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Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome to the stage, Lara Beitz!
Official YIFY movies site: YTS.MX
Hollywood, my god!
Fuck, yeah, we got some hotties with some bodies in the house tonight,
looking good, like what I see.
We got some ankles in this bitch, okay.
I saw a guy on a motorcycle with a guitar strapped to his back.
I was like, "Damn, how much pussy is this guy trying to get?"
All of it? Shit.
Leave some for everybody else, dude, damn.
Hold on to your pussies, ladies, this guy's coming through, watch out.
My goodness.
But in my head, I'm just like, "How ugly is this guy that he needs both?"
Probably has a bunch of tattoos, too,
a sick-ass body, fucking loser.
Who here, just by applause, who's been on a motorcycle before?
Me too.
Been on a couple, not a big deal.
Top speed, 25 miles an hour.
Thought I was going to die the entire time.
But afterward, the guy's just like, "It's fun, right?"
I'm like, "I peed on your ass."
Awful.
Dude, you don't scare the shit out of me.
I live on a third floor apartment.
They trimmed the trees outside my place.
No email, no note,
just I look out my window, feet away from me
is a goddamn guy in my tree with a chainsaw.
I was like, "Great, now I'm horny."
I had a ton of shit to do today.
Now I got to stand here flirting with you.
That one scared me, dude. I was like, "Jesus Christ, I'm fucking naked.
"What are you doing up here? Like, yeah, I took off my clothes once I saw you,
but still."
"Stop looking at me."
No, he did look in, but there wasn't much to see.
Just me and the cats.
Doing our day.
I have two cats so far.
The girl one is fat,
and everyone who's ever seen her has felt the need to point that out to me.
Which, I got this cat when it was six years old.
She looks like fucking shit.
She has a piece of her ear missing.
God knows where that went.
She has black shit in her eyes at all times.
That's non-negotiable.
She has a snaggle tooth.
No one ever has shit to say about any of that.
I'm just like, I didn't do any of this to this cat.
This is what she looked like when I got her.
This was a floor model.
They're like, "Well, that's not healthy. She's overweight."
Then don't fuck her. What do you want from me?
You mind getting off her case, please?
Let my cat exist in her body?
Sorry she won't make the calendar this year.
You fucking asshole.
My boy cat needed dental work recently.
That fucked me in the ass to the tune of two goddamn grand.
Mm-hmm.
And they act like you're a piece of shit
if you bat an eye at the price.
This lady's like, "Well, he needs it."
Well, I need $2,000, bitch.
That's the conversation that's being had right now.
Fuck me trying to keep a roof over our heads,
even though Dusty has cavities.
You mind giving me 30 seconds to come to terms with how fucking fucked I am right now?
Unreal. It's like they expect you to jump out of your seat and be like,
two grand for my cat's teeth,
which I never thought about in my entire life up until this moment.
Fuck yeah, dude.
Make it three! I'll sell my car.
I am so sorry that I paused for one second to think about it.
I was forgetting I have a car that I can sell
to pay you for my cat's teeth.
Which, have you seen a mouthful of cat teeth before?
They're the smallest thing in fucking existence.
They have two pointy ones.
The rest of them are grains of sand.
I'm like, what are you talking about right now?
Turns out they're more expensive than diamonds if you go by what they wear.
That is true. That is true.
I was like, if you bring that cat back out here
and his mouth isn't filled with diamonds,
so help me, I will rip this kitten poster off the goddamn wall.
They gave me an itemized bill for the care he'd received.
I was like, "You mind time maybe asking me
how comfortable I think we need to keep this cat?"
Because I feel like maybe we could have done without the satin pillow here on page 9.
$100 I paid for cat morphine.
That's street prices.
And they sent us home with two little vials of cat morphine.
And it made me nervous because I am a drug addict.
I'm 10 years clean and sober now.
Thank you, but I didn't get that far by keeping opiates in my home.
I was like, I don't know if I should have this shit, honestly.
I was like, "Fuck it," I called the vet.
I was just like, "Yeah, so first things first, I do want to be crystal clear.
I'm not planning to take my cat's medicine to get fucked up.
But if I did, what would happen?"
And I could hear the lady like trying to figure out if I was fucking with her or not.
She was just like, "Uh, all right, well, first of all, it's cat morphine.
It's chemically a completely different drug.
We didn't just give you a little bit of human morphine."
And I felt so stupid.
And then she was like, "And also, you're not 8 pounds."
I was like, whoa, bitch.
Is it not human morphine, or am I not eight pounds?
Because maybe if it's not human morphine,
we don't even need to talk about my weight.
Maybe if it's not human morphine, you can give me one moment to be like,
"Oh, okay, thank you so much. That's plenty of information. Let's end the call."
She was like, "I'm just saying, even if you took all of it at once...",
which, ding, ding, ding, that's how I would do it.
If I'm taking my cat's medicine to get fucked up,
I'm not going to take it as directed.
I'm not going to be like, "Oh, fuck yeah, it's been six hours.
Time to party. Here we go."
She was like, "I'm just saying, even if you took all of it at once,
you probably still wouldn't feel anything."
See, I knew you were going to say something like that.
I can already feel it.
I need to know if I'm peaking. I got a night to plan.
People hate cats, though, dude. People will be like,
"If you died, your cats would eat you."
I hope they would.
I'm dead, they're starving.
Ashes to ashes, baby. Bon appetit.
Eat up, dude. Or they'll be just like, "Dogs are smarter than cats."
Who gives a shit?
I'm smarter than all of them.
They didn't get it to help me with my taxes.
I got it because it's a stuffed animal that walks around.
It's hilarious.
I'm afraid of dogs, though.
I don't understand how anybody isn't.
Some of them are basically wolves.
And I hate when I tell people I'm scared of dogs,
and they're just like, "No, you just have to relax because they can smell the fear."
I'm like, "Oh, that is relaxing. Thank you.
So it'll only attack me if I feel how I do feel right now?
Fitbit's about to jump off my wrist
because it thinks I'm working out too hard.
But oh, okay, I'll calm down
now that I know I'm attracting the attack.
My girl cat has heartburn now,
so I have to give her a fourth of a Zantac every day.
That's been a waking fucking nightmare.
If you have to give a pill to a dog, you put it in cheese.
The dog's like, "Cool, cheese," end of discussion.
If you have to give a pill to a cat, the cat's like,
"Break all four of my fucking legs, bitch."
"You want to get to me? You're going to have to go through me.
And I'm about to be ridiculous."
Slide tackling this fucking animal every day.
Afraid I'm going to snap its neck.
And by the time I get her pinned down, the pill is dust.
Have to rub it into her gums like it's fucking cocaine.
They took her blood, and the vet was just like,
"Well, she's a little dehydrated.
Try to get her to drink more water."
Oh, OK, I'll let her know.
How would I even begin to attempt to communicate that to this cat?
I'm like, she has a bowl with water in it.
That's where I clock out, dude.
Honestly, one of her two jobs every day is to lap up a little bit of that.
If she can't handle that, fuck her, truly.
Just about had it with this shit.
He said if she doesn't stop barfing, I have to get her an ultrasound.
Those are $1,000.
I was like, let's get one thing straight.
I didn't get myself an ultrasound
when I was bleeding out of my ass for a month and a half.
I drove up to Ojai and I saw a witch.
That's true.
She was a good witch.
She fixed my shit for like a week.
Then the spell wore off. I don't know what happened.
I thought that she was a doctor.
My friend kept calling her Dr. M.
I thought I was driving up there to see a specialist.
I got up there, no degrees on the wall.
I was like, wait a second. Doctors don't have wind chimes.
And a plug-in phone? I know what this is.
I'm in a witch's hut.
She performed tests on me that have never been seen in a doctor's office.
She got my hand wet with, swear to God, a makeup sponge.
She had me hold onto this metal thing,
and then she showed me lines on her computer.
She was like, "This one says you have mold in your lungs.
This one means you have candida everywhere.
This one says your kidneys are fucked."
None of them are labeled.
I'm like, first of all, this is a butt plug.
None of this is medical.
But she fixed my shit.
I got sick again pretty quick after that.
Nice to have a break, you know. What are you going to do?
I was talking to my mom. My mom was like, "Are you still doing the diarrhea?"
I'm like, what do you mean
"doing?"
This isn't an activity I chose.
It's a cross I bear.
You mean am I still a victim of the natural disaster
that is my asshole? Yeah.
I remain a survivor.
They prescribed me antibiotics at one point.
I went to pick them up. Insurance wouldn't pay for them.
I was like, "All right, well, how much are they without insurance?"
$2,800 for a course of antibiotics.
I was like, do you guys have it where I've heard of people sucking dick for pills?
Do you guys have like a dick sucking line that can happen?
It'd be faster than me earning $2,800.
This body of mine, man.
I tried learning how to do the split six months ago,
so I'm in physical therapy now.
My hip, I was telling my friend about it, and he was just like,
"Do you have sciatica?" I was like, I don't know.
He was like, well, if you had sciatica, you would know.
I'm like, not if I don't know what it is.
I wouldn't just like intuitively know that.
And then he told me what it was. I was like, "Oh, yeah, no, I don't have that.
I would know."
I don't think I have a good doctor, dude.
He wears sandals.
That's not a great sign.
Nothing says bottom of your class in med school like an open toe.
Last time I saw him, his shirt had mushrooms on it.
I was like, why are you telling me you do acid right now?
But he was the first doctor to tell me I'm autistic.
I had regular people telling me for years,
but he was the first doctor.
I didn't move my arms when I walked.
For the first 25 years of my life, your girl was just cruising, dude.
Just not wasting any energy on anybody.
If you couldn't have seen my legs, you would have thought I was on wheels, truly.
Just rolling in and out of rooms, gliding.
You know why I didn't move my arms when I walked?
Because you don't need to.
You walk with your legs. I'm the fucking asshole?
For not swinging my shit around for no reason everywhere I go?
You wanting to do that is just left over from when we were still on all fours.
Sorry I evolved.
But I started swinging my arms around, too.
Doesn't come naturally to me, though.
I had to learn how to walk like a regular person
the way most people learn the steps to a dance.
Because it's opposite arm, opposite leg.
Once I get going, I'm fine.
Opposite arm, opposite leg.
You can't do same arm, same leg. That's not good enough for anybody.
Same arm, same leg, people shit on you as fast as they will for anything else.
Another one of my autisms is I'm very smart at, like, two things
and I'm stupid at everything else.
And people don't know that, so they have no patience for my dumbness.
If you're obviously slow, people are just like, "Oh, that's okay, this is hard.
Good work, I can tell you're trying."
But if you seem smart, people are like, "What are you, fucking stupid?
I'm like, yeah, I am, actually. It's very challenging.
I'm not, like, fucking with you, pretending not to understand this.
I have a lot of sensory issues, too.
I wear earplugs a lot.
Sometimes I need them when I'm just with one other person,
and people don't like that.
I was hanging out with my buddy.
I tried to, like, sneak them in,
and he was just like, "I'm sorry, am I talking too much?"
I was like, "No, I'm just, I'm sensitive to sounds."
And he was like, "Yeah, you say that, but the only sound I hear is me talking."
I was like, I don't know what to tell you, man.
You're kind of backing me into a corner on this one.
I like what I hear, I'm just turning it down.
I don't know what to tell you.
But I made a woman cry at my last day job I had before I went full-time doing stand-up.
I was actually working with autistic people,
which was part of how I realized I was one.
I was like, we shouldn't both be wearing earplugs right now.
But yeah, I made this woman I worked with cry.
She was playing a song right behind me, and I asked her to turn it down.
I told her it sounded like nails on a chalkboard,
and she put her guitar away, but she was pretty hurt.
Stuff comes out of my mouth, and it sounds way meaner than it feels to me.
Like, I miss a lot of social cues, and it comes off the wrong way,
and I'll realize it way later or when someone tells me about it,
but I don't know that I'm doing it.
So if you try to talk to me after the show, I will be weird as fuck to you.
That's true. I won't want to be, I try to be social.
I go to parties if I'm invited.
That wasn't supposed to be the funny part.
But you have to if you want to have friends.
Do I set a timer for 60 minutes on my watch
and leave after I've put in my hour?
Why, yes, I surely do.
Do I take bathroom breaks when I don't have to pee?
Wouldn't be a party if I didn't.
But I'm there, baby.
I went to a party and a guy asked me
if I would be more scared if I was in the woods and I came across a bear or a man.
And I was like, a bear, obviously.
And he was like, "99% of women have been saying a man."
And then this woman was just like, "I would be more afraid if I saw a man."
And I said, that's annoying because I don't believe you,
which, great example of something I didn't realize was rude until...
the next day.
I was like, oh, you can't just call people annoying.
And I left the party that night being like, "Oh, I made friends."
But she was just like, "No, I would be more afraid to see a man
because I know women who are murdered by their partners."
I was like, okay, is the guy in the woods your partner?
Because if it's not, I would still be more afraid of the bear.
Yeah, more men kill women than bears.
We also interact with a lot more men than we do bears. Don't we?
If you went one day where you saw as many bears...
as you normally see guys,
you would die that day.
More cars kill people than bears, too,
because we're not out here riding bears to work.
We have sex with men. Try fucking a bear.
Let me know how that goes.
A bear would literally eat your pussy.
You wouldn't be more afraid if every guy in here was a bear?
I would.
How the fuck am I supposed to make these things laugh, right?
If you say you're more afraid of men than bears,
I hope you get attacked by both.
Anyway, that's me at a party.
I have the self-awareness to know when I'm being weird as fuck,
but I don't have enough to know how not to be.
I think it's that feeling of, like, if you get way too high,
when you're just like, "All right, hold the eye contact till it feels bad."
"Once it feels bad, that's the right amount."
"Oh, shit, what if I swung too far in the other direction,
and now I'm being weird that way? Look away. Oh, my God."
"Look at how much they're doing. Do that much to that guy."
And by then, the guy asked me a question a minute ago.
I'm just standing there.
I was really nervous when I got tested for autism,
because I was like, I better have it.
What if I don't?
There's just no reason for this.
The doctor writes up my report, and she's like,
"Yeah, it turns out you do understand social cues."
"You're just a weird bitch."
I whooped fucking ass on the puzzles part of the testing.
She was like, "Wow, you finished that one? Most people don't get that far."
I was like, "I know, what's next?"
And then proceeded to bomb balls at every other one.
Puzzles are my special interest. I do 1,000-piece puzzles every day
because the bigger ones don't fit on my table,
and the smaller ones are for babies.
And people get them for me as gifts,
but they don't always know what kind to get me.
Like, they'll get me a big landscape with a huge sky.
Fuck a sky.
Do you know how hard it is to assemble 750 blue puzzle pieces?
I'm not that autistic.
Or they'll get me one that's like 350 pieces.
I'm like, "Oh, this is gonna be a cool 10 minutes."
I take them on the road with me when I travel.
I'll check a bag full of puzzles.
I'm not allowed to do them at my sister's house anymore
because she's an awful bitch who doesn't understand me.
My sister's the one person who just doesn't believe I'm autistic.
She's like, "I think you're just really set in your ways."
I'm like, that's what autism is, bitch.
I rolled in here with a checked suitcase full of puzzles.
That's clinical.
But I can't do them at her house anymore
because my nephews are crybaby tattletales.
"Aunt Lara, you're scary to do puzzles with."
Well, I wouldn't be if you didn't fuck everything up.
I'm sorry, you can't just start working on the middle of a puzzle
before you've turned all the pieces over and assembled the border.
Am I out of my goddamn mind?
I thought we lived in a civilization.
You're getting pissed at me because your twat mom raised you wrong.
This whole thing was shot to shit already before I flipped the table.
They came and they visited me,
and they live in the woods in Wisconsin,
so they had never seen, like, stoplights before.
So we had to teach these two little boys
that the orange hand means "don't cross the street."
So we had them at every intersection being like,
"White guy, that means it's safe."
It's like, shut up.
It's true, but you can't say that.
We went to the Natural History Museum and saw the butterflies exhibit.
Butterflies are crazy, dude.
Imagine going into a chrysalis.
Imagine just one day just being like, "I feel like I need to do this.
This just feels right to me."
And then it's just, like, pregnant with itself.
Just like a booger in a cobweb for a while.
I don't know if it thinks it's dead or what it goes through in there.
And then one day you emerge a beautiful butterfly.
Barely even had a body before.
Could scoot like ten feet a day.
Now it can fly.
You get to land on people, watch them think it's a sign.
Just like, "Oh, look, it's my grandmother watching over me."
Nah, bitch, I'm a bug.
Only thing I'm watching over is these flowers I'm about to suck.
No, I love those little kids.
It's gotta be embarrassing to be a parent sometimes, though.
Because all little kids freak out sometimes.
They have tantrums. That's just what they do.
Unless you abuse them, which you shouldn't.
I hate when I come across an adult who's just like,
"My parents hit me, I turned out fine.
No, you didn't. You're an asshole. Everyone hates you.
I mean, if I had a kid, I would probably hit it.
But it's not because I believe in that.
It's just poor impulse control.
They're very noisy.
I feel like we're supposed to like the sound of kids playing,
but no one talks about the fact that the sound of kids playing is shrieking.
They just shriek irrelevant shit over and over.
I'm meditating in my place, outside I can hear,
"You guys, it's over here!"
"It's over here, you guys!"
"You guys!"
Shut the fuck up!
God damn it, dude!
Little kids will do everything in their power to get your attention
and then show you the most underwhelming shit you ever saw
in your whole entire life.
"Look at this. Watch this. Wanna see what I can do?
"Watch me. Are you watching? Check it out. I'm gonna show you something.
Are you ready? Okay, look.
"I know how to do this. Watch."
Don't cheer for that.
That's the problem. That's what we do.
I do it too.
I'm like, "Oh, wow, cool."
Because I've never been able to say to it what I would say if it was my kid,
which is just like,
"Look...
I love you,
so it's okay that you showed that to me
because I'm into your whole thing.
But you don't need to show that to anybody else
because basically everybody can do that pretty much,
so it's not bad, it's just not gonna impress anybody.
Okay, go play.
I have a mom.
She has begun trolling me on Facebook,
which I don't appreciate for a single second.
I post about my shows on social media,
and her friends commented that they wanted to come see me.
My mom replied to their comment and said,
"You're not gonna like it."
I'm like, "Mom, do you mind not actively fucking with my money."
Is that a line we could draw, perhaps?
Like, if you're gonna say shit like that, can you at least do it from a fake profile
so people can't tell that it's my goddamn mom saying how bad I suck?
"Oh, no one knows I'm your mom."
I'm in your profile picture, goddammit!
We have the same last name.
Your profile picture is me with an old lady.
They can tell.
"I don't know how to make a fake profile."
Same as how you make the real one.
Just don't put your real shit in.
I'll do it for you right now.
I'll make you as many as you want.
This ends tonight.
Bring me your Kindle. Where are your glasses?
I believe that she doesn't know how to make herself a fake profile
because she is so bad with technology.
I'm like, this is impossible.
She sends me blank texts.
It won't even let you do that.
I'm like, how? Are you typing out spaces?
What are you doing?
How is this possible?
But she knows her way around Facebook just fine.
That's for sure. Wish she didn't.
"My friend asked me if you have bad teeth
because you always smile with your mouth closed in your pictures."
Oh, did you ask her if she's an old bitch?
Because she is.
My teeth are fine, thank you very much.
I go to the dentist every six months.
That was not always the case.
It used to be if someone told me they went to the dentist every 6 months,
I was like, you think you're better than me? Fuck you!
Every time I would go, I would be like, this is it.
I'm going to start going every six months.
I'm going to start investing in myself.
By the end of the visit, I'd be like, fuck this, fuck you.
I will see you in 3 years.
Last place I went before my dentist,
now they wanted to charge me $500 to fill a cavity.
Kiss my fucking ass!
What are you filling it with, Elvis Presley's cum?
Can't you just melt down a penny or something?
Get that in there and shit.
Use something less precious.
You guys were using tin for the longest time.
Doesn't have to match the other teeth. A back one, please.
I didn't even know I had that tooth
until the dentist pointed it out to me.
He showed me in his little circle mirror.
I was like, I'll be damned, who's this?
Never seen that tooth before in my life.
I'm not going to invest in it.
Like the most I'll give you is $20 to knock it out of my head right now.
I'll never think about it again as long as I live.
I told him to fuck off. I walked out.
That is true. I didn't even pay.
It was a free exam, but I still didn't pay.
I went and got a second opinion from my dentist I have now.
He said I didn't even have a cavity.
How fucked up is that?
And if I had had one, he was only going to charge me $250.
That's Dr. J. That's my goddamn guy.
I see him every 6 months.
I would see him every morning, if you know what I mean.
Dr. J can get it.
He's a tasty treat, dude.
He didn't know who he was dealing with, no sir.
He leaned me back in his chair. I showed him my little teeth.
He was like, "You have great teeth."
I was like, I will fuck you.
Tell that to Gladys, Mom.
My therapist told me to go no contact with my mom,
so I stopped talking to her.
To my therapist, not to my mom.
I'm not going to stop talking to my mom.
My therapist is like, "She doesn't have any boundaries."
She was born in 1955.
We invented boundaries in 2018.
She's not catching up, dude.
Maybe we try and just meet her where she's at.
My mom could kill my boyfriend and I would still visit her in prison.
I would be pissed, you know. Not saying I wouldn't.
I would use my "I feel" statements I've been learning in therapy.
I'd be like, Mom, I felt very angry and sad when you killed my boyfriend.
But I got some cigarettes up my ass with your name on, toots.
She'd be like, "What? Why'd you bring them in your ass?"
"They let us have those here."
"I'm not smoking cigarettes that've been in your fucking ass."
"You out of your mind? They probably smell like shit."
"They're for sure broken."
But yeah, she had surgery. She just beat breast cancer.
They removed the boobs.
Good as new.
They even offered her new boobs.
I was like, okay, Mom, here's where we make our money back.
Now we're cooking with gas.
Let's have a conversation.
I was excited for her.
I wanted to help her pick some out of the catalog.
I was like, let's get you a set of juicy nasties. Here we are.
Now's your time to shine. Let's get you some of the ones with the crack down the middle.
Here we go.
I was excited for her. She didn't even want them.
She was like, no, I'm fine.
But they were included in the surgery.
Insurance was going to pay for them.
I was like, shit, I'll take the tits.
No one else wants them?
Fucking fix my ass up.
All I'm saying is ask the other people at your table if someone else wants your fries
before you tell the waitress not to bring them.
I'll take those tits.
The nurse was like, "It doesn't work that way."
All right, fuck you too, bitch.
And that is the second time I didn't get big boobs from my mom.
I have a friend who's getting a breast reduction because she has back problems.
But I have back problems. I don't even have giant boobs.
I'm like, I'm pretty sure that's just like 80% of adults, dude.
What makes you so sure that's the boobs' fault?
Awful confident in ourselves, aren't we?
I'm like, what if they make them small and your back still hurts?
Something to think about.
Because I got news for you, sweet cheeks.
If you don't like having a bad back and big juicy titties,
you are going to hate having a bad back and a flat chest.
That's some real shit right there. It's a risk.
I would be a bad friend not to say that to her.
And I can't wait till after the surgery.
She's just like, "Damn, dude, my shit is still fucked."
I'm like, yeah, I thought about that.
Can you imagine? She gets it done and then later on she's like,
"Yeah, it turns out I was just wearing the wrong shoes."
And she walks away with ugly shoes, tiny titties.
That's why me personally, if I had huge boobs and a bad back,
I'd be like, well, I guess you're doing surgery on my back.
I lost my boobs in the war on obesity.
I'm down over 50 pounds now.
Thanks. Yeah, I thought I was done. I've been feeling good.
I'm in the weight range my doctor gave me.
But I was working with an elderly comedian recently.
That's relevant, give me a moment.
And he was just like, "Lara, you look incredible. Have you lost more weight?"
I was like, yeah, thank you so much.
He goes, "What do you got, 10 more?"
Uh-huh.
I was like, well, I do now.
No, what I actually did was I burst out laughing
and I said, I can't believe you just fucking said that to me.
And that was when he realized he shouldn't have said it.
Like, he's not a bad guy.
I know him, he was trying to be supportive.
So then he tried to dig himself out.
He was just like, "Oh, I only ask because a long time ago
I used to lift girls and I can't lift them if they're over 120.
So I want you to lose more weight for selfish reasons."
I was like, you gotta stop talking, man.
It's just gotta end right now.
Being liftable by a 76-year-old man is not one of my health goals.
I can't eat jack shit anymore.
I was watching a commercial, it had stuff in it, I was like, oh, I could probably eat that.
It was like chicken, rice, vegetables, they spun it up,
it was dog food.
I bought a case, it's not bad stuff.
Turns out I'm an Alpo gal, who knew?
Try to keep the wet food to the weekends, you know how it is.
Because I have these digestive issues.
I've been having this problem when I fly.
Anyone else, just by applause, do you get gas when you fly?
Oh, okay.
It's so many more people than that.
I know, because I Googled it when we landed,
I barely had to type in the W.
And Google was like, "Why do I get gas when I fly?"
I'm like, yeah.
Word for word, that is what I was gonna type.
Turns out it's an air pressure thing, like how your ears pop, your butt wants to pop too.
But it can't, until you land.
And then I set myself free.
I don't give a fuck. It is medical at that point.
I just deflate my way to baggage claim, truly.
It was like a balloon someone let go of.
I can hardly keep my little legs underneath me.
I'm like, "Shit, carousel 5 already."
And then you use those toilets they got at the airport that flush themselves,
which I think I prefer to flush.
The timing on those gets real aggressive.
It snatched the toilet paper out of my goddamn hand.
Like, could I have a second, please,
before you rip my lips off? Shit.
I fainted of autism on a flight recently.
I got...
I got overstimulated, and it was too much.
And I always freak out when I fly.
I give myself my sky talk, and I was giving it to myself.
I was just like, "You're just a person in a chair.
That's all you are.
You're just sitting. Couldn't fuck this up if you tried.
I know it feels like you're not breathing,
but we know that you are, because it always feels like this,
and you've never died, so we're fine.
This is just a feeling."
And then I started losing consciousness,
and I was like, "Oh, no, I am dying this time."
But by the time I realized what was happening,
I was too weak to push the flight attendant call button.
I kind of just flapped my hand on it,
and I had to ask the lady next to me to help me,
but I didn't want to tell her I was sick
because I didn't want her to think I was going to barf on her.
So I said, "I'm going to die."
And then I said, "Help, I'm dying."
And then I fainted onto her.
And I don't know how long I was out,
but I woke up to the sound of her being like,
"Yeah, she said she was going to die."
I wish I could take something for that anxiety, but I can't.
People are just like, "Xanax is awesome."
I'm like, yeah, it sounds fucking awesome.
I will burn my life to the ground.
I can't do drugs that feel good.
I can't drink.
I bit a guy back in '08.
That was alcohol and drug-related, needless to say.
That was my whoopsie-daisy.
I now know that it was wrong of me to bite that guy.
But at the time, it felt like the right thing to do.
I remember it too.
I wasn't even blacked out. That's what's fucked up.
I remember being at the crossroads and choosing that,
being just like, "I am either going to bite this man not at all,
or very hard."
And I went in. What can I say?
I honestly don't even have a great joke that goes along with that.
I'm just trying to stay ahead of that situation.
Because he took a picture of the bite mark.
He could post that any day.
And if he does, I want people to be like,
"Yeah, she talks about biting that guy all the time."
He told me he was going to show the picture to the police
unless I shared my food stamps with him.
You had some dark patches there.
But it scared me. I didn't know what I would do,
because you really can't talk your way out of a bite mark.
If you looked at my mouth and you looked at his arm with your regular people eyes,
you'd be like, "Yeah, that's your mouth. You bit him."
I figured if he did call the cops, I would just be like,
"Yeah, actually, he pushed his arm into my mouth really hard."
"His arm hurt my mouth."
"I was going to call you guys, but I'm not a bitch."
Haven't bit anybody since then, but no one wants to hear about that, do they?
Bite one guy, it's the talk of the town,
but you never get any credit for the guys you don't bite.
Do you think I haven't wanted to bite a guy since 2008?
Dream on. I want to bite a different guy every day.
I also got arrested when I was drinking and using,
which you're not supposed to do either.
I was so fucked up when that happened that when the lady woke me up
and told me I could leave, I asked if I could stay.
She was like, "What? No, this isn't a hotel."
I was like, then why did I pee the bed?
I still like being around other people who are fucked up, though.
That's hilarious every time.
I was doing shows out of town with my buddy.
We were watching a murder documentary in the hotel,
and the name of the hotel in the documentary was the same as where we were.
And he was high.
I thought he was going to freak out and get paranoid.
No. He goes, "I think they just change it to wherever you are."
I was like, I don't think so, man.
I'm like, you think they're showing a different, specific building
to everybody who's watching this?
I'm like, God, I wish I could be in your world.
I don't watch too much of the murder stuff.
I like to keep it light, keep it comfortable.
I just re-watched Annie. That movie rules, dude.
Who fucks with Annie?
No one's having gas on the plane,
everyone loves Annie?
Interesting crowd of liars.
It's a good movie, though, dude. I watched that movie when I was a little kid.
I was just like, Miss Hannigan is so mean.
I watched that movie as an adult.
Fuck those kids.
Horrible little street urchins.
Miss Hannigan is taking care of all of them by herself.
She walks into the room, they put a rat down the front of her dress,
and then they're like, "Miss Hannigan drinks."
Yeah. Cause of you, you little bitch.
You're ruining her life.
Miss Hannigan was about to have sex with Mr. Bundles, the laundry guy.
A kid popped out of the closet.
That's the villain.
Imagine you are taking care of like 100 little kids all by yourself.
I really, I want you to take a moment, go there in your bodies.
Imagine the exhaustion.
Now imagine you are woken up in the middle of the night by the sound of them
performing a choreographed song and dance
about how much they hate you.
Fuck those kids.
"Miss Hannigan, we're having hot mush again?"
Bitch, you're a homeless child.
That is your situation on this earth.
What are you bringing to the table? Fucking nothing, that's what.
Except a bad attitude.
It's the Great Depression.
She's probably getting a dollar a month to take care of all your asses.
You think she's in the back fixing you crab legs?
Fuck off!
People shit on Miss Hannigan.
And I'll tell you why, right here and right now, tonight.
It's because she was a single woman back in the day,
and she was pretty ugly.
And they did that in The Wizard of Oz too. The Wicked Witch of the West.
Before she got spun up in the twister, she was just an ugly schoolteacher.
She was, in the beginning. She rode her bike up to Aunt Em's farm.
She was like, "Hey, Dorothy, I noticed you and your dog been coming onto my farm.
Your dog's been eating my crops."
That's a perfectly reasonable grievance.
In Dust Bowl-era Kansas, of all times and places,
see these jokes got a little bit of history to them too.
This poor woman probably used all of her water to grow one tomato
and then Toto ate it.
I would have flipped the fuck out.
Some big titty teenager wanders onto my farm,
lets her dog eat my food.
I would have been like, "Hey, asshole,
see what happens if you ever come back on my land.
Here's a hint, I will fucking kill you."
My friend started dating a magician,
so that can't possibly end soon enough.
He does magic the way that like, a guy will bring an acoustic guitar to a party.
Where we're just like, oh, we're watching your performance now, okay.
And my friend doesn't even like magic, dude.
She was high,
and he performed a magic trick for us,
and when it got to the punchline,
or the ta-da part, I don't know what it's called for magic.
When it got to the point of the trick, my friend threw up.
I was just like, "Whoa, is she barfing up her card right now?"
He didn't laugh, I was like, yeah, this guy's gotta go.
I don't like getting relationship advice from my single friends,
because their shit is a shit show.
I won't fuck a guy until we're exclusive.
That's just what I need to do for my personal sanity,
and my friends think that that's insane.
They're just like, "Well, what if you get to really like the guy
and then you find out the sex is bad?"
I'm like, I would rather have that than what you've been doing,
which is liking the sex and then finding out the guy's bad.
My one friend has been crying to me about this man for over a year.
He still doesn't want a relationship.
I'm like, then stop fucking him.
What are we talking about right now?
If I put my hand on a hot stove and it burns me,
and then I keep my hand on that stove for over a year,
that doesn't make the stove an asshole.
That's on me for fucking a stove.
I mean, yeah, you can still get fucked over by someone you've taken the time to get to know,
but me, I like to know who's fucking me over.
Someone you don't know fucks you over, you're like, "What happened?
I thought we were having such a nice time. I thought he liked me."
Someone you know fucks you over, at least you can be like,
"Man, that is so Keith.
Typical, typical, typical. This guy."
I don't like getting advice from my married friends either
because their shit's always the most condescending shit I ever heard in my whole life.
You just have to love yourself
first and then the right person will come into your life.
I've been loving myself this whole time, bitch.
That's why I haven't married any of the men I've dated.
Uh-huh.
I got proposed to once like 15 years ago.
I was still living in Milwaukee. A guy proposed to me.
I said no because I knew that we weren't right together
and I knew I deserved to be happy.
I did think there would be a second proposal at some point in my life,
I got a little bit of egg on my face there, but...
Yeah, my married friend was just like,
"You know, when it's the right person for you,
you won't have that nervous feeling in your stomach."
I'm just like, "Yeah, not if you settle for a fucking dork."
"Kevin makes me feel so safe."
Oh yeah, that's because Kevin's ugly as fuck.
You are safe.
That dude's not going to leave you and he's not going to cheat on you, he can't.
No one else wants to fuck your claymation-looking-ass husband.
You're all proud, he's out here looking like God didn't finish him.
I watched my friend's baby be born.
That was crazy.
It was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in my life.
No. It was nasty as hell.
Why do people say that? They're just like, "He's perfect."
I'm like, "Ugh, looks like he was dipped in a parfait."
But I saw it, because the dad got there late.
He got there when the baby was coming out.
He took one look, turned white as a sheet, goes,
"I can't do this," and left the room.
I was like, what the fuck?
We can leave?
Why have I been standing here traumatizing myself?
When I think about now though, I'm just like,
did she ask me to watch it come out?
I don't think she did.
I'm pretty sure I could have stayed north of the sheet.
She would have been fine with me supporting her from there.
I don't think she was like, "Look at it."
I mean, I get why I did, though.
I'd been there for hours. Conversation was an absolute standstill.
That's where everybody else was looking.
I was like, "All right, fine, I'll watch the show."
When's the next time I'm going to see a baby be born?
Turns out, never, if I have anything to say about it.
My other friend just had a baby,
and she told me she didn't tear.
I was like, oh, I didn't ask.
If we're talking about your pussy right now, all right,
we're not close at all.
Also, you seem proud but like...
how big was your pussy?
Hell of a canal you're working with there.
Damn, dude.
I'm not a gynecologist, but I've seen kids' heads before.
Bigger than most pussies, right?
If anything, I would start lying.
Tell people you did tear.
But she's freaking out now, though, because she found out
that her husband was cheating on her.
I know.
I don't think I would ever catch a guy cheating on me
just because I'm not smart enough.
I'd be like, when is he going to have time to cheat?
He's been working till midnight every night.
But, yeah, she saw this bitch's number kept popping up on his phone,
which, just change the bitch's name.
Put "Aunt" in front of it. That's all you got to do.
Oh, now she's Aunt Stacy. Nobody's fighting about that.
Except I feel like you guys would find a way to fuck that up, too.
You'd be like, "Hey, who the fuck is Aunt Big Titties?"
Thank you so much, everybody. Good night!
Stop it. Stop it.
Thank you.
Thank you so much.