All language subtitles for Nick.Di.Paolo.Another.Senseless.Killing.2015.1080p.WEBRip.x264.AAC-[YTS.MX]ENGENG

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Three, two, one.

-Ladies and gentlemen,
we are in Minneapolis,
Minnesota.

Official YIFY movies site:
YTS.MX

Lovely Minneapolis,
Minnesota.

Ladies and gentlemen,
we're here in Minneapolis,
Minnesota,

high above the ACME
Comedy Company theater

with one of my favorites,
probably my favorite
of all time.

-Nick DiPaolo.
-Thank you very much.

-Hey!
-Don't feel bad, Nick.

-Okay, I'm sorry.
-Thanks for throwing in
"probably", Tom.

That's likely.

Ladies and gentlemen,
we're high above the ACME
Comedy Company theater

where my favorite
comedian of all time,
and definitely my favorite
human being of all time,

Nick DiPaolo,
playing a sold out show,
ladies and gentlemen.
Nick DiPaolo.

Good to see you working
with Bernie Madoff.

-I, uh...

So how is
the drinking, Tom?
Are you off the blow?

Are you shooting the special,
tonight and tomorrow?

-Just tonight.
-It's sold out.

Well, I think we can
find a table for you,
or a couch.

What is it you're
using these days?

I'd go if he invited me.

-Uh, Don, I don't...
-Go fuck yourself, Nick!

I think we got
what we need.

Ladies and gentlemen,
the guy you came to see,

the one and only,
Nick DiPaolo.

Wow! Hello!

Thank you!

Minneapolis,
it's been a while.

Wow! Holy shit!

You're applauding
like you're at a taping.

What the fuck!
Hell, it's like
The Price is Right.
"Come on down."

I love this place.
Seriously, you guys.
And it's packed.

I get a little nervous
when it's this crowded.

Because, be honest,
the place holds
about 110 comfortably,
we have about 260 in here.

If there's a fire,
we're all fucked,
you realize that?

All it's going to take
is a fat chick with
a few drinks in her

and a pair of pumps
to turn her chubby ankle
on the way to the exit.

Fall down and block
us in like a fucking
human wine cork.

"Get up, Diane!
People are dying!"

"I don't give a shit.
I paid for this cheeseburger,
I'm gonna finish it on the rug."

We all end up
with third degree burns
on our face and tits.

And a year from now
we are all on an episode
of the Doctors,
missing our lips, and...

"I was at a comedy club
in Minneapolis and this
fat chick knocked over a candle
with her tits, I think it was."

"I woke up in a hospital,
by taking fat
from her calves

and putting it on my face
for a graft, and..."

It could happen.
There's a lot of fat people
in this, let's be honest.

Not here, I mean,
in general, you know,
I'm just saying, but...

Well, here, too.
You guys live on like,

fucking bacon grease
and heavy cream
from like February to June.

Are we a fat country or not?
I can't decide.

I saw, you know,
Mayor Bloomberg on
Meet the Press
a couple weeks ago,

and he's like,
"For the first time
in the history of this country,

more people are dying from
obesity than starvation."

What's your fucking point?
That's progress, asshole!

Wouldn't you rather
drop dead eating
a quarter-pounder,

or because you were
a quarter pounder?
Jesus Christ.

If that's true, more
people are dying from
obesity than starvation,

we're gonna have to change
those late night commercials,
you see, the little ones
where the...

The African kid
sitting in the desert

with a bowl of rice
in front of him,
flies all over his face.

Gonna have to replace him
with a 400-pound
Green Bay Packers fan,
sitting in his recliner

with a pile of
chicken wings on his lap,
barbecue sauce in his hair.

"For just 20 cents a day,
you can buy this fat fuck
a treadmill."

"For another 20 cents,
a head of cabbage.
He hasn't shit since
the early '70s.

It's called roughage.

Help him out.
Look at him, he's got
whipped cream on the bridge
of his nose and he's..."

I think we're a fat country,
but then I hear all these
commercials late at night

saying just the opposite.

"One in four Americans
goes to bed hungry
every night."

Why?

Stop off at the fridge
on the way to the
bedroom, shithead.

Problem solved. Duh!

If you saw a pigeon
eating half a cheeseburger,
you're bigger than he is,

step on his neck
and take it, you fucking idiot.

You're going,
you're going to bed hungry
in a country that
has so much food,

you can get hit in the chest
with a slice of pizza
from somebody else's plate
on a windy day?

What the fuck?

"One in three Americans
doesn't know where their
next meal is coming from."

Yeah, neither do I!

Might be Wendy's,
might be McDonald's,
could be Burger King.

I don't know, Tony Roma's.

Every night I sit at home,
going, "Should I go to
Wendy's or McDonald's?
I can't make up my mind!

Well, I guess I have to
go to bed hungry again, huh?"

I knew we were fat fucks
when Subway sandwich shops
had that big controversy.

People were irate
they weren't getting
a full 12-inch sandwich.

If you're bringing
a tape measure to lunch.

"What the fuck!
This is 11 and three quarters.
I wanna speak to the manager.

I'm gonna fucking
waste away to nothing
for Christ's sake."

Is this happening in
other countries, you know,
some guy in France,

"The croissant was supposed
to be 12 centimeters.
It's only 11. What the fuck!"

How did that get
so popular, Subway?
They weigh their cold cuts.

Have you ever had
a real submarine sandwich?
It's like six pounds
of meat on it.

These fucks are weighing
turkey like it's cocaine.

You look in the back
it's like a scene out of
New Jack City.

Bunch of black chicks,
no tops on, fucking...

Weighing per shoot,
fucking American cheese!

"She's got Genoa salami
under her left tit.
Lift it up."

You know where
I learnt to cook?
Fucking, that show
Lockupon MSNBC.

I know how to make
a grilled cheese
on a radiator.

Also, a buko on aluminum toilet.

I can make a white wine
out of a dirty athletic sock,
a D-cell battery
and an apple core. Fucking...

Rachael Ray thinks it's
a lot of pressure to make
a delicious meal in
under 30 minutes.

Yeah, try making
a delicious meal for
your celly, you know,

who set his mother
on fire in high school

'cause she didn't cut
the crust off his PBJ.

I love Lockup,
it's my favorite show.

I recognize lot of those people
from the New York subway system
on that show.

The shit that goes on
in the subway...
This is a nice city,
you're polite and shit.

You read the fucking stuff
that goes on New York's...

I was reading
before I came here,
on New York Post,

some homeless guy was
jerking off on the subway,
and some girl filmed it
with her cellphone.

If I've said it once,
I've said it a thousand times,
if you see a beating
taking place,

put down the camera
and help the guy.

Come on, ladies,
let's get involved
as a community.
What do you say?

That's your first instinct?
You see a guy jerking off,
and it's take out your camera?

Boy, things have changed.
You used to run and scream
when I did it back in the...

Why are you masturbating
on the subway?

If I was going to jerk off
on public transportation,
I'm not doing it on the subway.

I'd do it, like, on the ferry,
you know, it's, kinda,
it's kind of romantic, you know.

And if any of the passengers
get hit with friendly fire,
I'll blame it on the ocean mist.

How do you masturbate
when people are watching you?

When I masturbate
in my bedroom I have to
put all the family photos
face down.

Last thing I need is
my Italian grandparents,
in their late 90s,

staring at me from
a tomato garden.

Grandmother's holding
a zucchini. It's very awkward.

I leave my niece's picture up.
She's kind of cute, you know.

Oh!

Yeah.

Hey, I don't have
all day, folks. I'm busy.

If I did a nut-off
to my grandmother's ass
I'd be in there three weeks,
for Christ's sake.

Big yellow toenails.
What the fuck!

Masturbating on the subway,
that's a level of horny
I haven't got to yet.

I see girls I wanna fuck
on the subway all the time.
I don't whip it out
right there.

I have the decency to wait
till I get above ground
and duck behind a mail box on
the sidewalk on the way home.

Don't you have
to be comfortable
when you masturbate?

What am I, like, gonna get
on the train and go,

"Miss, can I use your
book bag as a pillow?
Oh, thank you.

Sir, could you hold my feet
up with your left hand
and my iPad with your right?

Hand out this plastic,
it's gonna be like
a Gallagher concert here
in about five minutes."

Jerking off in
public transportation.
What a country.

You know you got
a shitty sex life when
the first words you
hear after you come is,

"Stand clear of
the closing doors!"

Pretty sure I'll be
hearing that from
St. Peter in a few years.

What, three Catholics?
Holy shit, where am I,
fucking Palestine? Come on!

Oh, they didn't even
open the bottle.
For Christ's sake, I'm busy.

Hey, can we make
the material a little thinner,
out of the fucking
water bottles?

What are these, condoms?
They're putting water
in that? Jesus Christ!

Mmm, jizz, all right.

Uh, masturbating
on the subway.
That's just hilarious to me,
you know.

I've masturbated
in a public place
I'm not above that,
but it has to be a public place

where there's nobody around,
you know, like a Mets game.

You could jerk off on
the pitcher's mound on
opening day at Citi Field.

Nobody's gonna hear about it,
not even on the Internet.

They always blame it
on mental illness.
The guy masturbating on
the subway was mentally ill.

Well, there's mentally ill
women. I don't see them
playing with themselves
on the subway.

Somebody tell them
it's okay. What the fuck.

Imagine if girls
were doing that
on the subway, fellas?

That'd be the most packed
subway car in the history
of this city.

950 guys just crammed
in there, the doors keep
opening and shutting.

It's 80 degrees,
we all have our shirts off,
just staring at her.

She's running out of gas.
Get her a Sprite. Jesus Christ.

Guys, and if we saw
a girl playing with herself
in public we'd take out
our cellphone too, right?

But I wouldn't film her,
we'd try to get her
contact information, fucking.

She's crazy, she likes sex.
If this bitch can make
a grilled cheese,

I'll marry her. What the fuck.

What am I saying?
I did marry her, I uh...

I feel bad for you ladies
'cause you're the victim
of this male, sexual deviancy,

you know, we're sick fucks,
pulling our pricks out
in public and shit.

And you're taking
advice from guys
on how to avoid this stuff.

This was on
New York Timesthis summer,
you can Google this.

There's a professor at
the University of Colorado,
a male professor

telling young girls
in his class, "To keep
a guy from raping you,

you should either
urinate or vomit
in front of him."

First of all, if I'm a girl
in that class I'm gonna
raise my hand and go,

"You know this how?"

Urinate or vomit to
scare off a rapist?

That might work unless
the guy fucked a bunch
of drunk chicks in college.

Every girl I fucked
in my 20s was puking
and pissing herself.
She was shit-faced.

That's how I knew
I was gonna get laid.

"No" meant "no",
and
"I don't feel good",
meant, "yes."

And how are you girls
gonna piss and vomit
on demand?
That's my question.

What are you, gonna
load up on bad pork
and iced tea before
running in Central Park?

"Take off your pants, bitch."
"Not tonight."

Oh, thank God for those
Amtrak clams, I'll tell you.

Here comes the chicken parm
from Applebee's.

What if you're a nice
Jewish girl and you're
fasting that day?

You're all...
"Hold on.

Oh, go ahead."

"It's been a while.

Fuck it."

And I'm not making
fun of rape, ladies.
Nothing funny about rape.

Unless it's happening
to a rapist in a prison shower.
Then it's fucking hilarious.

Girls, you want
to keep a guy from
having sex with you,

when he's taking his
pants off, just look
him in the eye and go,
"I love you."

"What are you thinking?

Do you like children?"

Not everything is rape, either.
We're always try...

Here's something
that's not rape,
I'm sick of hearing about.

When a hot female
school teacher,
like, in her 20s,

fucks a 14 year old boy student.

It's not fucking rape.
That is a fantasy for
all us fellows.

Okay? That's a rite of passage.
You can bang his brains out,
he'll be just fine.

Trust me. Fuck him.
Fuck him hard!
Fuck him long!

People go, "That's not true.
That kid's life will
never be the same."

Yeah, you got that right.
He won't be able to go
to the mall without signing
300 autographs on Friday.

He's going to get a big head
when they're building a statue
of him in front of the gym
on Wednesday, fucking...

Statue of the teacher
bent over with an apple
in her mouth.

Fucking Brian's behind
with the condoms. "Hey!"

Yeah, you're always
the victim of this shit.
I feel bad for you.

I hear about
this all the time.
I hear about women
meeting guys on the Internet,

then the guys kill 'em
like a week later.

Yeah, that's...
Ladies, that one's
kind of on you.

You're picking guys
up on the Internet?
You know that's
a highway, don't you?

Why don't you just get
on 95 South at three
in the morning in the Bronx,

with a hundred dollar
bill hanging out of
your ass crack,

holding a sign
that says, "Got pussy?"

"Got pussy? Nothing? All right."

Naive girls, I can see
them trying to meet guys
on the Internet on match.com.

"Oh, look at this guy,
he likes hiking..."

Yeah, translation,
he's gonna rape and kill you
in the woods.

"He's into sunsets.",
he's gonna do it after dark.

"Oh, he's into fashion.",
yeah, he's gonna make
a suit out of your skin

and wear it around the house
for the next three weeks.

"Oh, he likes to cook.",
yeah, he's gonna make
a casserole out of your
tits and feet.

Have you had
the tits and feet casserole?

It's delicious,
by Rachel Ray,
recipe, about 40 minutes.

Tits and feet.
It's one word, German.
Titsandfeet!

Thank you, lady.
Don't hold it in.

That's, um..

Jesus. That's...
That's hot to me,
I'm fucking, you know.

I'm doing a joke about
a girl being murdered by
some guy on the Internet.

She's giggling like
I'm tickling her feet.

That is making me
hard as a whale's tooth.
Keep that up, sweetheart.

Holy shit, this is psycho.

I'm staying at
the Town Plaza Suites,
whatever the fuck they call it,
that's, uh...

Me and you'll be
in the pool, 11 degrees,

but seems like
you can take it.
I've seen...

This lady hasn't smiled.
Fucking thanks for bringing
her to the show, fella.

No, the girl next to you.

"You know, Barbara
hasn't taken a good shit
in two weeks. Let's take
her to the comedy club,

and let her stare at
the headliner,
try to ruin his night."

You look like my
grandmother in that picture.

I don't blame you.
I have a dark
sense of humor, okay?

I really do,
I get it from my dad.
My dad laughs at
the inappropriate shit.

Always did, even as kids,
I remember at McDonald's,
he'd pile us into
the station wagon,

five of us on a Friday night,
that was the big treat.

This, like, 80 year old lady
comes out of McDonald's
with, like, a tray,

and she slips on some ice,
and lands on her ass.

My father was laughing
till he almost shit his pants.

And we all just joined in,
we're pointing at her,
laughing out the window.

"Oh, look at the mean family,
laughing at that dead lady."

She's got like a bone
sticking out of her nylons,
my father's wiping his eyes.

"Holy shit, I've never
seen anything that funny
in my life."

But then he fucked it up.
He went and helped her up
and shit. What an asshole.

He loves dark shit.
This is a true story.
I'm at my parents
house like 15 years ago.

I'm in the kitchen
making a sandwich.

The, the old man's
in the living room,
and I hear him belly laughing,
he's watching TV.

I mean, he's laughing
like Robert De Niro in Cape Fear
in the movie theater.

My dad...

I stick my head in and see
what he's watching.
Lady Di's funeral.

He wasn't laughing that
she got killed, but apparently
one of the horses

that was pulling her casket
was shitting in the street.

And that fucking
set him off.

And that's funny when
you put it all together,
a beautiful princess
who had a great life,

now she's dead
with a palomino shitting
an inch from her nose.

Come on, that's
fucking hilarious.
If you don't laugh at that,
you're missing the point.

Funeral's on TV,
I hate public grieving.

Good example of that
is the roadside
makeshift memorials.

Do you guys have
those out here?

It's the most tacky
fucking thing to me.

If I die in a highway,
and the best my friends
can do is make a cross

out of two old
street hockey sticks,

tie a 12 cent balloon to it.
"Oh, thanks for the effort,
shitheads, I mean..."

There's always
that stuffed animal
covered in bird shit.

A teddy bear on the reign,
oh, that's gonna cheer up
the DiPaolo family,
huh, fucking...

It's like, I just don't fucking
understand this.
Things are getting
pretty elaborate, too.

I saw one near my house
on the Sawmill Park.
It was a pinata hanging
out of a maple tree.

Apparently, a van full
of illegals tipped over,
on that thought, uh?

Do you ever see anybody, uh...

Do you ever see anybody
building these memorials?
I don't.

Who? The little fucking ninjas
run out at three in
the morning, and...

Plywood and nail gun,
and fucking a welder's mask.

And they're really creative.
They can make a cross
out of anything.

I don't remember
reading the Bible
with Jesus being nailed
to a PVC pipe, you know.

Do you ever see one
that's like 60 yards
off the road?

You're like,
"How the fuck did he
get killed over there?"

What did you do,
chase a deer into the woods
in your Cadillac, you asshole?"

If my friends build me
one of those memorials,
it better represent the shit
that I loved, and that I hated.

First of all, the cross
should be 15 feet high
and made of pizza crust

with a pair of fake tits on top,

and a picture of Oprah
with a knife in her forehead.

My liberal friends will
be like, "Oh, he's kind of
right-wingish. Should we
light this on fire?"

Go ahead, I like
a burnt crust. Fuck it.

I'm always thinking about death.
Let's stay on that topic,
I enjoy it.

Let's talk about
suicide, all right?
'Cause that's been on
my mind for about 10 years.

I've been married about 11.

I love suicide stories.

I really do.
I don't have the balls to do it,
and it fascinates me.

Lot of people commit suicide,
that's all right, but then
you read of lot of people
do it by hanging.

When you read that,
do you ask yourself
the same question as me?

"How come so many people
know how to tie nooses?"

What the fuck!
You all had a severe depression
in Eagle Scouts? Jesus...

I don't know how to tie a noose.
I've seen every Western
ever made. The fuck...

My buddy goes,
"Ah, well, you can
Google that shit."

"Oh, yeah,
that's what I want to do.
I'm thinking about
killing myself.

I'm gonna spend the last hour
on this planet trying to reboot

my piece of shit laptop,
which is the reason
I'm killing myself
in the first place."

What happens when
you Google something?

You end up going
on a little web journey
you don't mean to take.

You start off with,
"How to tie a noose?",
then, it's, "How to
tie a necktie?"

Like, "Yeah, this
is pretty interesting."
Fucking...

20 hours later,
you're still reading.
"Holy shit,
this is fascinating."

Wife finds me in the basement,
hanging, nice Windsor Knot

I picture my wife walking in
and seeing like 100
unsuccessful nooses
all over the floor.

Big silly bows and shit.

"He tried a slipknot.
What a fucking asshole!

No wonder why
his neck is red.
He must've been up there
for fucking two hours.

It's a slipknot
for Christ's sake!"

I'm a comedian,
I'll probably try to
hang myself on the road
in a cheap motel.

It won't work.
The fucking beam'll break,

and the next morning
I'm the only guy with
a piece of rope

around his neck at
the continental breakfast,
you know.

"Ooh, sausages. Hmm."

"Fucking eggs are
a little dry, huh."

Why hanging?
It doesn't always work!

If you don't do it right
you look like an asshole.

Your friends find you,
you're in the bedroom
hanging, kicking your feet,

with a shit in your pants,
half laughing, half crying.

They start spinning you
around like The Elephant Man.

Don't do that.
Pick something that's
100 percent full-proof,
you know.

I mean, drink a bottle
of vodka, take 100 Vicodin,
rent a Maserati.

See what it can do.

Hang out with
Paris Hilton for the weekend
then lick your fingers,
you know what I mean?

Do something...

Tell your wife
she looks fat when
she's having her period.

You'll be dead in six seconds.

"Suicide by tampon",
I call that one, fucking.

"You're a bloated mess."

They call people who
commit suicide cowards.

That's the cowardly way out.
Who came up with that?
What a bunch of horseshit.

Do you believe that?
I don't believe that.

Everybody in this room
at one point in your life,
has had these words,

"I'm gonna fucking
kill myself right now!"

But you didn't do it.
You know why?
'Cause you're a pussy.

And you know who
the biggest pussies are?
The people that
believe in heaven.

You know, the guy
at the funeral going,
"Oh, that guy's in
a better place now."

"What are you waiting for?"

I mean, if you
believe that shit,
why are you still here?

You should be packing.
What the...

That's like,
"Oh, we have a house
for you in Honolulu."

"No, I want to stay
in Buffalo. I like Buffalo.

I wanna work
at the mattress factory
80 hours a week,

and fuck my fat wife
and my 11 kids.
You know, I'm fine, yeah."

But we wanna go in our sleep,
'cause you don't know
it happens.

I think the next best thing
to that is being whacked.

Because it's like
going in your sleep.
You've seen mob movies, right?

Mobsters, what do they do
when they get whacked?
They're always having
a good time,

they're around their friends.

That's how it should go
with your family.
You're at a cookout.

"Oh, corn on the cob!"
Your niece sticks
an ice pick in your neck.

"A little further, Heather.
He's still moving.
A little bit further."

Then they play corn
all over my body
for the next two hours.

"Yeah, we'll bury him later.
That guy was sucking us dry,
financially, wasn't he?"

I'm a negative guy, you know.

Very negative.

I got a buddy who's
Mr. Positive. He's reading
a book right now called
Creative Visualization.

Do you know what that is?

It's this method where you
visualize something enough
it'll actually happen for you.
Shit doesn't work.

If that worked I wouldn't
be here right now.

I'd be in Jennifer Aniston's
bathroom, pulling one of her
pubes out of my eye teeth.

While she's laying on
her bed, diddling herself
to my Comedy Central
Presentsspecial.

I've been fantasizing
about that for 12 years.
Nothing.

Every time I'd open
my eyes in my own shower
with a fistful of PRELF,

and crying like a baby,
yelling, "Rachel!"
and my wife comes in.

It's true, this is all true.

I don't believe in that
mind-body connection.
It's a bunch of horseshit.

They're two separate entities,
they have nothing to
fucking do with each other.

And apparently I'm right,
'cause I read in
the New England Medical Journal

this psychologist did
a study of cancer patients
over a 10 year period.

Nice sample, by the way.

And he fuck...
This is the conclusion
he came to, people who
were dying of cancer

and have a positive attitude
live no longer than ones
who have a negative attitude.

Don't you love
that fucking story?

It's true.
What do you think,
cancer crawls up your ass,
gets into your bloodstream,

races to your brain, and goes,
"Is that a smile on his face?

We better get the fuck
out of here."

That's not what cancer does.
Cancer goes, "Is that
a smile on his face?

He's mocking us.
Let's meet at his liver
on Sunday. Fuck him!"

Only one person has beat
a fatal disease
with his positive attitude.

Okay? And that was
Magic Johnson.

And that doesn't count.
His first name's Magic
for Christ's sake.

Magic had diagnosed
HIV positive,

goes on to put on
50 pounds of pure muscle
over the next 20 years.

The hell am I doing P90x for?
I could just blow a male
figure-skater and be in
great shape in three weeks.

See, that joke never
works in New York.
I love Minneapolis.

God bless you.
You're a nice blend
of progressive and psycho.
I like that.

Stay right where you are,
I fucking love you.

Negative guy...
I have a caffeine problem.
Just found that out.

I mean, I'm almost
allergic to caffeine.
I was laying in bed
the other night thinking,

"How come I've been like in
12 fistfights before noon time
over the last 20 years?"

I'm like hyper-allergic...
You guys have a couple
cups of coffee, you get
a little jittery?

It's like bath salts for me.
I'll chew your fucking
face off and leave you
in the street.

I go to Dunkin' Donuts,
an hour later I'm naked
in my driveway,
wrestling three cops, fucking...

They're tasering my balls.
"What's he, on angel dust?"

"No, I had a cappuccino
with three sugars.

Get back in your car,
or I'll chew fucking
your nose off."

But I get really nasty
as opposed to my natural state.

I've had some of
the worst fights with
my wife when I was
jacked upon coffee.

Last January, true story.
It's a Sunday morning, my wife
comes down the stairs.
She goes,

"My nieces and nephews
are coming over,
we're going to a petting zoo,
and you're coming with us."

And I'm like,
"I've been following
The Patriots for 16 weeks.

Today's the first playoff game,

but yeah, what better time
to look at a goat laying
in his own shit up in
the woods?"

Cut to me, like,
half hour later, I'm in a barn
and I'm looking at animals.

I have like a pot
of coffee in my gut.
I'm crawling out of my skin.

This guy next to me
goes to me, in the most
condescending tone, he goes,
"That's a yak."

I go, "Yeah, I know
it's a fucking yak.
There's a sign on the cage.
I know how to read, asshole."

And then I realized
he was talking to his
four year old son on
the other side of him.

Is that not a classic caffeine?

How do you get
out of that one?

I just stayed in
the asshole role, went to
the next cage and there
was a goat in there.

I just looked at him
and I went, "Let me guess,
duck, what is that, a pigeon?

Come on, Dr. Seuss,
you know fucking everything.
What is that, an alligator?

I don't know anything!
Right, asshole?"

Even his little kid
was looking at me, like,
"Who pissed in your
Cheerios, Mister?"

I'm like, "Fuck you,
you little pussy!"
I threw a pumpkin at him

and my wife pushed me
out of the park but...

Another caffeine story,
this was about a month
and a half later,

I'm at White Plains Airport,
sitting next to this obese guy,
for like, two hours,
ignoring his smell.

Hadn't said a word
to each other.
All of a sudden he gets up,

he looks at me,
in this tone of voice,
he goes, "I'm going to
the shitter, watch my bag."

I'm like, "How do I know
your bag's not gonna
explode in 30 seconds?"

He goes, "Do I look
like a terrorist?"
I go, "That depends."
He goes, "Depends on what?"

I go, "If I was a cheeseburger."

"If I was a fresh garden salad
I'd feel very comfortable
watching your bag
for the next 20 minutes,

or a pack of Sweet'N Low,

but you like butter,
let's be honest."

Can't help it.
Little nasty.

My wife's nasty,
so I fell in love with her.
She's got an acid tongue.

I'm serious.
I love the wife,

but it's not her fault,
she snores like a wild
animal, number one.

She's 5',5",
108 pounds soaking wet.

When she snores
she sounds like Precious
with a sinus infection.

It's a real deceptive snore.
It's like...

It's like trying to
take a nap next to
a cappuccino machine, you know.

Can I get more foam
with this one?

I don't know what to do.
It's the middle of the night.
I'm fucking pinching her nose,

I'm standing
on her throat with
my Timberlands.

I'm sleeping in
other women's beds,
nothing is helping.

I'm fucking my neighbor,
I can hear my wife
snoring from my house.
I mean, Jesus Christ!

One night she was so loud
I looked up her nose
with a penlight.

I thought I was gonna see
50 illegals, playing kazoos,
you know, fucking.

"Why it got to be illegal?"
"Who else is gonna
do that kind of work
for eight bucks?" Fucking.

It's very unattractive
when a woman snores.

It's fun when
you're in your 20s,
you're in college,
you pick up a fat chick.

She's got labored
breathing anyways,
you ply her with
fucking Heinekens,

and she passes out,
and she's snorting away.
You're like,
"Oh, that's adorable.

She's dreaming that
she's digging for truffles
in Italy, somewhere."

Then you make her
a 12 pound omelet,
and kick her out of
the apartment. "You get the..."

Oh.

My wife has a mean
sense of humor, this is
what attracted me to her.

I remember,
we'd get in a fight...

Before we were married,
we're fighting, and I'm trying
to think of the meanest
thing I could say to my wife,

and I go, "All you broads
look the same naked,
from the waist down."

She goes, "Yeah, too bad
all you guys don't."

"Where the fuck
did that come from?"

I cried on the couch
for like a week and a half,
I couldn't...

I was going through this
mental Rolodex of all
the guys that she's fucked.

"Shawn, that little pudgy
guys got a big dick?
How is that possible, fucking?

"Kevin?"

Boy, did that one get me. Oof!

Couple of months ago,
I'm down in my man cave,
watching Saving Private Ryan.

And that movie gets
to me a little bit,
I'm a little
jingoistic like that.

I go misty-eyed
at the end of the movie.
My wife comes busting in,
unannounced,

she goes, "Are you crying?"

I'm like,
"No, fucking allergies.

Why don't you try
dusting this shit hole
once every 10 years?"

And without missing a beat,
she goes, "Really, what are you
allergic to, being a pussy?"

Fucking slams the door
and leaves. I'm fucking,
"What the fuck.
Where did that come from?

This girl's brilliant.
I have to marry this bitch."

Gotta admit, that's
pretty goddamn quick
on her feet.

I live in the suburbs
in New York, I drive into
the city every night for
the last 12 years to tell jokes.

Every night for the last
12 years, I'm leaving
the house, she goes,
"I love you."

Finally, last week I go,
"Why do you have to fucking
say that every night?"

She goes,
"Because something
could happen to you."

"But I'm getting the impression
you want something
to fucking happen to me."

Might be pitching a no-hitter.
She'd be the player that
comes up to you on your team

in the eighth inning,
"You're pitching
a no-hitter, you know?"

"I'm saying that out of love."
Fuck you!

"I love you, I love you."
I go, "You know what,
you say something
over and over again,

people become desensitized
to it. Doesn't mean anything."

Like the N-word,
you hear it in every rap song.
It doesn't mean anything.
It's not that shocking anymore.

I tell my wife that.
I'm leaving the house
the other night,

she looks me in the eye
and instead of saying,
"I love you",
she goes, "You my nigger."

I'm like,
"You're my nigger, too."

She's about that tall.
Right there maybe.

Guys, can wives get you
more angry than anybody
on the face of the...

She knows how to push my
buttons... Here's the one
that she does that
makes me go fucking crazy.

Without coffee,
I get up, milk in me,
I go to the shit house.

We'd be arguing,
she would go like,
"Why are you yelling?"

"Uh, 'cause I can't hit you."

Yeah.

I'm in a fight,
I can't raise my hands to you,
now, I can't raise my voice?

Who the fuck did you marry,
Stephen Hawking? Jesus Christ!

She's nuts. I have a gun,
she doesn't know it
and I won't tell her,

'cause I don't want her
to find it and, you know,
use it on me when she's
having her period,

I say something wrong
during Jeopardy...

"Alex didn't finish
the question!"

So she doesn't know
I have a gun.
This is what she
does to protect us,

she hides steak knives
all over the house.
Behind photos, and shit.

I wanted to cut my steak,
I had to climb a bookshelf
for like seven minutes
the other night.

Is that insane?
Fucking knives? How's that
gonna help if somebody...

Who's breaking in?
Somebody from
West Side Story?

"911, what's your emergency?"

"Yeah, I have two Jets
and a couple of Sharks
on the front lawn
trying to get into my house,

and my girlfriend
Maria's missing."

Is she in that?
I saw it a long time ago.
I'm not like a... Fucking...

We got in a doozy.

It's the best fight
we had in a long time,
like a month ago.

I told her I thought
she should bleach
her asshole.

She agreed and threw
a cup of Clorox in my face.

Yeah, fuck you, too. I...

That gets a round
of applause every night.
I don't appreciate.

It's the cleverness
of the joke. I know
why you're applauding, I know.

Asshole bleach,
I didn't know
anything about it.

I Googled it,
now I see why
she got pissed.

I thought you girls
just bleaching, like,
the hairs of your ass crack.

You're actually bleaching
the anus, the skin itself.

My wife goes,
"Yeah, because it's discolored."

Well, yeah,
you've been shitting
out of it for 42 years.

Did you ever see
a coffee filter after 50 pots?

Bleaching your asshole
is actually racist, you know?

"Oh, I have black skin
on me, gross. Let me
get rid of that.

Oh, it's black
and brown. Holy shit!

That is gross."

I hope guys
don't start doing this.

Last thing I need is
my wife to kick
the bathroom door,

and I'm squatting
over her makeup mirror
with a bottle of Wite-Out.

"Honey, what are you doing?"
"I'm fixing the letter O.
What's it look like?
Shut the door.

Where are the Crest
Whitening Strips?
Give me a Tide stick.

Can I shout this out?
Help me here!
Don't just stand there
for Christ's sake!"

How embarrassing.

Anything? Nothing?

She's laughing.
She's a reserved,
nice proper lady,

and I'm doing
horseshit up here.
I don't blame her, but...

So I Googled the history
of asshole bleaching.

Didn't know this stuff.
Fascinates me.
Started with female
porn stars, makes sense.

They're doing anal on-screen.
Maybe my wife's got a hobby
I don't know about, but...

They're doing anal on-screen,
and then mainstream
Hollywood actresses started
bleaching their assholes.

They said it was
because there was more
nudity in their films now.

Is that... What a fucking
crock of shit that?

Anybody remember seeing
Meryl Streep's asshole
in The Iron Lady?

"Fuck you, Nixon.
Look at that!"

Gwyneth Paltrow,
Dumb and Dumber To.

And the second reason
girl's started bleaching
their anuses is

they were embarrassed
that their anus skin tone
didn't match the rest
of their skin tone.

What? I understand
if your bag doesn't
match your shoes.

I don't even
understand that
to be honest with you, but...

But you're bleaching your
asshole for your husband
who's about to fuck you,

and he's wearing two
different colored socks.
I mean...

Who gives a shit?

"I wanna get this
right for Bill. Yeah"

Don't...

Bleaching up the asshole.
Some of you just laugh,

some of you are
a little uncomfortable,
I can see it in your eyes.

Like, "Let's change
the subject, huh."

I wanna talk about
vaginal rejuvenation
for a few minutes.

It's closely related to
asshole bleaching,
geographically.

It's right next door.
It's like Saint Paul
and Minneapolis.

Come on, I just
came up with that.
That was a gem.

-Thank you.

I'm on a groove tonight.
This is going on TV,
I don't give a shit.

Vaginal rejuvenation,
that was right after
the asshole bleaching article.

I, I couldn't pull myself
from the computer.
It was fascinating.

I had never heard
of vaginal rejuvenation,
and it's just...

I mean, ladies,
you gotta be excited
about this.

I Google it, the definition...
It's a botox-like
procedure for the vagina.

That's how bad I'm in bed.
My wife's vagina is
developing laugh lines,
apparently.

It's a face-lift for the vagina.

They say it's like
going to a plastic surgeon.
What if it is like going
to a plastic surgeon.

Does he come out with
a book of his work,
before and after photos,
like, Madonna's pussy?

"Looks like somebody put
an M-80 in a frog's mouth."

"That's the before?"

You're like, "I thought
that was a blooming onion!"
"No, that's Madge's vag."
"Are you serious?

Looks like an ultimate
fighter's earlobes.
Holy Christ!"

"Oh, a lot of black cock,
that's what it'll do to you.
Look at that. It's a mess."

It's cosmetic.
They have a thousand
cosmetic things they
do for the vagina.

Girls have labiaplasty,
girls think their
lips are too big.

How many vaginas
you think us fellows
have seen?

Some guy's gonna
pull down your panties,
and go, "That thing is
huge. I'm out of here.

Jesus, put an icepack
on that, what...

You grow up next to
a radiation plant?
Jesus Christ!"

"Looks like a shiitake,
goddamn it!"

Don't reduce your lips.
I don't give a shit if it
looks like Garry Shandling
whistling at me,

leave 'em alone.
Your vaginas are
perfect, seriously.

Don't buy this shit.

You're having
your lips reduced?
Where do you do that?

You go down to the deli,
they have a seat for
you to sit in.

"Can I get a pound of prosciutto
while I'm up in the chair?"
"Sure."

I love the vagina
just the way it is.

My college girlfriend
had a lopsided vagina.
Her mouth... Her...

Lips looked like
Bill Murray's mouth
in Caddyshack.

"He's at the 14th hole,
and he's got about
a five iron.

A pond or a pool
would be good."

Apparently, the vagina
over the years gets sad
and droopy-looking.

And it makes sense.
You shouldn't be...

I mean, it takes a pounding,
when you think about it.

Between sex and babies.

When you're having sex,
if you're doing it right
it's kind of rough.

That's why when you
talk about sex, you go,
"I banged this chick
the other night."

You don't go, "I gently
pushed this chick
the other night."

So it makes sense.
The vagina starts to
look like Sylvester Stallone
after 20 years.

"Cut me, Mick.
Cut me, cut me."

"I don't wanna cut you, Rocky,
That's your pussy.

Yeah, that ain't lightning,
you're gonna crap thunder
out of that thing.
Leave it alone."

That's a good Mickey,
ain't it? I'll do it for you.
"Yeah, pussy, I love it.
It's perfect!

Looks like the vegetation
on my ear."

Leave the vaginas alone.

All kinds of shit.
They can replace
your hymen.
Did you know that?

Yeah, they can
replace your hymen.
Guys, you know
what a hymen is?

It's not the Jewish guy
from The Godfather.

Fellas, the hymen is
a thing that breaks
when you fuck a virgin.

I'm not talking
about the law, okay? It's...

But it's a trick.
They don't replace
your hymen.

You know what they do?
It's a cheap trick.

They put a blood capsule
in one of your membranes
inside your vagina.

That's the same thing
WWE wrestlers use,
for Christ's sake!

Am I deflowering a chick
or punching Triple H
in the face? What the fuck!

The whole thing is
deceiving, man.
It's kind of evil.

Here's the rejuvenation part,
they can tighten
the vagina later on.

You should be excited
about that, ladies. Come on.

You could be the biggest
whore for the first 30 years
of your life, fuck the NBA
West, East and South,

and still have the pussy
of a girl scout
when you're 76.

They tighten the vagina.
And you're deceiving men
when you're doing that.

It's like rolling back
the odometer on a used car.

You're dating a girl
for a couple of months,
she's like, "I've only been
with four guys my whole life."

"Oh, really?
Let me see the snatch facts."

"Let's see who
those four guys are, huh.

Terrell Suggs,
Kevin Garnett,
Shaquille O'Neal.

And Huey Lewis. What?"

Apparently, he's got a huge cock
for a white guy, I had to...

That's what he told me
when I was leaving
his hotel at three in
the morning, but listen...

I went back the next night.

It's not fair,
tightening the vagina later on.

One night you were the girl
who was like a clown car.
You can fit 60 guys in there.

Next night it's like
trying on O.J.'s glove.

"What did you do,
leave this thing
out in the rain?

What happened?
It shrunk like three sizes.

I can't even get in there."

You gotta respect
the vagina, you really do.

I mean,
the Michael Douglas story
this summer, anybody?

Fellows, did that one...
Yeah, is that in your memory
for the rest of your life?

Relax, I don't need a...
It's a rhetorical question.
Relax. Sip again.

"Terrible! It's terrible!"

It was, it scared
the shit out of me.

The some of you who forgot,
you know, he said
he got throat cancer

before he performed
oral sex on a woman
with HPV, which is...

That's nice, huh,
you get throat cancer
from performing
cunnilingus, fellas?

Nice to know you
go down on your
woman for 10 minutes,

it's the equivalent
of handling asbestos
for 35 years.

I just kissed
my wife down there,
I got mesothelioma.

My wife's like,
"How come you don't
do that to me anymore?"

I'm like, "'Cause I don't
wanna sound like Jack Klugman
for the rest of my
goddamn life.

I mean, I loved that
story when it came out,
'cause I'm a smoker.

I stand on the sidewalk
in New York, people always
come up, "That shit'll
give you throat cancer."

And now I have a comeback.
I'm like, "Yeah, so will
cunnilingus, I'll quit
when you do.", you know.

Although, if I had
to choose between
cigarettes and a vagina,
I'm taking the vagina.

I'm taking the camel toes
over the Camel Lights.
You know what I'm saying?

I used to smoke
cigarettes after I ate pussy.

I'm a dead man
walking, apparently.

"It's Menthol? Good.
I got to freshen up."

Let's be honest.

Cigarettes and pussy
have a lot in common
when you think about it, right?

And they both give you
bad breath.

They both give you
throat cancer,
and if you don't dispose
of them properly,

they'll burn down your house.

That's a lot of power
to give a woman.

You can give,
you can give a guy cancer,
that you don't like.

He's like, slowly going,
"Yeah, go ahead
down there, Timmy,

enjoy yourself for
the next 20 minutes, yeah.

Chomp away."

You're killing a guy.

I mean, we give you a little,
you know, virus, you piss,
it burns a little bit.

You take our voice box?
What the fuck is going on?

Throat cancer from
oral sex with a woman?

I can't wait to see
those PSA commercials
during the Yankee games
in a couple of years.

"Hello, I'm Derek Jr."

"You know kids,
I never touched a bottle.
But I ate a lot of pussy,
I'll tell you that.

I was the show stopper
for the Yankees,
for Christ's sake!

And good looking was
coming at me like
apple pie and ice cream.

And I ate every bit of it
and I'd do it again.

Now I sound like
my idol, Babe Ruth."

They're gonna be bringing
all the famous guys
for those commercial.

"Hello, I'm Mick Jagger.

I wonder why the milk
tastes like brown sugar."

"Hello, I'm Ellen DeGeneres."

"I ate more pussy
than those guys combined."

Thank you, Minneapolis.

You know, guys,
you can just call
your old girlfriends,

"Hey, Janice? Yeah, it's Rick.

When's the last time
you had a fucking checkup?"

You're so polite, seriously.
I mean, I haven't seen
a cell phone tonight.
God bless you for that.

Every comedy club now
is a nightmare with these
generation Facebook douchebags.

I fucking hate those
goddamn fucking things.

I hope they cause cancer,
those phones.

I think they do.
I think the phones do,
the iPads, your computers,

that's all fucking giving
you cancer, you know.

And my friends go,
"That's bullshit."

"Really? How'd Steve Jobs die?
Was it dandruff?"
You know what I'm talking...

Yeah. Who spent more time
around that shit than he did?

Guy couldn't even hold up
his last invention.
It was a pound iPad.

"Can somebody help me out.
I got a pound and a half...
Come on!

Get it up there. Ah."

Apple a day, my ass, fucking.

People get bummed when
I make fun of Steve Jobs.

Oh, yeah, get bummed out.
He's the reason your niece
is texting a pedophile
right now, fucking.

They're both watching
Felicitytogether.
Whatever, fucking.

I'm not a big technology guy.
Look, I'm in the middle.
You know, you guys.

I'm like 51, you kind of
get caught on the ass end,
you gotta keep up with it
or you look like a jerk off.

But it has perfected one thing,
pornography, let's be honest.

Oh, my...
It's never been better.
Oh, my God.

And you guys in your 20s,
you're so spoiled.
You don't even know
what bad porn is.

You have no fucking idea.

You have high definition porn,
interactive,
clit.org/nipples@...

I'm 51 years old.
You know what's the first
thing I masturbated to?

And this is honest to god
truth. The Indian on
the Land O'Lakes butter box.

That's true! Not even
a real Indian, not even Cher.

A fucking cardboard Indian,
that's how old I am.

And there was
a trick you could do.
Some of you guys know this.

She's kneeling down on
her bare legs. If you
fold her knees up,
they become her tits.

My dad showed me that
on my eighth birthday,
he's a terrific guy.

That's true, I was in love
with that little Indian bitch.
Loved her.

Looking back on it,
I was pretty talented,
masturbating with my left hand,
doing origami with my right.

Land O'Lakes
was a self-contained
masturbation kit.

You had the Indian
for the visual,
the butter for the lube.

The wrapper for the clean up.
I mean, Jesus!

I was, I had a crush on
that little fucking...

Then I come home one day
and my mother
switches to margarine.

Thanks to my dad's
high cholesterol I had
blue balls for 14 months.

Only way I could see
that little Indian girl
was to go to the supermarket.

That was kind of awkward.

"Clean up in aisle 7,
the Italian kid is here again
in the tight shorts.

He's getting his stuff
all over the Triscuit.
Somebody get a mop
for Christ's sake."

Fucking loved her.
And then my mother
goes to Blue Bonnet.

You ever try to get
a nut-off to a girl
wearing a hat?
It's fucking impossible.

It's like I'm
fucking an Amish baby.
This is a turn-off.

Then she went to Country Crock.

What am I gonna
do with a rooster
on a barn? Fucking...

There's gotta be a sheep
in the barn somewhere,
but I don't have that much time.
Jesus Christ.

Yeah, I'm giving you
the evolution of my porn.

Started with
the Land O'Lakes butter box.

And then we graduated
to the cover of
National Geographic,
right fellas...

That was our first
Playboycenterfold.
Big black, beautiful tits.

Complete nipples
and everything.
First time you saw
the whole tit,

it was just tremendous.

You could get a nut-off
to National Geographic,
then read about irrigation
for three hours. Fucking...

Talk about a deep sleep.
Holy shit, it's like 50 Ambien.

That's what made me
like black chicks.
Just fucking still turned on
by that shit.

But that was our
Playboycenterfold.
It wasn't as nice as
the Playboycenterfold

with girls in there, you know,
on a bed, spread eagle

as opposed to my girl
being chased by an eagle
through the woods and...

They're always carrying wood
back to the village
and trying to distract you
in the end but...

I thought they should've
treated those girls like
Playboycenterfolds.

They should've done
a little profile on them.
Turn-ons and turn-offs.

Turn-ons, slow gazelles,

indoor plumbing, lip plates.

Turn-offs, arrogant chiefs,
malaria, dysentery.

So yeah, so then
it was VHS porn,
in which the girls
are just horrendous.

I mean, just... You guys,
the girls are like 17,
they're in shape,
they're cheerleaders.

Back in the 70s, there were
just, like, housewives,

they decided to
blow their husband when
they're eating a cheeseburger.

"Come on, Frank,
let's get that over here."

She's flabby and gross and...

None of them
shaved down there.
No trimming.

Just giant muffs.

I'm like, "Is this porn
or an ABA All-Star Game?
What am I watching?"

Is that a pussy or did
Dr. J just dunk on somebody?
I can't tell what...

Just disgusting.

But the Internet
perfected all that.
It's so good now.

My favorite part
of the Internet is going
to the political articles.

The controversial ones,
the racial ones, and...
Then going to the comments
section afterwards.

There is a civil conversation
for a nanosecond, huh.

They'll start off nice.
"Well, Obama's
a big spending liberal,
he's in over his head.

Never had a job
in the private sector."
Somebody'll respond,
"That's not true."

"George W. Bush
left him a messy economy
and two wars."

Then somebody'll come
back with, "Yeah, well
your sis is a silver back ape

who takes it in the ass
every Friday night,
you fucking
cum-guzzling asshole."

"Oh, good to see
Dad's using the iPad
we got him for Christmas."

Wish they'd talk like that
on Meet the Press.

"George here."
"Stephanopoulos,
you little Greek,
fucking midget.

I'll prick your
eyes out and shit
down your neck." Fucking.

Then the iPhones.
I don't wanna be...
Sound like a crotchety guy.

I can't keep up with the iPhone.
Fucking, can we slow down
with the technology?

By the time I get
mine out of the box,

it looks like a payphone on
The Andy Griffith Show,
fucking.

Fucking, my friends love
these phones.
"It can do anything."
"What do you mean?"

"I got movies." "Oh, so I can
watch Bravehearton a two
inch screen, instead of
a 500-foot screen?

Wow, does it do anything else
I fucking hate?
That's terrific!"

"There's progress.
You're shrinking
the movie, dickhead."

"That's not the point, Nick.
The point is you can
watch movies anywhere."

"Well, where are you
watching movies?"
"At work." "Oh, you're
watching movies at work?"

You wonder why
Chinese economy
is growing 50 times
faster than ours.

In China, they tie a guy
to his work bench.

If he doesn't make
50 Tupperware lids
by 5 o'clock, he gets
a bullet in his forehead.

Meanwhile, over here,
400 Americans about to
die on an Amtrak train

'cause the conductor's
watching a Silver Spoons
marathon on Hulu.

Minneapolis,
I love you people,
I swear to God.

Thank you so much!

I appreciate it. Seriously!

Hopefully, this will be on TV,
who knows. Thank you!