are always attached to huge sticks or hangers that clank and make noise. Give me a normal-size key ring and I promise I’ll alert all the other patrons by yelling, “I have to pish, now.”
I hate the sign in the window that states: “Shirt and shoes required.” Is that really necessary? Does that mean pants are optional? That as long as you have on some kind of footwear and sleeves, it’s okay to have your cooz hanging out or your balls stuck to the chair? I experienced that in a restaurant one day and not only was it disgusting and unattractive and unhygienic, I also got very cold.
And finally… I hate vegans. God gave you incisors, so what’s the problem? Not only are vegans annoying, they look sickly. Right now, fast, name twenty vegans you’d like to bang. They don’t eat meat, they don’t eat poultry, they don’t eat fish, they don’t eat anything with a face.… You know what? They can eat me.
THINGS NOT TO SAY AT A DINNER PARTY
The table looks great; most of the place settings match.
There’s a pubic hair in my soup and it looks like Uncle Jack’s.
Does anyone know the difference between the early signs of chlamydia and syphilis?
This steak is delicious! Ever been to a slaughterhouse? They kill the cow by driving a nail between its eyes.
You’ll never guess who lost a baby and left it in the toilet? No, really, c’mon, try to guess. I’ll give you a hint.…
Are these capers or droppings?
Did anyone ever notice that all Down syndrome kids look alike?
They said it was SIDS, but to perfectly honest, I never trusted the mother.…
How come you never see really old midgets?
Fuck the Jews.
Is it just me, or does foreskin taste funny?
Please, if I start to smell just tell me and I’ll change the bag.
LOCATION. LOCATION. LOCATION …
… Are the three most important things when you’re buying a house… or looking for my G-spot.
I have a love-hate relationship with a lot of cities and countries. As a rule, I love places that pay me to be there and I hate places that don’t.
By the way, when I speak of cities I mean real cities. I don’t go to “cities” where being mayor is a part-time job. Or where people brag that it’s safe to leave their doors open at night. These people obviously don’t have good jewelry. I don’t do towns, villages, burgs, hamlets or grottos. I’m a comedian, not an elf. If Hillary Clinton wants to do a village that’s her business—I just hope for her sake she finds a village where mannish women in pastel pantsuits are all the rage. The only village I love is Greenwich Village in New York City, and that’s only because (a) it’s not actually a village, it’sa neighborhood, and (b) it’s where I started my comedy career playing little clubs like Upstairs at the Downstairs and The Duplex. If it weren’t for those little clubs in Greenwich Village I’d have had to pursue one of my other passions in life and instead of being the beloved star of stage and screen you are reading now, I would have become either a dental hygienist (I’ve always loved the thrill of a putting my hands in a strange man’s mouth) or a fetish model, posing nude for magazines like
Pavement Princess
,
Gutter Gals
, and
What Do You Expect for a Quarter?
I’ve gone around the world a number of times (often in the backseat of a Buick) and, having been everywhere from Bayonne to Berlin, I can say with certainty that Dorothy said it best when she said, “There’s no place like home.” (Meanwhile Auntie Em is thinking “Listen, bitch, we agreed to let you move back in with us after you graduated from college and couldn’t find a job, but that was only supposed to be temporary. Fact is, your uncle Henry and I were going to turn your old bedroom into a sex dungeon and then maybe do a little traveling. After all, it’s not like you’re our real daughter, right?”)
I live in New York City (except for when I live in Los Angeles with Melissa, which I’m willing to do
I hate the sign in the window that states: “Shirt and shoes required.” Is that really necessary? Does that mean pants are optional? That as long as you have on some kind of footwear and sleeves, it’s okay to have your cooz hanging out or your balls stuck to the chair? I experienced that in a restaurant one day and not only was it disgusting and unattractive and unhygienic, I also got very cold.
And finally… I hate vegans. God gave you incisors, so what’s the problem? Not only are vegans annoying, they look sickly. Right now, fast, name twenty vegans you’d like to bang. They don’t eat meat, they don’t eat poultry, they don’t eat fish, they don’t eat anything with a face.… You know what? They can eat me.
THINGS NOT TO SAY AT A DINNER PARTY
The table looks great; most of the place settings match.
There’s a pubic hair in my soup and it looks like Uncle Jack’s.
Does anyone know the difference between the early signs of chlamydia and syphilis?
This steak is delicious! Ever been to a slaughterhouse? They kill the cow by driving a nail between its eyes.
You’ll never guess who lost a baby and left it in the toilet? No, really, c’mon, try to guess. I’ll give you a hint.…
Are these capers or droppings?
Did anyone ever notice that all Down syndrome kids look alike?
They said it was SIDS, but to perfectly honest, I never trusted the mother.…
How come you never see really old midgets?
Fuck the Jews.
Is it just me, or does foreskin taste funny?
Please, if I start to smell just tell me and I’ll change the bag.
LOCATION. LOCATION. LOCATION …
… Are the three most important things when you’re buying a house… or looking for my G-spot.
I have a love-hate relationship with a lot of cities and countries. As a rule, I love places that pay me to be there and I hate places that don’t.
By the way, when I speak of cities I mean real cities. I don’t go to “cities” where being mayor is a part-time job. Or where people brag that it’s safe to leave their doors open at night. These people obviously don’t have good jewelry. I don’t do towns, villages, burgs, hamlets or grottos. I’m a comedian, not an elf. If Hillary Clinton wants to do a village that’s her business—I just hope for her sake she finds a village where mannish women in pastel pantsuits are all the rage. The only village I love is Greenwich Village in New York City, and that’s only because (a) it’s not actually a village, it’sa neighborhood, and (b) it’s where I started my comedy career playing little clubs like Upstairs at the Downstairs and The Duplex. If it weren’t for those little clubs in Greenwich Village I’d have had to pursue one of my other passions in life and instead of being the beloved star of stage and screen you are reading now, I would have become either a dental hygienist (I’ve always loved the thrill of a putting my hands in a strange man’s mouth) or a fetish model, posing nude for magazines like
Pavement Princess
,
Gutter Gals
, and
What Do You Expect for a Quarter?
I’ve gone around the world a number of times (often in the backseat of a Buick) and, having been everywhere from Bayonne to Berlin, I can say with certainty that Dorothy said it best when she said, “There’s no place like home.” (Meanwhile Auntie Em is thinking “Listen, bitch, we agreed to let you move back in with us after you graduated from college and couldn’t find a job, but that was only supposed to be temporary. Fact is, your uncle Henry and I were going to turn your old bedroom into a sex dungeon and then maybe do a little traveling. After all, it’s not like you’re our real daughter, right?”)
I live in New York City (except for when I live in Los Angeles with Melissa, which I’m willing to do
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