elderly accent]
and she'd be like,
"You see that over there?

She's an eastern
seaboard whore."

I'm like, "What could
that possibly mean?"

[elderly accent]
She goes, "You see that whore?

She probably goes to work
with men."

I'm like, "You know,
a lot of them do that now."

[elderly accent]
She goes, "Not in my day.

Only whores worked."

Then she goes, "My father heard
a rumor that we wanted to work,

so he sat us down
and set us straight."

I like that she said he "heard a
rumor" that they wanted to work,

like it was some sort of
a foul thing

that was getting around town.

He probably, like, came back
from his day at the plant

and lit up a fat cigar

and he was just, like,
"I hear you skirts wanna work

"in buildings with men?

"I told you,
you don't need to work.

"You can stay home
and make cupcakes and giggle.

You like giggling,
don't you?"

She was probably innocent once.

[high-pitched]
She was probably like,
"It's true, Papa,

"we do want to
go outside sometimes.

"It's not just
a nasty rumor,

"I'm afraid it's true.

Why, sometimes,
we get bored at home."

[lowered]
"I told you whores,
if you get bored,

"you can practice looking at a
pretty pattern or doing a twirl.

You'd like that,
wouldn't you?"

[high-pitched]
"Yeah, we twirled for
a lot of hours, Papa,

"but I want to go out
and do something.

"Wouldn't that be exciting?
Me, doing something?

"Come on, Papa.

"No, Papa, I want to do
something more fun.

I can't be
a cheerleader forever."

[lowered]
"Yes, you can,
you'll be a paper shaker

"until you're 30
and then you've gone rancid.

We talked about that."

[high-pitched]
"But, Papa, I want to do
something exciting.

"I mean, sometimes
I get bored, and, you know,

"I'm sure it'll be
hard outside

"and if I try to do
something big,

"I know it'll be difficult
and my tits will get confused.

"I'd like to be a pilot.

"Imagine that, me, oh,
sure, it'd be scary,

but come on, Papa,
let me try it."

[lowered]
"Are you crazy? What's next?

You start wearing wristwatches
and having opinions?"

[high-pitched]
"Well, then maybe
I could be a stewardess.

"Come on, Papa, imagine that,
me, a waitress on a plane.

"And again, sure, my tits
would get confused sometimes,

"but I'd like to try it.

Come on, please, Papa,
let me try it."

[lowered]
"That sounds like
an opinion to me.

"Why don't we take you down
to the old lobotomy factory

"and take a nice,
sweet chunk out of your brain,

the talking-back part?"

[high-pitched]
"No, I don't want to go to
the lobotomy factory.

"Ever since Mildred came back,
she's useless.

Now all she does is flap around
and spit in the corner."

Stay with me, guys,
I know this is getting weird.

Um...

[high-pitched]
"Come on, Papa, please,

"let me be a waitress
on a plane at least.

I know I'm just a woman,
but I want to try."

[lowered]
"You can't be a waitress
on a plane.

Only whores carry suitcases!"

That was it, you guys,

the end of
their hopes and dreams.

I was in Vegas recently.

A lot of douchery in Vegas.

Thank you. Um...

I feel like people go to Vegas
to be a douche, you know?

Like, I kind of feel sorry
for Vegas in that way.

We've just chosen this place we
go and, like, smear our asshole

all over, you know?

It's not really Vegas's fault.

We've just decided that when
we want to be a complete dick,

we go to Vegas
and do it there, you know?

It's funny, like, sometimes
you'll see somebody at home

and they seem like
an okay person

and then you see them in Vegas
and you're like,

"Holy shit."

I saw this guy I knew there,

like, he seemed like
a pretty normal guy.

I see him in Vegas, he was,
like, so drunk, he's like,

wet, just falling
through the casino.

I'm like, "I'll see you
back home, Scott.

You need to work through
some shit, clearly."

I was just sitting
by the pool with my friends

and these guys walk up to us,
my favorite types,

like, young,
date-raping jocks, just...

Some guy looks like he just
graduated from Rape Tech

or some shit.

And he was so drunk,

he was sort of gently swaying--
Just my type.

And he walked up and he goes,

[lowered]
"What are you two
lovely bitches doing?"

He called us--
called us "lovely bitches,"

which is also a poem
by Emily Dickinson.

[lowered]
Then he goes, "I would
actually like to have sex

with both of you ladies."

He said it like it was
a special Christmas offer.

[lowered]
Then he goes, "I bet you don't
know what Vegas is all about."

[high-pitched]
I was like, "I don't know,
you explain it to me.

My tits are confused."

[lowered]
And he goes, "Vegas is actually
about sex and money, ladies."

He said it like that was
a real breakthrough concept

to come out about Vegas.

I'm like, "Isn't that
pretty much what it says
on the brochure?"

[high-pitched]
"But I thought Vegas
was about eating organic

"and unconditional love.

"I thought Vegas

"was supposed to be
all about loyalty and trust.

"Oh, if what you say is true,

"we've got to tell
the detectives, and fast.

Even my tits are concerned."

He did not care for me at all,
he was a real prince.

He was the one that got away
is what he was.

He just goes like this to me,
he goes, mmm...

He tries to erase me
like I was a chalkboard.

I've never been
manually erased before,

but it's not a good feeling.

And then he got frustrated
when he couldn't erase me.

[lowered]
He's like, "What the fuck?
I can't erase this bitch!

Get over here, Tucker!
I can't erase her!"

It's just good to be home.

I've been on the road
for a while.

Usually comedy clubs
don't give a shit about us.

They'll just send
like any sex offender

to go get us
from the airport.

I was in Alabama
and they sent this man--

You know when you meet someone
and just right away,

you're like, oh, you're crazy,
like, as soon as I met him.

I get into his car, this is
the first thing he said to me,

it's what he felt comfortable
just opening with.

[Southern accent]
He just goes, "Are you ready
to protect your family?"

I'm like, what the hell?

I don't even have a family.

I mean, I'm pregnant,
but not for long.

And then he took me
to the hotel.

He kept explaining to me how
he was gonna kill an intruder

if they came to his home.

It was a very soothing,

kinda getting-to-know-you
conversation.

[Southern accent]
He's like, "I'll tell you
how I'm gonna get 'em,

tell you how I'm gonna
get them bandits."

He goes, "If they come through
my north door--"

I'm like, first of all,
it's your front door.

It's-- it's not the military.

He was getting
more and more excited.

[Southern accent]
He's like, "I'll tell you
how I'm gonna get 'em."

He was one of these people,
like, nothing would make him

more upset than if no one
ever breaks into his home

and just tries to kill
the bejesus out of his wife

and family, like...

That's his dream,
that's what he beats to

furiously every night.

That he gets to kill 'em all
in some sort of blaze of glory

and then they carry him around
the room afterwards like a hero

and sprinkle Gatorade
and pussy on him

or whatever he thinks
is gonna happen.

And then he took me
back to the airport.

I don't know if you've had
this experience with someone

where, like, they think you've
been slowly falling in love

and you've been
actively terrified

the entire time
you're with them.

He pulled up

and he had this sort of
gross, romantic expression

that I didn't care for.

[Southern accent]
And he goes, "I just
want to say, I thought

we shared some pretty
special moments together."

And then he says,

"And you is the first Jewish
that I had ever known."

Yes.

So I was extremely aroused.

Never been someone's
first Jewish before

and it's just
a big turn-on for me.

And then he had this duffel bag
with him and he reached inside,

he had a little trick
in his eyes.

I'm like, what the hell
is gonna be in this psychotic

courtship sack
he's brought along?

And he pulled out a painting
that he had made for me

of a Star of David.

It was one of the most
disturbing things

I've ever seen.

You could take one look at it
and you'd know, he will kill.

He'll kill soon.

So he-- he whips out
this Star of David painting

and he started flapping it
around my face

and he was making
these weird sounds.

[Southern accent]
He was going, "Come on, baby,
there she goes, yeah.

Oh, my baby likes her Star
of David, yes, she does."

This happened to me,
you guys.

I was sitting in
a man's dirty Oldsmobile

and he was flapping
a Star of David in my face.

Like some sort of a redneck
matador or something.

And he kept flapping it at me
and watching me.

I'm like, what does
he want to happen right now?

Then I think I realized,
I think he thought

that that's all you have to do
to fuck a Jew.

Like, maybe his uncle
told him that

when he was a kid
or something.

Maybe he took him aside
and he was like,

[Southern accent]
"If you ever want
to screw a Jew,

"you just gotta flap
a Star of David

"around the Jew's face.

"Keep flapping it,
be patient, you know?

"Take your time,

"it's just like trying
to get a little puppy

"out from under a porch,
just keep flapping it.

"And then once the Jew's
ready to be entered,

"her skin's gonna turn
like the color of money.

"Once it's at that nice,
sweet, currency color,

"that's when you got her
where you want her.

"And she'll just be
begging for it.

"She's gonna crawl out
from that porch

"where she controls
the media

"and she's
just gonna be like...

'Stick it in, stick it in!
Stick it in me!'"

So we live together now,
and, um...

I've never felt so safe,
you guys.

I know that at any moment
when that group of bandits

come crashing through
our north door,

he's gonna kill
the shit out of them.

That's so hot.

I was in Buffalo recently.

I like to watch a lot of,
like, murder on TV.

I don't know
if anybody else does.

I love "Forensic Files,"
I can't get enough.

I can't go to bed without
watching "Forensic Files"

and, like,
a "Wives with Knives."

I don't know what that
says about me, but...

I think it's because it makes
you feel like an amazing person.

Like, if you watch a few
"Forensic Files" back-to-back,

you'll really think
you're running a tight ship

in your life.

Like, I'm just lying there,
like, stuffing pound cake
in my face,

I'm like caking,
watching "Forensic Files."

And I actually had this thought,
I was like, "I'm a good person.

"I don't have the slightest
desire to kill a hooker.

It's never occurred to me."

So I'm lying there
and then my manager calls me

and he's like,
"Listen, um, Jenna Jameson,

the porn star, wants to
come to your show tonight."

And I was like,
"Why is she in Buffalo?"

And then...

he was like, "I don't know,
I'll try to figure that out.

I think it's strange, too."

So I was like, "Okay,
yeah, she can come."

And I'm just lying there,
caking, trying to figure
all this out.

He calls me back again,
he's like,

"Okay, so she wants to take you
to your show tonight."

I'm like, that's strange, but I
just continued to meet all of
Jenna Jameson's demands.

I'm like,
"Very well. All right."

And then he calls back again
and he was like,

"It turns out Jenna Jameson
is staying at your hotel."

I was like,
all right, it's even weirder.

And then he was like,
"She's in the lobby.

"She wants you to come down.
She's waiting.

She's been waiting for a while."
So I'm like, all right.

I'm like Jenna Jameson's
bitch now.

I'm like getting ready
for her frantically.

I was kind of nervous.

I was like, trying to
figure out what to wear.

And I'm like--
I was trying to imagine

what she would be wearing
and I figured she'd probably

be wearing
one of those dresses

you buy from the dildo store,
you know?

She'll probably be dressed
in some sort of

like a naughty costume,
like a whorey crossing guard

or some shit.

So I come downstairs
and she's sitting in the lobby.

She's not dressed
in a dildo dress,

but she's, like, just wearing
this, like, big coat,

and, like, some ironic
Malcolm X glasses.

'Cause I realize, like,
she's the kind of hot

where you have to wear
a disguise when you go outside,

or it's like,
not safe, you know?

Like, men will just be coming
everywhere, you know,

like, everybody'll just be
slipping and falling, you know?

We're sitting there
and she just looks at me

[high-pitched]
and she's like, "You and me,
life on the road."

And I'm like, I think she
thinks we do the same thing.

Okay.

So-- so we're going over
to the comedy club,

and it's like, the green room
is like packed with, like,

horny comedians that are
pretending they're there
to support me,

but they just want to meet
Jenna Jameson, you know?

Like, guys in, like, winter
coats looking real backed up

and horny and angry.

I'm sitting next to her and
one of the guys looks at her,

one of the comedians
looks at her and he goes,

"So are you a big
Rachel Feinstein fan?"

[high-pitched] And she goes,
"I want to have sex with her."

Right?
I could not handle that.

I just got, like,
really uncomfortable.

So for some reason,
my way of dealing with that

was that my voice just got,
like, really deep, you know?

[Scottish accent]
I just go, "Oh, Jenna, relax."

I became, like,
a Scottish sailor?

[Scottish accent]
I was like, "Oh, Jenna, come on,
the sea is unpredictable."

I'm like,
what just happened?

She was completely
comfortable.

Like, she just kept flirting
with me the way like--

like a girl flirts
with a straight guy.

I'm like, I don't know
where to place any of this.

This doesn't do anything for me,
I'm very confused.

She just kept being, like,

[high-pitched]
"Oh, I want-- You're not
paying attention to me."

And so...

And then...

and then one of the comedians
looks at her, he's like,

"So how did you first
get into Rachel's stuff?"

And she goes,

[high-pitched]
"I was very turned on by her
last Comedy Central special."

Which, I think
was very confusing,

'cause I do these
like heinous characters.

I don't really do
like a sexy act.

Trying to figure out what would
have turned Jenna Jameson on

out of my material.

I was just, like,
rifling through it in my head.

I'm just imagining me, like,

[Yiddish accent]
♪ Your smile is my umbrella

♪ How much is that doggy
in the window? ♪

And then Jenna Jameson
just like

finger blasting the day away.

Her just...

her just lying there, like,

[high-pitched]
"Fuck yeah!

"Fuck my pussy,
fuck yeah! Yeah!

Yeah, fuck yeah! Yeah!"

I'm just assuming
she makes the same sounds

that she makes in porn,
I don't know.

[high-pitched]
"Yeah, fuck yeah!"

And then her manager was like,
you should tell the crowd

that Jenna Jameson's here.

I'm like,
I'm not gonna do that.

Then everyone's just gonna
ignore my entire show

and just start beating off.

So the other comedian was like,
"Well, maybe I'll say it."

So he goes on stage,
he does a few minutes,

and then all of a sudden,
he just looks at the crowd

and he makes,
like, an announcement

that Jenna Jameson's there.

He's like,
"Ladies and gentlemen,

Jenna Jameson is in the house."
Right?

Like it was a fire drill
or something.

Everyone went crazy,

you know, 'cause again,
it's Buffalo.

They're like,
"Holy shit!" you know?

They went nuts,
and then Jenna Jameson stood up.

I have never related
to a person less.

She stood up and she
just went like this.

[high-pitched]
She was like, "Fuck yeah!"

Did like a pity jig
for herself.

I'm like, what would it
feel like to have the impulse

to do that, just to stand up
and do, like, a celebrational,

like, titty dance, like,

[high-pitched]
"Yeah, it's me."

I was like, oh,
that's a choice.

And so...

And then, the comedian's
mother was in the audience

and she was just
very confused.

And she didn't know why this
woman was getting more attention

than her son and she didn't know
who Jenna Jameson was

'cause she didn't
watch a lot of porn.

So the mom just screams out
all of a sudden,

"Jenna Jameson sucks!"

And I'm like, oh, shit!

My God.

Four hours ago,
I was just laying on my bed,

watching "Wives with Knives,"
caking.

Some shit is happening
in my life right now.

And then Jenna Jameson
stands back up--

Again, I'm just
watching all this,

I have to go on after this.

And she does the same dance,
but this time, she's angry,

but it seems just as happy
as the last dance.

[high-pitched]
She's like, "Fuck you, bitch!"

She's like,

"Fuck you, you fucking bitch,
I'm Jenna Jamison."

All right, so...

so then, she just
calms down, I guess.

And then I get on stage

and then all of a sudden,
she stands up again.

At this point, I'm like
comfortable scolding her.

I've known her for
like four hours.

I'm like, "What is it, Jenna?"
you know?

She stands up and she just looks
at the crowd and she goes,

[high-pitched]
"Rachel Feinstein!
Fuck that shit!"

[Scottish accent]
I'm like, "That's not helpful,
Jenna, settle down!"

[high-pitched]
Like, "Rachel Feinstein--"

[Scottish accent]
I'm like, "Jenna, the storm
is angrier than ever,

"get off the decks!

"We'll never make it through
the night, we'll all perish.

Hoist the main sail!"

And just, like, more boating
advice, sailing advice.

I'm like, "Never board a ship
without your rudder

and compass, mate!"

I don't know
what was happening.

So she just, like,
sits down, like...

[high-pitched whining]

Then I finish my show

and then she walks up
to me afterwards

and she starts taking pictures
of the two of us.

And, like, she just
like looks all hot

and I just look more and more
Scottish and alarmed and...

And then she just
looks at me and she goes,

[high-pitched]
"Now I'm gonna need your number

"because I'm taking
pictures of us

and then I'll have to
send them to you."

[mumbling]

"You better give me
your number."

I'm like,
"I'll give you my number.

Here it is."

So...

so we exchange phone numbers.

And then she's like,

[high-pitched]
"Are you coming over
to the nightclub later?"

It was like some place
I would never go.

Like some nightclub
I'd never wanna step foot in.

It was like a name
that sounds like a sound

or something,
like Bam or something.

[high-pitched]
She's like, "You better be
at Bam in two hours or..."

[high-pitched]
And I'm like,
"Okay, I'll be there."

Like...

I just decided,
I'm gonna meet

every one of
Jenna Jameson's demands,

everything until I'm expected
to scissor her.

Like, I'll do everything
pre-scissoring,

and then I'm out, like, I can't
handle that, it's too much.

And so we go over to the club
and she walks up to me

[high-pitched]
and she's like,
"We need to talk."

And I'm like, "Okay,
what do you want to say?"

"We're gonna have
a talk right now."

I'm like...
[high-pitched whining]

So...

[high-pitched]
She goes, "Listen.
I need to tell you something

and it's really important."

[Scottish accent]
So I was like, "Whatever you've
got to say, I'm ready for it.

The storm is more fierce
than it's ever been."

And she goes...

[high-pitched] She goes,
"I need to tell you something
and it's really important.

Our hotel is haunted."

At that point,
I wasn't even surprised.

So I was like,
"All right, of course.

Yes, Jenna Jameson, of course
our hotel is haunted."

And she goes,

[high-pitched]
"Look, don't freak out,

"like, the ghosts aren't bad.

"Um... I think we just need
to have a talk with them.

Most of them are just people
that miss their families."

[Scottish accent]
Like, "All right, yes, okay.
Jenna, fine, very well.

Something something
Scottish."

[high-pitched]
She goes, "But I think I know
what we can do about it.

"I think the best thing
to do is, um,

"if you want to come over
to my room tonight,

"um, we can deal
with the ghosts together.

Because I actually have a really
good relationship with ghosts."

Again, I'm like, of course.
Of course you do.

[high-pitched]
She goes, "I'm a really good
communicator with ghosts,

"so if you want to come back
to my room, we'll, like,

do a séance, and we'll talk
to the ghosts together."

And at that point,
I was like,

that's the most brilliant way
to get a girl

to just come back to your room
and sit on your face, like...

Just pretend that there are,
like, evil ghosts

and you can just scissor
the ghosts gone.

But I couldn't handle it.

And I was like-- I was like,
ahh, I can't, you know.

I realized, like, if I'm gonna
hook up with a girl,

it's not gonna be
Jenna Jameson.

I can't start there.

That's just too terrifying,
you know?

Like, I'm not gonna have any,
like, moves that impress her

or anything.

Like, what am I gonna do,
just give her an Amish hand job?

I got nothing for her
but Amish hand jobs.

That's all I got.

Thank you guys so much!

Thank you!

♪♪

And that's when I knew
that I wanted to do comedy.

Grape.

Thank you.

All right,
I'll just...

I feel like we're good
with all of this.

I feel like I could
just do this.

Thank you.

You don't need any touch-ups,
right, you're good?

Uh, no, I--All right, thank you,
that's all.

Thank you.
Thank you.

When I won the Emmy,

they called my name
and I thought, no!

And then I thought...
yeah.

Have you read my blog?No. I, uh--

I haven't stopped by.

Oh, my God,
you have to read my blog.

It's really smart
and I feel like everybody

could really benefit
from it.

Oh, what advice
can I give you?

Think of me.Mm-hmm.

[Amy humming]

[woman]
So easy.