All language subtitles for Lara.Beitz.Stoppable.2025.1080p.WEBRip.x264.AAC-[YTS.MX]

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Ladies
and gentlemen, please welcome
to the stage, Lara Beitz!

Official YIFY movies site:
YTS.MX

Hollywood, my god!

Fuck, yeah, we got
some hotties with some bodies
in the house tonight,

looking good, like what I see.

We got some ankles
in this bitch, okay.

I saw a guy on a motorcycle with
a guitar strapped to his back.

I was like,
"Damn, how much pussy
is this guy trying to get?"

All of it? Shit.

Leave some for
everybody else, dude, damn.

Hold on to your pussies, ladies,
this guy's coming through,
watch out.

My goodness.

But in my head, I'm just like,
"How ugly is this guy
that he needs both?"

Probably has a bunch of
tattoos, too,

a sick-ass body, fucking loser.

Who here, just by applause,
who's been on
a motorcycle before?

Me too.

Been on a couple,
not a big deal.

Top speed, 25 miles an hour.

Thought I was going
to die the entire time.

But afterward, the guy's
just like, "It's fun, right?"

I'm like, "I peed on your ass."

Awful.

Dude, you don't
scare the shit out of me.

I live on
a third floor apartment.

They trimmed
the trees outside my place.

No email, no note,

just I look out my window,
feet away from me

is a goddamn guy
in my tree with a chainsaw.

I was like,
"Great, now I'm horny."

I had a ton of shit to do today.

Now I got to stand
here flirting with you.

That one scared me, dude.
I was like, "Jesus Christ,
I'm fucking naked.

"What are you doing up here?
Like, yeah, I took off
my clothes once I saw you,

but still."

"Stop looking at me."

No, he did look in,
but there wasn't much to see.

Just me and the cats.

Doing our day.

I have two cats so far.

The girl one is fat,

and everyone who's ever seen her
has felt the need to point
that out to me.

Which, I got this cat
when it was six years old.

She looks like fucking shit.

She has a piece
of her ear missing.

God knows where that went.

She has black shit
in her eyes at all times.

That's non-negotiable.

She has a snaggle tooth.

No one ever has shit
to say about any of that.

I'm just like, I didn't
do any of this to this cat.

This is what
she looked like when I got her.

This was a floor model.

They're like,
"Well, that's not healthy.
She's overweight."

Then don't fuck her.
What do you want from me?

You mind getting
off her case, please?

Let my cat exist in her body?

Sorry she won't make
the calendar this year.

You fucking asshole.

My boy cat needed
dental work recently.

That fucked me in the ass to
the tune of two goddamn grand.

Mm-hmm.

And they act like
you're a piece of shit

if you bat an eye at the price.

This lady's like,
"Well, he needs it."

Well, I need $2,000, bitch.

That's the conversation
that's being had right now.

Fuck me trying to keep
a roof over our heads,

even though Dusty has cavities.

You mind giving me 30 seconds
to come to terms with how
fucking fucked I am right now?

Unreal. It's like they
expect you to jump out
of your seat and be like,

two grand for my cat's teeth,

which I never thought about
in my entire life
up until this moment.

Fuck yeah, dude.

Make it three! I'll sell my car.

I am so sorry that I paused for
one second to think about it.

I was forgetting
I have a car that I can sell

to pay you for my cat's teeth.

Which, have you seen
a mouthful of cat teeth before?

They're the smallest
thing in fucking existence.

They have two pointy ones.

The rest of them
are grains of sand.

I'm like, what are
you talking about right now?

Turns out they're
more expensive than diamonds
if you go by what they wear.

That is true. That is true.

I was like, if you bring
that cat back out here

and his mouth isn't
filled with diamonds,

so help me, I will rip
this kitten poster
off the goddamn wall.

They gave me an itemized bill
for the care he'd received.

I was like, "You mind time
maybe asking me

how comfortable I think
we need to keep this cat?"

Because I feel like maybe
we could have done without
the satin pillow here on page 9.

$100 I paid for cat morphine.

That's street prices.

And they sent us home
with two little vials
of cat morphine.

And it made me nervous
because I am a drug addict.

I'm 10 years
clean and sober now.

Thank you, but I didn't
get that far by
keeping opiates in my home.

I was like, I don't know if I
should have this shit, honestly.

I was like, "Fuck it,"
I called the vet.

I was just like, "Yeah,
so first things first,
I do want to be crystal clear.

I'm not planning
to take my cat's medicine
to get fucked up.

But if I did,
what would happen?"

And I could hear the lady
like trying to figure out if
I was fucking with her or not.

She was just like,
"Uh, all right, well,
first of all, it's cat morphine.

It's chemically
a completely different drug.

We didn't just give you
a little bit of human morphine."

And I felt so stupid.

And then she was like,
"And also, you're not 8 pounds."

I was like, whoa, bitch.

Is it not human morphine,
or am I not eight pounds?

Because maybe if
it's not human morphine,

we don't even need
to talk about my weight.

Maybe if it's not
human morphine, you can
give me one moment to be like,

"Oh, okay, thank you so much.
That's plenty of information.
Let's end the call."

She was like, "I'm just saying,
even if you took
all of it at once...",

which, ding, ding, ding,
that's how I would do it.

If I'm taking my cat's medicine
to get fucked up,

I'm not going to
take it as directed.

I'm not going to be like,
"Oh, fuck yeah,
it's been six hours.

Time to party. Here we go."

She was like, "I'm just saying,
even if you took
all of it at once,

you probably still
wouldn't feel anything."

See, I knew you were going
to say something like that.

I can already feel it.

I need to know if I'm peaking.
I got a night to plan.

People hate cats, though, dude.
People will be like,

"If you died,
your cats would eat you."

I hope they would.

I'm dead, they're starving.

Ashes to ashes, baby.
Bon appetit.

Eat up, dude.
Or they'll be just like,
"Dogs are smarter than cats."

Who gives a shit?

I'm smarter than all of them.

They didn't get it
to help me with my taxes.

I got it because it's
a stuffed animal
that walks around.

It's hilarious.

I'm afraid of dogs, though.

I don't understand
how anybody isn't.

Some of them
are basically wolves.

And I hate when I tell people
I'm scared of dogs,

and they're just like, "No, you
just have to relax because
they can smell the fear."

I'm like, "Oh, that
is relaxing. Thank you.

So it'll only attack me if
I feel how I do feel right now?

Fitbit's about to
jump off my wrist

because it thinks
I'm working out too hard.

But oh, okay, I'll calm down

now that I know
I'm attracting the attack.

My girl cat has heartburn now,

so I have to give her
a fourth of a Zantac every day.

That's been
a waking fucking nightmare.

If you have to give a pill
to a dog, you put it in cheese.

The dog's like, "Cool, cheese,"
end of discussion.

If you have to give
a pill to a cat, the cat's like,

"Break all four of
my fucking legs, bitch."

"You want to get to me?
You're going to
have to go through me.

And I'm about to be ridiculous."

Slide tackling this
fucking animal every day.

Afraid I'm
going to snap its neck.

And by the time
I get her pinned down,
the pill is dust.

Have to rub it into her gums
like it's fucking cocaine.

They took her blood,
and the vet was just like,

"Well, she's
a little dehydrated.

Try to get
her to drink more water."

Oh, OK, I'll let her know.

How would I even begin
to attempt to communicate that
to this cat?

I'm like, she has
a bowl with water in it.

That's where I clock out, dude.

Honestly, one of her
two jobs every day is to
lap up a little bit of that.

If she can't handle that,
fuck her, truly.

Just about had
it with this shit.

He said if she doesn't stop
barfing, I have to get
her an ultrasound.

Those are $1,000.

I was like, let's
get one thing straight.

I didn't get myself
an ultrasound

when I was bleeding
out of my ass
for a month and a half.

I drove up to Ojai
and I saw a witch.

That's true.

She was a good witch.

She fixed my shit
for like a week.

Then the spell wore off.
I don't know what happened.

I thought that she was a doctor.

My friend kept
calling her Dr. M.

I thought I was driving
up there to see a specialist.

I got up there,
no degrees on the wall.

I was like, wait a second.
Doctors don't have wind chimes.

And a plug-in phone?
I know what this is.

I'm in a witch's hut.

She performed tests on me
that have never been seen
in a doctor's office.

She got my hand wet with,
swear to God, a makeup sponge.

She had me hold onto
this metal thing,

and then she
showed me lines on her computer.

She was like, "This one says
you have mold in your lungs.

This one means
you have candida everywhere.

This one says
your kidneys are fucked."

None of them are labeled.

I'm like, first of all,
this is a butt plug.

None of this is medical.

But she fixed my shit.

I got sick again
pretty quick after that.

Nice to have a break, you know.
What are you going to do?

I was talking to my mom.
My mom was like, "Are you
still doing the diarrhea?"

I'm like, what do you mean

"doing?"

This isn't an activity I chose.

It's a cross I bear.

You mean am I still
a victim of the natural disaster

that is my asshole? Yeah.

I remain a survivor.

They prescribed me
antibiotics at one point.

I went to pick them up.
Insurance wouldn't pay for them.

I was like, "All right,
well, how much are they
without insurance?"

$2,800 for
a course of antibiotics.

I was like, do you guys have
it where I've heard of people
sucking dick for pills?

Do you guys have like a dick
sucking line that can happen?

It'd be faster
than me earning $2,800.

This body of mine, man.

I tried learning how to do
the split six months ago,

so I'm in physical therapy now.

My hip, I was telling
my friend about it, and he was
just like,

"Do you have sciatica?"
I was like, I don't know.

He was like, well, if you had
sciatica, you would know.

I'm like, not if
I don't know what it is.

I wouldn't just like
intuitively know that.

And then he told me what it was.
I was like, "Oh, yeah, no,
I don't have that.

I would know."

I don't think
I have a good doctor, dude.

He wears sandals.

That's not a great sign.

Nothing says bottom
of your class in med school
like an open toe.

Last time I saw him,
his shirt had mushrooms on it.

I was like, why are you telling
me you do acid right now?

But he was the first
doctor to tell me I'm autistic.

I had regular people
telling me for years,

but he was the first doctor.

I didn't move my
arms when I walked.

For the first 25 years
of my life, your girl
was just cruising, dude.

Just not wasting
any energy on anybody.

If you couldn't have seen my
legs, you would have thought
I was on wheels, truly.

Just rolling in and
out of rooms, gliding.

You know why I didn't
move my arms when I walked?

Because you don't need to.

You walk with your legs.
I'm the fucking asshole?

For not swinging my shit around
for no reason everywhere I go?

You wanting to do that is just
left over from when we were
still on all fours.

Sorry I evolved.

But I started
swinging my arms around, too.

Doesn't come
naturally to me, though.

I had to learn how to
walk like a regular person

the way most people
learn the steps to a dance.

Because it's
opposite arm, opposite leg.

Once I get going, I'm fine.

Opposite arm, opposite leg.

You can't do same arm, same leg.
That's not good
enough for anybody.

Same arm, same leg,
people shit on you as fast
as they will for anything else.

Another one of my autisms
is I'm very smart
at, like, two things

and I'm stupid at
everything else.

And people don't know that,
so they have no patience
for my dumbness.

If you're obviously slow,
people are just like, "Oh,
that's okay, this is hard.

Good work,
I can tell you're trying."

But if you seem smart,
people are like, "What are you,
fucking stupid?

I'm like, yeah, I am, actually.
It's very challenging.

I'm not, like,
fucking with you, pretending
not to understand this.

I have a lot of
sensory issues, too.

I wear earplugs a lot.

Sometimes I need them when
I'm just with one other person,

and people don't like that.

I was hanging out with my buddy.

I tried to, like, sneak them in,

and he was just like,
"I'm sorry,
am I talking too much?"

I was like, "No, I'm just,
I'm sensitive to sounds."

And he was like, "Yeah,
you say that, but the only
sound I hear is me talking."

I was like, I don't
know what to tell you, man.

You're kind of backing
me into a corner on this one.

I like what I hear,
I'm just turning it down.

I don't know what to tell you.

But I made a woman cry at
my last day job I had before
I went full-time doing stand-up.

I was actually working with
autistic people,

which was part
of how I realized I was one.

I was like, we shouldn't both
be wearing earplugs right now.

But yeah, I made this
woman I worked with cry.

She was playing a song
right behind me,
and I asked her to turn it down.

I told her it sounded like
nails on a chalkboard,

and she put her guitar away, but
she was pretty hurt.

Stuff comes out of my mouth,
and it sounds way meaner
than it feels to me.

Like, I miss a lot
of social cues,
and it comes off the wrong way,

and I'll realize it way later
or when someone
tells me about it,

but I don't know
that I'm doing it.

So if you try to talk to me
after the show,
I will be weird as fuck to you.

That's true.
I won't want to be,
I try to be social.

I go to parties if I'm invited.

That wasn't
supposed to be the funny part.

But you have to if
you want to have friends.

Do I set a timer
for 60 minutes on my watch

and leave after
I've put in my hour?

Why, yes, I surely do.

Do I take bathroom breaks
when I don't have to pee?

Wouldn't be a party if I didn't.

But I'm there, baby.

I went to a party
and a guy asked me

if I would be more scared
if I was in the woods and
I came across a bear or a man.

And I was like,
a bear, obviously.

And he was like, "99% of
women have been saying a man."

And then this woman
was just like, "I would be
more afraid if I saw a man."

And I said, that's annoying
because I don't believe you,

which, great example of
something I didn't realize
was rude until...

the next day.

I was like, oh, you can't
just call people annoying.

And I left the party that night
being like,
"Oh, I made friends."

But she was just like,
"No, I would be
more afraid to see a man

because I know women who are
murdered by their partners."

I was like, okay, is the guy
in the woods your partner?

Because if it's not,
I would still be
more afraid of the bear.

Yeah, more men
kill women than bears.

We also interact with
a lot more men than we do bears.
Don't we?

If you went one day
where you saw as many bears...

as you normally see guys,

you would die that day.

More cars kill people than
bears, too,

because we're not out here
riding bears to work.

We have sex with men.
Try fucking a bear.

Let me know how that goes.

A bear would literally
eat your pussy.

You wouldn't be more afraid
if every guy in here was a bear?

I would.

How the fuck am I supposed to
make these things laugh, right?

If you say you're more afraid
of men than bears,

I hope you get attacked by both.

Anyway, that's me at a party.

I have the self-awareness
to know when I'm being
weird as fuck,

but I don't have enough
to know how not to be.

I think it's that feeling of,
like, if you get way too high,

when you're just like,
"All right, hold the eye
contact till it feels bad."

"Once it feels bad,
that's the right amount."

"Oh, shit, what if I swung
too far in the other direction,

and now I'm being
weird that way?
Look away. Oh, my God."

"Look at how much they're doing.
Do that much to that guy."

And by then, the guy asked
me a question a minute ago.

I'm just standing there.

I was really nervous
when I got tested for autism,

because I was like,
I better have it.

What if I don't?

There's just no reason for this.

The doctor writes up my report,
and she's like,

"Yeah, it turns out
you do understand social cues."

"You're just a weird bitch."

I whooped fucking ass on
the puzzles part of the testing.

She was like, "Wow,
you finished that one?
Most people don't get that far."

I was like,
"I know, what's next?"

And then proceeded to
bomb balls at every other one.

Puzzles are my special interest.
I do 1,000-piece puzzles
every day

because the bigger
ones don't fit on my table,

and the smaller ones
are for babies.

And people get them
for me as gifts,

but they don't always know
what kind to get me.

Like, they'll get me
a big landscape with a huge sky.

Fuck a sky.

Do you know how hard it is to
assemble 750 blue puzzle pieces?

I'm not that autistic.

Or they'll get me one
that's like 350 pieces.

I'm like, "Oh, this is
gonna be a cool 10 minutes."

I take them on
the road with me when I travel.

I'll check
a bag full of puzzles.

I'm not allowed to do them
at my sister's house anymore

because she's an awful bitch
who doesn't understand me.

My sister's the one person
who just doesn't believe
I'm autistic.

She's like, "I think you're
just really set in your ways."

I'm like, that's
what autism is, bitch.

I rolled in here
with a checked suitcase
full of puzzles.

That's clinical.

But I can't do them
at her house anymore

because my nephews
are crybaby tattletales.

"Aunt Lara, you're scary
to do puzzles with."

Well, I wouldn't be if
you didn't fuck everything up.

I'm sorry, you can't
just start working on
the middle of a puzzle

before you've turned
all the pieces over
and assembled the border.

Am I out of my goddamn mind?

Am I out of my goddamn mind?

I thought
we lived in a civilization.

You're getting pissed at me
because your twat mom
raised you wrong.

This whole thing
was shot to shit already
before I flipped the table.

They came and they visited me,

and they live in
the woods in Wisconsin,

so they had never seen,
like, stoplights before.

So we had to teach
these two little boys

that the orange hand
means "don't cross the street."

So we had them at every
intersection being like,

"White guy,
that means it's safe."

It's like, shut up.

It's true,
but you can't say that.

We went to
the Natural History Museum
and saw the butterflies exhibit.

Butterflies are crazy, dude.

Imagine going into a chrysalis.

Imagine just one day
just being like,
"I feel like I need to do this.

This just feels right to me."

And then it's just,
like, pregnant with itself.

Just like a booger
in a cobweb for a while.

I don't know if it
thinks it's dead or
what it goes through in there.

And then one day you emerge
a beautiful butterfly.

Barely even had a body before.

Could scoot like ten feet a day.

Now it can fly.

You get to land on people,
watch them think it's a sign.

Just like, "Oh, look,
it's my grandmother
watching over me."

Nah, bitch, I'm a bug.

Only thing I'm watching over is
these flowers I'm about to suck.

No, I love those little kids.

It's gotta be embarrassing to
be a parent sometimes, though.

Because all little
kids freak out sometimes.

They have tantrums.
That's just what they do.

Unless you abuse them,
which you shouldn't.

I hate when I come across
an adult who's just like,

"My parents hit me,
I turned out fine.

No, you didn't.
You're an asshole.
Everyone hates you.

I mean, if I had a kid,
I would probably hit it.

But it's not
because I believe in that.

It's just poor impulse control.

They're very noisy.

I feel like we're supposed
to like the sound of kids
playing,

but no one talks about
the fact that the sound
of kids playing is shrieking.

They just shriek
irrelevant shit over and over.

I'm meditating in my place,
outside I can hear,

"You guys, it's over here!"

"It's over here, you guys!"

"You guys!"

"You guys!"

Shut the fuck up!

God damn it, dude!

Little kids will do
everything in their power
to get your attention

and then show you the most
underwhelming shit you ever saw

in your whole entire life.

"Look at this. Watch this.
Wanna see what I can do?

"Watch me. Are you watching?
Check it out.
I'm gonna show you something.

Are you ready? Okay, look.

"I know how to do this. Watch."

Don't cheer for that.

That's the problem.
That's what we do.

I do it too.

I'm like, "Oh, wow, cool."

Because I've never been able
to say to it what I would say
if it was my kid,

which is just like,

"Look...

I love you,

so it's okay
that you showed that to me

because I'm into
your whole thing.

But you don't need
to show that to anybody else

because basically everybody can
do that pretty much,

so it's not bad,
it's just not
gonna impress anybody.

Okay, go play.

I have a mom.

She has begun
trolling me on Facebook,

which I don't appreciate
for a single second.

I post about my shows
on social media,

and her friends commented
that they wanted to come see me.

My mom replied
to their comment and said,

"You're not gonna like it."

I'm like, "Mom, do you
mind not actively
fucking with my money."

Is that a line
we could draw, perhaps?

Like, if you're gonna say
shit like that, can you at
least do it from a fake profile

so people can't tell that
it's my goddamn mom
saying how bad I suck?

"Oh, no one knows I'm your mom."

I'm in your profile
picture, goddammit!

We have the same last name.

Your profile picture
is me with an old lady.

They can tell.

"I don't know how
to make a fake profile."

Same as how
you make the real one.

Just don't put
your real shit in.

I'll do it for you right now.

I'll make
you as many as you want.

This ends tonight.

Bring me your Kindle.
Where are your glasses?

I believe that she doesn't
know how to make herself
a fake profile

because she is
so bad with technology.

I'm like, this is impossible.

She sends me blank texts.

It won't even let you do that.

I'm like, how?
Are you typing out spaces?

What are you doing?

How is this possible?

But she knows her way
around Facebook just fine.

That's for sure.
Wish she didn't.

"My friend asked me
if you have bad teeth

because you always smile
with your mouth closed
in your pictures."

Oh, did you ask her
if she's an old bitch?

Because she is.

My teeth are fine,
thank you very much.

I go to the dentist
every six months.

That was not always the case.

It used to be if someone told me
they went to the dentist
every 6 months,

I was like, you think
you're better than me?
Fuck you!

Every time I would go,
I would be like, this is it.

I'm going to start
going every six months.

I'm going to start
investing in myself.

By the end of the visit,
I'd be like,
fuck this, fuck you.

I will see you in 3 years.

Last place I went
before my dentist,

now they wanted to
charge me $500 to fill a cavity.

Kiss my fucking ass!

What are you filling it with,
Elvis Presley's cum?

Can't you just melt
down a penny or something?

Get that in there and shit.

Use something less precious.

You guys were using
tin for the longest time.

Doesn't have to
match the other teeth.
A back one, please.

I didn't even know
I had that tooth

until the dentist
pointed it out to me.

He showed me in
his little circle mirror.

I was like,
I'll be damned, who's this?

Never seen that tooth
before in my life.

I'm not going to invest in it.

Like the most I'll give you
is $20 to knock it out
of my head right now.

I'll never think about
it again as long as I live.

I told him to fuck off.
I walked out.

That is true. I didn't even pay.

It was a free exam,
but I still didn't pay.

I went and got a second opinion
from my dentist I have now.

He said I didn't
even have a cavity.

How fucked up is that?

And if I had had one, he was
only going to charge me $250.

That's Dr. J.
That's my goddamn guy.

I see him every 6 months.

I would see him every morning,
if you know what I mean.

Dr. J can get it.

He's a tasty treat, dude.

He didn't know
who he was dealing with, no sir.

He leaned me back in his chair.
I showed him my little teeth.

He was like,
"You have great teeth."

I was like, I will fuck you.

Tell that to Gladys, Mom.

My therapist told me
to go no contact with my mom,

so I stopped talking to her.

To my therapist, not to my mom.

I'm not going to
stop talking to my mom.

My therapist is like,
"She doesn't have
any boundaries."

She was born in 1955.

We invented boundaries in 2018.

She's not catching up, dude.

Maybe we try and just
meet her where she's at.

My mom could kill my boyfriend
and I would still visit
her in prison.

I would be pissed, you know.
Not saying I wouldn't.

I would use my "I feel"
statements I've been
learning in therapy.

I'd be like, Mom, I felt
very angry and sad
when you killed my boyfriend.

But I got some cigarettes up
my ass with your name on, toots.

She'd be like, "What?
Why'd you bring
them in your ass?"

"They let us have those here."

"I'm not smoking cigarettes
that've been in
your fucking ass."

"You out of your mind?
They probably smell like shit."

"They're for sure broken."

But yeah, she had surgery.
She just beat breast cancer.

They removed the boobs.

Good as new.

They even offered her new boobs.

I was like, okay, Mom, here's
where we make our money back.

Now we're cooking with gas.

Let's have a conversation.

I was excited for her.

I wanted to help her pick
some out of the catalog.

I was like, let's get
you a set of juicy nasties.
Here we are.

Now's your time to shine.
Let's get you some of the ones
with the crack down the middle.

Here we go.

I was excited for her.
She didn't even want them.

She was like, no, I'm fine.

But they were
included in the surgery.

Insurance was
going to pay for them.

I was like, shit,
I'll take the tits.

No one else wants them?

Fucking fix my ass up.

All I'm saying is ask
the other people at your table
if someone else wants your fries

before you tell
the waitress not to bring them.

I'll take those tits.

The nurse was like,
"It doesn't work that way."

All right, fuck you too, bitch.

And that is the second time
I didn't get big boobs
from my mom.

I have a friend
who's getting a breast reduction
because she has back problems.

But I have back problems.
I don't even have giant boobs.

I'm like, I'm pretty sure that's
just like 80% of adults, dude.

What makes you so sure
that's the boobs' fault?

Awful confident in
ourselves, aren't we?

I'm like, what if they
make them small
and your back still hurts?

Something to think about.

Because I got news
for you, sweet cheeks.

If you don't like
having a bad back
and big juicy titties,

you are going to hate
having a bad back
and a flat chest.

That's some
real shit right there.
It's a risk.

I would be a bad friend
not to say that to her.

And I can't wait
till after the surgery.

She's just like, "Damn, dude,
my shit is still fucked."

I'm like, yeah,
I thought about that.

Can you imagine?
She gets it done and then
later on she's like,

"Yeah, it turns out I was
just wearing the wrong shoes."

And she walks away
with ugly shoes, tiny titties.

That's why me personally,
if I had huge boobs
and a bad back,

I'd be like, well,
I guess you're
doing surgery on my back.

I lost my boobs
in the war on obesity.

I'm down over 50 pounds now.

Thanks. Yeah,
I thought I was done.
I've been feeling good.

I'm in the weight range
my doctor gave me.

But I was working with
an elderly comedian recently.

That's relevant,
give me a moment.

And he was just like,
"Lara, you look incredible.
Have you lost more weight?"

I was like,
yeah, thank you so much.

He goes,
"What do you got, 10 more?"

Uh-huh.

I was like, well, I do now.

No, what I actually did was
I burst out laughing

and I said,
I can't believe you
just fucking said that to me.

And that was when he realized
he shouldn't have said it.

Like, he's not a bad guy.

I know him, he was
trying to be supportive.

So then he tried
to dig himself out.

He was just like,
"Oh, I only ask because
a long time ago

I used to lift girls
and I can't lift them
if they're over 120.

So I want you to lose more
weight for selfish reasons."

I was like,
you gotta stop talking, man.

It's just gotta end right now.

Being liftable by
a 76-year-old man is not
one of my health goals.

I can't eat jack shit anymore.

I was watching a commercial,
it had stuff in it, I was like,
oh, I could probably eat that.

It was like chicken, rice,
vegetables, they spun it up,

it was dog food.

I bought a case,
it's not bad stuff.

Turns out I'm
an Alpo gal, who knew?

Try to keep the wet food
to the weekends,
you know how it is.

Because I have
these digestive issues.

I've been having
this problem when I fly.

Anyone else, just by applause,
do you get gas when you fly?

Oh, okay.

It's so many
more people than that.

I know, because I Googled
it when we landed,

I barely had to type in the W.

And Google was like,
"Why do I get gas when I fly?"

I'm like, yeah.

Word for word,
that is what I was gonna type.

Turns out it's an air pressure
thing, like how your ears pop,
your butt wants to pop too.

But it can't, until you land.

And then I set myself free.

I don't give a fuck.
It is medical at that point.

I just deflate my way
to baggage claim, truly.

It was like
a balloon someone let go of.

I can hardly keep my
little legs underneath me.

I'm like, "Shit,
carousel 5 already."

And then you use those toilets
they got at the airport
that flush themselves,

which I think I prefer to flush.

The timing on those
gets real aggressive.

It snatched the toilet paper
out of my goddamn hand.

Like, could I have
a second, please,

before you rip
my lips off?
Shit.

I fainted of autism
on a flight recently.

I got...

I got overstimulated,
and it was too much.

And I always
freak out when I fly.

I give myself my sky talk,
and I was giving it to myself.

I was just like, "You're
just a person in a chair.

That's all you are.

You're just sitting.
Couldn't fuck
this up if you tried.

I know it feels like
you're not breathing,

but we know that you are,
because it always
feels like this,

and you've never died,
so we're fine.

This is just a feeling."

And then I started losing
consciousness,

and I was like,
"Oh, no, I am dying this time."

But by the time
I realized what was happening,

I was too weak to push the
flight attendant call button.

I kind of just flapped
my hand on it,

and I had to ask
the lady next to me to help me,

but I didn't want
to tell her I was sick

because I didn't want her
to think I was going
to barf on her.

So I said, "I'm going to die."

And then I said,
"Help, I'm dying."

And then I fainted onto her.

And I don't know
how long I was out,

but I woke up to
the sound of her being like,

"Yeah, she said
she was going to die."

I wish I could take something
for that anxiety, but I can't.

People are just like,
"Xanax is awesome."

I'm like, yeah,
it sounds fucking awesome.

I will burn my
life to the ground.

I can't do drugs that feel good.

I can't drink.

I bit a guy back in '08.

That was alcohol and
drug-related, needless to say.

That was my whoopsie-daisy.

I now know that it was
wrong of me to bite that guy.

But at the time, it felt
like the right thing to do.

I remember it too.

I wasn't even blacked out.
That's what's fucked up.

I remember being at the
crossroads and choosing that,

being just like,
"I am either going to bite
this man not at all,

or very hard."

And I went in. What can I say?

I honestly don't even have
a great joke that goes along
with that.

I'm just trying to
stay ahead of that situation.

Because he took
a picture of the bite mark.

He could post that any day.

And if he does,
I want people to be like,

"Yeah, she talks about
biting that guy all the time."

He told me he was going to
show the picture to the police

unless I shared
my food stamps with him.

You had some dark patches there.

But it scared me.
I didn't know what I would do,

because you really can't
talk your way out of
a bite mark.

If you looked at my mouth
and you looked at his arm
with your regular people eyes,

you'd be like,
"Yeah, that's your mouth.
You bit him."

I figured if he did call
the cops, I would just be like,

"Yeah, actually, he pushed his
arm into my mouth really hard."

"His arm hurt my mouth."

"I was going to call
you guys, but I'm not a bitch."

Haven't bit anybody since then,
but no one wants to hear about
that, do they?

Bite one guy,
it's the talk of the town,

but you never get any credit
for the guys you don't bite.

Do you think I haven't
wanted to bite a guy since 2008?

Dream on.
I want to bite
a different guy every day.

I also got arrested
when I was drinking and using,

which you're not
supposed to do either.

I was so fucked up
when that happened
that when the lady woke me up

and told me I could leave,
I asked if I could stay.

She was like, "What?
No, this isn't a hotel."

I was like,
then why did I pee the bed?

I still like being around
other people who are fucked
up, though.

That's hilarious every time.

I was doing shows
out of town with my buddy.

We were watching a murder
documentary in the hotel,

and the name of the hotel
in the documentary was
the same as where we were.

And he was high.

I thought he was going
to freak out and get paranoid.

No. He goes, "I think they just
change it to wherever you are."

I was like,
I don't think so, man.

I'm like, you think
they're showing a different,
specific building

to everybody
who's watching this?

I'm like, God,
I wish I could be in your world.

I don't watch too
much of the murder stuff.

I like to keep it light,
keep it comfortable.

I just re-watched Annie.
That movie rules, dude.

Who fucks with Annie?

No one's having
gas on the plane,

everyone loves Annie?

Interesting crowd of liars.

It's a good movie, though, dude.
I watched that movie
when I was a little kid.

I was just like,
Miss Hannigan is so mean.

I watched
that movie as an adult.

Fuck those kids.

Horrible little street urchins.

Miss Hannigan is taking
care of all of them by herself.

She walks into the room,
they put a rat down
the front of her dress,

and then they're like,
"Miss Hannigan drinks."

Yeah. Cause of you,
you little bitch.

You're ruining her life.

Miss Hannigan was about to have
sex with Mr. Bundles,
the laundry guy.

A kid popped out of the closet.

That's the villain.

Imagine you are taking care
of like 100 little kids
all by yourself.

I really, I want you
to take a moment,
go there in your bodies.

Imagine the exhaustion.

Now imagine you are woken up
in the middle of the night
by the sound of them

performing a choreographed
song and dance

about how much they hate you.

Fuck those kids.

"Miss Hannigan,
we're having hot mush again?"

Bitch, you're a homeless child.

That is your situation
on this earth.

What are
you bringing to the table?
Fucking nothing, that's what.

Except a bad attitude.

It's the Great Depression.

She's probably getting
a dollar a month
to take care of all your asses.

You think she's in
the back fixing you crab legs?

Fuck off!

People shit on Miss Hannigan.

And I'll tell you why,
right here
and right now, tonight.

It's because she was
a single woman back in the day,

and she was pretty ugly.

And they did
that in The Wizard of Oz too.
The Wicked Witch of the West.

Before she got spun up
in the twister, she was
just an ugly schoolteacher.

She was, in the beginning.
She rode her bike
up to Aunt Em's farm.

She was like, "Hey, Dorothy,
I noticed you and your dog been
coming onto my farm.

Your dog's been
eating my crops."

That's a perfectly
reasonable grievance.

In Dust Bowl-era Kansas,
of all times and places,

see these jokes got a little bit
of history to them too.

This poor woman probably
used all of her water
to grow one tomato

and then Toto ate it.

I would have
flipped the fuck out.

Some big titty teenager
wanders onto my farm,

lets her dog eat my food.

I would have been like,
"Hey, asshole,

see what happens if you
ever come back on my land.

Here's a hint,
I will fucking kill you."

My friend started dating
a magician,

so that can't
possibly end soon enough.

He does magic the way that like,
a guy will bring an acoustic
guitar to a party.

Where we're just like, oh,
we're watching your performance
now, okay.

And my friend
doesn't even like magic, dude.

She was high,

and he performed
a magic trick for us,

and when it got
to the punchline,

or the ta-da part,
I don't know what
it's called for magic.

When it got to
the point of the trick,
my friend threw up.

I was just like,
"Whoa, is she barfing up
her card right now?"

He didn't laugh, I was
like, yeah, this guy's gotta go.

I don't like getting
relationship advice
from my single friends,

because their shit
is a shit show.

I won't fuck a guy
until we're exclusive.

That's just what I need to do
for my personal sanity,

and my friends think
that that's insane.

They're just like, "Well,
what if you get
to really like the guy

and then you find out
the sex is bad?"

I'm like, I would
rather have that than
what you've been doing,

which is liking the sex
and then finding
out the guy's bad.

My one friend has been
crying to me about this man
for over a year.

He still doesn't
want a relationship.

I'm like, then stop fucking him.

What are we
talking about right now?

If I put my hand
on a hot stove and it burns me,

and then I keep
my hand on that stove
for over a year,

that doesn't make
the stove an asshole.

That's on me
for fucking a stove.

I mean, yeah, you can still get
fucked over by someone you've
taken the time to get to know,

but me, I like to
know who's fucking me over.

Someone you don't know
fucks you over,
you're like, "What happened?

I thought we were
having such a nice time.
I thought he liked me."

Someone you know fucks you over,
at least you can be like,

"Man, that is so Keith.

Typical, typical, typical.
This guy."

I don't like getting advice
from my married friends either

because their shit's always
the most condescending shit
I ever heard in my whole life.

You just have to love yourself

first and then the right person
will come into your life.

I've been loving myself
this whole time, bitch.

That's why I haven't married
any of the men I've dated.

Uh-huh.

I got proposed to
once like 15 years ago.

I was still living in Milwaukee.
A guy proposed to me.

I said no because I knew
that we weren't right together

and I knew I deserved to
be happy.

I did think there would be
a second proposal at some point
in my life,

I got a little bit of
egg on my face there, but...

Yeah, my married friend
was just like,

"You know, when it's
the right person for you,

you won't have that nervous
feeling in your stomach."

I'm just like, "Yeah, not if
you settle for a fucking dork."

"Kevin makes me feel so safe."

Oh yeah, that's
because Kevin's ugly as fuck.

You are safe.

That dude's not going to leave
you and he's not going to cheat
on you, he can't.

No one else wants to fuck your
claymation-looking-ass husband.

You're all proud,
he's out here looking like
God didn't finish him.

I watched my
friend's baby be born.

That was crazy.

It was the most beautiful thing
I have ever seen in my life.

No. It was nasty as hell.

Why do people say that?
They're just like,
"He's perfect."

I'm like, "Ugh, looks like
he was dipped in a parfait."

But I saw it,
because the dad got there late.

He got there when
the baby was coming out.

He took one look,
turned white as a sheet, goes,

"I can't do this,"
and left the room.

I was like, what the fuck?

We can leave?

Why have I been standing
here traumatizing myself?

When I think about now though,
I'm just like,

did she ask me
to watch it come out?

I don't think she did.

I'm pretty sure I could
have stayed north of the sheet.

She would have been fine with
me supporting her from there.

I don't think
she was like, "Look at it."

I mean, I get why I did, though.

I'd been there for hours.
Conversation was
an absolute standstill.

That's where
everybody else was looking.

I was like, "All right, fine,
I'll watch the show."

When's the next time I'm
going to see a baby be born?

Turns out, never,
if I have anything
to say about it.

My other friend just had a baby,

and she told me she didn't tear.

I was like, oh, I didn't ask.

If we're talking about
your pussy right now, all right,

we're not close at all.

Also, you seem proud but like...

how big was your pussy?

Hell of a canal
you're working with there.

Damn, dude.

I'm not a gynecologist, but
I've seen kids' heads before.

Bigger than most pussies, right?

If anything,
I would start lying.

Tell people you did tear.

But she's freaking out now,
though, because she found out

that her husband
was cheating on her.

I know.

I don't think I would ever
catch a guy cheating on me

just because
I'm not smart enough.

I'd be like, when is
he going to have time to cheat?

He's been working
till midnight every night.

But, yeah, she saw
this bitch's number
kept popping up on his phone,

which, just change
the bitch's name.

Put "Aunt" in front of it.
That's all you got to do.

Oh, now she's Aunt Stacy.
Nobody's fighting about that.

Except I feel like you guys
would find a way to fuck
that up, too.

You'd be like, "Hey,
who the fuck is
Aunt Big Titties?"

Thank you so much, everybody.
Good night!

Stop it. Stop it.

Thank you.

Thank you so much.