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Let's go.
I got in a car accident right before the show.

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YTS.MX

Cool, cool way
to start the show.

Got rear ended out there
on the ice rink.

Pretty, pretty sweet.

Always gets me
pumped for comedy.

Just pop out. "You know what?
The world is a magical place."

I was on a flight recently.

I was coming back to Denver
from Florida.

I was doing some shows
down in Florida.

We're getting ready to take off.

I'm sitting in the middle seat
of a Southwest flight

'cause I'm a Southwest
Rewards member.

That's one of the perks.
And we're getting ready to take off.

There's this old guy
sitting next to me.

And he puts on his,
like, earbud headphones,

and he immediately starts
screaming in my face.

"Hey, I'm listening
to somebody else's music.

"This is somebody else's music."

I'm like, "I don't know.

"Jesus Christ, dude,"
I show him my phone.

I'm like, "It's not mine."

He's like, "How do I find out
whose music this is?"

I'm like,
"You're yelling so loudly,

"I think they can hear you
on the next fucking jet over, dude, chill out."

But he just keeps
yelling in my face.

"This isn't my music.
This is somebody else's."

I was like, "This cannot be
the entire flight."

I will open the door.
I will open the door up there.

You read these stories
where people open the door up there.

It's this guy. They're like,
"Fuck it, I'm leaving.

"I'll take my chances.

"I'm just going to look
for a lake on the way down.

"Just gonna use my carry on,
as, like, a Fortnite glider.

"This is gonna
work out somehow."

Somehow.

But he just keeps yelling at me.

He just keeps hollering.

"I don't know
whose music this is."

And then finally,
he opens up his backpack

and he pulls out a tablet,
like, an iPad, and he goes, "Oh, it's this."

I was like, "What?

"You don't even recognize
your own music?"

Insane. Insane.

I was like, "This guy
should run for president.

"He's got... He's got
what we're looking for."

Everybody's got COVID again.

Almost nobody gives a shit.

What a difference a handful
of years makes, huh?

Wow! Wow, how times
have changed.

Remember back in 2020
when your friend told you

they have COVID?
You'd be like, "Oh, my God.

"Well, I guess I'll help you
fill out your will,

"and we can spend these
precious last moments

"playing acoustic guitar
over Zoom, I guess."

Now you tell your friend
you have COVID.

They're like,
"I don't give a shit, dude.

"You're still coming
to my party. Nice try.

"Nice try, dude!

"No, you don't
have to wear a mask.

"Just don't, like, double dip
the chips, I guess.

"I have safety protocols
in place."

I didn't emerge
from the pandemic as a germaphobe,

which kind of surprised me.

But it's still weird now

to be in a group of people,
and have someone

just uncork a raw sneeze
around you.

It's like, "What the fuck
are you doing, dude?"

They're just, like...

Or almost worse,
people who sneeze into their hands directly, like...

"I'm actually saving this
for later.

"I just thought I would...
Just thought I would paw at everything

"on my way out of the room."

What's wrong with you?
You sneeze in your elbow.

Did you not go to kindergarten?

You sneeze in here.

This is the trash can
of the human body.

Everything you don't want
goes in here.

Sneezes, cigarette butts...

Heroin.

Anything you're getting rid of.

Anything you're getting rid of.
Dump it.

I recently celebrated five years
of not drinking booze.

Five years.

Thanks. Thanks.
I say celebrated.

I was painting miniatures
at home, alone, but...

You celebrate differently
when you're sober, you know?

You celebrate fucking terribly.

That's how you celebrate.

Oh, my gosh.

I've never had to quit
doing something I was so good at before.

That feels weird.
It's like, "Take me out, coach.

"I'm crushing it.

"No, bench me. Bench me.

"Show some mercy on the world."

But I do drink a lot
of non-alcoholic beer.

And I realized I'm getting
a non-alcoholic beer gut from it.

Truly, no sadder way
to gain weight.

That's the saddest way,

is the old NA beer gut.

At least with a real beer gut,

you're like, "Oh, man,
the good times

"I'm pretty sure you and I
have shared, compadre.

"I'm just kind of hazily
piecing them together

"like a thrift store
jigsaw puzzle."

But with
a non-alcoholic beer gut,

you're like, "Wow,
the crystal clear memories I have

"of pretending to have fun
around people who are.

"Mmm! Thank you, Thank you,

"fifteen extra pounds of fat
that I'm carrying around

"like a chubby baby
that's never coming to term."

Mmm. Cool way to live.

I think non-alcoholic beer
is kind of a weird product, though,

'cause, like on
the spectrum of vices, beer is pretty low, right?

Beer is not even that crazy.

I want alternatives
to, like, the real shit,

like, the good stuff.

Here's what I want.
I want non-cokehead coke.

That's what I want.

From the makers
of non-alcoholic beer,

non-cokehead coke.

I can't do real coke. I've got
a flippity-floppity heart.

But non-cokehead coke?

Let's do this. I'm on board.

I wanna hang out

in some of Denver's grossest
bathroom stalls with my friends.

Just kick open the door
like, "Fuck, yeah!

"Are we ripping snoots
in here or what?

"Let's go."

I don't know the terms.
Why would I?

Like chop, chop, chop,
chop, chop, chop, chop...

"Oh, yeah, mine's strawberry.
What are you guys doing?

"Oh, yeah, that's good.
That's tangy.

"What are we talking about
in here? Ourselves?

"Yeah, that's what I thought.
Cool. Cool. Perfect.

"Perfect. Perfect."

I'm getting older.
I'm in my 40s, obviously.

I think one of the worst things
about getting older,

it's not when your knee
turns into breadcrumbs.

Or you hurt your back sleeping.

Although those
are both terrible.

I think one of the worst things
about getting older

is when dumb shit
makes you cranky.

Because then
you feel old, right?

You're like, "Oh, this dumb shit
is making me cranky.

"It's, like, irritating me."

But I feel like I could be
part of the first generation

who's kind of right about

the dumb shit
that's making them cranky.

Look at what used
to make old people cranky.

They'd be like, "Rock and roll?
I hate it."

They're like,
"A baseball cap indoors?

"You're making
the president cry!"

Like, "What? Shut up,
you weird, old fuck!

"Whose rules are these?"

But shit nowadays
is kind of dumb.

TikTok, Post Malone,
electric unicycles?

That shit's dumb. I'm sorry.

And if that makes me old,
I could not be happier to be old.

Fucking age my ass up, baby.

Hand me the wrong chalice
at the end of Indiana Jones.

I'm ready to go.

Turn me into dust.

Yeah, that's even
an old movie reference.

I know some of you clenched up

when I made fun
of precious things

like TikTok,

but let's look at this stuff.

Like, all social media
is pretty dumb,

we can agree on some level.

But TikTok is like
another level of dumb.

Some of you are old enough
to remember something called public-access television.

Do you remember
public-access television?

Public-access television
was TV that anybody could make.

If you're just, like,
a weird person

who wants your own show,

come on down to the studio
and you can have your own show.

What's the show?
It's Craig's Succulents.

It's a guy named Craig
showing off his succulent plants.

By the way, this is the set
of Craig's Succulents, I had it brought in.

I had brought in special
just for this taping.

It was hard to get,
it was hard to get.

But TikTok
is like public-access TV.

But you don't even go down
to the studio.

You're just sitting in
the driver's seat of your car,

pretending to be a doctor.
It's terrifying.

It's terrifying.

And Post Malone.
Like, I've heard Post Malone is a cool guy.

I've heard he's a nice guy.

But that dude isn't even 30 yet.

And he got "always tired"
tattooed on his face.

Just you wait,
my good bitch.

Just you wait.

Oh, boy, if you think
you're tired now...

That dude's going to be
in his 50s,

and that shit's gonna have
dribbled down his face

like a spooky Halloween font

in one of life's
cruelest lessons.

And electric unicycles?

Oh, my God, I remember
growing up in the '80s.

You think about the year 2024,

you're probably gonna have
your own flying car, friend.

So get ready.

Your own personal flying car.

Smash cut to 2024.

They're like, "Yeah, we're still
working on the flying car,

"but as a consolation prize,
electric unicycle? Huh?"

Who is this product even for?

It's like, "Yeah, I don't
want the exercise,

"but I do want to look
fucking dumb."

Congrats.

Yeah, we got something for you.

Zip on out of here,
you lazy clown!

Get out of here!

I read this sobering
statistic recently.

I don't know if any of you
have heard this.

Every hot dog you eat

takes 30 minutes off your life.

Oh, yeah!

Yeah, I'll say it again.

Every hot dog you ingest
removes 30 minutes from your lifespan.

And I read that.
And I was like, "Hell, yeah.

"It looks like somebody's
getting off work

"a few weeks early. Let's go."

It turns out I'm using
my vacation time on the back end.

Let's go.

I will be honest with you all.
I could go at any time.

I could die tonight
on this stage.

I've eaten too many hot dogs.

I didn't know this fact.

I didn't know this when I was
all in on hot dogs.

I am glad, though, that they
just did hot dogs

and then they stopped.

I do not want the doom math

for all the terrible foods
I enjoy.

Oh, my God. Can you imagine?

They're like, "Did you know

"that every full size bag
of Doritos you eat alone in your car,

"takes 45 minutes
off your life?"

I'm like, "No, stop!"

"Did you know every frozen pizza
you bake

"and then fold in half
and eat like a giant taco

"takes four months
off your life?"

It's like, "Quit it! Stop it!"

I'm here for a gross time.
Not a long time.

Leave me alone.

I do suffer a bit
from anxiety and depression.

I don't know
if I should say suffer

because maybe
that trivializes it

for people
who have it really bad.

My depression is like,
I'm visited by depression.

That's how my depression is.

My depression is like
a shitty roommate

who most of the time
isn't around.

He's, like, over at his
girlfriend's or something.

He's not around, it's great.

But every now and then,
he comes home.

Case in point,
a little while ago,

I found a weird bump on my arm

and I was like, "Oh, shit,
what's this bump?"

Like, "What if this is cancer?"

And then I immediately thought,

"Well, maybe you'll die.
Who gives a shit?"

Oh! Roommate's home.

"Hey, bud,
didn't hear you come in.

"Go ahead and bring all the mugs
out of your room while you're coming out.

"Thanks."

"You still owe me
half the utilities, Depression."

Sometimes there's a silver
lining to depression.

Sometimes I save money.
That's great, right?

The other day, the airbag
warning light came on in my car.

I was like, "Good."
Boom. Save 200 bucks.

I'm never getting it
fixed, ever.

I'll take a free
behind-the-scenes tour of how an odometer works.

I don't give a shit.
Thanks, Volkswagen.

I've been going to the gym more.
I've been trying to get into shape.

I have a hard time at the gym
because I get so bored.

I get bored
of all these machines that are pretending

to be something
that you might do outside.

Like, I got tired
of the sidewalk to nowhere, the treadmill.

I got tired
of the bicycle to nowhere,

the stationary bike.

So I was like, "You know what?
I'm gonna try this new machine

"that I've kind of seen lurking
in my peripheral vision,"

which is the staircase
to nowhere.

Maybe your gym has one of these.

It's like a treadmill upstairs,
just stairs forever.

If you're looking
for an appetizer of what hell is going to be like,

it's this. It's infinity stairs.

And as soon as I got on,
I was like,

"Wow, I've made
a horrible mistake. Holy shit."

I guess I'm not really
a stairs guy, it turns out.

I'm just suffering up there.

And sometimes when I'm having
a hard time doing an exercise,

I'll give myself, like,
some kind of, like, daydream to motivate myself.

Maybe some of you do this
where you, like, focus up.

You're like, "All right,
just think of this scenario

"and see if you
can power through it."

So I'm, like,
on the stair machine.

And I'm like,
"Are you telling me

"that if your daughter
was trapped

"on the 50th floor
of a burning building,

"you can run your ass up
the stairwell

"and rescue her, right?

"Let's get to work, bud.
Let's hoof it out."

So I'm like, "All right,
we can do this."

I made it up
48 flights of stairs,

and then
I basically fell backwards

off the machine like,
"No, she's gone!

"No!"

I'm just grabbing people
walking by,

"Where the fuck
was the fire department?

"Why was it my job
to go up there?

"That's crazy!"

It turns out there is
a judgment zone

in a Planet Fitness,
and I found it.

That's it.

I don't often
ask the crowd questions,

but I do have a question
for all of you tonight,

and you can answer either
by yelling it out

or raising your hand,
depending on your upbringing.

Dealer's choice.

Who here thinks they've had
the worst hiccups of their life, situationally?

And I'll give you an example
of what I'm talking about.

Let's say
you're on a speeding bus

trying to defuse a bomb

and you've got
the hiccups during that.

That would be
the worst hiccups of your life.

Situationally.

Who here thinks they've had
the worst hiccups of their life,

situationally?

Nobody? Just all peaches
and cream hiccups in here tonight.

All right. Impressive.

Nice. Well,
here's the reason I asked,

because I recently had
a colonoscopy

and I got the hiccups
during that.

If you wanted to know what

my personal worst hiccups were.

I've never felt more like
a fucking lollipop in my life.

I was like, instead of
giving me the mild sedative they promised,

they've killed me
and I've gone to hell

because this has to be hell.

They said I wouldn't
even be awake for this.

Not only am I awake,
I've got the hiccups.

I can't get rid of them, right?

I'm unscareable in this moment.

I'm naked on my side
with a camera in my butt,

surrounded by three strangers.

If someone comes in this room
with a running chainsaw,

I'd be like, "Right here.
Cut it off! Cut it off!

"Let me draw a dotted line
for you.

"Get this head off my body."

Get out of here.

And I mercifully nodded off

from that sweet, sweet heroin
they pipe into you, or whatever it is.

And I didn't know this.
When you get a colonoscopy,

they don't let you
drive to the appointment.

And in a weirdly specific twist,

you can't take a Rideshare
or the bus, either.

It's got to be a friend
or a family member.

It's that specific.

It's got to be a friend
or a family member.

So if you're lonely,
it's ass cancer for you, bud.

Sorry, I don't make the rules.

It's got to be a friend
or a family member.

Guess you'd better sit down
and make one of the weirdest

Craigslist posts of all time.

"Looking for a temporary
friend or family member

"for my butt camera appointment.

"No, we don't have to be friends
after the appointment."

I can understand why
they don't let you drive, right?

You just came out
of your little heroin nap.

That wouldn't be safe.

I guess it makes sense
that you can't take a Rideshare.

Maybe you'd fall asleep
in the backseat,

or you'd give them
the wrong address.

But I can't take the bus?

Have you ridden
the city bus lately?

I think they can take it.

I think the bus...
I think the bus can handle it.

I can just shamble on there
with that assless hospital gown.

No one's saying shit.

Everyone could care less.

I can just lay down in the aisle
like a Renaissance painting.

No one gives a fuck.

Like, "Yeah, it's the bus."
"Yeah, this is part of the bus."

"Yeah. This one goes by
the colonoscopy center.

"So we get about ten a day.

"We just stack them in the bus
like firewood, and off we go."

Huh?

I did recently have
some lifesaving surgery that...

Well, a vasectomy,
but it counts.

It counts.

The life you save
could be your own.

Yeah, if you like doing
dumb shit like I do.

I didn't know anything
about a vasectomy before I got one.

And maybe some of
you dudes here tonight

are curious about it,
and you don't know anything about it.

So let me break it down for you.

I can tell you...
I can tell you all about it.

First of all,
the entire procedure

took seven minutes.

Seven minutes
to fix me like a dog.

Snip, snip.

It's taken me longer
to put on a condom before.

Holy shit!

I'm like, "All right,
this one's expired.

"Okay, I don't
really trust that.

"That's a ramen seasoning
packet. I don't know...

"I don't know why I left that
on my nightstand.

"That's on me."

The entire appointment,

consultation and procedure,
took 39 minutes.

It's like getting
a mole removed. Thirty-nine minutes.

I think they do the consultation
right before the procedure,

because if they told dudes
what they were about to do to them

and then let them
leave the building,

they'd never come back.

They'd be like, "I'm just
gonna keep rolling the dice

"on the accident babies.
But thanks, bye."

But the doctor waits
until I'm naked from the waist down.

I'm laying on a table
with paper over my junk

like the world's grossest deli.

And then he tells me
what he's going to do.

He's like, "All right, I'm going
to make a hole in your scrotum.

"I'm going to sever
both your vas deferens,

"I'm going to seal them
with heat.

"And then I'm gonna put
titanium clamps on them

"so they can't grow back."

What? Titanium clamps?

It sounds like you're trying
to kill a villain in a Marvel movie.

What the fuck?

I mean, titanium
is a great metal.

I like it on my bicycle.

I don't know
if I need it in my nuts.

That's quite...
That's quite an upgrade.

But what am I supposed to say?

I'm already there
on the table. Like,

"You'll have to catch me first."
Like...

I just get up, I'm just
Winnie the Pooh-ing around the office, like...

Like, "He's hard to get.

"He's a pretty spry
for an older guy."

Just chugging around.

I'm like, "All right,
I guess you will.

"'Cause you caught me.
I'm ready to go."

Another delusion
I was laboring under

was that I was going to be
totally out for it.

Uh, no, it's the most
local anesthetic

you've ever had.

You'll never be more awake
for anything in your fucking life.

I can tell you that right now.

He gives me a couple of shots

and he's like, "All right,
I'm ready to get started."

I'm like, "What? Right now,
while I'm, like, thinking and talking

"and remembering?

"Seriously, you can't,
like, hit me with a cartoon hammer first?"

He's like, "No, no,
we're good to go."

I'm like, "Fuck!"

So I'm just laying there,

making small talk about
comedy writing with this doctor

while smoke
is coming out of my balls.

Smoke.

You don't wanna see
smoke come out of any body part, right?

Like your hand.
You're like, "Fuck, my hand is smoking! No!"

But my balls? I'm like,
"Is it gonna set off the sprinklers in here?"

Holy shit.

He's like,
"No, this is totally normal."

I was like,
"I don't think it is, dude.

"I think you're
over-roasting 'em.

"You're giving me
the Starbucks, dude.

"Pull back a little bit.

"Let's go."

And then after that,
they seal you up

with a dollop of glue,

like from a Michaels
craft store hot glue gun.

I was like, "Why,
did you waste all your stitches money on titanium?

"What the fuck is this?

"You're just gonna glue
my nuts shut?"

"Yep. And then off you go."

They just give you
a slap on the ass

to make it extra demeaning.

"You can catch that bus
right out front, dipshit.

"Let's go.

"Get out of here."

Thirty-nine minutes.

You could do it on your
lunch break at work.

You just come hobbling
back into the office.

"Hey, how was lunch?" "Uh...

"Surprisingly awake."

And then like,
"Were you smoking out there?"

"What is that, pipe tobacco?"

"No."

It does feel
a little weird, though,

to get a vasectomy
as a single guy in my 40s.

It feels a little bit like

installing a seat belt
on my couch, right?

It's like, "Where do you think
you're going, bud?"

Like...

"No. Can't be too safe.

"You're right. Yeah, yeah, yeah,
yeah, yeah, yeah.

"Safety first around here, bro.

"Absolutely.

"Maybe wear a hard hat
to the fridge while you're at it, pussy.

"How about that?
How about that?"

A few weeks ago,
I was sitting in the tub.

It was a Friday night.
Just sitting in the tub,

reading a science fiction novel,

drinking some
sleepytime tea. Yeah.

I told y'all, I quit drinking.

So, eat my ass, fun.
How about that?

That's the new Friday night
tub time.

Just having a tub,
reading a book, having some sleepytime tea.

It was great.
Having a perfectly nice time.

You ever drink tea
and the tea bag rips a little bit,

you get debris in your mouth.
Not a big deal.

You just spit it back
in the mug.

I'm finishing up
my sleepytime tea.

Oh, got a little something,
spit it back in the mug...

Oh, not tea at all.

Just a black spider
the size of a baby's hand.

Yeah.

It was a good thing
I was already naked and in the tub.

I could just start
immediately screaming.

It was such a short cut for me.

I've never done
the opposite things

faster in my life.

I was like, "Wow,
this is so relaxing.

"I don't know if I could
ever be more relaxed."

"I'll never relax again.

"And in fact, I'm setting fire
to this house with me inside it.

"I'm leaving."

These spiders
are out of control.

People always
say this about spiders.

They're like, "You know,
they're more afraid of you

"than you are of them."

Uh, bull-fucking-shit!

The spider just suicide
bombed my sleepytime tea.

That's aggressive.

'Cause you didn't, like,
slip taking a sip of it.

Like, "I'm also tired."

That wasn't even
the end of it, either.

A few weeks later,
I'm sitting on the toilet.

There was a spider hiding
under the toilet seat,

and it ran across
my bare ass cheek.

Yeah, I am ruined
for life by this.

I will never be the same.

Anytime I hear someone
talk about a habit

that they can't change,
I'm like, "Oh, yeah, really?

"Why don't you try
sitting down on a toilet

"and having a spider
run across your bare ass cheek

"and tell me you don't check
every toilet seat

"for the rest of your life?"

Because that's my life now.

I'm checking and you can't
just check the toilet seat

because what if they're under
the rim of the actual toilet?

So you've got to give it
a couple good whacks

to scare the spider out.

Give it a few bangs.

So I'm the lunatic
in the public restroom.

Like, wham, wham, wham!

Like, "What? Sometimes
there's spiders in here, dude.

"Well, I lived it, fuck-face.

"So not that funny actually."

Just a maniac.

So in related news,
I moved recently.

I moved
to a new place.

It was hard. It was hard moving.

I had to go through
so many terrible apartment ads.

So many terrible house ads.

And I came across
the craziest apartment review

I've ever seen in my life.

And I'm gonna read it
for all of you tonight.

This is an actual
one-star apartment review

from right here in Denver
by some guy named Adam.

First of all, this review
is written in all caps,

zero punctuation,

or as we all know,
the language of the damned.

I've never even
written in this style.

I don't even know
how you write like this.

Like, you sit down,
like, punch your Caps Lock key,

and, like, duct tape yourself
to your gaming chair

like, "Let's fucking do this."

Just enter some kind
of fugue state.

I don't know. But here we go.

One-star review. Don't panic.
It's not very long.

By Adam.

"Do not move here.

"Worst place ever.

"Ghosts everywhere in the house.

"You can't even sleep the night.

"Couldn't wait
till my lease was up.

"Lived there for a year.

"Expensive. Not worth it.

"People come from different
places to the pool,

"and they don't even live there,

"and office does
nothing about it."

One star by Adam.

First of all, so chill
with the ghosts up front.

But he's like,
"But the real problem

"is people sneaking
into the pool."

Sure, there are the shambling

supernatural specters
of the undead

roaming the halls at night.

But seriously,
whose fucking kids are these

down at the pool?

These kids don't live here.
They're climbing over the fence.

Priorities, Adam. Nicely done.

First of all, if you're
complaining about

other people using your pool,

you're at best, a pool grinch

and at worst, a fucking racist.

Who gives a shit?

Let people use your pool.

As soon as one other stranger
is in your pool, it's ruined.

You're basically
taking a bath with a stranger.

So just let everybody in.
The more the merrier.

Open the gate.

But going back to the ghosts,
I'd like to imagine

this is this dude's
first shitty apartment ever.

He's never even heard
about thin walls.

He's never heard that
that's even an option.

He grew up in,
like, a stone castle

in Romania or something.

So on his very first night,
he's like, "Oh, my God.

"Whoa! There's a ghost upstairs.

"It's walking around
on high heels.

"Oh, my God.

"The other night I heard
a ghost behind this wall.

"It sounds like it listens
to the same shows

"I like to watch.

"The other night,
I was trying to sleep.

"I heard two ghosts
fucking in the wall."

"Yeah."

The next morning,
they see those neighbors, like,

"Did you hear those ghosts
fucking in the wall?"

They're like, "Uh...

"We've gotta move.
Yeah, we're gonna move."

Did y'all ever eat meat
around a vegetarian

and they give you these little
thought puzzles to solve?

Yeah, like, you'll be
eating a hamburger.

And they're like, "Oh,
you like that hamburger?

"Think you could ever
kill a cow?"

And I was like,
"Lo, I could never kill a cow.

"Okay? You busted me."

They got those sweet brown eyes.

Those long eyelashes.
I could never kill a cow.

You're, like, eating some bacon,

they're like, "Oh,
you like that bacon?

"Think you could ever
kill a pig?"

"Again? No, I could
never kill a pig. Okay?

"They're smarter than dogs.

"It would be, like,
nuzzling my leg.

"I could never kill a pig."

"Oh, you like that turkey sub?

"Think you could
ever kill a turkey?"

I could kill the fuck out
of a turkey. Are you kidding me?

Turkeys? Nature's monsters?

Not a problem.
I can do that one.

I don't even know
what a turkey is.

It's like somebody put a bird
in a bunch of chewed up gum

in those teleporter pods
from The Fly.

And then, like, a turkey
comes lurching out through the smoke.

It's got its brains
on the outside of its head.

It's got a fucking System
of a Down goatee.

What kind of bird...

What kind of bird
needs a new metal goatee?

It's insane.

If you go to a farm,
you go to a farm sanctuary,

you'll always end up
with one turkey following you

with its head cocked
with this, like,

mentally unwell prisoner energy.

Like, yeah,
"Fuck around. Find out."

"Jesus, turkey.
I'm gonna kill you

"just to keep you away from me.
Get the fuck out of here!

"I'm gonna kick you
like a beach ball."

No. I'm just joking.

I would never kill a turkey.

You could never kill a turkey.

What if you tried to kick it
and you missed? You're dead.

You just signed
your own death warrant.

That turkey is going
to climb up your body

and scratch your eyes out so...

Fine. I wouldn't
kill a turkey either.

Was thinking recently
about how dumb Batman is.

Yeah, not everyone
loves this one. But, uh...

I grew up loving comic books.

I loved Batman.

And then I actually, like,
analyzed what Batman really is.

Let's take a look
at what Batman is.

Batman is a billionaire

who dresses up in body armor

and then the cops
turn on a special light

on top of the police station
and Batman shows up.

And then the cops tell him

which mentally ill person
to go beat the fuck out of.

That's Batman.
That's how Batman works.

So if we had a Batman
in our world, how it would work

is the cops turn on
a special light

on top of the police station,

and then, like, Elon Musk
shows up wearing body armor.

And the cops are like, "Yeah,
Kanye is off his meds again."

And he's like, "I'm on it,"
and he jumps in his stupid truck

and auto drives away,
runs over a kid.

That's our Batman.

And that's the best Batman
we could get.

It's sad. Sad but true.

I don't understand
this new trend either

of putting cop merch on cars.

I see this all the time
in Denver.

People love to put
cop merch on their car now.

They got the American flag
with the blue stripe through it.

Like "Back the blue."

"I wish a cop would carry me up
to bed and tuck me in."

I was like, what?

When did we become
a nation of dorks?

Like,
"You know who my favorite person in class is?

"The teacher."

Like, shut up!

What's wrong with you?

Being a cop is a job.

They get a salary,
they get a pension,

they have the best union.

They don't need you
running a non-profit

on the back window
of your truck.

And people are like, "Yeah,
but being a cop is a hard job."

Yeah, so is pumping out
porta potties.

Nobody's got those guys' back.

There's no
Poo Lives Matter stickers.

There's no American flag
with a diarrhea green stripe

going through it.

Everyone in this room
would rather be a cop

than pump out porta potties.

And that's a fact.

You can take that to the bank.

People are like, "Yeah,
but cops can get shot at their job.

"Ever think about that?"

Well, spoiler alert.

Every American has unlocked
that perk actually.

The difference is
cops get body armor

and the rest of us will be
holding up our employee badge.

So not that cool.
It's not that cool.

I've actually been
arrested a few times.

I've actually
been to jail twice.

Relax. It was
for killing someone.

Uh...

No, it was for expired
license plates. Both times.

Failure to appear in court
for expired license plates.

That's a pretty funny way
to go to jail.

People are like,
"What are you in for?"

Uh, crippling ADHD, apparently.

Because I'd rather be in jail
than get my license plates.

People ask me what
the worst part about jail is, and I'll tell you what it is.

First of all, I'm talking
about jail, not prison.

This is the minor leagues
of putting people in cages,

not the pros.

But in jail, I'll tell you what
the worst thing about jail is.

It's not the food,
although the food sucks.

There's one jail I went to
where every single meal

was a dry bologna sandwich
and an old withered orange.

Every meal. Same meal.

Dried bologna sandwich,
old orange.

It was like being taken care of

by a single parent
doing the absolute minimum.

It's not the toothbrush,
although the toothbrush sucks.

They won't give an inmate
a regular toothbrush.

As we all know,
you'll immediately whittle it

into a dagger and kill someone.

You can't handle
that responsibility.

So the toothbrush in jail
is like a lollipop stick

with a little sponge on it,

and they wrap it up
in cellophane.

And the first night
they passed them out,

I thought they were suckers.

I was like, "Whoa,
you get suckers before bed in jail?

"I thought this was supposed
to be punishment.

"This place rules.
We get night candy?

"Fuck, yeah.

"This is some bad boy shit.

"I'm on board."

But I found out
it was a toothbrush

because the guy was
walking by my open cell

and I was like,
"Hey, is this a toothbrush?"

And he snatched it out
of my hand and he goes,

"Yeah, it is." And then he
just walked away with it,

and I was like, "Whoa,
cool move, dude. Nice work."

You know what they say
about jail.

On your first day,
find the littlest guy in there and steal his toothbrush.

So power move.

Enjoy those
minty teeth, you fuck.

It's not your cellmate,
although that's also terrible.

Have you ever been
on an elevator ride

with someone
who might have been,

like, creepy, or weird
or smell bad?

Now imagine there are
all of those things

and that elevator
is never opening.

That's what it's like
to have a cellmate.

The weirdest thing
about cellmates, though,

is that they always
want the top bunk.

It's like people never
outgrow that, I guess.

Like...
"Top bunk, top bunk."

Like, grow up, dude. What's next?

You're gonna call shotgun
for the electric chair?

Relax.

You child.

No. The worst thing about jail
is the holding cell.

The holding cell was horrible.

Right here in downtown Denver,

the holding cell
is just one big room,

and it's got metal benches
fastened onto the wall.

And they just put
everybody they caught

for the night in there,
one after the other.

And everyone
who comes to the door

is having the worst night
of their life.

Some of them are
actively bleeding.

They're screaming.
They're so mad.

They're all fucked up
on God knows what.

And just every time
the door opens,

it's a new ingredient
for a terrible stew,

and you have no idea how long
you're gonna be in there.

They just keep adding people,
and in the middle of all this,

there's one metal toilet

with no curtain
and no partition.

And as soon as
I walked in there,

I was like, "Body, I'm gonna
make a deal with you right now.

"I will die of septic shock
before I shit in that toilet.

"Okay?"

And my body was like,
"Same page, dude. Absolutely.

"Same page. We're taking
this one to the grave.

"We're not gonna do it."

But I'll tell you who you do
have to watch out for in jail.

It's the dude who
who walked into that room

and immediately
strutted over to that toilet

and shit in front of everyone.

Just making furious eye contact
with each person in the room.

That's the dude who
you do not fuck with

because he's ready to die.

He's left it all behind.

That's the real power move.

I've got two Huskies at home.
Dogs, not chubby kids.

I've got two Husky dogs.

I've got a boy Husky
and a girl Husky.

And a lot of times
when I walk them,

people will point
to the boy Husky

and they'll be like,
"Hey, beautiful dog!"

Then they just walk away.

It's always that dog.
It's always the boy dog.

"Hey, beautiful dog.
Do-do-do-do!"

I just wanna start
yelling after them.

"Hey, they're both beautiful,
actually, dickhead.

"Even if one more
clearly on the inside,

"they have their charms."

But you would never do that
with someone's kids, right?

Walk up to somebody
with three kids, like,

"Hey, great-looking kid."
Just walk away.

The other two kids are like,
"We fight in the pit

"with sticks again tonight."

Yeah, you do, you creatures.
Get in there.

I think my favorite invention
to come out of the pandemic

are those talking dog mats.

Maybe you've seen this product.

I'll describe it and it'll sound
like I'm having a fever dream.

But this is an actual thing
that exists.

There are these mats
and they have different buttons on them

and each button
says a different word,

and you can train your dog
to press the buttons.

And it's like you're
chatting with them, right?

Like...
"Feed me now please."

Definitely a pandemic invention.

You know, someone was
locked up with their beagle.

And they're like, "Fuck,
if I don't find a way

"to talk to Skittles here..."

"...I'm gonna
French kiss a shotgun.

"So let's get down...

"Let's get down to the lab
and start tinkering

"on the old talking dog mats."

But I saw this product,
and I was like,

maybe I should get these
talking dog mats, right?

I'm home alone with my dogs.

I get depressed all the time.

It would be great to be able
to chat with my two dogs.

Then I remember what
asshole jocks my Huskies are.

They'd be like,
"Walk now, pussy, bitch."

I'm like, "Why did I put those buttons on the mat?

"That was shortsighted of me."

"Fuck you, beta cuck."

"Okay, I didn't read the description

"and I got
the alt-right buttons.

'I've ruined my dogs.
Great."

Or else I can't get
my dogs to do anything

unless I talk
to them like Scorpion from Mortal Kombat.

If I use my regular voice
for my dogs,

they could care less.
I'm like, "Guys, come in, bedtime.

"Hey, can't sleep outside
in negative-ten-degree weather, I told you. Bedtime."

They're like,
"Yeah, whatever, dildo."

But if I'm like,
"Get over here!", they're like,

"Okay, yeah. Now you're
talking our language."

And then I uppercut them
to the ceiling.

They love it.
It's tough love. It's horseplay.

They dig it.

I ran out of dog
poop bags recently.

Yeah, the crowds were like,
"How does the story end?"

I ran out of dog poop bags,
went to the store,

they were all out
of the unscented dog poop bags

that I usually buy.

So I had to buy lavender
scented dog poop bags.

What maniac came up with
lavender scented dog poo bags?

Finally, the tag team
of artificial lavender

and dog shit high-fiving
in my nose at last.

It's so gross.

It smells like somebody
took a dump in a bathroom

with a bunch of potpourri.

It's awful.

I'd rather they smell
like extra dog shit.

I'm already smelling that.

Just go all in
with that, please.

I don't even know who this
aromatherapy benefit's for.

Like, I'm down there
trying to clean up two gallons

of Husky diarrhea
out of the grass and like,

"Ooh...

"That lavender's hitting.
That's nice."

It's kind of like a spa day
just for one out here.

"Mmm. I needed this."
It's insane.

Sometimes I'll find
an unused bag in my back pocket

and I can just take it out
and rub it all over my face.

Like a cologne sample.

Mmm. Mmm-hmm.

I know I smell like
a Yankee Candle, don't I?

But it's not.
It's a dog poop bag.

Yeah, yeah!

No, they make them in lavender.

Okay. "You want some?

"Okay. Well, the offer stands.

"I've got
a whole roll back here."

My Huskies' second
favorite thing to do

right after the first,
which is to catch and kill

any small animal
that enters the yard,

but a close second,
is to surprise me

with a secret surprise
bonus shit the instant

I run out of poop bags.

Maybe some of you have a dog
with the same telepathic power.

It doesn't matter
what time of day.

It doesn't matter if they
just went two minutes ago,

they're, like, boom!
"Time to unhatch this weird bonus shit

"we've always got ready to go

"because this guy
just ran out of bags."

And I'll be honest
with all of you tonight,

if you hire me for,
like, an acting project

in film or television,

I'm gonna turn in a pretty solid
C, C-minus performance.

I'll just be candid
with you right now.

But, boy, you catch me
on the side of a busy road

with my dog shitting,
and I just ran out of bags,

get ready for the performance
of a lifetime.

Oh, my God, the physical acting
I will go through, like,

"What? No. What the fuck?

"Where are my bags?
I always have them.

"This is crazy."

I'm, like, patting my ankles.

Like, "Sometimes
they're in my bra."

I'm turning out my pockets,
like, "This is madness!"

I'm making eye contact
with every car going by

like, "I'm a bad person.
What the fuck?

"This is villainous shit."

I start talking to people
who aren't even around.

Like, "Yeah, I'm gonna come back
and clean this up later."

Like, what? Shut up.
No, you're not.

Yeah. Let me scamper home
and write down a poop IOU.

"I'll be back tonight
sneaking around the park."

Insane.

I have a hard time
exercising my dogs.

I take them for a walk.

They're like, "Yeah,
this isn't exercise for us."

I take them for a run.

They're like, "Okay, we're
walking a little bit faster.

"And it's funny that
this is hard for you.

"But still not exercise for us."

So I had this genius idea.

I have this belt that
I wear that I can connect

their leashes to. It's like
this dog sledding belt,

and I can just clip
their leashes into it.

And I was like, "I'm gonna
get my mountain bike out

"and I'm gonna put a dog
on each side of it

"and I'm gonna ride my bike.

"And my dogs can just run
as fast as they want next to my bike."

Now as soon as I said that idea,

some of you were
immediately like,

"Wow, what a fucking
terrible idea that is!" -

Holy shit!

At no point did
I have that thought.

At no point was I like, "Hey,
maybe sleep on this idea,"

or like, "Hey, it sounds like
you thought a lot of the pros

"of this idea.

"What could be some
of the possible cons of this idea?"

Nope. I was like,
"I can't believe it took me

"this long to figure this out.

"I finally cracked it.
What a life hack."

So I got the belt out.

I clipped the dogs to it,

hopped on my mountain bike
and off we went.

And at first, it ruled.

I'm not gonna lie to you.
It was great.

They're pulling
my ass everywhere.

We're just zipping around.
I barely even had to pedal.

It was like being on
an e-bike or something.

My neighbors are just
watching me go by like,

"This neighborhood
has never been whiter.

"This is some
peak white bullshit we're watching right now."

I'm just waving.
"Yay! Here we go."

Until one day, I'm at the park.

I'm just turning in some laps.

I'm just trying to tire
these two dickheads out.

We're just going around
and there's this couple

walking their dog towards us

and my dogs love
another dog. Oh, boy.

Do they love another dog.

And I was like, "You know what?

"I'm gonna get going so fast

"that my dogs won't
even have a chance

"to get distracted
by this other dog.

"Because we're just gonna
be going at top speed.

"So let's just hit
the afterburners.

"We're just gonna
blow right by this dog."

So I shift my bike.
I'm riding as fast as I can.

And we pull about
parallel with this dog.

I don't know.
It's about 60 feet away.

And as soon as we
pull parallel with it,

my two Huskies look over
and they're like, "Oh, shit.

"We got to go meet
that dog right now."

And they bolt
and eject me from my bike

like I'm in Top Gun.

I leave so quickly.

I'm just like zoink!

There's just, like,
a cartoon puff of smoke

in the outline of my body
over the bike.

I smash into the ground.
My dogs aren't done with me.

They're connected to my stupid
fucking dog sledding belt.

Remember?

So they proceed to pull my body
across the grass

like a dumpy Hefty bag
on its way to Goodwill.

They just drag me over
to this other dog.

And then they meet that dog
like nothing has transpired.

They're like, "Oh, hey,
you come to this park too?

"Oh, yeah. This is our park.

"Yeah. This is our regular park.

"Cool, man. Yeah, well,
let's have a sniff."

At no point did they look
behind them, like,

"Hey, check it out.

"We're dragging that asshole
from back home."

They could not have
given less of a fuck.

And I'm just lying there
on my side

in the fetal position.
like, "Oh, my God,

"did I just break
every bone in my body?"

I'm, like, wiggling my fingers.

I'm wiggling my toes.

Just doing
a full systems reboot.

And the couple
is standing right there,

and the dude
is standing over me.

And he's trying
so hard not to laugh.

He says...
"Dude, are you okay?"

And I was like,
"Just laugh, dude.

"Holy shit!"

I would laugh forever
if I saw this.

It would bring me endless joy.

And it was in that
moment I realized

what a gift I just
gave this couple.

This is gonna keep
them together forever.

I have glued them together.

Decades from now,
they could be in some fight.

Things are tense.
Maybe it's over.

Maybe this is the end.

All it'll take
is for them to be like,

"Hey, remember that
asshole we saw at the park

"with those two Huskies?"

"I do and our love is special.

"I love you so much."

That's gonna
do it for me, everyone.

Thank you so much
for coming out.

Thank you very much.