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[Amy Schumer] Rachel, this is a big deal for you.

It's me presenting your special.[Rachel Feinstein] Right.

[Amy] I know what you're wondering.

Do I feel like I've paved the way for women?

Like, I mean... [laughing]

Yeah. Yeah.

So where'd you get the-- the, um, those strawberries?

You know what? I don't know.

People always just put, like, a ton of shit in my green room.

Right.It's so sweet.

What if I had a flower allergy?

I'm in here sneezing my dick off,

but luckily, they're beautiful and I don't.

What'd you get?

Uh, they gave me some of those sunflower seeds,

you see, in the pile over there.

And, um, they gave me a do-rag and some soup.

Oh, you should get flowers and expensive wine

and chocolates instead.

Yeah, it would be nice.

And I want to give you some...

Bleh!

But I'm just-- I'm not knowing

how I'm gonna feel after the show,

so I'm gonna have to hang on to these.

I'm so hungry.[strained] Yes, you are.

All right. Do I look perfect?

Yeah.Okay.

Have a great my-your special.Okay.

Good luck.Mm.

Okay...

[sighs]

♪♪

[cheering and applause]

Thank you!

Oh, my God!

Wow! Thank you.

Thank you for coming out, you guys made a great choice.

I am so proud

to be presenting this special to you.

I am so honored to be the one to bring her out.

This comedian is not only my best friend,

she is literally my all-time favorite comedian.

Please give it up for Miss Rachel Feinstein!

[cheering and applause]♪♪

Thank you!

It's so good to be here.

Um, thank you, Amy.

Here's what a great friend Amy is.

I, um, I recently sent

a dirty picture of myself to the wrong person, um...

It's because the guy I'm with has the same first name

as the guy I accidentally sent the picture to.

And I get lazy, 'cause, like, I try to take pictures

when I go away, you know, just so that he has something

to beat to until I get back home again.

But I just start doling 'em out without checking them first.

So I sent it to the wrong guy

and I don't even know him very well and he's married

and he has kids-- it was horrifying.

It was the most humiliating moment of my life.

And it-- yeah, it wasn't even a good one.

Like, if it was a hot one, I'd be embarrassed,

but maybe secretly, like, a little proud.

You know, like, okay.

But it was, like, jacked up, not in a good way.

The underwear was just real slovenly.

It was, like, the last clean pair I had, clearly.

And there was some debris by my foot

that I noticed after I sent it.

There were some coins lying there and...

and a receipt

and a knotted-up USB cord.

It was disgusting.

And the guy I sent it to,

I don't even know him very well.

I was, like, horrified.

And I told Amy.

I called her up and I'm like,

"You're not gonna believe who I just sent this

disgusting picture of my crotch to."

And I'm like, "There's muffin by my foot and a receipt."

And she's like, "What did you buy?"

I'm like, "That's the question?"

And then she goes,

"Well, if it makes you feel any better,

I'll send him one, too."

And I was like, "Thank you so much."

I'm like, "But it can't be a hot one.

"You understand that, right?

"Like... like, yours cannot be the example

"of what a hot woman sends

and then I send this gangrenous, jacked-up one."

She's like, "I promise,

it'll be fucked up, not in a good way."

So she just sent him a picture of her crotch

in these sort of olive green baggy sweatpants.

And there was just one hand

sort of gently resting near her "vadge" area.

Just one stationary hand,

catty-corner to her vadge.

And then there was a long, thin mustard stain

down the right leg.

It was one of the most beautiful things

anyone's ever done for me.

So this guy's wife is probably going through his phone

right now, like, "Holy shit.

"My husband is cheating on me

"with the most heinous women imaginable.

Like, who are these foul truck stop waitresses?"

She's probably like, "I don't even know if I should bother bringing this up.

He's clearly never gonna leave me for either of these pigs."

I got a dick pic recently.

[audience oohing]Um... I know.

You never get a dick pic when you're expecting one.

It's never...

it's never, like, you're checking your inbox,

like, where the hell is that cock?

It was supposed to be here four hours ago.

That's why dick pics are hilarious.

They're just very jarring.

Just this rogue dick in the middle of your day.

It's foolish.

I was just looking at a beautiful tree

and then I saw it come in.

I'm like, oh, dear, there's a cock.

It just snaps you back into things.

I think they're hilarious 'cause they're just so unnecessary.

It's like, we already know the dick is there

if we choose to call upon it.

We don't need, like, a dirty little reminder.

And guys always look very stern for some reason

whenever they send dick pics, they get very serious, you know?

I don't know why you have to look like a principal

while you're holding your dumb dick.

"That tool was just standing there

just really letting me know I was in trouble," you know?

It's different for you guys, like, if you get a picture

of a naked woman, that's exciting, you know?

Because it means something important.

It means that you might be inside of her soon, you know?

It's good news.

But, yeah, we already know that dick is there.

It's always just littered about.

The street is littered with dicks.

That's what I'm gonna call the special, by the way,

"The Street is Littered with Dicks."

Yeah, dick isn't important.

That's why you can never use dick as an excuse.

If you called up your friend and you were, like,

late to his birthday dinner or something.

You could be like, "Dude, I'm really sorry I'm late,

but I think I'm gonna get some pussy,"

and he would understand, you know?

But if I called up my friend

on some important occasion in her life...

some moment that she needed me to be there for her...

And I was like, "Listen, um...

"I don't know if I'm gonna be able to make it tonight.

It looks like I might be able to get my hands on some dick."

She would be like,

"The street is littered with dicks."

I don't know if anybody does this, but I like to

look at people's Facebook pages regularly

and just sort of judge the dumb shit they post on Facebook

'cause it makes me feel like a better person.

Yeah.

What I've been doing lately is I'll just take a picture

of someone's status and then I mail it out to my other friends.

I'm like, "Look what this dickhead just put on Facebook."

And then I go back to bed.

I'm like, I've judged someone, I think I've done enough for the day.

I think a lot of people don't know what Facebook is.

I think that's the problem.

I think some people think that Facebook is, like,

some sort of a God that you tell

your darkest secrets to every hour.

They're like, "Finally, I've found an all-encompassing space

"I can litter my most confusing and personal thoughts

throughout the day."

Yeah, it's never the people you think, either.

I became friends with my accountant.

He seemed like a reasonable man.

I've been looking at his statuses

and I think he's in a real dark place right now.

His last status was just,

"I've never felt so alone and furious in my entire life."

I'm like, Jesus Christ, Russell!

You sure you can handle my 2015 returns?

And then a few hours later,

there'll be, like, a picture of some pasta that he ate.

I'm like, okay, he stabilized, thank God.

I think a lot of people really think

that they're gifting people with their daily Facebook thoughts.

Like, they really think they're stepping up

onto some sort of, like a Facebook balcony,

just doling these-- this brilliance out

to all the peasants, you know, like, they're some sort

of a Lord, like, "Here you are, you're welcome, peasants.

Now you know how to think. I'll lead you."

It's always some pointless bullshit, too.

There's this one guy and his--

his Facebook statuses infuriate me.

His last status, he just wrote,

"We need to put an end to genocide

once and for all, people."

That's what he gave us.

I'm like, Thank you so much

for you controversial stance on genocide.

I was staunchly pro-genocide

before I read your shattering Facebook exposé.

He has no idea I'm in this rage cycle with his Facebook page.

Like, every morning, I get up--

I don't even remember how I know him.

I think we might've worked at a pizza place together

when I was like 15.

Now, literally, every morning,

I leap to his page before even brushing my teeth

and I'm like, what the fuck is it now, Kevin?

I'm so sick of your bullshit!

God damn it! Shit!

The problem is, like, people like this shit

and that person thinks they're a genius.

There needs to be another choice besides "like" or "dislike."

You need to be able to choose, "I now think you're unstable."

Or, like, "I was considering sleeping with you,

"but after your genocide post,

you won't be getting a whisper of puss from me."

That's how I dole out pussy, you guys, in whispers.

Just a dash of puss.

Another thing he does that makes me so angry

is he'll write some long, like, just pointless bullshit.

And then at the end, he'll be like,

"This will be all I'll be saying on this subject.

This is my final statement today."

Like, to announce that, like,

"I won't be responding to any comments beneath."

I'm like, you're not the president.

There's not a press corps

just begging for more of your daily bullshit.

For the love of God, shut up.

And a lot of people like to give you constant updates

about some private medical procedure

their relative is going through.

It's just such a confusing instinct.

And then out of boredom,

I'll just find myself following this shit.

I don't even know this guy and I'm now I'm tracking

his aunt's gastric bypass surgery.

He's like, "Pam has stabilized.

The surgery was a massive success."

I'm like, well, are there any pictures?

Where's Pam?

And there's just a picture of his aunt unconscious,

drooling on an operating table.

She has no idea that he's been live-Facebooking

her entire surgery.

I went out with this guy recently,

he wasn't a douche, but he was a tool.

I feel like there's an important difference.

I think a douche is worse than a tool.

A douche is, like, some guy named Chad

and his parents have a lake house

and he likes to screw girls there, like, side by side,

next to his best friend Tucker and they high-five

while they're banging 'em, you know?

Like, a douche is the kind of guy that doesn't even like

to softly hold women.

[lowered] Like, he's like, "I don't gently touch women, bro.

"I'm not gay, all right?

"I ram 'em next to my best friend

"and we hold hands while we're nailing 'em.

You know I can't bang chicks unless I can smell you, Tucker."

I've never understood that, why men need to fuck side by side.

Like, why do you have to make some sort of a playdate

out of it?

It seems like you're slowly trying to edge the woman

out of the equation.

But I feel like a douche is worse than a tool.

You know, a douche is a dick.

I don't really have a problem with a tool.

A tool is just like a kindly moron,

You know, like...

This guy was dumb, but I wanted to like him.

You ever been out with somebody, you just need to like them.

Just 'cause you're lonely, you just need this person

to be better than they really are.

Like, I just wanted somebody I could, you know,

prop up and take to a wedding if I had to and...

He just wanted me to put out, so we were working together

on this shared mission for the evening.

And I've had whole relationships just based on that idea

that I didn't want to be alone.

You can trick yourself into thinking

you're in a good relationship if you're watching a good series

with that person.

Like...

It's like, it's not the relationship that's good,

it's the show you're watching together.

I went out with a wild alcoholic for years

just because we were watching "Breaking Bad" together.

He was the kind of drunk

that would just start glaring at a certain hour,

like, you just get real suspicious.

But I'll put up with a lot if I'm entertained.

And every day with an alcoholic is like a scavenger hunt.

Like, you never know where it's gonna end.

Like, I came home one night

and he was just sitting on the edge of his bed

with nothing on except for just a button-down Hawaiian shirt,

just balls, dick, and a "Magnum, P.I." top.

And he was just sitting there like this, like, "Ahh!"

[slurred] He's like, "Aloha, babe!

I'm not drunk, I'm not drunk."

Just red-faced, shit-house wasted.

It's funny where your personal deal-breakers will lie, though,

because I went out with a wild drunk for years.

I'm like, just dealt with anything just so I had

some sort of a man chest to lay on at the end of the night.

You know, just throw his stupid body in a cab.

But then one thing will happen

and I just get disgusted with somebody.

Like, on a first date, like, I went out with this guy

and, um, I went back to his place

and I cannot prepare you guys for what I'm about to say.

Like, everyone, just hold hands.

Um...

I went back to his home and he took off his clothes

and he had a belly button ring.

I don't even know what I just said,

and I'm sorry.

I was like, what?! Like, I was so angry.

I wanted answers.

I'm like, "Why do you have a belly button?

"You have a man's stomach.

"It's not like a naughty little space

that you hang charms off of."

I was like, "What did the last woman say?"

I was, like, grilling him, you know?

And he just had no answers, it was so frustrating.

He was like, "No woman's ever had a problem with it."

I was like, who are these women?

I'm like, can I reach out to them somehow?

Like, who are these faceless victims?

I'm not gonna be like the girl beneath you

while your fucking yin yang hits my stomach

while you're inside of me.

I'm not gonna go down on you and then, like,

have your bedazzled abs in my eyeline.

Those are my-- just my personal deal-breakers.

They make no sense whatsoever.

Wild alcoholic, nice four years of my life.

I'll just drop it right in a bucket.

One belly button ring, I'm like, you stay the fuck away

from me and my family!

Maybe it's just men's jewelry.

Because I feel the same way when I see a guy

with a lot of chunky rings, I just get real disgusted.

Like I imagine him, like, shaking them off

at the end of the day.

Probably like a ring tray by his bed.

Disgusting.

I could vomit for hours just thinking about that.

Or, like, watching him choose his rings in the morning.

Just like...

Plucking them off some ring tree.

[lowered] Like, "I think I'll wear the raven today,

or maybe my Halloween ring."

Ugh, disgusting.

Men's jewelry, not okay.

Wild, destructive alcoholic,

four to five years, absolutely.

I'm in, I'm committed.

So this guy was trying to get me to come back to his place.

And I didn't want to have sex with him,

but my friends will make fun of me, 'cause I like to just

go over to guy's places and make out and cuddle with them.

And they're like, "Stop doing that.

"No one wants to have your strange

Christian sleepovers with you."

I don't know why they call them my "Christian sleepovers"

since I'm a Jew, but they're always like--

they're always, like, "Stop Christian sleepover-ing guys.

It's weird."

It's only if they're already trying to get me to come over

and then I just, like, try to be very clinical about it.

I'm like, "If I come over,

you're gonna have a semi for the next seven hours or so."

I'm like, "If I was your sexual attorney,

"I'd recommend that you don't take this deal.

"It's not a good deal for you.

"Maybe a mediocre hand job,

that's what we're ready to extend at this point."

And he was nice about it because he as a tool.

A douche would have been like,

[lowered] "Forget that shit.

I just screw girls with my dick, that's it."

"Tucker nearby, gently face-raking me

while I'm inside them."

But he was a nice tool,

so he was okay with my dumb terms.

[lowered] He was, "Yeah, yeah."

It's nothing but a blur.

He was very dumb,

but he was also really successful.

You know people like that?

Like, he worked in finance or something,

and he made a lot of money,

but he was very dumb in every way

except for that small section of your brain

that you need to make insane amounts of money.

I've never understood that, it doesn't seem fair.

Like, every other part of his brain

is just wild moron and fuzz and sadness,

but somehow that muddy section is just really blazing.

Like, everything really comes together there.

He had this gorgeous apartment,

but there was nothing up on the walls

except for there was just this rally towel

for the team the Braves that was the centerpiece in his home.

It's just this washcloth that said "Braves"

that was up with four thumb tacks above his mantle.

So at least I knew that there was no woman in his life,

'cause they would never have allowed a soiled rag

to be displayed like that.

He actually admitted that he took it down sometimes,

dried his hands with it, and then remounted it.

And he goes,

"Um, there's this movie about the Rock, like the wrestler,

and he's one of my heroes."

We just skipped over that. It was like, okay, um...

And he goes, "It's about the Rock,

"and, like, this little girl,

"and like, they have to hang out together, it's amazing."

He's really pitching this to me.

He's like, "I mean, 'cause he's this big guy, you know?

And then he hangs out with this little tiny girl, right?"

He's like, "That's great stuff.

"I mean, you know, big guy, and then he's hanging around

with a little girl all the time."

I'm like, "I get it. I get that, that's dumb."

He goes, "I mean, that's great comedy right there.

You should put something like that in your skit."

That's how little understanding he had of what I did.

He thought I could just walk onstage,

describe a plot of an awful movie that I didn't write,

and then just drop the mic.

Like, "You're welcome, everyone."

Like, "Peace."

So we watched that movie and I've never seen--

I just gave in, "I was like, fine."

Um, I'm just lying there.

And I've never seen someone so happy in my life.

Like, and I realized, like, dumb people win.

They win in every way, you know?

Like, this tool, I mean, just this beautiful peace

came across his face every time the Rock had to,

like, pick up a little purse or something, he'd be like,

[lowered] "Babe, look at that!

"She's a tiny little girl, he's huge!

Oh, my God, that's funny stuff."

Just kept looking at me like,

[lowered] "You think too much. You're thinking too much."

But it's true, like, he's happy.

I mean, pure joy.

He's reached some sort of an elevated Buddha-like state.

I'm just sitting there like gnarled and furious.

Just, like, dissecting how dumb this movie is

and sitting there, like, all like, God damn it!

Fuck this shit!

[lowered] And he's just like, "Baby, big, little."

Okay, so I'm lying there in this tool's room

and I was looking--

and I'm staring at his Braves washcloth.

You ever say something and as you're saying it, you're like,

this is not acceptable, as it's actively traveling

out of my mouth and towards this person?

I was just staring at his Braves washcloth,

and I just go,

"I feel like if you opened up your head,

like it was some sort of a canister,

"there would be nothing inside

"except for that Braves washcloth

"and maybe, like, a crisp $100 bill

"and, like, a copy of 'Maxim.'

"I feel like those would be the three and only items

inside your skull."

He just looks at me and he goes,

[lowered] "That's exactly what would be in my skull, baby."

[lowered] He goes, "Oh, my God, thank you so much."

I was home visiting my parents for a while.

I don't know if anybody feels like this,

but I cannot handle my mom.

She's just too overwhelming.

Like, she-- Everything about her is just too much.

Like, she's always stopping people in public

and trying to have these sort of jazzy moments with people.

Like...

And they're not having the moments with her.

That's what we want her to understand.

Like, people listen to her with this sort of a stance.

They're usually backed up against some sort of a wall

and they just look like they feel soiled somehow.

She's doing like a Jazzercise lunge in their face.

She never questions herself.

She's not particularly curious

as to how she's being received by anyone.

Just walks away from every exchange,

like, "Well, that was fantastic."

You know, like, she's...

Everything about her is overwhelming.

She's always wearing some sort of a long,

menopausal cape.

And she just likes to let people know

that she's very culturally aware

and just kinda down with everything culturally.

Her newest thing she's doing is she's decided--

She thinks when we go out to a Latin restaurant

that it's respectful to order in a Spanish accent.

I'm like, "I don't know where you've collected this idea,

"but you're a wild asshole.

Stop doing that."

[bad Spanish accent] She'll be like, "I'll have the taco al carbon."

And then there's actually a dance,

she does some sort of a Latin dance.

We were at this restaurant,

the Mexican waiter hated my mother so much.

He was just glaring at her, like, you awful white bitch.

My mom is this close to his face going,

[high-pitched] "I love Latino culture!"

[high-pitched] She goes, "We had a wonderful trip

recently to Nicaragua."

I was like...

like, "I don't know what that birdcall was,

"but why would the Mexican waiter

"care about your Nicaraguan trip?

Just stop."

[high-pitched] She goes, "We loved the people there.

"We found them so inspiring.

They had these large, brown curious eyes."

Which is the same thing my mom said

about Allen Iverson years ago.

She likes to pretend like she likes basketball,

but we don't believe her.

She's always trying to have these kind of casual

b-ball conversations with people.

It's so uncomfortable.

She just like will saddle up next to somebody and be like,

[high-pitched] "I'm just so jazzed up about the NBA this year."

I'm like, "No one says that that watches basketball."

Not even the Utah Jazz says they're jazzed up about the NBA.

It's unacceptable.

So she's now got this waiter

on some sort of Nicaraguan vacation

that he never wanted to go on.

She's hijacked him, that's what she does to people.

[high-pitched] She goes, "Oh, you'll love the people there.

"They're fantastic.

"They-- they sit by the side of the road

"in these little clusters.

"Um... these beautiful, young child slaves

"and all you do is give 'em a quarter.

"They'll make anything for you.

"Any marvelous, indigenous piece,

"they just weave it up for you.

"You can't give 'em any more than that, though,

"because then they'll follow you and they'll...

"they'll ruin your vacation.

"That's when they start asking for food and water.

"We don't fall for those tricks.

"They get a drop of water, they're cut off.

We're savvy travelers."

My mom hates that joke so much.

My mom hates it, she's always like,

[high-pitched] "Can you please take that one out of your talent show?"

That's what she calls my standup.

My "talent show."

[high-pitched] She goes, "I do not support child slavery

and I'd like it removed from the talent show immediately."

I'm like, yes, you do, you white bitch.

She's just aggressively liberal.

Like, her dream in life

is if I would marry a Nigerian lesbian.

That's all she wants.

She was just praying that one of us was gay.

She was just sitting in the kitchen waiting, just like,

[high-pitched] "There's cocoa if anyone's gay

and wants to talk about it!"

I was a weird kid.

I was just, like, awkward, you know,

like, one of my breasts grew before the other.

I had, like, a starter tit, which is not a hot look

for a girl.

There was this one guy Rob, like, I liked him so much.

And I remember my friend called him on the phone

and I was, like, listening in just...

It was the most important moment of my life.

And she just goes, "What do you give Rachel

on a score from one to ten?"

[lowered] And he goes, "Probably like a four.

You mean the girl with the lazy tit right?"

And then he goes, "There's something gross about her,

but I, like, can't put my finger on it."

Which is so much worse than, like,

she's ugly or, like, she's a dog.

It's like, he's actually trying to get to the bottom

of what's so specifically foul about me.

He's on some sort of a personal contemplative journey

to figure it out.

I was devastated.

And then, um, I went up to this other guy at my school,

um, and I was like really upset.

And I'm like, "Andre, I don't know if you heard,

"like, Rob say, like, a lazy tit, so that means

he definitely doesn't like me?

Is that--"

And he goes--

He got real serious, I'll never forget this moment.

He just looks at me and he goes,

[lowered] "Don't worry, nothing in life matters but the ass, that's it."

He talked like Shaq for some reason.

I was like, "Really? Okay." And then he goes,

[lowered] "Little boys think that tits matter,

but adult men know that ass matters, that's all."

I'm like, "But you're 14.

You're not an adult."

[lowered] He goes, "I want the kind of ass, you know,

"you just gotta wrangle with.

"I want the kind of ass that's unruly.

"I want the kinda ass you gotta take down.

"I want an ass that just disagrees

"with the rest of the body.

"The ass I want is gonna scare me at first.

"I'm gonna be real scared.

"I want an ass that challenges me, you know,

"I gotta take it down, with, like, a bow and arrow

or some shit."

Like, "That's enough examples for now, Andre, thank you."

[lowered] Then he goes, "I'll be outside during recess on booty watch

if you want to sit with me."

And he did, he had, like, a station

outside our middle school where he would just watch asses.

That's how he spent his lunch break.

He would just sit outside on, like, a folding chair

with, like, a two-liter and a hoagie

and a towel on his shoulder.

Like watching asses was a sport

that could potentially exhaust him somehow.

Like he'd need to wipe himself down

after just viewing asses.

But I sat with him, and then, like, he saw the ass

he was searching for.

He's like, "Shh, shh, shh."

I'm like...

Like, there was a risk of us waking the ass up.

Like, it was...

We were gonna rouse it somehow.

But whenever I was sad, his-- his advice

always came back to ass, even if it wasn't appropriate.

Like, I'd be like, "I don't know if you heard,

but my grandma died."

[lowered] He'd be like, "I know that's upsetting,

"but I just wanna let you know

that you're thicker than a Snicker."

I'm like, "That's not helpful."

I've been seeing this guy now, and every time we hook up,

he always wants me to do a sexy dance for him.

It's like, I'll put on lingerie or something,

but I'm not gonna do a jig, it's too ridiculous.

I'm like, "I don't have a jazzy number

I'm gonna prepare for you, I'm sorry."

Like, this is not "America's Got Talent."

Finally, I just put on a bikini and I did the Charleston

above him.

He was disgusted.

He was gently weeping by the time I was done Charlestoning.

It's very sexy, you guys.

Finally, I gave him a lap dance,

but I think it was confusing for him

'cause I was also singing a lot of Yiddish show tunes.

So I was grinding on him,

which I thought was a fair compromise,

but I was also going,

[Yiddish accent] ♪ Your smile is my umbrella

♪ How much is that doggy in the window? ♪

Ahh!

I sang a lot of songs from "Fiddler on the Roof."

He was fully flaccid by the time his lap dance was complete.

We fight a lot 'cause, like, he gets mad at me.

I like to joke after sex and I'll do this thing

where I'll give him what I call an Amish hand job,

where I just bat his dick back and forth, like that.

I'll pretend like I'm an Amish girl

and I think this is a really good hand job.

It's like my favorite game to play.

It's very important that it's after sex.

It's funnier if the dick is flaccid

and just being foolishly batted about.

So you guys, you know, I'm sure you're about to do it at home,

so I'm just trying to give you careful instructions.

It's like a game of tetherball with a dick, just--

The dick is in the middle and then just...

Sometimes he'll play along.

"That's a good hand job, Amish."

I'll be like, "You're welcome, sir.

"Would you prefer if I lathered it up

with some apple butter for you?"

Sometimes he'll let me do it,

but sometimes he'll just like bat me away.

I can always tell if he's in a good mood

by whether he'll let me give him an Amish hand job.

It's a good gauge.

Sometimes he'll put, like, weird rules on it, you know?

Like, the other day, he's like, "Listen, do me a favor.

"When we get to the bed and breakfast,

just don't give me an Amish hand job."

I'm like, "Why?"

I feel like that's a perfect setting for an Amish hand job.

Like, in the early 1900s, that's all men got

were Amish hand jobs, nothing else.

I just kept bothering him with Amish hand job facts.

I'm like, "People that had consumption

"were sometimes roused back to health

by a long Amish hand job."

The thing with bed and breakfasts,

it's like, the people don't want you there, you know?

You're just a reminder that they can't retire,

but you think you're just sort of joining lives

with these people-- They hate you.

They... they don't want you there.

We were sitting at that communal table

and everybody speaks at that-- in that, like, mild whisper.

They always speak in that gentle whisper, you know?

Like, at the breakfast table

like they're gonna wake the antiques or some shit.

And I'm talking to this woman and I was, like,

listening to her, she's telling me about her life.

And she's, like, "We're from Maine

and we have our own farm."

You ever do this, where as you're listening,

you just stop and compliment yourself

on what a good listener you are?

Like, I'm just sitting there while I'm listening to her

and I'm like, I am a remarkable listener.

I'm like, this is pretty fantastic.

I just--

I should win some sort of an award

for what noble, patient listening I'm doing right now.

Look at her, she's still talking.

It's like, who gives a shit, right?

And I'm just sitting there taking it all in

with my open, giving face.

I am a fucking nun.

God damn it, shut up. Please shut up.

Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up.

And there was this woman there, I kinda liked her

on the first day.

I was like, I like Gail.

She just takes trips alone.

I liked that she was there alone.

I'm like, Gail doesn't give a shit, just fucking travelling

the country alone, you know?

And she kept telling us why she didn't need a man,

but the reasons were getting, like, too specific, you know?

She's like, "I don't need a man.

"They fuck your cousin Jen.

I'm like, holy shit, Gail's--

I think Gail's really angry.

Like, she's with these women

that just seem like they started out divorced,

like, they were never married.

Just went straight to divorce.

I was a weird kid.

Nobody ever taught me how to be a proper woman.

Um, you guys just looked at me,

like, "We've already figured that out.

"You don't need to make

some sort of a separate announcement about that."

I had this nanny and she would give me a lot of advice,

but there was something wrong with her.

I'd just be playing with my dolls on the floor

and she'd be like,

[elderly accent] "Only whores wear purple."

I'm like, what just happened?

She had a lot of specific rules

about whores that she taught me.

They weren't particularly helpful.

[elderly accent] She'd just be like, "Only whores carry suitcases."

I'm like, "Really, that's it?

You just carry a suitcase and you're a Godless whore?"

[elderly accent] She goes, "Yes, I'll tell you what they have

"in those little slut satchels.

"They have all kinds of creams and rinses

"to cover up their whoring, that's what they have there.

"Little perfumes and lotions.

"Little Tinker Bell powders to cover up

"the rancid things they've done.

"Knee pads and mouthwash,

"that's what they have in those slut sacks.

"Good night!

Sleep tight."

That's how she tucked me in, you guys,

lots of whore warnings and then lights out for everyone.

She had the world separated into types of whores.

We'd be just walking down the street on a lovely day

[elderly accent] and she'd be like, "You see that over there?

She's an eastern seaboard whore."

I'm like, "What could that possibly mean?"

[elderly accent] She goes, "You see that whore?

She probably goes to work with men."

I'm like, "You know, a lot of them do that now."

[elderly accent] She goes, "Not in my day.

Only whores worked."

Then she goes, "My father heard a rumor that we wanted to work,

so he sat us down and set us straight."

I like that she said he "heard a rumor" that they wanted to work,

like it was some sort of a foul thing

that was getting around town.

He probably, like, came back from his day at the plant

and lit up a fat cigar

and he was just, like, "I hear you skirts wanna work

"in buildings with men?

"I told you, you don't need to work.

"You can stay home and make cupcakes and giggle.

You like giggling, don't you?"

She was probably innocent once.

[high-pitched] She was probably like, "It's true, Papa,

"we do want to go outside sometimes.

"It's not just a nasty rumor,

"I'm afraid it's true.

Why, sometimes, we get bored at home."

[lowered] "I told you whores, if you get bored,

"you can practice looking at a pretty pattern or doing a twirl.

You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

[high-pitched] "Yeah, we twirled for a lot of hours, Papa,

"but I want to go out and do something.

"Wouldn't that be exciting? Me, doing something?

"Come on, Papa.

"No, Papa, I want to do something more fun.

I can't be a cheerleader forever."

[lowered] "Yes, you can, you'll be a paper shaker

"until you're 30 and then you've gone rancid.

We talked about that."

[high-pitched] "But, Papa, I want to do something exciting.

"I mean, sometimes I get bored, and, you know,

"I'm sure it'll be hard outside

"and if I try to do something big,

"I know it'll be difficult and my tits will get confused.

"I'd like to be a pilot.

"Imagine that, me, oh, sure, it'd be scary,

but come on, Papa, let me try it."

[lowered] "Are you crazy? What's next?

You start wearing wristwatches and having opinions?"

[high-pitched] "Well, then maybe I could be a stewardess.

"Come on, Papa, imagine that, me, a waitress on a plane.

"And again, sure, my tits would get confused sometimes,

"but I'd like to try it.

Come on, please, Papa, let me try it."

[lowered] "That sounds like an opinion to me.

"Why don't we take you down to the old lobotomy factory

"and take a nice, sweet chunk out of your brain,

the talking-back part?"

[high-pitched] "No, I don't want to go to the lobotomy factory.

"Ever since Mildred came back, she's useless.

Now all she does is flap around and spit in the corner."

Stay with me, guys, I know this is getting weird.

Um...

[high-pitched] "Come on, Papa, please,

"let me be a waitress on a plane at least.

I know I'm just a woman, but I want to try."

[lowered] "You can't be a waitress on a plane.

Only whores carry suitcases!"

That was it, you guys,

the end of their hopes and dreams.

I was in Vegas recently.

A lot of douchery in Vegas.

Thank you. Um...

I feel like people go to Vegas to be a douche, you know?

Like, I kind of feel sorry for Vegas in that way.

We've just chosen this place we go and, like, smear our asshole

all over, you know?

It's not really Vegas's fault.

We've just decided that when we want to be a complete dick,

we go to Vegas and do it there, you know?

It's funny, like, sometimes you'll see somebody at home

and they seem like an okay person

and then you see them in Vegas and you're like,

"Holy shit."

I saw this guy I knew there,

like, he seemed like a pretty normal guy.

I see him in Vegas, he was, like, so drunk, he's like,

wet, just falling through the casino.

I'm like, "I'll see you back home, Scott.

You need to work through some shit, clearly."

I was just sitting by the pool with my friends

and these guys walk up to us, my favorite types,

like, young, date-raping jocks, just...

Some guy looks like he just graduated from Rape Tech

or some shit.

And he was so drunk,

he was sort of gently swaying-- Just my type.

And he walked up and he goes,

[lowered] "What are you two lovely bitches doing?"

He called us-- called us "lovely bitches,"

which is also a poem by Emily Dickinson.

[lowered] Then he goes, "I would actually like to have sex

with both of you ladies."

He said it like it was a special Christmas offer.

[lowered] Then he goes, "I bet you don't know what Vegas is all about."

[high-pitched] I was like, "I don't know, you explain it to me.

My tits are confused."

[lowered] And he goes, "Vegas is actually about sex and money, ladies."

He said it like that was a real breakthrough concept

to come out about Vegas.

I'm like, "Isn't that pretty much what it says on the brochure?"

[high-pitched] "But I thought Vegas was about eating organic

"and unconditional love.

"I thought Vegas

"was supposed to be all about loyalty and trust.

"Oh, if what you say is true,

"we've got to tell the detectives, and fast.

Even my tits are concerned."

He did not care for me at all, he was a real prince.

He was the one that got away is what he was.

He just goes like this to me, he goes, mmm...

He tries to erase me like I was a chalkboard.

I've never been manually erased before,

but it's not a good feeling.

And then he got frustrated when he couldn't erase me.

[lowered] He's like, "What the fuck? I can't erase this bitch!

Get over here, Tucker! I can't erase her!"

It's just good to be home.

I've been on the road for a while.

Usually comedy clubs don't give a shit about us.

They'll just send like any sex offender

to go get us from the airport.

I was in Alabama and they sent this man--

You know when you meet someone and just right away,

you're like, oh, you're crazy, like, as soon as I met him.

I get into his car, this is the first thing he said to me,

it's what he felt comfortable just opening with.

[Southern accent] He just goes, "Are you ready to protect your family?"

I'm like, what the hell?

I don't even have a family.

I mean, I'm pregnant, but not for long.

And then he took me to the hotel.

He kept explaining to me how he was gonna kill an intruder

if they came to his home.

It was a very soothing,

kinda getting-to-know-you conversation.

[Southern accent] He's like, "I'll tell you how I'm gonna get 'em,

tell you how I'm gonna get them bandits."

He goes, "If they come through my north door--"

I'm like, first of all, it's your front door.

It's-- it's not the military.

He was getting more and more excited.

[Southern accent] He's like, "I'll tell you how I'm gonna get 'em."

He was one of these people, like, nothing would make him

more upset than if no one ever breaks into his home

and just tries to kill the bejesus out of his wife

and family, like...

That's his dream, that's what he beats to

furiously every night.

That he gets to kill 'em all in some sort of blaze of glory

and then they carry him around the room afterwards like a hero

and sprinkle Gatorade and pussy on him

or whatever he thinks is gonna happen.

And then he took me back to the airport.

I don't know if you've had this experience with someone

where, like, they think you've been slowly falling in love

and you've been actively terrified

the entire time you're with them.

He pulled up

and he had this sort of gross, romantic expression

that I didn't care for.

[Southern accent] And he goes, "I just want to say, I thought

we shared some pretty special moments together."

And then he says,

"And you is the first Jewish that I had ever known."

Yes.

So I was extremely aroused.

Never been someone's first Jewish before

and it's just a big turn-on for me.

And then he had this duffel bag with him and he reached inside,

he had a little trick in his eyes.

I'm like, what the hell is gonna be in this psychotic

courtship sack he's brought along?

And he pulled out a painting that he had made for me

of a Star of David.

It was one of the most disturbing things

I've ever seen.

You could take one look at it and you'd know, he will kill.

He'll kill soon.

So he-- he whips out this Star of David painting

and he started flapping it around my face

and he was making these weird sounds.

[Southern accent] He was going, "Come on, baby, there she goes, yeah.

Oh, my baby likes her Star of David, yes, she does."

This happened to me, you guys.

I was sitting in a man's dirty Oldsmobile

and he was flapping a Star of David in my face.

Like some sort of a redneck matador or something.

And he kept flapping it at me and watching me.

I'm like, what does he want to happen right now?

Then I think I realized, I think he thought

that that's all you have to do to fuck a Jew.

Like, maybe his uncle told him that

when he was a kid or something.

Maybe he took him aside and he was like,

[Southern accent] "If you ever want to screw a Jew,

"you just gotta flap a Star of David

"around the Jew's face.

"Keep flapping it, be patient, you know?

"Take your time,

"it's just like trying to get a little puppy

"out from under a porch, just keep flapping it.

"And then once the Jew's ready to be entered,

"her skin's gonna turn like the color of money.

"Once it's at that nice, sweet, currency color,

"that's when you got her where you want her.

"And she'll just be begging for it.

"She's gonna crawl out from that porch

"where she controls the media

"and she's just gonna be like...

'Stick it in, stick it in! Stick it in me!'"

So we live together now, and, um...

I've never felt so safe, you guys.

I know that at any moment when that group of bandits

come crashing through our north door,

he's gonna kill the shit out of them.

That's so hot.

I was in Buffalo recently.

I like to watch a lot of, like, murder on TV.

I don't know if anybody else does.

I love "Forensic Files," I can't get enough.

I can't go to bed without watching "Forensic Files"

and, like, a "Wives with Knives."

I don't know what that says about me, but...

I think it's because it makes you feel like an amazing person.

Like, if you watch a few "Forensic Files" back-to-back,

you'll really think you're running a tight ship

in your life.

Like, I'm just lying there, like, stuffing pound cake in my face,

I'm like caking, watching "Forensic Files."

And I actually had this thought, I was like, "I'm a good person.

"I don't have the slightest desire to kill a hooker.

It's never occurred to me."

So I'm lying there and then my manager calls me

and he's like, "Listen, um, Jenna Jameson,

the porn star, wants to come to your show tonight."

And I was like, "Why is she in Buffalo?"

And then...

he was like, "I don't know, I'll try to figure that out.

I think it's strange, too."

So I was like, "Okay, yeah, she can come."

And I'm just lying there, caking, trying to figure all this out.

He calls me back again, he's like,

"Okay, so she wants to take you to your show tonight."

I'm like, that's strange, but I just continued to meet all of Jenna Jameson's demands.

I'm like, "Very well. All right."

And then he calls back again and he was like,

"It turns out Jenna Jameson is staying at your hotel."

I was like, all right, it's even weirder.

And then he was like, "She's in the lobby.

"She wants you to come down. She's waiting.

She's been waiting for a while." So I'm like, all right.

I'm like Jenna Jameson's bitch now.

I'm like getting ready for her frantically.

I was kind of nervous.

I was like, trying to figure out what to wear.

And I'm like-- I was trying to imagine

what she would be wearing and I figured she'd probably

be wearing one of those dresses

you buy from the dildo store, you know?

She'll probably be dressed in some sort of

like a naughty costume, like a whorey crossing guard

or some shit.

So I come downstairs and she's sitting in the lobby.

She's not dressed in a dildo dress,

but she's, like, just wearing this, like, big coat,

and, like, some ironic Malcolm X glasses.

'Cause I realize, like, she's the kind of hot

where you have to wear a disguise when you go outside,

or it's like, not safe, you know?

Like, men will just be coming everywhere, you know,

like, everybody'll just be slipping and falling, you know?

We're sitting there and she just looks at me

[high-pitched] and she's like, "You and me, life on the road."

And I'm like, I think she thinks we do the same thing.

Okay.

So-- so we're going over to the comedy club,

and it's like, the green room is like packed with, like,

horny comedians that are pretending they're there to support me,

but they just want to meet Jenna Jameson, you know?

Like, guys in, like, winter coats looking real backed up

and horny and angry.

I'm sitting next to her and one of the guys looks at her,

one of the comedians looks at her and he goes,

"So are you a big Rachel Feinstein fan?"

[high-pitched] And she goes, "I want to have sex with her."

Right? I could not handle that.

I just got, like, really uncomfortable.

So for some reason, my way of dealing with that

was that my voice just got, like, really deep, you know?

[Scottish accent] I just go, "Oh, Jenna, relax."

I became, like, a Scottish sailor?

[Scottish accent] I was like, "Oh, Jenna, come on, the sea is unpredictable."

I'm like, what just happened?

She was completely comfortable.

Like, she just kept flirting with me the way like--

like a girl flirts with a straight guy.

I'm like, I don't know where to place any of this.

This doesn't do anything for me, I'm very confused.

She just kept being, like,

[high-pitched] "Oh, I want-- You're not paying attention to me."

And so...

And then...

and then one of the comedians looks at her, he's like,

"So how did you first get into Rachel's stuff?"

And she goes,

[high-pitched] "I was very turned on by her last Comedy Central special."

Which, I think was very confusing,

'cause I do these like heinous characters.

I don't really do like a sexy act.

Trying to figure out what would have turned Jenna Jameson on

out of my material.

I was just, like, rifling through it in my head.

I'm just imagining me, like,

[Yiddish accent] ♪ Your smile is my umbrella

♪ How much is that doggy in the window? ♪

And then Jenna Jameson just like

finger blasting the day away.

Her just...

her just lying there, like,

[high-pitched] "Fuck yeah!

"Fuck my pussy, fuck yeah! Yeah!

Yeah, fuck yeah! Yeah!"

I'm just assuming she makes the same sounds

that she makes in porn, I don't know.

[high-pitched] "Yeah, fuck yeah!"

And then her manager was like, you should tell the crowd

that Jenna Jameson's here.

I'm like, I'm not gonna do that.

Then everyone's just gonna ignore my entire show

and just start beating off.

So the other comedian was like, "Well, maybe I'll say it."

So he goes on stage, he does a few minutes,

and then all of a sudden, he just looks at the crowd

and he makes, like, an announcement

that Jenna Jameson's there.

He's like, "Ladies and gentlemen,

Jenna Jameson is in the house." Right?

Like it was a fire drill or something.

Everyone went crazy,

you know, 'cause again, it's Buffalo.

They're like, "Holy shit!" you know?

They went nuts, and then Jenna Jameson stood up.

I have never related to a person less.

She stood up and she just went like this.

[high-pitched] She was like, "Fuck yeah!"

Did like a pity jig for herself.

I'm like, what would it feel like to have the impulse

to do that, just to stand up and do, like, a celebrational,

like, titty dance, like,

[high-pitched] "Yeah, it's me."

I was like, oh, that's a choice.

And so...

And then, the comedian's mother was in the audience

and she was just very confused.

And she didn't know why this woman was getting more attention

than her son and she didn't know who Jenna Jameson was

'cause she didn't watch a lot of porn.

So the mom just screams out all of a sudden,

"Jenna Jameson sucks!"

And I'm like, oh, shit!

My God.

Four hours ago, I was just laying on my bed,

watching "Wives with Knives," caking.

Some shit is happening in my life right now.

And then Jenna Jameson stands back up--

Again, I'm just watching all this,

I have to go on after this.

And she does the same dance, but this time, she's angry,

but it seems just as happy as the last dance.

[high-pitched] She's like, "Fuck you, bitch!"

She's like,

"Fuck you, you fucking bitch, I'm Jenna Jamison."

All right, so...

so then, she just calms down, I guess.

And then I get on stage

and then all of a sudden, she stands up again.

At this point, I'm like comfortable scolding her.

I've known her for like four hours.

I'm like, "What is it, Jenna?" you know?

She stands up and she just looks at the crowd and she goes,

[high-pitched] "Rachel Feinstein! Fuck that shit!"

[Scottish accent] I'm like, "That's not helpful, Jenna, settle down!"

[high-pitched] Like, "Rachel Feinstein--"

[Scottish accent] I'm like, "Jenna, the storm is angrier than ever,

"get off the decks!

"We'll never make it through the night, we'll all perish.

Hoist the main sail!"

And just, like, more boating advice, sailing advice.

I'm like, "Never board a ship without your rudder

and compass, mate!"

I don't know what was happening.

So she just, like, sits down, like...

[high-pitched whining]

Then I finish my show

and then she walks up to me afterwards

and she starts taking pictures of the two of us.

And, like, she just like looks all hot

and I just look more and more Scottish and alarmed and...

And then she just looks at me and she goes,

[high-pitched] "Now I'm gonna need your number

"because I'm taking pictures of us

and then I'll have to send them to you."

[mumbling]

"You better give me your number."

I'm like, "I'll give you my number.

Here it is."

So...

so we exchange phone numbers.

And then she's like,

[high-pitched] "Are you coming over to the nightclub later?"

It was like some place I would never go.

Like some nightclub I'd never wanna step foot in.

It was like a name that sounds like a sound

or something, like Bam or something.

[high-pitched] She's like, "You better be at Bam in two hours or..."

[high-pitched] And I'm like, "Okay, I'll be there."

Like...

I just decided, I'm gonna meet

every one of Jenna Jameson's demands,

everything until I'm expected to scissor her.

Like, I'll do everything pre-scissoring,

and then I'm out, like, I can't handle that, it's too much.

And so we go over to the club and she walks up to me

[high-pitched] and she's like, "We need to talk."

And I'm like, "Okay, what do you want to say?"

"We're gonna have a talk right now."

I'm like... [high-pitched whining]

So...

[high-pitched] She goes, "Listen. I need to tell you something

and it's really important."

[Scottish accent] So I was like, "Whatever you've got to say, I'm ready for it.

The storm is more fierce than it's ever been."

And she goes...

[high-pitched] She goes, "I need to tell you something and it's really important.

Our hotel is haunted."

At that point, I wasn't even surprised.

So I was like, "All right, of course.

Yes, Jenna Jameson, of course our hotel is haunted."

And she goes,

[high-pitched] "Look, don't freak out,

"like, the ghosts aren't bad.

"Um... I think we just need to have a talk with them.

Most of them are just people that miss their families."

[Scottish accent] Like, "All right, yes, okay. Jenna, fine, very well.

Something something Scottish."

[high-pitched] She goes, "But I think I know what we can do about it.

"I think the best thing to do is, um,

"if you want to come over to my room tonight,

"um, we can deal with the ghosts together.

Because I actually have a really good relationship with ghosts."

Again, I'm like, of course. Of course you do.

[high-pitched] She goes, "I'm a really good communicator with ghosts,

"so if you want to come back to my room, we'll, like,

do a séance, and we'll talk to the ghosts together."

And at that point, I was like,

that's the most brilliant way to get a girl

to just come back to your room and sit on your face, like...

Just pretend that there are, like, evil ghosts

and you can just scissor the ghosts gone.

But I couldn't handle it.

And I was like-- I was like, ahh, I can't, you know.

I realized, like, if I'm gonna hook up with a girl,

it's not gonna be Jenna Jameson.

I can't start there.

That's just too terrifying, you know?

Like, I'm not gonna have any, like, moves that impress her

or anything.

Like, what am I gonna do, just give her an Amish hand job?

I got nothing for her but Amish hand jobs.

That's all I got.

Thank you guys so much!

Thank you!

♪♪

And that's when I knew that I wanted to do comedy.

Grape.

Thank you.

All right, I'll just...

I feel like we're good with all of this.

I feel like I could just do this.

Thank you.

You don't need any touch-ups, right, you're good?

Uh, no, I--All right, thank you, that's all.

Thank you. Thank you.

When I won the Emmy,

they called my name and I thought, no!

And then I thought... yeah.

Have you read my blog?No. I, uh--

I haven't stopped by.

Oh, my God, you have to read my blog.

It's really smart and I feel like everybody

could really benefit from it.

Oh, what advice can I give you?

Think of me.Mm-hmm.

[Amy humming]

[woman] So easy.