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A NETFLIX ORIGINAL COMEDY SPECIAL

Official YIFY movies site: YTS.MX

What's up, guys!

I don't deserve this, man!

I'm not that good.

Easy, easy.

Don't raise your expectations too high, easy.

How are you, guys? My own Netflix Special, dude!

I'm scared.

I don't know what the Netflix algorithm may offer after my show.

"Did you like Rafinha Bastos?

Watch Life and Work of Adolf Hitler." I don't know.

I don't know what may happen.

"Did you like Rafinha Bastos? Watch Pedophilia: Crime or Disease?"

I don't know what may happen.

The crazy thing is, I've been thinking...

This show will be on Netflix for many years.

Many people will watch it after my career is over...

which is kinda soon.

So let me introduce myself.

I'll even look at the camera. If you don't know me,

if you wanted a documentary on the life of Cauby Peixoto, but found me,

If you wanted Galinha Pintadinha, but found me,

I'm Rafinha Bastos and I was very popular in the past.

I've had a lot of money, many TV shows,

and now...

Now I'm here.

On stage. That's all I have left.

Am I happy here?

No.

Do I need the money? I sure do.

Because if I don't make money, Vanessa Camargo will starve to death.

So...

If I don't...

I'm the middleman in that negotiation.

I'm Wanessa Camargo's 24/7 ATM.

I keep it warm for two days, she comes and gets it.

That poor thing. How would she make money? With talent? That's impossible!

Did I say that? No way. I would never. I was just...

You applaud this stuff, I get fucked, and Brazil is happy. Is that it?

If you don't know who she is

let me explain because her career is over too.

If you don't know, I made a joke saying I would fuck her and her baby.

And now I'm a hobo, as you watch this.

But I like doing shows, man. The energy of getting on the stage.

The crazy adrenalin of "Will they like me? Will they sue me?"

"Will I sleep at home or in jail tonight?

Being raped and screaming,

'Yes, Jamanta, I'm your whore now! Stop!'"

I don't know.

Anything can happen today, man.

But I love it.

I'm addicted to comedy, doing shows, making people laugh, the stage.

I feel like comedy is my cocaine, and I'm Fábio Assunção.

That's pretty much how I feel. It's a...

Kinda like that.

The difference is, when he snorts coke, he puts his career in danger,

and when I make jokes...

Yeah, it's the same.

Same thing.

Poor Fábio Assunção. Why am I talking about him?

I want him... to go fuck himself. And I'll explain why.

When things went south in my career,

he was one of the first guys to say I'm an asshole.

You can't say stuff like that. Many artists, famous people

roasted me to the media.

Ronaldo, Ronaldo Nazário.

They asked him, "What do you think about Rafinha?"

He said, "Rafinha Bastos is a threat to the Brazilian family."

I'll say it again. Ronaldo...

I'm not a person who criticizes people.

But I think when you are caught snorting coke from a tranny's asshole,

maybe you're not the right person to criticize your neighbor.

And everybody is able to turn things around. That's impressive.

I'm the only one getting fucked all the time. All of them!

Fábio Assunção is in a ton of soap operas.

Ronald is making money with ads.

Even the goalkeeper Bruno recovered.

Did you see that? A while ago, he was even playing again.

He was welcomed by the team's fans.

People were celebrating, throwing fireworks.

"Now we have our Rogério Ceni, a killer goalkeeper!."

People said it! The crowd said that.

I don't know if you saw it.

When I saw that story,

his loving welcoming,

I thought, "I'm so fucking stupid.

If instead of making a joke, I had dismembered Vanessa Camargo...

Maybe...''

No, wait.

How can you applaud that?

''Maybe I would have been luckier.' That's all I mean.

Not that I want something bad to happen to her.

Quite the opposite.

I want her to be lucky in life, be healthy, I don't care.

But, concluding about Brazil,

making a joke sometimes is riskier than killing a person.

So here's my advice: ''Next time, don't make fun, kill.''

Kill the person. Do it.

I say that to my son everyday, dude.

I do.

"Do you have a chubby friend? Don't make fun of him.

Take this knife...

and cut the fatty's neck.

This fatty is going to fucking sue someone.''

I tell him that.

Listen to me. I'm a good father.

People got the impression that I am totally broke.

They see me walking on the streets and say, "Fuck, man."

"Look at you, man. Poor you. I feel so bad."

I feel like I'm walking around with a tumor in my forehead.

The other day a hobo walked up to me.

Completely fucked up, torn, shitty, wounded, head's down...

"Please, give me money. I'm hungry. I'm so fucked up."

Then, he looks at me and goes,

"Rafinha Bastos?

Man, you are so fucked.

I ain't smoking crack anymore. Spend these five bucks on you.

You need it more than I do."

People think I am that fucked.

I was 16 times the subject of the Showdown of Faith.

That show where pastors help people. Sixteen times!

I showed up there more than the devil himself.

Once the devil called them, outraged,

"Why the hell is he so special? Give me my fucking space back."

I appeared there more times than demonic themes like possessions, reincarnations,

and Pepê & Neném.

They are pretty demoniac to me.

Pepê & Neném.

I love Pepê & Neném.

It's so funny. "Pepê & Neném". I love it.

By the way, they are working out.

They are tiny and squared, like two Fiat Unos.

Pepê & Neném.

They were a hit in Showdown of Faith.

"Pepê & Neném: Twin Sisters or Orthopedic Boots?"

Look it up.

It's not true.

It's not true.

Pepê & Neném...

I'd make more fun of that,

but last time I joked about a "baby", I got fucked hard, so...

I better shut my mouth.

Many people ask me... Because, for a while,

people were talking a lot about me, I was on the media, being criticized...

Many friends ask me, "Rafinha, how did you stay sane?

In all that chaos, how did you not lose it?"

My answer is the same, "When I'm fucked,

I try to focus on someone who's more fucked than I am."

That's the secret.

"Are you miserable? Think of flood victims."

That's what I do.

Think of William Waack.

Done. The same thing.

If a flood victim thought about William Wack, she'd be happy.

He's quite fucked.

William Wack... That one talked some shit on TV.

Fuck.

And trust me, when Rafinha Bastos thinks you talked shit on TV...

You better believe it.

I've had hard times in my life.

To keep my sanity, I focus on them. I've been through some hard times.

I don't even like to remember or to talk about them on stage, but I...

I've worked for RedeTV!

It's true. RedeTV!

The Guaraná Dolly of television channels.

RedeTV! is basically the worst place on Earth.

People who work there know they've failed in life.

So much so that, when a director there died,

people in the backstage were saying,

"What a lucky son of a bitch.

For him, this is over, man."

It's great to know that people like my work.

It's great to see this place crowded, the show being recorded...

I'm really fucking happy you guys are here.

It's true.

Really.

To know that even after all my professional choices,

even though some of them are a bit questionable...

it's good to know people like it. It's fucking awesome.

The other day I ran into a fan. Sometimes I meet fans. It happens.

I still have some fans.

"Rafinha, I really enjoy your work! High-five!"

He stretched his arm to me, and I was so happy...

He didn't have a hand.

What do you do at times like these?

I couldn't just say, "Ew, dude. Gross.

What an agony!

So gross!''

I couldn't do that.

Do I shake his stump? I don't know. What would you do? Think.

If you shake the stump, how do you do it? Using both hands?

Or like a door handle?

Or the shower technique?

"Hot."

I don't know what to do.

I don't know the etiquette.

In such moments, I usually make the wrong decisions.

In socially awkward moments.

I stretch my hand, he stretches his...

his baseball bat.

I took a look--

You're all going to hell. All of you.

It's very wrong to clap.

Very wrong. I won't. I'm not laughing at it.

Listen up.

I stretched my hand,

he stretched his baseball bat...

What did I do? I fist-bumped him.

I said, "Hey!"

Yeah, baby.

No? I didn't know what to do.

I swear I did it.

I always make terrible decisions...

in socially awkward moments. I do.

The other day I met a friend who was getting an American visa.

His daughter was there. Blond, pretty.

When I went to greet her with a kiss,

I got a few inches away from her, I noticed, "Shit. It's a dude."

Right here.

Then...

Fuck.

What do you do?

You can't just head bump the guy.

I can't do that.

Why would I?

"Take that, bitch!"

What do you do? What should I do?

I'll say to her, "Oh, capoeira!"

I don't know what to do.

This is the moment I fuck up.

There is my friend with his son/daughter...

and eight other friends.

I kiss his son...

and then I kiss all his eight friends.

I just wanna prove that this is who I am. I kiss guys.

I'm like that.

"I'm not from around here."

And I explain myself during the kiss.

"You gotta kiss everybody. Just a little kiss."

After six minutes, there I am.

The worst thing is that I'm not even sure the eight dudes were his friends.

Maybe they were eight random guys waiting in line, and I kissed them.

I'm an idiot, man.

I'm a moron.

I screw up. I do stupid things...

I remember something that happened a while ago.

I was a teenager, in Porto Alegre,

and there was a dog near my house.

He was always barking at me on my way to school.

And never does shit his entire life.

Once, the gate was open and he bit my mom.

My mom almost died.

Why? Because she's old.

And old people kinda die for anything.

Old man falls, old man dies. Why? He's old.

All old people die. Eventually they die. Don't worry.

Why did I say that? I don't know.

And then I got pissed! I think: ''When I walk by that house,

if the gate is open, I'll kick the owner's ass.''

And that's what I did. Two days later, I see the gate open,

and there's an old man there with his two kids,

I put a finger on this face and say, "Son of a bitch!

People are dying because of this fucking open gate."

The guy was this short.

He looked like Danny DeVito. He was baldy, and...

had a huge mustache all the way here.

"Keep this shit closed, you asshole." And slapped his face.

His mustache went...

Like this.

I immediately felt bad.

Why am I hitting this guy? This is ridiculous.

I walked away. There was a news-stand there,

and the owner said, "Are you looking for the dog owners?

They moved last week."

I hit a random guy.

He probably still awakes in the middle of the night, like,

"Close the gate! Close it!

Close the gate! He's coming after me!

Close the gate, for God's sake!"

Their car is stuck in there and he won't open the gate for 17 years.

It's stuck in there. I'm an idiot.

But the stump guy was fucked up.

I will never forget.

I admit it's a fear I have.

I'll admit it. Maybe it's some kind of prejudice.

Amputees stress me.

Some people are afraid of midgets.

A friend of mine does. "He will get me."

''Shit, just walk away.''

That's it.

Are you afraid? ''Bye, midget.

Bye.

Bye, midget.

Yeah. Run, midget. Good for you.''

But it really agonizes me, man.

As a kid, I had a colleague, Clarissa. She was an armless girl.

She was a genius, top of the class.

The teacher always said, "Be inspired by Clarissa,

she is a complete student."

Just...

Let's rethink the adjective, that's all.

And Clarissa was my friend.

She would always score As, and I'd say, "Fuck, Clarissa.

Why do you even study, Clarissa?

You have a huge excuse not to do anything, Clarissa."

If I were Clarissa, my life would be totally different.

The teacher would say, "Rafinha, you didn't do your homework."

"You know why? I have no arms!

I can't even wipe my ass, teacher.

How will I write three pages on Mesopotamia?

If I had arms, I would slap your face right now. I would.

Leave me alone. I'm leaving."

I don't know how armless people walk.

Anyways.

But we experience failure everyday.

Mankind throws failure on our faces.

I felt it on Instagram. Fucking Neymar.

Neymar is always posting his awesome life.

Mine is shit. That's how I feel all the time.

The other day, I went to Campos do Jordão with my family. I was so happy.

Fucking awesome trip. Fantastic trip.

My son, my wife, and I. So happy.

Let me post a pic. I was proud.

The caption said, "Going to Campos do Jordão."

Then, I saw his post: "Just bought a ship."

Fuck you, Neymar.

I don't wanna go to Campos do Jordão anymore.

I don't want this kid anymore. I want a fucking ship.

I would exchange him for a tiny boat. Fuck you, child.

I wanna sail the world.

The guy's got a blessed life.

The other day he posted a pic of him on a private jet,

with two hotties and champagne.

And the caption was: "May God bless us."

Let me tell you, Neymar...

God is not blessing us.

Okay?

He's focusing his blessing...

on one person.

That's why people are dying, Neymar.

God could save them.

But guess what? He's busy getting Neymar a new jet.

It's your fault.

The first comment on his "May God bless us" post

was from a beautiful, gorgeous woman.

"Neymar, I wanna be your little whore."

Just like that.

On the "May God bless us" post.

Let's not forget that.

If he ever posts "Who wants to be my little whore,"

the world ends.

He has a fucking great life.

Neymar's great life dilemma, before getting hurt,

was staying in Barcelona or going to Paris.

Terrible fucking dilemma, dude.

He either stays in Barcelona, making millions to play soccer,

or goes to Paris...

to make millions playing soccer.

"What do I do? I don't know!"

The day I read that, my greatest dilemma was:

"Should I go to the DMV on foot or by bus?"

I don't know.

"Should I get my new ID copy on foot or by bus?

I don't know what to do."

On foot, it would take me four hours. By bus, someone will come on my neck.

I don't know.

Life is hard out here, Neymar.

Some people got emotionally involved with Neymar's choice.

"Neymar, don't do this!" "Neymar, just do it!"

I saw an outraged guy saying, "Neymar, don't go to Paris.

You are going to ruin your life.''

The user was @JoeRepairs.

Fuck, Joe. What do you know?

Fuck off, Joe.

You have to hang drywall tomorrow.

That's why the work is always delayed.

Go help your wife. Your daughter just had cleft lip repair surgery.

Stay the fuck home.

A while ago, I read this article that said

that Neymar earns a minimum wage per minute.

Not in the field, in life.

Do you know what that means?

Everytime he takes a dump, he earns a Fiat Palio.

When I read this article, I got pissed and commented,

"Fuck, Neymar.

I wanna be your little whore."

Who doesn't?

I have a theory...

Actually, I have a few weird theories.

I wanna share this one with you.

I have a theory that Japan colonized the state of Ceará.

Wait for it.

Hold on to your lawsuit, I'll explain.

Calm down, lawyers, hold your horses.

I'll explain. There's a theory behind it.

Every time I go to a Japanese restaurant, the sushi-man is from Ceará.

How do you explain that?

When did that interchange happen?

Between Tokyo and Campina Grande.

No one told me about it.

You get there and it's full of them with headbands.

It looks like you're in the new Rambo of Paraíba contest.

Weird.

And they make great sushi. Very good work, guys.

They cut sushi with a redneck knife and say, "S'up, y'all!"

That's how they do it.

I think it's...

Japanese restaurants in general are a very inspiring universe for humor.

The food comes in a boat.

I never understood that. Why a boat?

A friend of mine said, "Why a boat?

Because it comes from the sea."

That's why.

That doesn't make any sense.

When I eat pork, it doesn't come in a sty.

Waiter, bring me an egg. But not in a dish in the chicken's asshole.

Makes no sense.

The food names in a Japanese restaurant are also weird.

Temaki, Uramaki, Ricardo Macchi. You never...

The name never tells you if the fucking food is good.

You gotta bring your own translator.

You gotta go there with your wife and Master Miyagi...

to translate the menu.

Unlike a steakhouse.

It's different.

When you hear the name of the meat,

just by the way it sounds, you already know

in your brain and in your heart, if the meat is good.

Picanha steak.

Great name.

If Picanha steak had a dick, I'd suck it.

Picanha steak!

Please.

Picanha steak. What a tasty cock. I'd suck it clean.

Tri-tip sirloin.

Tri-tip sirloin is always tasty.

Tri-tip sirloin!

Now, hump steak. That sucks.

Hump steak. What a shitty name.

It's so shitty, it's not noble enough to come on the spit,

it comes in a little cart.

Have you ever seen the hump steak cart?

What a sad thing! The guy drags what looks like a corpse.

It's a heavy cart.

And the guy serving hump steak knows that his meat is shit...

because he's never excited.

''Hey, guys! Hump steak!''

Yeah! That never happens.

He always comes, like...

"Hump steak.

Hump steak.

My life sucks.

Hump steak."

The guy serving hump steak...

did some fuck up shit in the steakhouse...

and the steakhouse owner said,

"No, I won't fire you...

Do you see that cart?

Yes.

Yes, the one that weighs as much as a truck.

Idiot. The hump steak is yours."

Hump steak.

It's the RedeTV! of the steakhouse.

It's a piece of shit.

No one eats hump steak anymore.

Actually, no one eats meat anymore.

No one eats anymore. That's the truth.

Everybody I know is on a diet.

"I wanna lose six pounds for Instagram.

I wanna be hot." It's unbelievable.

I've been having so much fun with this diet world.

I'm using one of those car stickers: "Wanna lose some weight? Ask me how."

Everyday a fatty asks me how, and I say, "Stop eating, fatty.

Stop, fatty! You're going to die, dickhead!

Replace the dessert with a puzzle. I don't know. Just make it work.''

"Rafinha, you can't say that about me.

I went to the doctor and he said it's hard for me to lose weight."

''Sure, you eat like a pterodactyl.

You're not helping yourself.''

"Rafinha, you can't make fun of this. Obesity is a disease."

''Yes, transmitted through brownies.

Fuck you, fat ass.

Get on the fucking treadmill.''

"I'm sick, doctor. A cookie stung me!"

''Obesity is not a disease, fat ass. Wanna know what is? Syphilis.

Syphilis is.

Your balls itch so much that on the 31st day, your dick falls.

That is a disease!

Not fucking obesity.

Having soda and cookies isn't obesity. That is enjoying life.

It's quite different.''

Everyone is on a diet. Everyone.

And there are many kinds of diets. There's the Points Diet.

Wanna know how it works?

You try to make a point, "Stop eating, chubby.

Make it work. We know you'll find a way to eat.

I know you.''

The Moon Diet.

Send the fatty to the moon and say, "Eat an alien, fat ass. Eat sand.

Eat England's flag. I don't care.''

Everyone is dieting.

There's one called "Jesus Diet".

It's based on the things Jesus used to eat.

It makes you think, "Fuck, it's so hard to lose weight."

Not even Jesus did it without dieting.

The dude is able to make a blind man see, a paralytic walk,

but can't manage to lose six pounds.

"Take a walk, fatty. I can't make so many miracles."

Another thing...

It's kind of a blunder. If Jesus wanted to lose weight,

why would he multiply the loaves?

''Carbohydrates, Jesus! Stay tuned to the trendy diets.

Why don't you multiply exercise bikes?''

Everyone's dieting. Even McDonald's, dude!

I went there the other day and saw a terrifying banner,

a salad.

Fuck you, McDonald's!

I don't want a fucking salad.

When I go there, I'm making a conscious choice:

''I may die today.''

I'm going there to get crazy.

Don't rub your fucking salad on my face.

Fuck.

If I'm going there, I wanna put a burger in a syringe

and stick it in my left ball. That's what I want.

I want to...

Don't you think?

I don't want a fucking salad, I want chaos.

If I'm going to McDonald's, I want chaos. I wanna get crazy.

I want to storm into Criança Esperança and shit on Didi's foot. That's it.

You can't hold me down.

A fucking salad.

That would be amazing.

''Didi!''

And leave.

''Fuck you, Didi. Go save hell.

Slip on that shit.''

That would be fucking amazing. Didi deserves that.

Can you imagine the host singing and a guy coming in and goes...

"Didi, put your foot there."

I think I went too far on that one.

The fucking salad.

And it gets even worse. It's a combo; salad, juice and an apple.

Fuck you, McDonald's.

It's an unhappy meal.

It comes with a toy gun, so you can kill yourself.

Your life sucks.

I became an old whiner.

I came to the conclusion that I am an old grump.

I'm too old.

I'm so old that, when it comes to lighting this show,

they asked me "Where do you stay?" and I said, "Right here."

"That's enough."

"Don't you wanna walk on the stage?" "No, I'm good.

What for?

One step to the left, and one step to the right.

That's enough.''

Old.

I'm an old man.

I don't think you understand. Do you remember Jasupion?

I don't. I was already old.

I was already too old for that.

When I meet my friends, people my age, from my generation...

they always talk about the same shit.

"It was better to be a child on my time.

The kids today have no idea. They have no childhood."

Childhood was better before? Right.

Child mortality today is 0.2%.

Children back in the day used to die eating hard candy.

Hard candy.

Do you remember hard candy?

It looked like a manhole cover.

Children put it in their mouth, and it got stuck in their windpipe.

It was terrible being a child back then.

It's so much better being a child these days.

My friends say it was better

because we used to play soccer in the streets. And it's true.

A friend of mine was ran over by a Kombi.

It must be very humiliating for a family...

having a family member killed by a wheeled refrigerator.

You know?

It's so much better being a kid these days. Come on.

Back in the day, we were Spider-Man fans.

Nowadays kids use 3D and virtual reality glasses,

and feel like Spider-Man themselves. My best friend was a Spider-Man fan.

He fell from the third floor of his building, on his back.

Poor thing. He wanted to be Spider-Man and became Professor X.

Childhood!

Better before? Come on.

Back then, we had...

Damn. Nowadays kids have iPhones, iPads,

and have access to all the games and information in the world.

I was the badass back then, mastering this amazing rhyme skill,

"Yellow cock, shit in the pot."

Being a child was so boring that being silent was a game.

Fuck.

And I'm not even talking about the threats.

Kids could die. There were monsters everywhere.

We had fucking Bloody Mary. Do you remember that?

The child goes to school and dies. Why? Because he was attacked by a monster.

Bloody Mary was terrible.

It was terrible for us, students, and for her too.

Fucking shitty life, the poor girl. Think about it.

All the monsters. Vampires would attack the necks of beautiful women.

Werewolves attacked rich men in the dead of dawn.

Poor Bloody Mary had to smell other people's shit...

Yup. 24/7...

at the fucking public school. That was...

Poor girl.

Do you guys remember Bloody Mary? You had to say her name three times,

and she would climb out the toilet covered in shit.

They said she would sing "Ilariê".

No, she didn't.

Yes, there were threats. Kids could die at any time.

There were killer toys.

Do you remember the Fofão doll?

Fofão dolls could kill people.

You remember Fofão, right? If you don't remember, he was...

It was a terrible thing.

It was a mix of a dog...

with Gretchen. I don't know.

A Gretchen-dog.

That was Fofão.

The child hugged the doll, and there was a knife inside.

Then, the poor child dropped dead. That was it.

Which is the best that could happen if you bought the Fofão doll.

It's proof you make bad decisions and will have a terrible future.

Let's just end it here.

There was an even more terrifying doll;

the Mara Maravilha doll.

Look at this. The person bought the doll...

took it home, and do you know what was inside?

The Mara Maravilha doll.

That's too much.

I'm an old grump.

It's important for me to have fun right now,

and to tell this stories.

I'm experiencing a hard time in my life. A moment of transition.

I'm going through a divorce,

after a 13 years marriage.

It's over. I don't know if you have ever felt that...

You live with that person,

and no longer feel curious about that person's life.

You no longer want to be next to them, feel horny for them.

Have you ever felt this? No?

She did.

Not that I didn't want to divorce. I really did.

Ever since the moment I figured it out, pretty much 13 years ago.

But let me tell you, maybe getting dumped was

one of the best things that ever happened in my life.

Because I got what I wanted, and was able to play the victim.

Take that, boo.

If somebody asks if I'm okay, I cry and say I won't be able to survive.

I want her to feel the blame.

But there are bad things in a divorce.

It's impossible not to miss...

someone that was always by your side.

I miss my money so much.

I really do. I fucking miss it.

The split was a bit weird.

She got the penthouse and the car. I got disappointed and want her to die.

But I'm adapting.

But there's something funny. I didn't know...

that I was that famous.

Famous enough to have details about my divorce in the press.

I didn't know that. Then, I checked the website.

I even took notes to tell you guys because I was very impressed.

I opened UOL...

and the featured headline there was:

"After 13 years of marriage, Rafinha Bastos gets a divorce."

What did I think? It's the end of the world.

I'm the only survivor.

And this UOL dude writing there.

He's writing about the last human being alive... me.

There's nothing else happening.

But there was.

The second headline on that day was:

"American university may lead to the cure for cancer."

Let's re-evaluate our priorities, UOL...

But what did I think at the time? "Suck on that, cancer cure!

Wanna fight me, cancer cure?

Who do you think you are? You're not that important.''

They had a lot to say.

On the day of my divorce, I checked another website,

and there's an article I wanna go through with you.

I think it's amazing.

The headline was:

"Rafinha Bastos' divorce: Understand why."

What do these guys know that I don't, dude?

So I clicked on it.

After 15 days trying to understand why...

Maybe the website trainee figured it out. Who knows?

The whole article was amazing. They were saying...

"After Neymar and Bruna Marquezine split up..."

I'll admit I felt honored there. I'm at the top of Brazil's break-ups list.

"...another famous couple catches the little divorce train."

What?

"Rafinha Bastos and his wife Junia Carvalho..."

Let's take a look at this beautiful paragraph.

I took a ride on Neymar's break-up.

Like I'm watching TV and just thought,

"Fuck. Neymar is going through a break-up...

That gives me a great idea!

Honey, let's take this opportunity and never speak again!"

What the fuck is a little divorce train?

Little divorce train...

I hope people catch it voluntarily, otherwise it would be fucked up.

Did you hear about Nádia and Norberto?

They were going to Jabaquara and got on the wrong train.

They got down in Itaquera and never spoke again.

How does the divorce train work? "This is Fábio Júnior station."

I don't know.

It's hard to tell.

It's humiliating.

And it goes on.

"The decision didn't come from Rafinha Bastos.

After 13 years of marriage, the comedian got dumped."

Not true. I wasn't dumped.

I was asked to leave immediately,

which is quite different.

Then there's the best part.

"According to sources,

Rafinha Bastos' wife entered a satanic cult...

which did not please the comedian."

Lets take a close look into this one.

Satanic cult.

We always risk losing the one we love for someone better than us.

In my case, this someone better is the devil himself.

Which makes me the worst human being of all times.

"...which didn't please the comedian." Who the fuck would like that?

"Rafinha is such a square! He doesn't accept her!"

Who would like that?

What woman would say, "Hey, bae, I'm gonna burn that orphanage down"?

What guy would answer, "Godspeed, honey"?

They said a lot of stuff.

I don't know if you've noticed,

but theses sites have widgets that reads the news for you.

You click the button and it reads. It's for the deaf people...

Not the deaf.

That's so mean with the deaf! They click on it and "It's not helping!"

Not the deaf.

I had to ruin the joke when they were recording. Dumb fuck.

I meant it's for the blind, not the deaf.

It's for the blind.

Then...

I clicked on it and heard the guy reading.

This is much better than any analysis I could do.

You're going to listen to it with me, because this is amazing.

Please, listen.

"Rafinha Bastos is no longer married.

According to columnist, Leo Dias,

the disagreement occured after his wife, Junia Carvalho,

joined a satanic cult."

Which was proven true now.

Did you see who is reading it?

The devil himself.

The devil.

The second part is great. Listen up.

"The journalist spoke on the phone with Rafinha,

who tried to dissuade him with his humor.

He said, 'Satanic cult?

That doesn't make any sense.

If she really wanted to get closer to the devil,

she wouldn't have divorced.'"

Thank you.

This is brilliant, man.

People always talk about my lawsuits, they should be talking about this.

This is good shit.

Then, at the end of the reading,

it's proven that it really is the devil who is reading this.

It is the final proof that this comes from him.

"When asked about his future love life, Rafinha just laughed."

Who laughs like that?

Who goes to a comedy show and laughs like that...

Very funny.

Let's hear it again.

"...Rafinha just laughed."

Oh, the devil.

Oh, man!

But now...

I'm not married anymore.

I'm single.

I wanna fuck some people. It's true, let's just face it.

It's hard. Well, not really. It's kinda scary...

to have sex these days because people fuck a lot.

It's kind of scary.

When I was single, 13 years ago,

if you wanted to have sex, you had to take them out for dinner and talk.

You had to practice the most pathetic activity for a man;

dancing.

Nowadays, it's different. It's much easier.

You swipe the photo of the girl to the left,

and a vagina flies in and bites you neck.

Scary!

That Tinder thing.

Who's on Tinder here?

Just me.

Yeah, right.

Just me. That's Tinder.

You open the app and: Rafinha Bastos. "Hell, no." "Oh, yes."

Yeah, right. Just me.

So if you don't know what Tinder is,

I'll explain you lazy people what Tinder is.

Tinder is a German app. It's a German word.

It's actually a match of two words:

"Tin" which means "I accept,"

and "Der" which means "Any psychopath who gives me attention."

That's Tinder.

Tinder's MO is quite simple.

At first, you choose three photos on which you look less like a rapist.

Then you choose the distance range

in which you are willing to travel and meet someone.

Because you do wanna meet someone special.

As long as they don't live in Guarulhos.

You wanna fuck, but you don't wanna die.

You won't go that far for your dick.

Then Tinder starts offering you photos of desperate people.

It works like this. You swipe left: ''I don't wanna meet her.''

You swipe right: ''Give me AIDS.'' This is Tinder.

That's not true.

It's not.

I'll admit I was on Tinder for 40 days.

I used my photos, but not my name.

My Tinder name was...

Josinelson.

I wanted people to like me for who I am, not for what I have.

If you're called Josinelson, it's quite clear you don't have shit.

There are a few exceptions, like Joesley. But he has lost everything by now.

Joesley was the pride of all Josinelsons.

But he wasted everything.

So my Josinelson profile was very successful, and I...

I got many likes, many matches. People were craving Josinelson.

Many people said, "Wow, you look like Rafinha Bastos!"

"I would love to fuck Rafinha Bastos."

What did I do?

I changed my name to Rafinha Bastos.

From there on, I spent 40 days trying to convince people

that I really was myself.

Nobody believed me. One day I got outraged.

"You're not Rafinha!" And I said, "Fuck off!"

She replied, "Rafinha Bastos?

It's you!

I'm a fan, man!''

But here we are.

Single, playing the seduction game.

I'm old. I say things like "the seduction game".

I'm an old man.

I've fucked some people already. Thank God.

Great opportunity. This is crazy, right?

Getting laid after a marriage is completely different.

First time I did that in years. I was faithful for 13 years.

Having sex with somebody else was totally different.

First of all, the girl wanted to.

I didn't have to grovel for that to happen.

I didn't need my infallible pick-up line, "Fuck me, or I shoot! I beg you!"

Totally different.

I'm kind of in a relationship already.

I've fallen in love for the first person I met.

That's me.

I wish I could fuck anything like those dudes.

They can fuck cupboards, lamps...

They stick their dicks in any hole. I'm not like that.

I just don't wanna die alone. It's quite different.

Some people say it's despair. It's not.

I fell in love with the first girl.

And it's crazy, it's been a while since I've dated.

There are a few traps we all fall into at the beginning of any new relationship.

Every time. Like, you wanna talk about sex.

You wanna know what they've done and what they haven't.

But you know, you don't wanna hear the worst scenarios.

You don't want them to ask you, "What's the craziest thing you've done?"

"Damn. I fucked in a car.

I'm wild, dude. That's me.

I'm crazy as fuck. Out of control."

You don't wanna be that idiot. You ask her, "What about you?"

And she says, "Sixteen people came on my face once.

But congratulations on the car thing. You sure are wild.

What a crazy life you've had."

And I fell for it.

We started talking.

"What have you done before? Was it good?"

And she tells me something I'll never forget.

"Rafa, I once had sex with a guy that had a huge dick.

It was not good for me."

Fuck.

I felt insecure.

What do you mean "huge dick"?

Where am I in...

the big dick scale?

I'll never forget what she said. So cute. Such a beautiful girl.

"Listen, Rafa. You have nothing to worry about.

Your dick is perfect for me."

That would be an amazing compliment...

if only she weren't Japanese.

I don't wanna have a perfect dick for a Japanese girl.

I wanna have the perfect dick for a mother of triplets.

That's what I want.

I want an old lady...

with a saggy...

and wrinkled pussy, like a bathrobe...

I want her to tell me, "Finally, someone who fulfills me!"

That's what I wanna hear.

Got it?

"Don't worry, Rafa, you have a big cock." Sure, Japanese girl.

What merit do I have?

Having a big dick for a Japanese girl is like being the richest man of Piauí.

''I have something you don't; a donkey!

Guess who won't have to walk for three miles to get water?

It's me! Come on, lazy!

That's it.

Great merit.

Such a beautiful girl, man. I'm in love.

We're still together. Damn.

She's a police officer. Military police.

I was really fucked by the law before, it's my time to fuck the law now.

Just paying back.

She's amazing. We spent our first Christmas together.

She gave me a mug that said, "For the best boyfriend ever."

I was thrilled. So cool.

I asked my friend, "What did you girlfriend give you?"

And he said, "Her asshole."

I threw the fucking mug in the trash!

What a shitty gift! A fucking mug?

Fuck this mug.

Who wants a fucking mug? I don't even drink coffee.

It's not easy. Now let's talk seriously. Let's talk about politics, economy...

Let's talk about...

masturbation.

After being married for 13 years, I've become a specialist on the matter.

I have a few things to say. I got addicted for a while.

It got to a point where I had to refresh the Xvideos page

to get new content. That was me.

I'll tell you something that makes me confused.

Not bothered or disgusted, I just get confused.

Porn in Portuguese.

I can't focus on what I'm doing while watching porn in Portuguese.

I lose focus. I can't finish the mission I was trying to achieve.

It's amazing what they say in that porn.

It's different in English. "Fuck me, baby. Fuck me hard. Fuck me now." Done.

You can build any narrative using this three sentences.

Porn in Portuguese is always a surprise.

The girl was having sex and the guy was there...

burying his wood.

Working hard, doing his job.

"Yes, fuck me with your trowel."

What now?

Excuse me?

Trowel?

I stop, pull up my pants, open a dictionary... I've lost it.

I've totally lost focus.

I open the dictionary... Troll, trolley, trowel!

Trowel: ''A mason's spoon.''

Why?

A mason's spoon?

Why?

Who the hell says, "Fuck me with your mason's spoon"?

It makes no sense.

It's hard to stay focused.

And they ask a lot of questions on such porn.

They always ask something. The woman was fucking this dude...

This is a little heavy, but fuck it.

This is Netflix. Is not open TV. So I dont give a fuck.

Also, who watches open TV anymore? Fuck them.

They were fucking, and, out of nowhere, she goes,

"You're fucking my little asshole, right?"

The guy was in there for 20 minutes!

He was outraged.

''Fuck, man!

Yes, I am! For a while now! I'm fucking sweating here!''

"My little asshole."

She says that hoping she still has a little asshole.

She doesn't!

''Honey, if you don't know he's fucking your little asshole,

perhaps it's not so little anymore.

Maybe you got a fucking subway station in your ass.

This can't be healthy. Fix it up.''

Too many questions.

Too many. The other day, I was watching this girl fucking...

I can't help it. I always focus on these things.

She's right in there and goes,

"My pussy is really creamy, isn't it?"

Creamy?

The poor girl. She doesn't have a vagina, she has a risotto.

She was asking! "It's creamy, isn't it?" What should the poor man say?

He should get a spoon and say, "Super creamy!"

He'll go under the table. "Mmmm!"

Like on Ana Maria Braga's show.

"So creamy! You go, Louro!"

Ladies and gentlemen, thank you very much.

Keep enjoying life and fuck everything else!

Thank you! Bye!

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