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Thanks for coming. Wow, nice claps!
Better than my wedding, actually. How are you?
Good!
You sound good. Keep it up in the show, even if it sucks.
Keep that energy coming. How are you? Good, really?
-Yes! -Thank you. Thank you for being here.
I'm very happy to be back in Argentina.
Maybe you didn't know... I left for a bit, did you know?
If you don't, here's the deal, I went to Spain to try my luck...
And here I am.
Great. Starting by laughing at my expense.
Just so you know,
you're energetic, but jerks.
This is the vibe I'm getting.
But anyway, thank you for being here.
This show's called "I Want to Complain," So, I will start by complaining.
That's the deal. I'm very whiny,
why hide it today...
I complain about everything.
What I complain most about is my back.
It's like my thing.
I'm the type of person whose back is always in pain.
I mean, you don't need to ask me,
"Is your back okay?" "No, it isn't," there's your answer.
But I know I'm not alone in this.
There are always people whose back is always in pain, for example,
is there anyone here whose back is constantly in pain?
Yes!
I love that you are super proud of it.
So weird! It's the only ailment people are proud of.
Have you noticed?
Not like I go, "Do you have hemorrhoids?
And you go, "Yeah, I shit blood, here!" No.
But back pain is like you own up to it.
"Here!" And you pulled it, right?
I have constant back pain. It sucks.
For those who can't grasp what constant back pain is like,
some days I get up
and feel I've been stabbed in a vertebrae
and that if I take a breath, it's being pushed deeper in.
And that's when I say, "Today I'm feeling better."
My back pain is constant.
I think my mom fucked a rusty bike chain, and here I came.
"Here, lady. This is what you got, a nerve.
They may become a comedian in the future."
It's not like something happened and then...
My back has always hurt. I remember
as a little boy, going to birthday parties,
you know, when the piñata came kids got down on the floor looking for
candies, lollipops,
and I was in the back going, "I wonder if there's some ibuprofen.
A diclofenac, maybe."
My back has always hurt and I'm too lazy to solve my problems.
I'm too lazy to go to the doctor.
Question, are there any doctors in the room?
It's Wednesday evening, I get it...
I see a hand up over there, right?
-Are you a doctor? -Yes.
What's your specialty?
A plastic surgeon, so, fuck the back.
"I have a hernia." "Oh, but we made it look gorge."
"But it hurts when I breathe."
"Yes, but it looks stunning."
You know what I dread about doctors? I dread going because, say, you go,
and they don't solve the issue.
They don't solve it, it's not like...
I'd like, "Here's a pill, tomorrow you'll be all good." No.
They say so many things, regardless of their specialty.
So many things that just don't make sense.
You go in for the back pain and they say, "Watch your posture.
Don't push yourself, don't sit too long, don't stand too long,
Please levitate three centimeters above..."
There was a time, some years ago, when I worked at a call center,
So, I go to the doctor because I had back pain,
and the doctor asks, "How many hours do you work?"
I say, "An eight-hour shift."
"Right, you shouldn't spend more than two in front of the PC."
Like I hadn't thought of working less, right?
You tell your boss later and they go, "Forget it.
The doctor says two hours, from now on, two hours it is.
Would you like me to blow you, too? I mean, since we're at it.
And I'll give you an extra bonus, just at face value."
The only real thing I actively do to work on my back pain
is complain.
I'd love for that to solve my problem.
Actually, I'd love it if complaining were a way
to solve any problem, like, in general.
Like, you come here and can't find a parking spot.
Yo go, "I can't believe this. Downtown's such a mess."
You find a spot.
Like, Do you get the mechanism? You complain, and it goes away.
You go to the supermarket and everything's expensive,
"I can't believe this inflation, what is this?"
Ten thousand dollars. Just like that.
Warmly sitting in your pocket.
Or you have sex with your partner and she's not coming,
"I want you to enjoy sex."
Her ex shows up and you go, "Okay..."
I don't find it that funny.
I joke around like that a lot with my partner.
"I bet you had great sex with your ex."
Awkward silence, she's like...
"Should we get ice cream?" Just lie to me, at least.
If you have a partner, do you joke around like that?
You don't.
Don't, if you do.
Never do.
Whatever, I'm super whiny, honestly.
Does anybody here think of themselves as whiny?
-Me. -"¡Me" Loved that. Who?
What's your name?
-Camila. -Camila. And you're very whiny.
-Yes. -About anything in particular?
-Life itself. -Oh, living.
About life itself, but About your life or in general?
It's my birthday today.
It's your birthday today?
Give it up for her, it's her birthday.
Happy birthday!
Listen, so you complain about life...
No, no, I complain about my schedule.
Your schedule?
-My tenant... -Your tenant?
She owns real estate and complains, really?
But... That annoys you...
What annoys you? I don't get it.
They call you because things break down.
Is that your job?
No, I'm not an electrician.
You're not an electrician.
Just the landlady.
They should call an electrician.
"Well, I said I had an apartment to rent out, I never said it had a roof.
Like, you assuming...
You assuming doesn't mean that I..."
I'm super whiny. I can complain about something
and immediately complain about the opposite.
I have no criteria. It's all the same.
Like, I'll be home and if my partner won't show affection,
I'll go, "What's wrong love? Why don't you kiss me?
What am I, a dog to you?"
But if she's too affectionate, I'll go,
"Get off of me. I'm not a dog. Shoo. Give me space."
And you know what really annoys me?
I get really annoyed by people who are happy all the time.
You know who they are?
They have these wide smiles on their faces.
They say, "Good morning," and it fucks my day up.
"What is it? What?
"What happened?" They arrive at the office at 7 am,
And go, "Good morning!" "What!?
What, did you do coke on the train? It's seven in the morning.
It should be illegal to be happy at this time, what is it? Besides,
has nothing bad happened to you? Even if it's slightly bad, like...
Hasn't your Internet bill gone up? Don't you have back pain?
Don't you have an uncle who says 'Hiya'?"
That just fucks up my day, you know.
I go, "Come on, Claudio, you're 73, what's with this 'Hiya'?"
Makes me wish he'd have his phone stolen on the train, you know.
And at the same time, I go, "I can't be this bitter, I'm a comedian.
My job is to make people laugh, I want people to be happy."
You know? It's like...
In fact, I always think,
if I could spread joy around, I would.
I think we all would. Picture it.
If we could go... Like this,
and make everybody happy, would we?
-No. -Yes.
I see, a lot of you suck.
I said... Hold on, Who said no?
There, what's your name?
Excuse me?
Agustina. Wouldn't you want to make everybody happy?
You don't have to pay for it, it's just...
You're told, "Here, this is your power,
snap your fingers, and you can spread joy."
You'd go,
"Oh, no, I can't."
You wouldn't? Why, it's like...
I see, you'd pick?
And pick yourself, too, obviously.
If you were about to google "masochism," let me just say...
I always think, "It'd be nice to snap your fingers
and live in a world where everybody could be happy."
I'd love that. And I'd love to strive to build a world
where everybody is happy and where everybody
can fulfil themselves, make their dreams come true. I really do.
It'd be nice to live in a world where everybody's dreams could come true.
And then I think, "I'm such a good guy."
I don't do shit for anybody, but I've thought about it.
How nice it'd be to fulfil people's dreams.
And as I think this, I go, "Well, I'm kind of a hypocrite, too."
Because I want everybody to make their dreams come true,
but at the same time, when I'm old and shit myself,
I'll want someone to change my diapers,
and whose dream is it to wipe a washed-out instagrammer's ass?
Then, let everybody fulfil their dreams, but three of you.
Sounds fair, right?
And I feel we set the bar too high in life.
I don't know if it's advertising, our parents, society, or all of the above,
but you gotta be the best.
Whatever you do, be the best at it.
Like, we're getting this wrong.
We hear, "To be the best, we must push ourselves."
You looked at me like, "Not so sure."
"Yes," I hear. But, actually, the rest being worse is enough.
I mean, it's not like you...
Say, if a kid loses a race,
they say, "Daddy, I shall run..."
He's weird, British.
It's possible, why not? The Brits exist.
No, for real, The Brits are out there.
You're all like "Doubt it."
"Daddy, I shall train harder next time."
And the dad goes, "Nah, here, shoot the one ahead twice."
If you're the only one who does something, you'll be the best at it.
Say I take this stool and shove it up my ass,
I'll be the best at masturbating anuses with a stool, right?
I personally feel that as soon as I remove it,
a Chinese guy will come along and be better, three stools, underwater.
What I'm getting at is that our expectations are too high.
It's hard because we compare ourselves to others.
I say, why not build a world made for people not to get frustrated?
A world more real.
Where kids learned about more realistic stuff at school.
Like, where the teacher said,
"Today we'll talk about our dreams and hopes,
our aspirations for the future.
Let's see, Luisito, what do you want to be?"
"I want to be an astronaut, discover a lot of..."
"come on, Luisito, really, an astronaut?
You're from the projects, an astronaut, really?
And you, Nico?" "I want to work at a call center
and get scoliosis." "Good job!
Learn from him.
You get an A."
I like that people say it, that they say that they're happy.
I constantly ask myself if I'm happy, as I'm so whiny, and I've found a concept
that defines how I experience happiness quite well.
Happiness, to me...
Remember the first cellphones, they had a game with a snake?
That really got to you.
"Yeah, the Snake!"
Got you crying. The snake game, for those of you who don't know,
is about a snake that walked and picked up apples,
well, maybe it didn't "walk," it "snaked,"
or did whatever the hell a you call what a snake does.
Whatever, folks. Any serpentologists in the room?
There. Whatever.
It walked and grabbed apples.
Once it did, the apple popped up somewhere else.
And the snake became longer.
Can you all get the picture?
Perfect. Happiness, to me, my experience of it, is that apple.
Happiness is there and it's hard to reach,
and as soon as you do, it instantly pops up elsewhere.
You desperately go after it, you catch it, and it pops up elsewhere.
And you go after it, and it pops up somewhere else.
And your chances of self-destroying get higher
until you die chasing after a happiness which is systematically somewhere else.
Because, in the game,
that fucking snake never caught the apple.
It stopped and said,
"I'm gonna enjoy this because I deserve it.
And it was the fruit of my labor."
No, it kept on till it died. I get that all the time.
I am that shitty snake.
I can't just be here enjoying myself
because I'm constantly thinking
about what I'm lacking, the what-ifs, comparing myself.
And that even happens when I have sex.
When I make out, I can't focus on that.
As I'm making out, I'm thinking, "I should be fucking.
Why am I not fucking, I should be fucking already."
As I'm fucking, I'm not thinking about the fact that I'm fucking,
I'm fucking and thinking, "I should be coming.
Right now, I should have come already."
And as I come, I say,
"I should do housework, so everything's clean tomorrow.
Was it good?"
I've realized I have a predisposition to get frustrated.
I think.
Doesn't it happen that sometimes you set goals
and it takes time to achieve them, things take time.
And when you achieve them, you feel like,
"Right, but I can't share it with my loved ones now."
And if I do, and achieve them fast I go,
"It happened so fast, I didn't enjoy the process."
I must have family issues. Question!
Any families, teenagers in the house?
Right, and are you with your family?
With your mom, how old are you?
Eighteen. Okay, "teenager"...
Okay. It counts as a teenager.
You may start flirting with getting a job...
But it's okay.
It's okay.
I mean, you can send out your CV.
But it's okay.
Nice. Question, so, you're with your mom,
do you get on well, do you talk about your feelings?
"We get on like shit," just imagine, how awkward this show would be.
-Do you talk to her about your stuff? -Yes.
That's so nice, because it was hard for me.
It was very hard for me to talk to my folks in my teens.
Not now, I don't have to talk to them because I don't live with them,
but, like, at the time it was like, "Darn it, I have to face them."
The thing is that it was hard for me to tell them what was going on with me,
or if I liked a girl or something had happened with a girl,
or if I felt insecure about something.
I always felt like... Say, I had a girlfriend,
my first girlfriend, we were together for almost five years.
She used to come home a lot, basically because we couldn't do it anywhere else,
anyway,
right? Your first girlfriend comes home
and they go, "They're listening to music." No, they're boning, but whatever.
Back then they met her and bonded with her.
But when we broke up, I couldn't tell them at the time.
In fact, I still haven't told them.
I think they may suspect something because I married someone else, but...
So, something very interesting started happening at my parents',
where I lived, and that is they started seeing I wasn't with anyone,
and the countdown began for me to come out of the closet.
They've never admitted to this.
It was just a feeling in the air.
I could feel it, I can't explain how.
I was like, one day I'd say, "Mom, Dad."
And heard them going, "Come on! This is it! He's gonna do it!
Don't cry! Don't cry!
We went to college, we got this. We're ouvert d'esprit."
They can't speak French, but it doesn't matter.
They'd come; their eyes all watery, "What is it, son?"
I'd go,
"I'm going out."
"In a miniskirt?" I mean...
Maybe I'm being judgmental about them being judge mental with me,
but I felt it to an extent where I remember confronting my dad.
I called him and went, "Dad, come here."
MY dad walks slowly, that's why...
I want to keep it realistic.
"Dad, do you have a problem with gay people?"
And I remember my dad goes, and I quote,
"No. I don't have a problem with gay people.
But if you're not one, that's better."
And I got so mad at my dad for saying that.
It made me want to be gay just to have my dad face that,
for my dad to understand that love is love,
it doesn't matter if you're a man, a woman...
But I didn't like men, still I wished...
so that he'd have to deal with it.
But it would have been weird for that to be the only reason
to be with a person.
Imagine the situation, the guy taking me from behind,
getting all... and going, "Oh,
What do you like most about me?" and me going,
"Pissing my dad off!
But keep it going, since we're at it."
I think family ties are complex.
I mean, I don't know, say...
My grandma is the funniest person I know.
My grandma is a 99-year-old lady
and she's always said she'd die young.
She constantly says she will die. The cause is unknown.
So, you go, "Grandma, what time is it?" "Probably time for me to die.
Right, right."
This is not new. It's always been this way. She's always said,
"I'll die young.
I won't make it to old age, I'll die young."
The old woman is 99.
How is that "not make it to old age" for her?
Ninety-nine. There isn't one original joint in that body.
I mean, you blow and the old lady crumbles, but she says,
"I won't make it to old age."
You see? "You might not fossilize, but make it to old age, you might."
I mostly laugh this off
because it's my grandma. She's always been like this.
But my mom has heard this all her life.
And for your mom to repeat "I'll die young" all her life,
"I'm not gonna make it..." It might have taken a toll on my mom.
So, you see, when parents have trauma,
the first thing they do is pass it on to their kids, right?
It's like a minute of solidarity.
So, my mom goes,
"Your grandma kept saying she would die
and not make it to old age, do you know how upsetting that was?"
I go, "Mom, it's my wedding, take a rain check on this?"
Parents are, like, allergic to seeing their kids happy,
I've noticed. And yes, I mean "allergic" because it's involuntary.
They see you're happy and guilt strikes. Right? Out of nowhere, like,
they can't handle it.
I think our parents love us more than anyone.
Undoubtedly. They are, to me, those
who push harder every day of their life
to make us happy. They suck at it, though.
Really.
Deep down, they aren't mean.
Parents to me are, let's say it, human.
And as humans, they carry a burden,
this baggage packed with fears, insecurities, frustrations...
And they love us so much, that they go, "Here, this is my gift to you.
For you to carry it for the rest of your life."
"No, thank you," know what I mean?
Because, indeed, they need the guilt trip
because suddenly you are...
"You know, we couldn't afford food when we were little.
Some days, we just dipped the bread in oil
and some days we didn't even have oil, we just air-dipped it.
What were we to do? We just did this!"
And you're listening, take-away coffee in hand, going,
"How is all this my fault, huh?
I'm gonna have this blueberry muffin stuck in my throat now forever.
Do you want me to throw it out? I will!
I already got my reward points anyway."
The other day, I was walking down the street
and my mom says, for the nth time,
"You know, your grandmother kept saying she was gonna die
and not make it to old age.
I'm not going to do that to you when I grow old.
I'm not going to because I won't be here."
I go, "Ma, you're doing it right now."
She says, "No.
I didn't say I was going to die.
I said I wouldn't be alive."
It reminds me of when you have to do a project
for school or uni,
and a classmate asks to borrow yours
and you tell them, "If you cheat, don't get caught."
And they'd say, "Chill, I'll change the wording."
And if you'd written "And then Perón became president."
He'd write, "President...
then became Perón."
That kid felt like he'd really hacked it.
So, my point about families is you can't choose them, okay?
But I'm not being mean about it, it's a fact.
You can't choose them. You're born into one and that's it. Right?
The baby opens their eyes, and it's like...
Wait, have you ever seen a baby?
Have you notice how they do this?
They're, like, checking out their hand. Crossing out expectations they might have.
As if saying,
"No. I might not achieve this. This...
A freelancer, maybe,
maybe, if I push enough..."
My point is you are born and get what you get.
Not like you go to the family supermarket before being born
and they go, "Hi, what are you looking for?"
"Parents, any trauma-free in stock?" "Sorry, we've run out of trauma-free.
We're out of stock."
My point is... I love my family.
If I could choose them again,
I definitely would because I love them.
I'd bargain for a better price though, just that.
We came to the conclusion that we can't stand each other
on a trip we took to Paris many years ago.
I didn't need to say it was in Paris,
but as a middle-class Argentine I need to rub it in people's faces
that I've traveled, you know.
People go, "Do you like pasta?" "Oh, I had these gnocchi in Paris..."
Now, if you had those gnocchi in Las Toninas, you wouldn't say it.
People would go, "Do you like pasta?" "I have celiac disease, fuck off."
If you're middle class, you'll have traveled.
On the trip we fought like cats and dogs.
See, a family trip is like a board game.
It sounds fun,
but everybody ends up filing a complaint, am I right?
I'm very attentive.
Family holidays are overrated.
Why do we do it?
At the beach, I pay attention to families with little kids.
Like, it's full-on tension.
The kid drops their corn, "The corn!"
So, the kid picks it back up, "Sorry." And their teeth fall out as they eat sand.
Kid goes in the water. "Don't go in the water!
What are you thinking?"
Kid's all hot and sweaty, you know.
The ice cream man goes by and mom covers the kid's eyes, "Don't look at him!
Our ice pops are better."
There's a guy with four beach chairs and the cooler going,
"Norma, where are we going with all this?
Did you need to bring all this to the beach, Norma?"
I sometimes go, "Is this what you chose to do on your holidays?
You've worked all year for this?
Why don't you just admit that you hate each other?"
In hindsight, nobody in my family was in the wrong.
We just wanted different things at the time.
I remember I wanted to go to a museum, my brother, to a park,
my parents, to the year when they were child-free...
Nobody was in the wrong, you feel me?
Besides, we were all fighting.
The atmosphere was so charged,
it was hard to remember who you had fought with last.
I'd tell my brother, "Dad's an idiot."
And he'd go, "You just fell out with me."
"Well, you, too, FYI."
The only thing keeping families together is hatred toward another family member.
That's cute.
I remember being so over it,
my family, I mean, that I went, "I need to cut ties with you,
like, I'm on my own. Enough. That's it.
Oh, yeah, but give me money for a soda because
I want to start my independence with some sugar in my blood."
So we went to Paris, I repeat.
Dad booked an all-inclusive tour.
In case you're thinking about doing it, here's how it works.
It's distinctive feature is that, in the end, nothing is included.
It's like... zombies trying to scam you out of your money constantly.
You order a drink and they go, "Two euros."
"Drinks were included." "But what about the glass, huh?"
On top of that, Dad booked a religious tour. Let me tell you...
In my family, were all atheists.
And not the "I believe in energy" kind.
No, no, no. Full-blown atheists.
As in "I believe in nothing". As is "No one will come to our funeral."
Get it? Atheists...
full-blown.
It was so disrespectful to the other people on the tour,
those people were religious and spiritual.
The guide went, "This is the virgin's house,"
and all four of us in the back went, "I hope the virgin gets it in the ass."
On that trip, my father faced his greatest fear.
It was hard on our family to see the patriarch, our idol,
a hero... to see him scared to death, a fear I never knew he had,
and someone here might have it, too.
Take it easy...
The absolute, paralyzing fear of being left behind by the tour bus.
If the driver said, "We're leaving at 10 am,"
at 7:15 am my dad would already be like "Noooo.
Don't leave us!"
What's that about? Watching Home Alone
really made its mark on him, it seems.
You know, something happened on that trip.
We went to many hotels, you know, where breakfast is included...
Yes, I personally like to make the most of breakfast.
Wait, I don't think you fully understand.
To make the most of it is not to have it.
We all have breakfast, making the most of it means...
Putting some away for later, you follow me?
If you're smart about it it, you get a little afternoon snack, too.
And if you're even smarter, you may even work out dinner.
I like to think of it as "holding on to souvenirs."
Other people may call it "stealing," but I...
I like... you know, you come back and open your suitcase and go,
"Look, a mug, a place mat, a waiter," who knows, you know?
Small gifts for people.
Like, "Grandma, I thought of you.
Look what I brought you, some spreadable butter,
you keep asking for it, saying you want some."
So, I like that, but...
That first day I was with my parents and I start making my sandwich,
but, I don't know if you've had this, the waitstaff is there,
hotel staff, so, you can't hide the sandwich
because they're looking at you, they'll tell you off.
I get scared, nervous.
Like, you have to be smooth.
It's different with elderly women. They're nonpunishable.
They take their Tupperware,
make eye contact with the wait staff,
"Whatcha lookin' at, punk?
Can't you see we need more cheese, damn it?"
Not me, I was shy.
The first day, when nobody was watching, I went...
My dad caught me and went,
"What are you doing?
That's stealing.
Is that what we taught you?" He calls Mom, "What do you think?"
"I'll die young, won't make it to old age. Lemme tell you.
I know so."
So, they tell me off, but after a couple of days,
they start realizing how expensive it is to eat out every day,
so, they got into the idea of me pitching in a bit.
A week from the day of this occurrence,
I was in charge of the food situation.
But they were all in, too.
My dad drank his coffee like this to cover me.
My brother collected plates with stuff and brought them to me.
Mom, if needed, would faint in the corner and fake a seizure.
I'd leave the breakfast area with a carry-on, like this.
The last day, Dad ran out with a toaster oven.
"Up yours, fancy frogs."
So, this is the takeaway of the show.
Like, I want people to remember this message.
If you've hit a rough patch with your family, steal.
That...
will bring you closer together... for real.
Okay, we're hitting the halfway mark here.
I'd like to know, Are you ready
to hear about my first sexual experience?
Yes!
Was it with you?
Well, ready or not, here it goes.
Are you okay?
As you know, I had this... my first girlfriend.
So, we had made out a lot, but hadn't hooked up yet.
You know? Like, the farthest we'd gone was dry humping.
Have you heard of the concept?
Dry humping happens when two people do like this, but fully clothed.
So, I remember her saying, "Come over, no one's home."
And I was like, "I can't. I've spilled some yogurt.
Right here, can you believe it?
This is such bad luck!"
"Oh, yeah, that smells."
You're familiar with the concept of dry humping, then, right?
Has anybody ever done that here before?
Oh, I see many hands up.
Who said yes?
Me.
"Me." She's so proud. "Me!" What's your name?
Luján. And is it always...? Like, every time you...?
No, with my first boyfriend.
Just your first boyfriend. It's not like you see a drying rack and get turned on.
You need the other person, right?
Question, out of ignorance...
Since you're well versed in dry humping,
Can you reach...?
Or...
Because, I don't know about you, but...
With you, maybe, I don't know, but...
In my case, the thing about it is going back home afterward.
With my legs together like this.
And listen, does it matter which clothes or are there any special items?
When you go, "I'm dry humping today."
Do you wear a soft panty? Does that make any difference?
-Leggings. -Leggings! Interesting!
Like, you look at a pair and go...
Right? Any any don'ts?
-Jeans. -Jeans.
Well, maybe the seams... But no, jeans are a no-no for you.
Okay, so the farthest we'd gotten was to the dry humping stage.
I get a summer job at a pizzeria at the beach
and when I come back, I take her
to a spa for the weekend.
I spent all that I'd made at the pizzeria those two months.
Whether the spa was expensive or I was underpaid, I don't know.
I really don't know, but the thing is
that we were there, the place was lovely.
You know how when you're in love and you're a teenager
you're amazed by everything?
I remember being there and going, "Whoa,
there are bedsheets!" Like, basic stuff.
I want you now to picture
what's to come, because what I'm about to tell you
is so stupid, but you gotta understand
that I was a teenager, I was insecure,
I wanted her to like me, I was nervous, I had no experience whatsoever.
So, we're both there.
Te place was really romantic, we played some soft music
turned down the lights and started making out.
Then, we got undressed. There we are,
I start kissing her body, real soft kisses.
You know when you kiss a person's body from top to bottom
and take your time? Taking my time nowadays
is something I'd never do.
Seven years we've been together! Her bra is off in three seconds,
and I go, "Okay, that's it, what a turn-off.
Let's go to bed, and make room for me.
This is half and half, don't put your elbow on my side.
That line coming down from the ceiling marks the middle
and I won't allow it, you hear me?"
But not that day.
That day I took my time, I kissed every corner of her body,
and when I get to her third eye, so to speak,
I go, "I don't want to just use my tongue."
I want to do something that will make her go, "Wow!
Man, you've learned so much at the pizzeria!" I wanted
for her to ask me to marry her after going down on her.
So, I'm all nervous, I don't know what to do,
my first thought was to stick my mouth to her pussy and go...
Man, did I blow air into it.
I think I may have moved an organ.
A few seconds go by,
and I become aware of what I'm doing.
So, I remove my mouth from the pussy and the pussy just starts going...
The fart was never-ending!
She was so embarrassed, but it was 100 per cent my fault!
She said, "What the hell? How could you think of...?"
It just wouldn't stop. At times it went like this... and then start again.
It was endless!
It was a mix between a boat engine and a beatboxer.
And you know the worst part? I wasn't joking around.
I did it for love.
That was all I had to offer.
It's like if she had said, "Do something else,"
I had nothing else to give.
This is what I came up with after two months at the pizzeria.
Grown-ups don't tell you about this, which is important.
What do grown-ups say? "Use a condom.
Look both ways before crossing."
"Tell me not to blow air into a pussy, that's important!"
Does anybody here have little kids or nephews?
Next time you see them, tell then, "Listen kid, don't blow air into a pussy.
So what if you're five? This is life-changing advice."
Has this happened to anybody or just me?
Anybody?
Nope, never has anybody said, "Me."
So, we got over it, anyway,
as a couple, we moved on.
We were together for five years after that.
Then we broke up for other reasons, you know.
She didn't love me, to put it...
Right, I didn't find it as funny.
I was so upset at the time, I was really downhearted.
Maybe you've been there, hopefully not,
but I'm sure you've had you heart broken.
But that's like...
You feel like the most miserable person in the world.
Maybe you've felt that, especially after your first love.
I felt nobody in the world was as miserable as me.
I was a walking bagful of angst.
I was sad all the time.
I competed to be the most hurt person in the world.
I'd go wherever and as my friend went, "I'm so upset,"
I'd go, "I'm way worse, I don't know what to say."
"But my dad just died."
"Yeah, you dad was a dickhead, honestly."
What a drag to have a friend in the group who's been dumped!
They spread their sadness around.
People are dancing, singing, being happy,
and the recently-dumped comes and goes, "Let's turn it off, yeah?
Why don't we listen to the sound of her absence?
Listen.
That's my heart breaking into a million pieces.
Oh, you can't hear? That's because I have no heart, then."
They're all mopey, dramatic, and relate everything
to that person so effortlessly, like...
A tablecloth.
"She had a tablecloth!"
You know, you say, "Make an effort, dude."
Do you have a friend going through this now?
-Me. -"Me."
Are you laughing or crying? Excuse me.
-I'm crying, she's laughing. -She's sobbing and I'm laughing
at her pain. That's okay.
Who's the friend of the mopey one, say?
-I'm the mopey one. -"I am..."
Good night and thank you!
You are...
I got you, I'm not going to make you feel bad.
As soon as you stop crying, we'll go on. Take your time.
How long are you supposed to comfort someone who's been dumped?
-As long as they need. -"As long as it takes."
That's coming from the one who's hurting. Not the one offering comfort.
As long as she needs.
Is a month okay?
- Yes. -Six months?
No.
Right, isn't it? The lonely hearts club.
They've moped for 15 years.
"No, we must wait until the tattoo wears off."
Fucking hell.
I was miserable. For real, I remember it
as a time of deep pain, anguish...
Besides, have you heard about how you never forget your first love?
And do you know why it's true?
Because the first time you fall in love, especially when you're a teenager,
you give yourself to the other person.
There are no limits, you go full in,
you sign a contract with the other person that says,
"Here. Do with me whatever the fuck you like."
You take your heart and just give it to the other person.
It's like you get completely carried away.
And grown-ups say, "Watch out, don't rush in, be careful."
And you go, "Watch out? This is the real deal.
That won't... This is forever."
And then life goes, "Oh, it won't happen to you,
little fucker?
You'll set up a travel agency in 2020. You'll see what life's about.
Life is shit!"
Life knocks you out. Life is like Will Smith at the Oscars, right?
It knocks the wind out of you.
I was devastated at the time.
But I want to send a positive message out. You get over it.
A month goes by... you move on and fall in love.
I swear. You know how they say time heals all wounds?
That is true. But there is a downside to it.
And that is that you never fall in love like the first time.
Or rather, you don't give in like that because you have suffered.
Human beings don't want to suffer, we avoid it all the time,
so you fall back in love, but this time is like...
we put walls up, you know, we shield ourselves.
They ask, "So, you're super in love?"
"Yeah, I'm head over heels, why? What is it?
Are you looking to put me down, hurt my self-esteem all of the sudden?"
"If you're smitten, go ahead."
"Yeah, you go, I'll be right behind you, slowly.
My therapist by my side, it's all good."
I was devastated and she calls me
to go get some stuff. She was living by herself by then.
I had left a box of my stuff. Small things like
a toothbrush, my underwear, my will to live,
my faith in humankind. Just things I hold dear.
It's weird to meet up with an ex.
I don't know if you've ever had to?
Yeah, ouch. Are you laughing or crying?
Okay. What's your name?
Gabriel. So, did you meet up? What for?
-I ran into her at the pharmacy. -At the pharmacy.
A tough one, right?
May we know what you were there for?
-To get medicine. -To get medicine, okay.
Not for a box on condoms, like, "Hey,
how's it going?"
Do you know what she was there for?
A pregnancy test, that would lead to flogging.
"Hey, What up?" Okay?
Right.
Did you do it at the pharmacy?
Who has had to meet up with an ex to have the talk?
It's so awkward, right?
Are you all crying? I don't get it, folks.
Have you?
Where did you arrange to meet? Like, a house or...
No, we talked about the dog.
His excuse was that he wanted to say goodbye to the dog.
Say goodbye to the dog?
If you google how to show that you don't give a fuck about someone,
that is, "Hey, I want to see the dog."
That's fine.
I remember going to pick up the box that day
and it was like... I didn't know how to approach her.
"Do I shake hands, kiss her, hug her?
I blew air into your pussy, but now, however, I am..."
I didn't know how to greet her. keep in mind I was miserable
and wanted to pretend I was fine.
I was like a baby being feed lemon. You know, babies go like this...
I wanted to make it seem like I had things going for me.
Like, "Yeah, I'm super busy.
Next week I have to go to the supermarket.
I have a coupon."
It was sad, uncomfortable, she just handed me the box.
She says, "Here." And I turn around,
and as I was leaving, she goes, "Dari, wait."
And I turn around like, "She came round after me asking to give it a try,
to not let this big love that we have built die."
I looked into her eyes, put the box down,
I was about to say, "I still love you, too."
And she looks at me and goes, "Never tell the pussy fart story."
So, this is my revenge, basically.
I called and asked for permission. She was like, "Yeah, it's fine."
So, I go, "Cool, cool. Put gel on it."
But I'm in love now, more in love than ever.
Everything before was a lie, I fell harder than ever.
I'm married. Is anyone here married?
It shows in your excitement.
Any couples in the room? Can I ask a question?
Are there any couples on a double date?
Like, a couple that came with another couple?
Are there any here now?
There. How many are you?
Four. Two and two, say.
Because nowadays you never know. Polyamory is so weird.
So, two different couples. Okay.
And you're all friends? Or is it just two of you who're friends?
He's your brother-in-law.
Do you have sex within your family? No, no, that's fine.
You fuck your siblings, it's cool, it's all good.
Alright, cool.
I'm gonna get going, then...
So, double dates annoy me.
Not the concept itself, but that it's not labeled
as an extreme sport. Because it is so risky
to do what the guys here are doing. What do I mean?
You jump off the plane and people go,
"That's extreme!"
But you go, "I went on a double date,"
and nobody thinks of it as an extreme sport. And it is.
Because it's this false neutral ground where there's a false sense of comfort,
but it's where we air our dirty laundry,
where our darkest secrets come out.
Because there is this sense of comfort, people are laughing
and talking, sharing stories,
so, the conversation flows and... "This one here farts like a mother..."
So, you get back to the car, and you can cut the tension with a knife.
Your partner goes, "What's the time?"
"Well, apparently it is farting-like-a-motherfucker time!"
I overshare. I admit I overshare.
Do you know when I realized?
After I overshared.
But it's because the conversation leads you to, the false sense of comfort.
So, you say, "They won't judge me." Lies! They fucking will.
But you are sharing stories, laughing, drinking,
they say something vulgar, you share an intimate story,
along the lines of, "My ex had a great ass."
Your poker face's on, but inside you're like,
"I fucked up, didn't I?
What's that?
Right, the producer just confirmed.
I have, indeed, fucked up. I just got confirmation."
Right. You never want that night to end,
because as soon as you leave, all hell will break loose.
So, you make eye contact with your partner, who's just in it,
riding that wave of comfort. So, you see her, she's laughing,
"Maybe she forgot.
Maybe she took it well."
But then you make eye contact with her and she's like...
You never want the night to end.
You start stalling, like... Your friend yawns and you go,
"Let's have a pajama party.
I'll move in, what do you think?"
Your friends can also make you look bad
because we don't usually send emails
with a list of approved topics.
So, you're there, trying to eat a slice of pizza,
trying to have a good time, when your friend goes,
"That one time, in Villa Gesell, he..." And you're there like...
What happens in Villa Gesell, stays in Villa Gesell.
Have you ever been on holidays to Villa Gesell?
-Any stories to share? -No.
You see?
The upside is you know your friend, so, you can do the same to them.
That's when you say, "So, what's up with your cousin? Are you close with her?
Have you ever gone camping with a cousin?"
Personally, we can't do everything with our partners.
We need to stop believing that we have to go everywhere together.
Those of you in a relationship, do you consider it important?
-No. -It's okay.
Those of you in a relationship, say,
there's a familiy member's birthday party,
so you ask your partner, "Can you come with?"
And your partner says "no," do you take offense?
-Yes. -"Yes". That's great.
We were so open-minded and then... Over there, who said "yes"?
Right there. How long have you been in a relationship?
-Two years. -Two years. Is he here?
-No. -No.
That's odd... Wait a minute!
I wonder what he is doing...
You tell him, "It's my aunt's birthday."
He says, "I'd rather not go." What do you do?
-He comes anyway. -"He comes anyway". That's great.
Google "democracy," you'll see her doing this.
Go ahead, google "democracy." She'll come up.
I believe you don't have to do everything together. I mean...
I work on weekends, so, I can't do anything anyway.
She reminds me of it every chance she has, but sometimes I've got free time
so, she says, "We are going to Naty's birthday."
And I'm like: "But I haven't voted on that.
You'll see...
At the ballot box opening, there will be a single ballot.
I haven't cast my vote. I haven't excercised my rights."
Why is that? I tell her how I feel
I don't pretend. "Honey, why do I have to go?
Who the fuck is Naty?"
She is in her thirties, everybody's called Naty,
I don't know what the fuck happened back then!
She says, "C'mon, Dari. She's the one that's pregnant!"
When you are in your thirties, all your friends are pregnant. You go,
"Are they being paid to repopulate the planet?"
What's going on?
When you go to a gathering with moms and dads,
they become Jehova's witnesses
trying to co-opt you.
As soon as you arrive, they ask, "When are you having a baby?"
And you are like, "Get off me! Don't you touch me, freak!"
I... I have wanted to be a parent for a long time now,
but in two years' time. I mean...
I have longed for it for a long time, but in two years' time.
I mean, right now I want to be a parent...
in two years. Most likely next year... I'll want to wait for another two.
Besides, moms and dads... Are your friends like this?
They are always trying to get you to join the club,
but they have a strange marketing strategy.
They say,
"Since Lauti was born...
we don't sleep anymore.
Maybe we get 15 minutes a year, don't we? I mean.
Personal projects, I mean...
fuck them, you know...
Our life as a couple...
We hate each other.
But you have to have to have a baby.
"When the baby looks at you..." "Why doesn't yours look at me?
Can I borrow them so they can fill me with their energy? Would do you think?"
I'm not afraid of being a parent because of the child per se,
I'm afraid of turning into one of those people who have children.
Those who once they have become parents are lost forever, you know?
You used to be friends, but no longer.
A friend of mine, whenever I send him a message to know how he is doing,
He replies with a picture of his son.
And I think, "I asked you how you were doing.
If I wanted to know how the rascal was,
I would have sent them a message."
"He can't reply because he is one."
"So, I don't give a fuck about the fucking rascal's pic.
Is your phone full of photos of the rascal?
Are they all the same fucking picture of them going like this?"
They send a picture. "Today, our first tooth came out."
"I don't fucking care about the tooth.
Your son can bite my dick with his tooth and build a canal on it.
That pussy son of yours.
I don't give a fuck!"
Anyway, I think I'll do the same when I'm a parent.
I'm gonna be like all those parents I complain about now.
For instance, some parents say, "When I have a son, no tablet."
And the tablet ends up raising him.
He graduates from college, the tablet
gives him his diploma, because it raised him.
Someone with kids laughed at that.
I hate arguing, so, when she says, "We are going to Naty's birthday party
in the suburbs," what do I say?
Same as her boyfriend, "Let's go to Naty's birthday."
It's always the same. She leaves me there next to the grill
next to the other boyfriends, who don't know anyone at the party either.
As if we were at the lost and found department.
So awkward!
I'm thinking, "I wish someone would say something."
One of them says, "Who did you vote for?"
"Well, let's keep it..."
I just don't like arguing. So, I avoid conflict.
Do you know what we argue a lot about with my partner?
Cell phone usage. I think it's a very modern issue.
I mean, it affects our generation,
not generations a century ago.
"Marco Aurelio, Did you have to bring the typewriter to bed?"
But now it does, especially since people are addicted to cell phones.
Those of you in a relationship, Do you argue about this?
Cell phones annoy me a lot. Let's say she goes out.
I call her once, but she doesn't pick up.
Call her twice, doesn't pick up. Thrice, no answer.
I'm not trying to be controlling.
I want to know if she'll come home, if she wants me to cook dinner,
if I can jerk off. I just want to schedule my afternoon, you know?
What sets me off is that, then, she arrives,
she sees my messages and says, "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't see them.
It was on airplane mode. I didn't hear it ringing, I didn't have a signal."
"Don't say 'sorry,' it's fine to take a break from your phone."
I really don't care, what bothers me is
that, when she is with me,
she is constantly holding her phone.
So I think, "What's the deal?
Am I a WiFi antenna?"
I've never seen the palm of her hand, you know?
When we have sex, I take off her shirt, her bra,
the cell phone case. What's different
when she leaves the house?
Do you know the worst part? Suppose we go out,
we go grab dinner somewhere.
I'm driving because she doesn't like to drive,
I'm driving and she is looking at her phone.
But she doesn't tell me what she's doing.
I truly believe she's twitting out, "Single for the night,
who's DTF?" You know?
I'm not on my cell phone at that precise moment
because I have a strong survival instinct, so...
Let's say when we get to the restaurant, I put my finger in my pocket
to look at my cell for a minute, she goes,
"Are you for real?
You are actually going to use your phone?
We're trying to have a nice romantic evening,
and you are on social media?" And I think: "I'm horrible.
I'm a horrible person." But it drives me mad.
She had some time to herself back in the car.
She had it and I did not have it.
You know, that moment to yourself when you can go on Instagram. We need it.
That moment when you think, "My life is shit, but I need Instagram.
I need to see people being happy to corroborate it.
You are on Instagram, see someone chilling at a pool...
"Yep, my life is shit." Get it?
Like, she's not applying the same criteria for her and me.
That's what bothers me.
I believe some day I'll catch her
having sex with another guy in our bedroom and I'll tell her, "Honey,
I thought we were to be faithful." And she'll go, "Well,
from this moment on, we won't have sex with others, okay?"
Those of you in a relationship, do you think monogamy is important?
-Yes -"Yes", usually it's a yes.
You know, people who think monogamy is important
have an issue with their egos. And I want to explain why.
Why do I say this?
If you have a partner and think monogamy is important,
roughly speaking, details of each couple aside, it means
that your partner can't sleep with another person, do you agree?
Now, if you love your partner,
you wish them the best because you love them.
And if you wish them the best, make it at everything,
including sex.
Let me ask you, Do you think you are great at sex?
Because I have had sexual encounters
where I turn and see myself in the mirror, and I look like a zombie having a stroke,
trying to cop a feel, my dick coming out,
and going, "Do you like that?"
I feel like, "Is this what I want for the person I love forever?"
Because if you think you are a 10 in the sack, you go, "I'm a 10."
It's okay if you go, "Be faithful to me because it doesn't get better than a 10."
Let me ask a serious question.
Does anybody here think they're a 10?
Come on, we can go down to two. Don't worry, folks.
-Does anybody here think they're a nine? -Yes.
-What was your name? -Fernando.
Fernando.
Fernando, are you a nine?
A nine. you're the best in the room. Give it up for Fernando. A nine.
Okay.
Do you have any tip or secret you'd like to share?
-Excuse me? -Foreplay.
-A lot.
A lot. How much is a lot?
-30, 40 minutes. -30, 40 minutes.
His tongue looks like this.
He gets to the call center saying, "how can I help you?"
Okay.
But Fernando...
can somehow demand that their partner be monogamous
because he's the best around, sure, it's like saying,
"Don't go looking, you can't get better than a nine. I'm a nine, get it?
So, now I'm going to ask a question and I'm going to clap, too.
Can we put our hands together for those below eight or seven?
"It depends on the day. I'm full. I'm tired. I'm anxious. Whatever."
Can we put our hands together for those who fall within that category?
That's the point! Most people know
that they are below-average at it, but for some wierd reason, they ask,
nay, demand, their partner settle for that.
It's like making your loved one a bowl of rice,
and your partner says, "Okay, I'll season it."
"Nope. Just like plain that."
"But it's kind of bland." "Right. For the rest of your life."
If you stand up for monogamy,
rather than love, what you feel is fear,
fear that your partner will see you were not the best choice,
fear that your partner will one day say,
"Dude, I've tried this coming thing and it was great."
If you are truly in love, If it's love that you feel,
you need to ask your partner,
"Baby, do you want to have a night of passionate sex?"
"Oh, yes!"
"Honey, do you want to have the best sex of your life?"
"Yes, dear!"
"Do you want to have 40 orgasms?" "Yes."
"Go fuck Fernando because you won't get that with me."
Folks! Good night! Thank you for lending me your ears!
Thank you very much.
To everybody that has made this possible.
I'm going to take a selfie. Please, dim the lights.
Put your hands up if you felt happy during the show,
or if you've fucked Fernando, which is kinda the same.
I'm going to... take a picture or record? What do you say?
Both. First, I'm going to take a picture.
It depends...
Put your hands up if I made you happy.
And now I'm going to make a video, you may scream and whatnot.
Now for real, people.
Good night! Thank you, really, for being here.
Thank you so much, everybody.
Thank you so much.