Yo, Theo, they all ready for you, bro.
Awesome, how do I look? Smart?
Appreciate the honesty.
-Do it, huh? -Go get 'em.
[announcer] With no further ado, ladies and gentlemen, Theo Von!
New Orleans!
Yes, indeed.
How we doin', Crescent City?
[applause]
Good to be home, baby. Good to be home!
My buddy said, "Dang, you going down to New Orleans to shoot your special?"
I said, "Yeah!"
He said, "What about that crime?" I said, "Yeah."
He said, "You might get murdered." I said, "Yeah."
"But where else you want to get murdered, baby?"
I don't wanna get gunned down in Cleveland.
I don't wanna get gunned down in Seattle. Murder me in New Orleans, baby!
Right off the French Quarter,
with a stripper on my arm and a fried shrimp in my mouth!
Good to be here, man.
I love this city, and it is dangerous as hell.
Last time I was here, I got bit by a black widow in March.
She was in her 40s.
At this bus stop, man. Right off Canal, bro.
Got me right in the neck, son.
These bitches is accurate.
Been a tough time, man. Been a tough year... family stuff.
You know, always, man.
My uncle just got busted for, uh, uh...
[inhales]
sucking really small dicks.
Yeah, they got him.
He was my favorite uncle, man. He taught us how to masturbate, actually.
He didn't touch us or anything like that.
He just stood up and jerked off into the fire at this party.
I wasn't gonna say anything. It was his party.
Sometimes you just got to sit there and be a Christian.
But in his defense, my uncle's had a lot of issues in his life.
He used to masturbate in his sleep.
So... I'm not joking, man.
So they made him wear these jingle bells on his wrists.
But some nights you would hear him in the other room,
dashing through the snow.
You know what I'm saying, jerking his own dick off.
I'd make requests. "Play 'Rudolph' Uncle Danny!"
"Y'all go to bed!"
You telling me this musical masturbator doesn't take requests?
What kinda family is this, bro?
This family tree got haters in the branches.
Lot of child molesters out there?
No offense if you're in the game.
And now, it's like a big deal, I feel like, if you get molested, you know.
There's Child Services, it gets on the news, it gets on the Internet.
Like, when I was young, you just got molested.
Remember that, bro? Remember the '80s, dude?
You just got molested!
You got a milkshake and a ride somewhere.
That was your end of the deal.
When I was young, if you got molested, you just got back on your bike
and said, "Well, we ain't coming around here anymore.
Nothing but dick around here."
Look, if I got a dollar for every time I got molested...
I'd have like, four dollars and 50 cents.
'Cause I got in this oral pyramid scheme by the Denny's.
Parents, you gotta be careful when it comes to these kiddy-touchers.
You gotta be careful when it comes to these kiddy-touchers.
You can't be getting your son all fixed up.
You can't be getting your boys lisp fixed.
Get his acne tightened up. Get the pro-action on him.
Get his limp fixed.
And then be shocked when he gets picked by the kiddy-touchers!
Fuck, you got him all G'd out.
You know who ain't getting picked, is little Ch-Ch-Charlie's ass, okay?
Who still got his lisp, who got his acne,
who got a wrap his bad leg around his good leg when he wanna go somewheres.
Nobody touchin' little Ch-Ch-Charlie's ass.
You gotta think like the enemy.
Save your money, give it to your boy in a lump sum when he's 18.
Let himself G'd out when he's out of the danger zone.
Think about life.
Good to be home, man, I was born about eight blocks from here, bro.
So it's nice, man. I had an interesting family growing up.
My father was 70 years old when I was born, okay.
True story. I'm not joking, my dad was born in 1910.
I was born in 1980.
Which basically makes me a stand-up comedian.
It was kinda cool growin' up with a dad in his 70's,
because of the time we would spend. Shortly after I was born,
my dad had a stroke.
So, we were both learnin' to walk at the same time.
We used to play games like catch or don't.
And my favorite: "Is Dad sleeping, or is he no longer with us?"
"It's your turn to hold the mirror under his nose."
My mom used to make us hold a mirror under his nose when he was taking a nap
to see if it would fog up or not.
I swear to God, not joking.
And the kids at school would be like, "Well, my dad could beat up your dad."
I'd be like, "No shit, man."
Your dad has more organs than my dad...
but my dad used to bang your grandmother.
Back before they had protection, when all you wore was hope.
"You got any condoms?" "No, but I got this here."
That's that Alabama birth control, baby.
And it's crossin' state lines.
And my friends are like, "Theo, you shouldn't make fun of your conception.
You should be happy you were born. You were that lucky sperm."
I'm like, "Lucky sperm?
I shot out of a 70-year-old cannon, bro."
I was the only sperm.
I had to shut down the nuts. I had to close all the windows,
fuckin' sweep up.
On the way out, I passed a skeleton of a sperm
wearing a "Vote for Lyndon B. Johnson" button.
That's not an orgasm. That's musket fire.
So when I say I'm happy to be somewhere, I'm just happy to be.
Anywhere.
Except at Denny's. They a bunch of child molesters over there.
Y'all got Denny's here?
-Yeah. -Yeah!
Fuck Denny's, bruh.
Fuck Denny's, man.
I wish people would quit shootin' up movie theaters
and shoot up a fuckin' Denny's, okay.
'Cause if you get gunned up at a Denny's,
that's on you, playboy.
Have some respect and take your family to IHOP like a real man.
Denny's suck. Everything at Denny's tastes like eggs and onions.
Everything.
The air, the pie,
even the silverware if you just run in there and lick 'em.
That place is a shithole.
What do they clean the tables with? Syrup?
Like once you sit down, you can't even get up.
"Guess we're staying for lunch. I'm trapped!"
And all the waitresses look like shit at every location.
How do they do it?
They even have a job application?
Or they just have like a special mirror, and if you look like shit...
then you're on staff, Cynthia.
But you gotta wear a hat,
'cause nothing looks better than shit in a hat!
"Put on your hat, shitty. Waffle up."
Fuckin' hate Denny's, bro.
And half the waitresses got whiskers.
Would you shave your ladies, Denny?
Shave your ladies before you put them on the dance floor.
Lady look like a damn cat.
"Meow! Meow! Meow-come to Denny's!
[cat sounds]
Sorry for the bad service.
I just gave birth to a bunch of babies in a cardboard box in the kitchen.
And we's all out of milk."
Fuckin' hate Denny's, bro.
I hate Denny's, and I keep going back there!
I keep going back.
This me every time I leave Denny's. "Man, fuck this place, man."
A week later, "Yes, ma'am, table for one, please.
By the window? Yes, ma'am, thank you. Yeah.
In case there's a drive-by, I go down with this shithole.
Thank you."
Fuckin' hate Denny's, man.
Oh, I don't know why it just makes me so mad.
I gotta quit going, man. I'm gonna quit.
I used to go a lot 'cause my ex-girlfriend lived by a Denny's,
'cause she was a drug addict.
And...
and so, I used to go there and use the shitters,
'cause I didn't wanna use 'em by her house.
So I'd go use Denny's shitters.
But not anymore, man. Fuck that, dude.
I'll shit outside, son, like one of God's boys. Turn up.
What else is going on, man?
Just been chasin' these hos, really.
No offense, hos. Just trying to meet a good lady.
I see some of y'all got one. Good on you.
Some lovely ladies here tonight.
It's tough, you gotta have money these days to get a woman.
And I don't blame you ladies.
Who wants to fuck some poor guy?
That's nasty.
You get done banging, you're just laying there all poor.
"Can I get you a towel that won't match any of the other towels?
What about some chips?
Wanna split a bag of chips with daddy?
Some chips, baby. Wanna calorie up after that bang, wildcat?"
Gotta have money to get the ladies, man. You gotta have nice shit.
I don't have nice shit. I got the other shit.
I don't have a nice apartment.
This is how I cheat, I put all my nicest stuff right by the door, right?
So it looks nice when you come in.
"Yeah, just step over that new toaster!
Nice!
Just set your purse by that Sopranos box set.
Haters welcome."
-[audience member] Yep! -I don't have a nice car.
I have that car where you act like you don't remember where you parked,
but you're standing right next to your car.
And when nobody's looking, you fuckin' get in and you escape.
It looks like you're stealing your own car.
You tell your friends it's a rental.
They're like, "They're renting '97 Accords to people?"
Like, "Yeah, I'm just driving it for charity, actually, yeah.
Yeah, every time I floor it, a blind boy can see four seconds.
So he gets that pop, you know.
So, I get a lot of speeding tickets, you know, for his little dark ass."
No offense, if anybody is blind either.
My friend Maurice is blind, and he said it ain't that bad in there.
But you gotta have money to get the ladies.
If you don't have money, you gotta have the other money: drugs.
Especially in L.A., man, that's where I live now.
Them girls out there a bunch of coke-ghosts.
That's what I call them.
Coke-ghosts, baby, 'cause they're invisible.
They don't answer your calls, your texts,
but you break out a little bag of snow-caine,
they fuckin' show up out of thin air.
Like, "Blow!
Blow!"
Then they're angry when you wanna get 'em in the sheets.
I'm like, "Bitch, you're a ghost!
This is your natural attire.
Now come to daddy."
And if you don't have money or drugs, you gotta be yourself.
Fuck that, man.
Last thing I'm doing is being myself. Not on my watch!
What am I gonna say to a girl? "Hey, my name is Theo.
Mostly, I just Netflix and keep my hopes up."
You'll be alone forever!
But these days you don't have to be yourself 'cause they have Internet.
You can be whatever you want.
You could be a pineapple. You could be dead.
You can be whatever you want, man.
I met a girl recently online.
I hit her up, I said, "Let's get some coffee."
So, she write me back. She said, "Coffee's boring.
Didn't you read my profile? I'm adventurous.
I wanna go skydiving on our first date." [whines]
And nowhere in my budget is there skydiving-for-unknown-bitches money.
That shit ain't hittin' my bottom line. I keep unknown bitches at sea level.
So, I wrote her back. I said, "Well, listen here, fancy,
I happen to live on the 11th floor of my building.
Why don't you come over here, I'll assist you off the balcony
in a windbreaker.
If you're still feeling all adventurous down on the flower beds,
I'll get your newly-crippled ass a coffee, then.
But the caffeine ain't gonna save your legs,
you greedy little gremlin."
And now I'm angry.
Now, I'm angry at a woman that I've never even met.
Thanks, Internet!
Do you know what it's like to be angry at bitches you don't even know?
My buddy Sherman's like, "What's wrong?"
I'm like, "This bitch!"
He's like, "Who?" I'm like, "I don't know!
Invisible bitches, Sherman!
She's a skydiver. Let's wait for her ass."
"How will we know when she gets here if she's invisible?"
"I don't know!
Wait till you feel 'bitch' in the air. That's probably her!"
He's like, "Relax, Little Bear. You need to go to yoga, Little Bear."
"Quit fuckin' callin' me 'Little Bear,' Sherman.
Little bears ain't in their 30s, you idiot."
I get frustrated, man.
I get frustrated real easy, you know.
You ever get frustrated, man?
-[man] All the time. -How do you relax?
You don't? [laughing] Okay, right on.
You just gon' keep stressing till you pop, huh?
That's one way to do it, man.
Gets you to heaven.
But, yeah, it's hard, man, it's hard to relax.
I'm not good at it, man.
I tried the marijuanas. I know a lot of people's on the marijuanas.
And I'm not good at 'em, man.
I get high, I just get real paranoid, you know?
It's like my whole head turns into a haunted house.
I'm like, "What the fuck was that?
Oh, an idea.
This shit's strong, man."
Then I tried yoga. I don't know if you've been to yoga.
I don't know if you've been to this deal. Okay?
If you haven't been, it's like...
It's like fuckin', but by yourself, real slowly.
And it's awkward 'cause all the ladies in there
are sweatin' out of their crotches a little bit.
What is the deal, ladies, huh? Somethin' bit you?
What happened, huh?
What is going on?
Put a little powder in your pants before you go in there. Starch up!
Starch up, drink a Red Bull, "G" up!
What, you hide an armpit in your crotch? Get your life together!
Huh? Huh?
Wear a cup, we don't care. Just get it together.
What if I went around just frothing at the balls all day
like I had a little St. Bernard living behind my nuts?
"Get back there, buddy. Get back there."
"G" up, ladies.
They need to quit marketing yoga to dudes. Yoga ain't for dudes.
"Hey, bro, want to do a bunch of shit you couldn't do?"
"Fuck, no, you creep."
Touch my feet. I ain't touching my feet.
That's why God put 'em down there, so I wouldn't be messing with 'em,
you little sinner.
Yoga ain't for dudes, man.
If my grandfather walked in on six of his friends stretching at the same time,
he'd hit 'em with a fucking shovel, okay?
This shit ain't Christian!
"You men are stretching and don't even know each other's names!
What are you doing? Look at your life!"
Then they have some guy who works in the yoga studio.
He looks like he got fired from a Renaissance fair.
He's like, "You're doing a great job."
I'm like, "Who in the fuck are you?"
He's like, "Open your hip."
"I'll shit on your linoleum.
I will shit in here, bro.
I shit places, okay?
Don't make me make this one of 'em."
Yoga ain't for dudes.
You want a yoga class for dudes, here's the class, all right?
It's called "Simon Says Don't Fart."
That's the class.
It lasts three minutes. Every man farts, admits to it,
introduces themselves to the other men in the room,
looking them square in the eyes,
and leaves out of there with Christ in his heart.
Not this other cat factory they're runnin'.
I hate fartin'.
I do. I always have.
I always have, okay?
I just hate it. I just don't--
I can't believe it, man.
Can you believe we're still fartin'? We're farters.
We think we know somethin'? We're farters.
We have air flyin' out of our ass when it wants to.
What the fuck, people?
I have an app on my phone that can take my blood pressure,
but my asshole's still livin' in the Wild West.
If Apple would spend a half hour on our sphincters,
we wouldn't have this problem!
Bring back Jobs!
I hate farting, man.
It's like your booty trying to tell everybody all your secrets.
It's like, "Don't smell that, you'll know everything!"
The worst is when you're by yourself, living life at your house,
and you're alone in the living room
and you fuckin' cut a little bud up into the air, son,
'cause you know what's up,
'cause you're probably going to heaven.
Then somebody comes in the room 'cause they wanna "tell you somethin'."
Now you gotta smell it all up before they get close to you like--
[inhaling, exhaling]
"Hey, Danny!"
You try to talk so loud, they can't smell.
"How are ya?
Let's go talk by the wall. We never do that!
Let's chat outside. It's raining? Who cares! We're young!"
I hate fartin'.
We gotta beat it, man.
We gotta beat it.
I think we will.
Who even invented fartin'? You ever ask yourself?
Or you're just fuckin' fartin', you creeps.
Probably somebody from Mississippi, okay?
I don't know if you guys have ever been to Mississippi or not.
If you haven't, let me save you a little bit of travel cash, okay?
Go home, urinate in your toilet,
and then get in there with it.
"Ooh! Mississippi!"
That place is a shithole, man.
They need to give it to the Palestinians and solve a damn world problem, okay?
They still have slaves there!
I was there a month ago, I'm pumpin' gas at the gas station,
a brother pops out of the bushes,
he's like, "You got any news from the North?"
Like, fuck this place, dude!
We need to get Morgan Freeman out of there and then bomb that place.
Not with bombs, but somethin' that'll really scare 'em: books!
[shouting] "Algebra!"
Fuckin' hate Mississippi, man.
No offense if you're from Mississippi either.
I don't know anymore, man.
I just don't know what God wants us to do.
[sighs]
So then I decided I gotta get off the Interwebs.
I was trying to meet a woman on the Interwebs.
Electrical humans.
And I said I gotta meet a woman the old-fashioned way. People interaction.
I said I'm gonna ask out the next woman that I see
to practice asking a woman out,
to practice ridin' the bike,
'cause I forgot what it was like.
So I met a girl, she had a brown tooth.
Just one, haters.
But I'm a Christian.
I'm gonna see the rest of her, see what else the Lord has built
around this little shantytown in her mouth,
around this little neck Bethlehem.
I don't know her life. Maybe she got hit by something brown right in the tooth.
Maybe somebody had something brown and they threw it somewhere
and she was somewhere and she got hit by it.
Okay. I don't know her life.
"Knock, knock." "Who's there?" "Her life."
"I don't know you, bro."
So I asked her out, right?
[laughing] She said no.
I was like, "You've got a brown tooth, lady!
Your face is dying!
Your face is dying, okay?
You's a couple candies from being a jack-o'-lantern,
you little sugar hooker.
At least let me take you out for a salad, girly.
Get some baby carrots in your mouth.
Get some vitamins in your system. Get your grill back on its feet."
'Cause who am I supposed to ask out,
if somebody whose face is rottin' off their body is saying no?
Huh? A headless woman?
Where am I gonna meet a headless woman, huh?
A headless woman who just wears her hat on her neck stub and goes to the bank?
How am I supposed to be romantic with a headless woman?
We're at a nice restaurant,
I'm just cutting a little piece of steak and just...
just shaking them into her neck hole?
It ain't right.
And I ain't being gay, man. There's already too many gays out there.
How many gays are out there, bro?
-[man] A hundred million. -No, not a hundred million.
Are you crazy, dude?
Bro, they would be-- They'd be under everything, man.
Bro, no. Not a hundred million. Maybe eighty thousand.
Ninety thousand. Maybe.
With Obama in office, who knows? He's probably...
buying gays from other countries, maybe...
Yeah. Probably gettin' a bunch of Chinese gays soon.
We don't know, is what I'm saying.
We don't know how many people this monkey bit, guys.
We got no idea.
And here's the kicker. Science still thinks one monkey did this.
Uh, hello, science. Couple of monkey's did this, okay?
No offense if you're gay either.
I mean, I'll probably suck a little dick at about 80. Know what I'm saying, bro?
You suck a little dick at 80?
Come on man, you in?
Huh? What's it for? For suckin' dick!
At 80, bro?
You busy?
You're not doing nothing at 80, just sitting by the window.
Wherever you go at 80, they put you by the window.
"Put Pop-Pop by the window!
Pop-Pop's here, put him by the window!"
They don't even fucking ask Pop-Pop.
Any fucking window, they just wheel you over to it.
"That's Pop-Pop. That's your window."
You ain't gonna wheel back one day and huff your boy off once?
Add a little flavor to Pop-Pop's life. Come on, man.
It's not gay at 80, bro. It's chill.
It's just like, "Grandpa is crazy.
But he's staying active."
What you worried about, the feeling?
You're not gonna feel it.
At 80, bro, you're not gonna feel it, man.
You've got no feeling left in your mouth at 80!
All your feelings gone to heaven.
Everything just feel like a warm water.
Probably like somebody trying to sneak a fish stick into your mouth.
"Who's trying to give me this fish stick?
Old Pop-Pop didn't order no fish sticks!"
It's probably like eating a hot dog that's fighting back a little.
Come on, man.
You afraid to suck a little dick? That's the gayest thing I've heard.
You've changed, man.
Being gay has changed, man.
Being gay's changed. Now gay dudes are just like, "I'm gay!"
That's fine. It's the way it always should have been.
Let's not forget the OGs of the game, baby.
Let's not forget our fathers and stepfathers,
who'd meet up behind Shoney's on their lunch break
and tug uglies and go back home to their fucking families and kids.
Let's get a round of applause for those men.
The OGs, baby. The Original Gays.
Some guys are too gay these days, though, bro.
Super gays, the kind of gay dudes where even my gay friends are like,
"This bitch needs to chill out a little."
This guy came up to me the other day in L.A., man.
He had all his stuff in an Easter basket.
He had his phone and monies in an Easter basket.
And he said he's lost, he needs directions.
I said, "I can't help you get anywhere, bro,
not if you frikking bringing your own Easter."
You can always find a super gay dude.
And it's always a frikking white dude.
And he's always standing somewhere like this.
And he's always in a troubled neighborhood.
And he's standing there like this.
[shivering]
Like people are beating him with soft cold dicks,
but nobody's beating him with soft cold dicks!
It's in his brains.
And he's got on Daisy Dukes, but more Daisy than Duke. Okay?
And he's got bright white legs, like, Boo-Radley white,
like tall sacks of soft cream holding him up.
And he don't even look like a fellow.
He looks like a premature baby somebody stretched up real tall
and put a little tank top on him.
And it looks like he don't even have a spine in his body.
Like, in the morning he was down like this in a little pile.
And then he just... [inhales]
caught a whiff of dick in the distance,
and it's been holding him up all day long.
Like, come on, bro. That's super gay, right?
What if I went around just being super fucking straight all day?
I just woke up and started throwing footballs at hot bitches all day long.
Or eating raw meat and shitting in race cars?
They would take me to jail.
But bro-bro's doing BYO Easter, and I gotta act like everything is normal?
Come on, man!
Just be regular gay, man.
You didn't win somethin'.
'Cause we've all been a little gay, bro. You've been there? Just nod.
I've been gay, bro. I'll tell you about it, man.
First time I was gay, I was 11 years old, okay?
The only time that I was 11.
And I was at the movie theater in my town.
I grew up in a small town called Covington, Louisiana,
not far from here, okay? You know it?
Beautiful place, man. Beautiful place.
Lee Harvey Oswald went to our middle school.
True story. Pistol Pete Maravich lived and died in our town.
So... two good shooters.
Tulane University had their primate testing facility center in town,
and in 1994, 70 infected monkeys got out,
and they let us out of YMCA summer camp to help the police look for them.
So what the fuck have you done with your life?
Until you and 11 kids you barely know in wet bathing suits
have surrounded six chimpanzees outside of a Kenny Rogers Roasters,
you probably really don't know yourself.
I'm at the movie theater in our town.
I'm there with my girlfriend. She looked like a boy.
But that's not the gay part of the story, is it, conclusion-jumpers?
She looked like a boy because they only had one haircut in our town
because Mr. Ray was our bus driver.
On the third Thursday of the month, he would park the bus on the way home.
You had three dollars, you would hold your money up.
He was also the barber.
He would clip everybody out that had their monies up.
He only knew one hairstyle. It was kind of like this Polish lesbian cut.
Anyway, that month me and my girl had a bit of spending cash
and we were sitting at the movie theater. Our shit's fresh.
Now, the movie that had come to town was called Pumpkinhead. A scary movie.
It was a film built for fear.
So we're sitting there, just ready to be scared.
There's an older boy sitting next to me. He was 16 years old.
During the film, he got himself a hand job from his girlfriend,
and he ejaculated onto my arm.
It was a pretty decent amount.
And I only had 11 years worth of arm at the time, so it looked like more then.
But he really doused me up.
And I was like, "Holy shit, man. They got me," you know?
"I'm gay."
So... I'm not joking, man.
For three months, I thought I was a young homosexual. You know?
And I broke up with my girlfriend. I started jogging.
And then I'm sitting there at Christmas, I'm crying and wearing all these scarves.
I'm serious, man.
My brother is like, "What the fuck, dude?
Mom's pissed you're wearing all her scarves."
I was like, "I'm a young homosexual, man.
We're just trying to live our lives."
He's like, "What are you talking about?"
"They were getting people at Pumpkinhead. And they got me.
Where were you?"
He's like, "I don't know if you're gay or not,
but you're the dumbest person I've ever met in my life."
Then he beat my ass, actually.
Is that a hate crime?
I think I got hate-crimed, dude.
I knew I thought I got hate-crimed.
But here's the wild part of that story. Here's where the Lord really steps in.
Because the fellow that got ejact onto me...
he died.
He died. He died. He died. [repeats]
He died. He died...
He died in a car accident. He died of natural causes by a car.
Sometimes I'll be sitting somewhere...
thinking or not thinking about something,
waiting for a thought to come and find me.
And I'll feel like...
Let me say this right. I will feel like...
this is, like, his arm a little.
I swear to God, man.
Because I'll just be sitting there doing nothing, or maybe doing something.
And my hand will go like that.
But I won't want nothing.
But it's like he wants something.
Like he trying to get something. Like he wants a candy.
'Cause I wouldn't be reaching for no candies
'cause I know we don't keep candies in the house.
It's like he's reaching for a candy, like, he trying to get a butterscotch.
The second time I was gay was when I met Brad Pitt.
'Cause I met Brad Pitt, dude. I did. I met Brad Pitt.
The real one, the only one God ever made.
Met his ass, okay?
This is what happened. Listen up, haters.
So it's a beautiful day out.
'Cause Brad only lives on beautiful days.
And I'm walking. I'm going to an audition on the Fox lot in Los Angeles.
Probably for a big movie like League of their Own II or something heavy.
The sun is hitting me while I walk.
The rays are just coming down and just touching me on my neck and hair.
Like the Lord just petting me, letting me know I'm still his boy.
In the distance I see a man, right?
I say a man, but I'm talking about the most beautiful woman
you've ever seen wrapped up in a man.
He didn't even look human. He looked like...
Poseidon had been raising a secret little baby boy down in the ocean.
And when that boy was full grown,
he set him on the land and said, "Go, boy.
You live out there now."
Immediately, I was gay. Okay?
Like-- Poof-- Gay.
So, I'm walking and he's walking, we're both going to the same building.
It's a true story.
I don't even know if Brad Pitt even walks anymore,
or if there's an agreement now between gravity and Mother Nature
and the grace of God,
where they just amicably move little Bradley wherever he needs to go.
Like, God has a chessboard with one piece and it's Brad-fucking-Pitt.
Checkmate life, right?
So, I'm walking, he's gliding.
We're both going to the same building, I'm looking at him,
and I'm thinking to myself, "Man, that looks like Brad Pitt."
And then my brain goes, "'Cause that is Brad Pitt, playboy."
Part of my brain is black and gets a little 'hood with the rest of my brain.
I don't know what to do now, 'cause they don't teach you what to do
when you're about to meet Brad Pitt.
They teach us other things.
If you're on fire, little buddy, stop, drop and roll.
If you're going to argue with a short man, don't argue with him in a prone position.
Argue with him like this and be ready for his little actions.
But they don't teach you how to meet Brad-frikking-Pitt
in Brad-frikking-person, right?
So I'm walking, he's gliding.
We're going to the same building, me and the only Brad Pitt God ever made.
Brad Pitt.
And he was wearing-- He was wearing everything.
He had on, like, a tuxedo.
And he was on a horseback.
And he had on furs, but, like, exotic furs.
Animals we've never even seen, like, Chimpanebras and alapacakeets.
And he had Lorax coming off his shoulders,
and he had Care Bear cuff on his boot-tops and wrists.
And... he had no shirt on.
So he's coming from that way, I'm coming this way.
Double doors on the building.
We get to the front of this building at the same moment,
and I'm thinking to myself,
"I'll get the door, 'cause Brad's done a lot for me."
So I grab the door on the left and I pull it.
You know how some asshole always locks the door on the left?
That asshole works here. Okay?
So, I pull it and it's locked.
Usually, you would just open the other door,
but for some reason, I just keep pulling on this locked door
like it's gonna start up and I'm-a mow the yard with it, right?
And Brad Pitt is standing right here. The only one that God has.
And you can feel him when he's standing somewhere
'cause he's got this invisible energy comin' off him,
'cause he's made out of vagina and diamonds.
So, I'm pulling on this door and he goes, "You got it, man?"
'Cause that's what Brad Pitt say when shit ain't going well.
So I look back at him like this.
If you ever looked right at him up close, it's like staring directly into the sun,
but with a little bit of Brad Pitt in there.
I look back at him like this and I say, "I got it, man."
That's what my brain said. My mouth goes...
[stuttering]
Right to his face! [stuttering]
Like an Asian that won't start. [stuttering]
Thankfully he speaks [stuttering],
'cause he's been around social roaches like your boy.
I gotta open door number two, but I don't want this interaction to end.
We might hug, we might fuck a little. This is Hollywood, son.
This is my chance with Brad-frikkin'-Pitt, you animals.
So, door number two, okay?
Naturally, I could just open that door,
walk in this building, let this man live his life.
Or I could open the door for him, let him walk by and just live my own life.
But this is what I did. I open the door.
As it swings open,
I jump across and put my back against the open door.
Like, a way that people don't open doors.
He looks at me like, "That ain't how people open doors."
And I said, "I got it, man. I used to work at a door store."
I'm not joking man, I door-stored him.
Right to his face, dude. Right to his Brad Pitt face.
And... and he goes...
"Ha-ha."
That's what he said.
"Ha-ha."
And I don't know if you ever heard him laugh in person,
but I mean, it's beautiful.
You don't even hear it at first. You just feel the laughter on your skin.
When you finally hear his laugh, I mean, it just...
it sounds like a million babies eating cookies at the same time.
Right when I heard his laugh, crop circles formed in my hair.
And memories of making love to a hundred women I never even met
starting living in my heart.
Mi corazón.
So I'm just standing there against this door, right?
People are going in and out. I'm just reduced to a concierge by this man.
This lady comes runnin' up, this straight-up street beast,
and she's like, "Did Brad Pitt just go in there?"
I was like, "No, ma'am. He went thattaway," you know?
'Cause I ain't telling this bitch where I keep him.
Thank you. Thank you.
And the third time I was gay was just a general time.
When I was younger we used to play a game called "gay chicken."
Anybody in the Navy?
Uh...
Homosexualis con pollo.
It's like, you and your buddy stand there, hold each other's penis, all right.
First person to let go is gay.
But, if you get an erection, you're out.
So you got to play offense and defense, bro.
The worst is when you start catching their pulse a little.
"Why you pump faking, homie? You pump faking."
You can't play with the brothers. You use both hands...
hard on the back, L5-S1.
And you can't play with a Asian guy, 'cause you can't...
You just gotta pinky swear with it.
That's a different game, that's called "broken promises."
That's for the young bucks.
That's for the young bucks, man.
I was 11-7 in '92 actually.
I was, man.
They shut us down, though.
Too many people watching.
Fire hazard.
I was having a tough time meeting a good gal,
my buddy said, "Let me set you up on a blind date."
I said, "All right man, I can't drive my own life. You drive it."
So, he set me up, and I got there early, I'm ready to fuck a little.
And I'm just waiting for this girl, and then finally I see this girl.
I'm like, "Oh, man, I could've met this bitch myself."
She was busted-looking, okay? No offense if you're ugly.
But she looked busted-up.
She looked like she been beaten up by animals.
She been on a new TV show called Bear Beatings.
It was a two-part episode. At the end of the first part,
it was like, "Will these bears continue to beat this bitch?"
And the sequel was like, "These bears are still beating this bitch!"
I'm not saying I look like anything special.
I look like Patrick Swayze and Shrek had a son. Okay?
I look like The Grinch That Stole Matt Damon.
♪ You're a mean one, Jason Bourne ♪
If you look at me from the side, I look like I have bit of Down Syndrome.
I can make that joke 'cause I actually beat Down Syndrome in 1991.
I'm in remission. Praise God, baby.
Amen. That's where I'm from, dude.
I'm from a neighborhood where if you had a handicap,
you better get your shit together, get back on the street and make money.
Toughest kid I've ever known was this boy named Dairy, named after the food group.
He was, yogurt and all.
He had Down Syndrome, wore a Scottie Pippen jersey
and a gold chain every day of his life and carried a fucking gun, son.
"If he ain't got the money, then pop, pop.
Pop-pop!"
I'm not joking, dude. He killed seven pets in our neighborhood one year.
He killed seven pets, bro.
There ain't much you can do when you got a DS fella
spraying off against animals.
We would call the police. They'd say, "Y'all can't call us. Call a church.
That boy is out of our jurisdiction, praise God."
What was I talking about? Oh, the girl on the date.
So, this girl looked wild, bro.
You know, visually freelance.
Um...
Her eyes were real far apart.
I don't know if that's a new thing, ladies.
I'm old-fashioned, I like more of a localized face. You know, just...
Just holdin' a little meetin' by your nose, you know.
Her eyes were just real far apart, you know,
like she wanted to be greedy and see everything.
The last second, the Lord just went "tink" with one of her eyes.
The whole time I'm talking to her, I don't know which eye to look into.
I'll just look back and forth into each eye,
like it's a threesome, but it's just us.
"So good to see you-- What the fuck?
Was your daddy a salmon?"
Ladies, if your eyes real far apart, give your girlfriend an eye marker,
tell her to draw a little more eye on the inside of each eye.
Or draw a third eye in the middle.
Play "guess which two I'm seeing out of" with your mans.
Help each other out.
This lady had strong breath, too. Kinda breath like-- "Whoo!
Kill 'em!"
Strong, bro. Just like--
Like one of her lungs hooked to her asshole. You're like, "Come on now.
Come on, Jannie, you're talking booty."
Strong, bro.
Made me nervous.
Ladies, if your friend have strong breath, you have a responsibility.
Get a little handful of mints or cinnamons.
Run by your friend, throw them at her face like that.
Or be more secretive about it, like that. Okay?
See if some get in her face holes.
Or get a syringe full of peppermint,
sneak up behind Smokey, Dexter her in the neck.
Start at the roots, work your way up. Help each other out, ladies.
Teamwork makes the dream work, okay?
This girl had a big head on her, too. She real, real, real extra-headed.
I'm old-fashioned, I like a regular-headed woman.
I like a basic think piece.
She was real extra-headed,
like her neck had been in a go-catch-something-big contest.
Hurry, you're missing all the big stuff!
Like the Lord had taken her regular head off
and dipped it in some breading and then put it back on her neck.
Made me nervous, man.
Why is my buddy even setting me up with a big-headed girl?
I already have a big head. What are we supposed to do?
Have a big-headed little child?
Can't even lift his beautiful little bitty big-ass head.
It's too heavy for his body to get off the ground.
He gotta learn to crawl side to side, around it.
He gotta play a clock in all the school plays.
Don't hook somebody up with the same shit they already have.
If you got a one-legged friend, don't hook him up with another one-legged friend.
What do think?
They're just gonna lean against each other somewhere where it's level?
Fuck no, man! Two people need at least three legs!
Look at a leg chart, you animals!
And ladies, if you got a big head, work your head out.
Do some laps around yourself, like that.
Put on some head Spanx. Spank your head up.
Spank your head up, mama.
I don't know if you guys know what a Spanx are, it's a special suit
they made for the ladies. I think the Germans made it.
It pushes all their body into their shoes, okay?
I call it "cramouflage."
But we don't notice that, we just see the "ba-bow."
We don't see these tug boots, carryin' the rest of 'em.
Like-- [boat-like sounds]
Goin' to the club. [boat sounds]
We just see the "ba-bow," you know?
Look like a sweet little vase you wanna put all your dick flowers in.
Then you get her home, you crack off these Spanx,
it's like opening up a can of refrigerator biscuits.
Like-- [popping]
Like, "I-I'm just gonna jerk off in the can.
I'm tired, I got a headache.
My headache's tired. I love you."
But we hooked up. Uh...
Sometimes you gotta take one for the team,
even if you was a free agent.
We hooked up, actually I was worried I mighta got her pregnant
'cause the birth control I was using,
aim...
doesn't always work so well, you know.
I didn't want to have a baby with her, 'cause I don't even know her,
which should hold up in court.
"Yes, Your Honor, this is our boy, Headrick, but I don't know her."
Second of all, I didn't wanna have a baby with her.
This is kind of vain. She had, like, a crazy tooth.
You ever meet somebody that have, like, a crazy tooth?
Like way up here. Like it auditioned to be a horn, but didn't get it.
Way up here. Like, they smile and then smile again,
and you're like, "What the fuck?
Where'd your grill get a balcony?"
Just way up here, hiding in the attic like John Wilkes Tooth,
just ready to fuckin' pop out and murder the president, son.
Murder! Murder!
And I didn't want our first baby to have a special tooth
sprouting out of his neck or back, little Shark Week-er.
Only get himself a job with the carnival, working in a cage at night
opening up mail off his sharpened head tooth,
doing special shows for businessmen.
My boy ain't workin' in no cage.
So we hooked up and...
afterwards we're just layin' there, me and her.
Two children of the Lord, done ate the apple.
I'm kissing her on her neck up in here, where all the sweet is,
right here on the sugar shelf.
Just rubbing my hand on her like this, just being real natural.
Like a gentleman. Like a little husband.
Just like a little handicapped fellow petting a scared sheep. You know, just...
"You quit shaking, Daisy, that's just a storm coming, you see.
You just keep growing your wool out, my little mitten-maker.
You want more Apple Jacks, don't you?
Don't you want more of daddy's Apple Jacks, my little lady angel?"
Just being real chill with her.
And then I said, "Are you on birth control?"
She said no, and that's when I got real nervous.
Kind of felt like my heart had to take a shit.
And then I was like, "If you had a baby, would you keep it,
and would it be okay if I just wrote y'all letters?"
'Cause women love getting mail.
And she goes, "Actually, I can't conceive."
And that's when I started running around the room high-fiving shit.
Just cheap shit she had on the walls, like pictures of her family at the beach.
She's like, "Calm down, it's real sad. I've had two miscarriages."
And that is very sad. If somebody says that,
you're supposed to hug them or buy them a plant.
When you're a comedian, you don't think like that.
The devil trying to get your brain.
You say things you shouldn't say, 'cause the words go from your brain
right out of your mouth, not through your heart first.
I was like, "You've had two miscarriages?
I feel lucky my penis lived after it was in there."
So that's what I've been doing.
They're just jokes, people!
It can't all be funny.
And the Jews are clogging up the Internet.
That's all for that.
I think it was easier to meet a woman like in the old days.
I don't know how old some of you are, but maybe the 1800s or whatever.
Back then, you just walked out of your house, if you were a man,
hundreds of miles if you had to, till you saw any woman,
and you just started walking back with her.
She's like, "Where are we going?"
You're like, "To the rest of your life."
And that was a relationship.
And if she got out of line, you took her on a warning hike.
And I'm not saying it was perfect, I'm just saying that it worked.
And the man went out and did the world work.
The woman stayed at home and took care of family work.
I don't think it was ideal for anybody, but the kids were fat, the cat was fed.
You got home, your wife was there with the mail,
like, "Tell me what the mail says!"
And I'm not saying it was perfect. I'm just saying that it worked.
And then women started wanting to do everything.
"We wanna chew gum, we wanna wear hats,
we wanna drive big rigs, we wanna CrossFit."
"CrossFittin'? What the fuck are y'all doing?
Y'all are doing chin-ups in an abandoned shed all morning?
We're fucking starving at the house.
Our boy can't read.
And you're worried about muscle density?
When I married you, you had an ass. Now you got glutes?
What are glutes?
Don't make that thing any harder for daddy to get into."
And now they have a hundred machines at the gym for women.
And now y'all probably feel obligated to use them all.
When I was young, they had four machines at the gym for ladies,
and three of them were stoves.
"I'm gonna do chest and tris. Why don't you do that manicotti we love?"
And I'm not saying it was perfect. I'm saying that it worked.
Here's what I really believe, ladies.
A lot of relationships don't work anymore because opposites attract.
Ladies feel like they have to do everything.
Gotta feel like a ton of pressure.
But if y'all are doing all the women's and men's stuff,
what the fuck are we supposed to do?
I have on facial moisturizer right now. I don't know what's going on.
You got women doin' dead lifts all day, wondering why they don't have a boyfriend.
'Cause you're it.
I don't wanna hug a woman and come in second!
You gotta be the lady. Put down the barbells.
Pick up some flowers, look lost.
You'll have a boyfriend in five minutes.
We gotta stay in our own lanes.
The irony is we have enough in common, ladies.
Women are always like, "You men look good into your sixties.
We start falling apart in our thirties." That's bullshit.
That's bullshit, man.
I'm in my 30s. My hip clicks for the first hour of every day.
Just... [clicking]
For no reason at all, I have a mating call for women with osteoporosis
built into my body. Okay?
My body used to be separate parts. Remember that, guys?
When your shoulder was separate from this,
when your ass was separate from whatever that is,
when your stomach was separate from your chest.
Now it's like I'm living in a fat-muscle onesie I can't find the zipper to.
"Do you like my arm-leg-backceps?"
I got gray hair. Is that scary?
Yeah, ladies, that means my head is dying.
And the first thousand gray hairs,
they don't grow in cool like part of the hair party,
they grow in all fuckin' crazy and swirly, like they're on dope.
Like they're crack hairs,
like, "Damn, dog, I'll suck your dick for some shampoo.
Just comb me, homie."
My nuts look different. I used to have beautiful nuts.
If I had my old nuts, I'd bring them right to you,
you could pass 'em to your friend and get a look, get a snap with your phone.
They was gorgeous. Beautiful little nuts.
Looked like the Lord had one Christmas ornament,
just hung it on my "D" branch,
and went back to the Lord castle.
And they were concise nuts.
One had a good idea and was telling the other.
The other one loved his buddy's idea,
and they was hugging and listening to Cat Stevens.
And they were naturally-tanned nuts.
And I never took my nuts in the sun 'cause I'm with Christ,
I don't do that kind of shit.
Naturally tanned, like angels came at night
and just painted my nuts with tanned paint,
like the Sistine Nutsack.
Now, my nuts look like somebody else been using 'em when I'm not around.
Like I got timeshare nuts.
Like, "Who didn't take care of these?
I bet it was the Thompsons, check the log!"
We're falling apart too, ladies.
I gotta pinch my penis when I fart so it doesn't drip a little.
And that ain't a disease I have, that's every man in here
over the age of thirty.
When you see your husband in the hallway like this,
you're like, "Are you having a stroke?" He's like, "I'm trying to fart!"
We're falling apart too, man.
I shit myself last year. I'll tell you about it, bro.
I ain't above nothing.
I shit myself last year. I was driving my car,
and I wasn't driving to a fancy, shit-yourself meet-up group.
I was just driving, and I reached to put the window down,
and I don't know what button I hit, but I shit myself.
'Cause you can't trust a fart after 29, that's why.
I used to be young and fart with both my eyes open like a ass gangster.
[blowing air]
Now, I gotta keep one eye closed.
Keeping watch on the inside.
'Cause you will shit your sweet Christian self.
I look more forward to the fart after sex than I do to sex itself.
I was dating this gal for a while, and she had a little cat,
would be always in the kitchen waiting for free meats and shit.
Little Democat.
And I'd be back in the room, just going at it,
like two trains trying to pass each other on the same track,
but the whole time I'm thinking, "When I get done,
I'm-a go in the kitchen and fart on that cat.
That's the pussy that's really gonna get it here tonight.
That little asshole."
We're falling apart too, ladies. Put down the dumbbells.
Pick up some flowers, look lost.
It'll all work out.
'Cause I think I want to have a child.
You got any child? What you got?
[man] A little girl, and one in the oven.
You got one in the oven, huh? Hell, yeah, boy, get in there.
I'm thinking of having a child.
I gotta get a girlfriend first, but... I think I want a child.
I just want something to be at home when I'm not there.
But a lot of these kids are bitches these days, man, you know?
Name seven kids that aren't bitches, bro.
Yeah, nobody can.
If they had a tall box right here with a kid in it,
I'd be like, "What's in here? A little bitch, that's what."
'Cause they got it too easy man. These kids have no struggle.
We had struggle, these kids have vaccinations. Come on.
When I was young, you caught what you caught.
Everybody had something.
Rubella, lockjaw, we all had a little bit of polio, remember?
I had a friend who had a fuckin' arm growing out of his back, Larry Armback.
Got a great job as a crossing guard.
He could have been an Olympic swimmer, but he had a skin condition.
He was black. So...
Oh, whatever, dude.
You can put 20 arms on a brother, he ain't gonna wanna get in the deep end.
Kids are calling the cops on their parents, man.
What? Back in the day if you called the cops on your parents,
the cops would get your parents on the phone
and tell your parents to beat yo' ass.
My mother used to whoop my ass. I didn't think she lived with us.
She whooped me so bad one time, I couldn't put clothes on my skin.
My buddy's like, "You're naked!" I'm like, "But I'm behavin'!
This is my behavior outfit.
Now quit lookin' at my dick."
What if I have a dumb kid? I worry about that.
I fucked some dumb girls, man.
One of them hatches something, now I got to raise that.
I can't imagine my whole life just hugging some kid, pretending he ain't dumb,
and knowing he's dumb.
Like, "Aw, everything's gonna be fine, man."
That's got to be the worst, man.
We shouldn't let dumb people have kids, man.
We wouldn't have that problem.
If you don't graduate high school, you shouldn't get to have a kid.
How you gonna raise a kid? You couldn't raise a "F" to a "D."
The problem is we circumcise the wrong part of the boy.
We keep slipping off the turtleneck, we need to take the nuts.
Give 'em back to him when he graduates high school.
"Congratulations, ladies and gentlemen, it's a wonderful day.
Ladies, move your tassels from left to the right.
Men, you can pick your tassels up
from that cardboard box on the way out of the auditorium."
Some of you ladies need to quit having eight kids
before we know what your first kid is like.
You see a woman got seven kids all under the age of five.
Like, "How did you even fuckin' do that?
You ain't a woman, you a wizard."
From now on, you get one kid.
We check on his ass at six.
If he ain't shit, you don't get any more fuckin' kids.
Why? 'Cause the first one ain't shit.
Sick of this bullshit in this country, man.
Sick of it, bro. We gotta get rid of some people.
I don't know if I want to bring a child into this world.
There's some straight creeps out there, dawg.
Some straight lurkers.
If you're over the age of 30 and you still skateboard,
who the fuck are you, dude?
Not Tony Hawk, that's who.
Jacking up my insurance premiums, sir.
Now get the fuck out.
If you wear camouflage but you ain't in the woods or in the military,
who you hiding from?
From looking decent, that's who.
Operation Desert Dumb Ass. Now put on an acceptable pattern,
or get the fuck out.
If you wear sunglasses while you work out at the gym,
are you serious?
You look like a blind person that's good at shit.
Only two men ever looked good in sweat and sunglasses,
that's Fidel Castro and the late Macho Man Randy Savage.
So why don't you snap into a slim piece of advice and get the fuck out?
If you sleep with the TV on,
and wonder why you have attention deficit disorder.
I don't know, probably because you sleep with the TV on!
Shut it off and get some shut-eye or get out.
Asian people who are driving, no more driving.
I know it's cliché, but the trial period has to be over, man.
They can't drive, dude.
No more driving, okay?
I don't Cirque du Soleil 'cause I can't Cirque du Soleil.
We shouldn't just be doing shit just because.
So park it, Asians, and invent the hoverboard I know you know how to make
'cause I can see it in your eyes...
or get the fuck out!
Thick people that's hoggin' all the wheelchairs at the airport.
And I ain't sayin' it's sistas, but I ain't sayin' it ain't.
Disabled Staff Sergent So-and-So, who lost his legs in Afghanistan,
gotta elbow-crawl to make his connection
'cause Mama Bear is hogging all the assistance.
Park it and walk if off, Loqshwanda, or get out. Okay?
Persian people.
Get out, bro.
Nobody likes you guys, man. Sorry to be the messenger.
If you guys were offended by anything I said tonight,
get the fuck out, son!
I'm Theo Von, thank you guys very much for comin' out tonight.
[applause]
Thank you.
Thank you very much.
[rap music]
[Theo] Thank you!