Monday Morning Podcast - Thursday Afternoon Monday Morning Podcast 3-24-16
Episode Date: March 24, 2016Bill rambles about boozing, cars and bbq....
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Hey, what's going on? It's Bill Burr and it's time for the Thursday afternoon, just
before Friday, Monday morning podcast, and I'm just checking, just checking it on you.
You fucking whore. What's going on? How are you?
This is sound, sound fucked up here. You know what it is? You guys probably wonder
why, Bill, why don't you, when you get the fucking sound right, why don't you just set
it, set it and forget it? Remember that shit? You turn on an oven, just forget about it,
just fucking walk away from it. I bought one of those things. The thing was the shit.
I don't know, I can't remember whatever happened to it. Stick a whole fucking chicken in there,
you know, and I would set it, but I would not forget it. I would always remember that
I had a chicken cooking because I was living in New York and you know, I was paying nine
grand a month for like fucking 30 square feet. So, you know, I had my pillow propped up on
the other side of it. And you know, it's impossible not to hear that bell go off considering my
head was against it, you know, half of my head would be sweaty and red. And I'd sit
down and I'd eat a whole chicken. Greasy as shit. I don't understand why fucking chickens
are so goddamn greasy. You know, when you look at them, they don't look greasy. And
they're greasy as shit. And then you know, it's the worst is your fucking show up and
the amount of people that don't know how to cook chicken and it's just fucking dry ass
chicken. Do you know way back in the day back in the day when I was young and I had more
hair. I used to do what was called the uptown shows, you know, do the uptown show uptown,
you know, in my business is means the black shows, the shows where the crowd is African
American. And everyone's in there's like one white guy on the show, one token white guy.
So I used to be the token white guy on those things. And I remember all the fucking time
I used to do these things. And I hope he hears this. I used to work for talent. He used to
do all those fucking rooms. And they used to always give me shit, say white people don't
know how to have a cookout or barbecue, whatever the fucking thing is. And I'll never forget
he invited me. I can't man was him a Gerald Kelly, they invited me up. Way the fuck up
in the Bronx. I don't know where the hell I was. It was this fucking, like basketball
slash do stand up during the day in this basketball park. So I have fucking I'll go up
there and do it. So I went up there, you know, and they're fucking cooking up and all that
shit. And I got to tell you, I will never forget how fucking disappointed I was when
I ate the chicken. It was so fucking dry. Tell you everybody talks shit. I fucking do
this. I'll fucking go fucking do it. I got you know, I should have near here for this
because that's another one too. They always tell me how good soul food is. I've been to
one good soul food place. It's the same thing with like barbecue to everybody raving about
fucking barbecue 90% of those things are absolute shitholes. You walk in there, you see
like 50 health code violations, this fucking flies and stuff. And then they just they try
to disguise all their fuck ups with like fucking, you know, 10 pounds of barbecue sauce. I
mean, you put barbecue sauce on a tree branch, it's going to fucking taste good to some level.
Right. I found that all, you know, trying to you know, some you want the reality is I
don't know shit about barbecue. So it's just like, you know, if you don't know shit about
stand up, you're going to watch a bunch of hacks before you get to a good one. So maybe
that's what it is. I have no idea. I have no idea the one place soul food place that I went
that actually I went to Amy Ruth's a long time ago. And I liked that I thought that that was
quality. All right, so I know it has to be out there. I mean, God knows if you want to get a
good fucking corned beef sandwich, I know that you go down to Tom Bergens here in fucking LA,
right? I know where to go for that shit. So somebody help me out in LA, where's where's a
good spot for all of that type of stuff? Because I'm I can't say it because it'll be sac
religious. But I've gotten the most famous fucking I guess soul food place out here. There's two
locations and I went to both of them and the food absolutely without a doubt, no questions,
landslide fucking sucked. And I was like, what is there a God? Why is there a fucking line
around the block for this shit? It's terrible. There has to be this has to be the spot that
only guys like me know about, right? And then everybody else is going to the real place.
That was a fucking left turn. I think the only good barbecue I think I ever really enjoyed was
when I was in Alabama. And there was a place called saws. Smartass Wilson, it stood for. And
that shit was fucking delicious. You go in the place was clean. You know, they always have to
have it be a little bit funky. It kind of looks like do you guys build hot rods here or you you
making a fucking, you know, brisket? You know, fucking pisses me off. Those whenever you watch the
food network, and you watch those professionals doing it, I'm always screaming at the TV, where
do you where the fuck is your restaurant? I don't want to sit here and watch you cooking all this
shit that I can't fucking eat. I mean, it's works of art. You know, people make barbecue with some
fat motherfuckers, though, you got to admit that, right? Just big fuck, they look like they drive
trucks. Anyways, this is just making me hungry. Speaking of which, I've been eating like shit.
You know, I know it's going to fucking tell you something. I don't know what the hell I was
talking about. I started talking about fucking dry chicken. That gives a fuck, right? Does it
really matter? I'm just checking in on you. This really isn't even a podcast. Anyways, what did I
want to talk about? Oh, yeah, so we'll give you the update on my. Yeah, fuck that. I'll do that
later. I I fucking drank so much the other night, right? I had some friends of mine, they were at
this bar, and they text me going, Hey, man, we're out here drinking, right? And I didn't want to
drink. Just really surprised. I mean, I always want to drink, but I knew I shouldn't. Something in
my head. And my big, stupid Charlie Brown head said, Don't go to the bar, right? So I just, you
know, they're like, Yeah, we've been day drinking. We're already here. Yada, yada, yada. I'm just
like, Okay, blah, blah, blah, blah, whatever, right? I'm not going to. You know, I got a set
tonight. They're like, Yeah, we're right up the street. Hit us up after. I was just like, Okay. And
I was just hoping they were going to be totally hammered and forget. And I went down to the
comedy store. I've been doing sets all week, because I got those huge shows this weekend. And
I went up, I had a fucking great set, got all this new shit, really excited about it, you know,
because I did just do a gig in downtown LA. And one of my gigs is out in Riverside, the other one's
in Orange County. My agent's telling me this is a completely different market is a completely
different family. And I'm just worried that somebody from the show New Year's is going to show up. So
I got to make sure I got a new 1520. So they don't be like, Oh, it's all the same shit, right? Like,
I'm supposed to write a brand new act in 90 fucking days. It's not even 90 days. You know? So
anyways, I'm working on that shit. And the second I get off stage, I have a text. Hey, man, you
off, you off offstage yet? We're right down the street. So like a fucking asshole. Don't listen to
my gut. I go down there, right? And I show up and it's everybody that I like to drink with and I'm
like, Ah, fuck, and I'm driving, right? So I go, I'm gonna have one whiskey, I'm gonna nurse it, and
that's going to be it. Okay, and I sipped it and it tasted fucking delicious. And I literally looked
at another comic, I was there, I go, Why does it taste so good? And he just laughed, he goes, It
tastes better every year. And that's kind of the last coherent, like, part of the night that I
remember. I sucked that one down. And then the waitress came by and she goes, Yeah, yeah, yeah,
everybody else. And I was she didn't say, you know, she was actually, you know, completely probably
did better in school than I did. And I'm making fun of her because I'm set with the answer that I
gave her. I said, Yes, as my brain's going, Don't do this, Bill, don't do this. The second you get
the second one. Now you have to fucking take a taxi home. And you got to leave your car here. Don't
do that. Just fucking relax. You know, you're really just here for the social thing, just have a
water and talk to the fellas, right? So that's what I'm thinking. And my brain just goes, Yes, my
mouth goes, I would like another drink. And then that was it. And then I just looked at everybody
go, Well, I'm not driving now. And they go, Yeah, yeah, you're not driving. You're not driving. And
then that was it. And I don't know what the fuck happened. And somebody told a fucking story about
this drink called a John Riley. I kept thinking it was like the actor, John C. Riley. So I kept
picturing his, his face as the guy was telling the story. And I'm going like, John C. Riley's got
his already has a drink named after him. That's, that's like the like the bar version of winning
like the Mark Twain award, right? I'm like good for John. And it wasn't until you got like halfway
through the story, I realized he was just talking about a guy John Riley. And he did fucking did
something he fought one of those one of those wars that they never make a movie about the Spanish
American war, they never make a fucking movie about that. And the Spanish American war wasn't
that the one we fought in the fucking Philippines? I always thought that that one was like with Sam
Houston and Dave Bowie, David Bowie, no, Daniel Boone, whatever the fuck his name is, right? They
surrounded the Alamo. Let's see this here, Spanish American war. What do you put home game away game?
How do I look this up server not found the fuck you talking about? Do it again. You motherfucker,
don't don't do this to me. All right, this is this is how I fix it. I shut it off, shut off
Wi-Fi, turn Wi-Fi back on. That's like defibrillating. You're fucking, I say that word, right? Come
on. I feel like Pacino and he come on, give me something. All right, here we go. Spanish American
war. I think this was in the Spanish American war. Wikipedia God knows they're always right.
Spanish American war was a conflict between Spain and the United States. The result of the US
intervention in Cuba. We've always been doing that, huh? We're trying to make them free also.
All right, location Cuba, Puerto Rico, the Philippines and Guam. Why don't they ever make a
movie about that one? I'm sure they did. But why don't they make a one that's fucking known enough
that I've seen it? Hang on a second. I know I've ever even read about this. It was a conflict in
1898 between Spain and the United States, the results of US intervention and the Cuban war of
independence. In other words, you know, we always have a dog. We always have a dog in the fight.
You know what I mean? If we go to the fucking casino and there's that guy would just fucking
bet every game. That's the United States. We always, we always got some action going, you know,
walking around with their fucking Hawaiian shirt and a big cigar flip flops were a mess. US attacks
on Spain's Pacific Coast Pacific positions led to the involvement in the Philippine Revolution and
ultimately to ultimately to the Philippine American War. All right, let's click on that.
Philippine American War. It fucking lasted for almost two over two years, 1899. Three years, one
month. Oh, I'm sorry. Yeah, that's three years. Jesus, Bill, lay off the fucking sauce, huh?
All right, Filipino civilians dead, 200 to 250,000 dead, mostly from disease.
We lost 4,000 to 6,000. They lost 12,000 to 20,000. We crushed another one, huh? Jesus Christ. We
were on a tear back. That was that's when we were really on a fucking tear. Conflict arose when the
first Philippine Republic objected to the terms of the Treaty of Paris under which the United States
took possession of the Philippines from Spain, ending the Spanish American War. Yeah, they're
like, dude, we want to be our own people, if you don't mind. And then we came over there,
landed the home, landed the brave, free of the home, whatever the fuck our little tag line is.
All right, and they probably scared up some guy named fucking Ulysses,
you know, scaring the shit out of, they're going to come over here, they're going to get you,
they're going to get you fucking four wheeler. Anyways, once again, I don't even know how the
fuck I got to that goddamn thing. Oh yeah, so the drink, it's called the John Riley. All it is,
it's a, it's a fucking margarita and you take a shot of Jameson and you dump it in there and it
had something to do with the fact that there was a bunch of Irish people fighting on this side and
they decided, you know what, you guys are fucking using us, we're going to go fight on the side where
the Latinos are. So that's the Jameson going over to the other fucking side. Right. So now I got
whiskey, the real tail of the tape here is now I got what the fuck's in a margarita.
Okay, I never drink, is that, is that vodka or is it tequila? I think it's tequila. Right.
And I fucking dumped that in there. So now, now I'm on my third fucking whiskey. I had already
ordered another Johnny black because it was a really long fucking story. And now I'm three of
those in, I had a Jameson and then I had a fucking margarita and I believe I had one more after
that grant. I did all of this, I swear to God, it felt like 90 minutes, but I think it was about
two and a half hours. And then I did the Irish goodbye, which is I just hit me as like, I got
to get the fuck out of here and I didn't say goodbye to anybody and I just walked out.
I called my old friends LA taxi. That's who I always call I do not Uber. I don't do Uber because
I just, you know, you do Uber, it's going to be some young kid, he's in the fucking business,
and he's going to hand you a fucking script or some shit, you know, and eventually just say
something really creepy like, Oh, you live here. You know, but yeah, you get in the cab, they're
just like, Hello, yes, hello, my friend, they don't give a fuck, they don't they have no fucking,
you know, they don't give a shit, they're not trying to fucking do anything, right. So I call
LA taxi, like, okay, you know, LA taxi, I'm just like, and I'm just like, yeah, I'm at the ramada.
And then there was just dead silence that in my fucking head, it made, they made me seem,
made me think that they knew where the fuck I was at. I wasn't at the ramada, I'm not going to say
where the fuck I was at, right. So then I was just standing there swaying in the breeze. And then
one of my buddies came down and his Uber pulled up and he just saw me and he saw the state I was
in and he just let me get in it. So I got in the fucking thing. And like most streets in LA,
they're the longest fucking streets ever. You know what I mean? Like La Ciena starts at the
Hollywood Hills, it will just go all the way down to like the Palace Verde's peninsula. Maybe that
one doesn't but some of them do they like they're like fucking 20 mile long streets. So you have
the north side and the south side, this guy started going in the wrong fucking direction.
Unfortunately, I wasn't so drunk. He would have dropped me off at the opposite end of the fucking
you know, fucking city or whatever. And so I go to bed. I don't even remember going to bed.
And then I wake up the next day, I woke up like eight in the morning with my dog fucking licking
my face. And I swear to God, at eight in the morning, I was still legally drunk,
legally drunk. And I was just like, Oh my God, so I got up, I walked the dog around the block.
I sat down, and I just fucking, it took me till about 1030 to get my shit together. And then I just
walked all the way back to the bar, the hotel area to get my fucking car.
Just a complete waste of a fucking day. By the time I got home, it was like one in the afternoon,
I'm just muttering to myself the entire time, go look at this bill, would you look at this?
Look, how many fucking times you got to learn this lesson? And I would love to tell you that this
is the last time I'm going to do something like that. It's the last time for a while.
I was a bad one. I was a bad one. But you know, what was good was I sold off some of this shit
from my garage. And I got to tell you, it felt good, made me want to get rid of a bunch of more
of my shit. I just got a ton of shit. I don't know what I'm fucking and you know what I'm telling
me when I say shit, it's fucking shit. A bunch of baseball hats and fucking all these books and
shit and just just stuff. Got all this fucking shit. And I'm sick of it. It's all over the fucking
place. I don't use most of it. So I'm, you know what, I'm just gonna I'm going to get rid of a
bunch of shit. I think I'm going to start to do is every couple of days, I'm going to either give
something away or sell something on eBay. And I literally want to get down to basically bare bones.
What the fuck do I use? You know, I was thinking about that one on my long fucking walk of shame
back to my fucking car. I saw this giant, we know those Mayflower moving trucks, just as giant,
the biggest one you could possibly get, or they even have like in between the front and the back
wheels, they drop the back end, the trailer down so they can even have shit down in there.
And I was just thinking like, I never want to need one of those ever. You got to be that guy
that can fuck it with the next size up from the U-Haul van. That's what the fuck you need, right?
I want to be late at me. So
oh geez, I got a ton of shit to tell you guys. So I also I also went I looked at cars before my
fucking my big fucking booze fest. And I thought I finally found my car. And I swear to God,
I love the picture of it. I went I looked at the 2016 Cadillac CTSV. Oh, wait, no, the top of the
line one, whatever the one it the one it basically it goes fucking. It goes 200 miles an hour and
it's a four door sedan. Right. And all I'm thinking is that I'm just like, All right, this is the
fucking this is the one. It's exactly what the fuck I want. I can't explain it. I love the way it
looks like in the picture. And then I went to go see it. And it just looked like something that you'd
buy if you were in like, if you were in your 20s, you could somehow afford it. Just with all the
fins and the tail fin, of course, I'm just like, I can't get in my driveway because the front end
is too fucking low. There's a little hump to get in my driveway. And then they go in like,
Well, you could back it in. And I don't know, man, I just couldn't get past and then they were like,
Yeah, Justin Bieber bought one of these. And I'm like, Exactly, he should buy one of these.
You can walk around shirtless putting one eyebrow up and doing the kissing your two fingers and the
piece thing. That's the fucking car for you. I can't as an almost 50 year old fucking man walking
that thing. I got to tell you, I love the inside of it. And it went like nine zillion miles an hour.
But I got to admit, I fucking I realized while I was test driving the car that I am an old man,
and I don't like going fast, I just like cruising. So I looked at the other Cadillacs,
like the $54,000 fucking old man one was $54,000. And I cannot stress enough,
what an absolute piece of fucking shit it was, I could have put my foot through the
fucking door. I literally left just like depressed. I was just like, you know what, fuck this.
Fuck all of these fucking things. I'm just going to keep driving my fucking piece of
shit Prius, right? And it really is a piece of shit at this point. Now the engine is fucking great.
But like, I've had all the dense take it out and everything, but it's sat in the sun for fucking
eight years. It's been hit too many, it's punch drunk. My car is fucking punch drunk. So last
night I'm at the comedy store. Oh, by the way, the Lincoln new Lincoln Continental is coming out
in August 2017. And it looks pretty fucking badass. And it's just like, you know, I was talking to a
comic last night, and I was joking about how old I am that I like comfort over speed at this point.
And he goes, Oh, yeah, he goes, you know, you're out here in LA because what the fuck are you
going to, where are you going to go? The fuck are you going to go? You can't go anywhere. You
want comfort, you're going to be stuck in traffic, just drive around in a living room. And it just
totally made sense. It's like, yeah, that's what the fuck I want to do. Then of course I drive down
to the club that night, right? And all of a sudden I swear to God, I don't know if every
these are a bunch of tourists and they all rent rented the cars. There was a fucking guy in a
in a white Corvette, like 2016 Corvette, a guy in a fucking 2016 brand new fucking Ferrari,
spider, whatever the fucking thing is. And then somebody else with this, you know, one of those
BMW, the M ones M three M five or something. And they're all zigzagging out of stop and go traffic,
revving the engines and all that shit. The exact thing that my buddy was saying, and I was going,
look, look how I was thinking that I be thinking, look how dumb that is. And all I was thinking
was look how fucking great those cars look. But of course, everybody in them was 20 something.
And, you know, the Yolo guys, the Yolo douches, right? I mean, I just have to fucking old, right?
So anyway, so I went down to the store last night, car restore, and I fucking I did a set
once again. And it wasn't really even funny last night. I mean, I did a decent enough job. I've
been doing it long enough where I can fake my way through my job. But I just kept having
brain farts and all that because I was still fucking hung over, right? So when I'm hung over,
and I'm kind of in a grouchy mood, my shit goes from fucking silly to like, dude, is this like
a meeting? This guy sounds like an insane person. And I got out of the club. And I was walking in
my car. And this guy comes up, he goes, excuse me, Mr. Burr, Mr. Burr, another reason why I shouldn't
buy a fucking cool sport car. When somebody pushing 30 calls you Mr. It's time to get yourself a
Buick Riviera, right? But you know what I mean? Yeah, you can't fight it. You can't fucking fight
it. I am in my sport coat, luxury car, you know, fucking years, gonna go fucking, I'm gonna go
online and buy an old Cutlass or something like that. Old Cutlass is actually a cool car. What am
I talking about? Whatever the fucking Delta 88 or some shit. So he comes up and he's with this
girlfriend. And he goes, yeah, I just want to say, you know, you know, I really enjoyed the show,
big fan, I go, yeah, thanks, whatever. And there's girlfriend just standing there. She goes, yeah,
she goes, I'm not a big, she goes, yeah, I don't like you. Right? Because I was trashing the ladies,
right? She goes, I don't like you. And I go, yeah, okay, I just went, all right. And then she goes,
no, I like you. And she goes, I like you, but I'm like, here we go. Here we go. It's just like,
will you just get on with fucking trashing me? You know, that fucking female manipulation thing.
She said, I don't like you, because she was expecting that I gave a fuck to be like, oh,
why don't you like me? And then she could tell me what part of my act she didn't like. And guess
what part it was, only the shit about me, trash women, all the other stuff was perfectly fucking
fine. I'm talking about drunk driving and going to McDonald's, right? She didn't have a fucking
problem with that. All the hypothetically, like, innocent people during that joke that I could
have fucking gotten trouble, you know, could have run over, right? She didn't give a fuck about that.
So she literally, she goes, I don't like you. And I said, cool. She goes, no, I like you. And
then like a fucking rookie, I stopped. She goes, but you shouldn't be trash women. I was just like,
ah, I just said, I don't give a shit. I don't give a fuck. After the show heckling is my number one
pet peeve, I stood on stage for 20 fucking minutes, right in your crosshairs. You know,
yell out something then. You don't say shit, you just fucking sit there. And then after the show,
you come up to me in the parking lot, and you ignore the 30 topics I went, I talked about,
those, those were all fine. And you just talk about the one that pertains to you.
So I just said, you know, I don't give a shit, right? So I get in my fucking car and she,
but at this point, she was yelling at me. And this is hilarious. She goes, oh my God,
I forget. She was like, nah, nah, nah, nah. And I wasn't listening. And she goes, and you drive a
fucking Prius. She started yelling at me about my car. Oh, it's fucking hilarious.
Fucking hilarious. She, when she yelled fucking Prius, she had turned around and because she
realized I wasn't going to listen to her bitch moaning and complaining about my jokes. She had
already turned away and she goes a fucking, she threw her head back. She goes out fucking Prius.
And what she, what she did there, she made me laugh harder than I probably made the whole
crowd laugh. My entire set in that moment. So thank you to that woman. And you know,
other than that, you know, I don't know what to tell you next time, heckle me on stage. And I'll
listen to what you have to say. There was a fucking woman heckling me in the crowd. Oh, I'll tell you
had a rough one, you know? Yeah, I don't know what the fuck to tell you. All right. Before I,
and before I start doing some of these reads here, what the fuck is it? Yeah,
five dog from tribe called quest, passed away, man. I was one of a casual fan of that. You
know, I'm just too fucking white. I missed it. I totally missed the boat. You know, I saw
Michael Rappaport's documentary on him and it all just made me feel like, how the fuck did I
miss this shit? Oh, that's right. Because I was listening to warrant. I got it, man, that fuck it.
But even though I didn't listen to the band as much as I should have, that really was fucking
depressing. Just because I obviously had friends die at that fucking age from that shit,
complications, some diabetes and all that. So I don't know. That's just I get an old sucks.
Just fucking blows 45 years old. How the fuck do you come to terms with that? You know,
why did I bring it up? I knew it was going to be depressing. All right, let's read some
advertising. All right, score big. You're paying too much for tickets between all the markups and
last minute convenience charges. Oh, by the way, you know, I asked this before, how the fuck is
there a way that I can sell tickets to my show just off my website and only fans will get them?
Like what stops these people who go in and somehow because they got the money will go out and buy
like 500 fucking tickets and then jack the price up and then everybody gives me shit on the internet
going like, dude, you're funny. You're not this funny. And then they show how much the tickets
are for the amount of times I call my agent going, dude, what the fuck are we doing here?
And he's like, that's not us. That's those constant buy a thousand tickets and then rape
everybody. If anybody knows a way, you know, it's hilarious. I think this advertising might be the
way I have no idea between all the markups. Ah, you know what these guys are doing? These guys are
going to undercut stub hub. This is actually probably a good thing here. All right, I'm not
saying these guys aren't dirtbags too, but you know what, you can't just have one dirtbag.
You know, if you get two dirtbags, they start fucking going at each other and then you slide
under the radar, right? Anyway, she paying too much for tickets between all the markups and
last minute convenience charges, even print at home fees, question mark, exclamation point,
you can end up paying court side prices for nosebleed seats. Score big.com is here to change
that. Well, well, well, let's see. Let's see. You guys, you guys check this thing out. Let me
know if this is legit. Did you know that 40% of all live event tickets go unsold? And did you
know that there's a place to get these seats at huge savings? It's called score big.com.
In other words, you bought up 40% of the tickets. What do you mean they go unsold? No, they don't.
No, they don't. This is all bullshit. 40% go unsold. Yeah. And then you know what to do.
They probably would fucking cancel the show. The act's not making the venue any money.
All right. You know what? I'll, I'll, I'll, I'll suspend disbelief here, you know, considering
Batman versus Superman is going to be coming out this week. And you got to suspend all that
disbelief that a guy from another fucking planet that can fly and bullets bound off his,
bounce off his chest is going to have a fucking fight against a regular human being who has a
fucking utility belt, right? Bullets bounce off his chest. What is Batman going to, what does he
have in his little fucking tool belt there that can fuck with that guy? If they really made this
movie as real as possible, Batman versus Superman, it's going to go down like one of those old school
Mike Tyson pay per views. Remember that the fight would be over before the pizza showed up.
But you know, somehow they'll, they'll fucking, I don't know what they'll do. They'll keep it going.
I love how they're out of victims. They're out at like villains and now they have to fight each
other. You know what I mean? Like, what does that say about superheroes? You know what I mean? I
think they're just, they're just into fighting. They don't give a fuck whether somebody's good
or bad. They just, they just need, they need to fight somebody. And then when they stop all the
crime, and you think they're going to relax and get themselves the new 2017 Lincoln continental,
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a wonderful weekend, you cunts. And I'll talk to you on Monday.
me so dear. I'd be happy any place on here.
one way ticket take me anywhere.
Northbound Southbound, I don't even care.
I know the grass is greener there.
And that is it. Bill, bit of a dilemma here for you. I'm an 18-year-old male who's about to graduate from high school.
Congratulations.
Over the past few years, I've been told I'm a really good dancer.
Not ballet or artsy stuff, but just good dance floor dancing.
Oh my god, I'm going to take over the dance floor. Hey, Angie, watch me.
You're John Travolta. This is great. Do you go out to the Staten Island bridge and do headstands with your buddy Bobby?
You know, if he didn't have an afro, he never would have fell off that bridge.
If you had it high and tight, like all these Armenians out here,
every Armenian looks like they know MMA.
Most of the last time you saw an Armenian dude in his 20s or 30s,
and he did not look like he could put you in an arm bar within two seconds if you wanted to.
If I was Dana White,
and I was running the UFC at one point, at this point, they're up to like what? Like
UFC 2006, they've run out of adjectives.
This time it's really, really personal, right? Not saying I'm not a fan, a huge fucking fan.
I'm just saying, you know,
the way they have those things like every other week, there's only so many like, you know, redemption.
I mean, you're running out of words.
I'm such a fucking idiot. This is what I would do if I was Dana White. At some point,
I would have, you know what, this is what I would branch off. Remember when they had those tough man competitions
and they would have just people coming in, throwing haymakers,
which is some of the best boxing ever is when you watch people who just aren't trained whatsoever,
and they just start, you know, because somebody's going to connect, right?
I think that they should have one week, they should have the Armenians versus the Russians
tough man competition, because I really think that that needs, it needs to be decided
who is the tougher of the two.
Because when it comes to white people,
that's who I got my money on.
All right, those are the crypts and the bloods of white people, is the Armenians and the Russians.
All of them, they just have that vibe. There's something you just like, yeah, I'm not fucking with that guy.
Just really, I'm really not doing it. Anyways,
not a ballet or artsy stuff, but just ballroom dance in a fucking dance and over here.
I kind of think dancing is gay from an outside point of view.
It isn't, it really isn't. That's just how white people look at it.
It's considered gay because it involves like letting yourself go and actually admitting that you have emotions as a man, as a white male.
Yeah, it's, yeah, it is, it's considered gay.
As is crying, as is showing any sort of emotion, as is not dying for no good goddamn reason before you're 56.
Or not dying, I should say. If you live to be 60, I believe amongst white men,
that's also considered gay because that means at some point you cried something out of your chest and you didn't have a heart attack.
Anyways, he says, I think dancing is gay from an outside point of view,
but I'll be the first one to admit that I'm actually a pretty good dancer.
If I didn't think so, I wouldn't be out there doing it. Yeah, but dude, you got to be getting some.
I'll fucking women love a guy who can dance.
Dude, if you can dance and you're wearing like a silk scarf, it's fucking over. It's going to be rain and pussy.
As far as my outside view, my freckled view from over in the bar, trying to stand
out from underneath those hot lights so I don't get burned.
You know, redheads, we're the closest thing to vampires.
You know,
we have, we have none of the powers of vampires, but the sun affects us the same way.
A friend of mine who is a female dancer
keeps telling me I could make money doing it on commercials or music videos,
parentheses, clothes on, or you could go to fucking Broadway and be like one of the five
straight men who dances on Broadway and just tag every fucking lonely chick out there.
Who's all stretched out? Just make sure you keep their shoes on. Dancers feet are always fucked up.
Here's where it gets complicated. I plan on becoming a policeman.
Oh, dude, this is, this is a no-brainer. You need to dance at bachelorette parties dressed as a cop.
All you need, dude, is that a fake uniform and a boombox and you're on your way to making money.
Dude, you should fucking do that in a second. And then you write a book about it.
I was a gyrating cop for bachelorette parties and you write a tell-all book about how many fucking
broads you bought ready to get married, get married, suck your dick. You really need help on this one?
I mean, I'm going to read the rest of it, but I think I've already come with the solution.
Anyways, how is anyone supposed to take me seriously on the force if there's a video
going with me pop and locking next to little Wayne? At the same time, oh, dude, you should
fucking pull people over. You should pull people over and fucking moonwalk up to their car and
just freak them out. Even if they were reaching for a gun, they'd be laughing too hard and they
wouldn't shoot you. Then you could rest them and then you move up, like seeing, you know,
you're a commissioner, right? Nothing. Anyways, at the same time, I'm getting laid a lot because
of it. Of course you are. I'm a seven on a scale of 10. I like this guy. He's honest. And I'm,
uh, and like having a jump shot, it's put me up to an eight, five. I'm banging 10s. I've always
wanted to be a cop at the parks here, seen better if I was able to make money doing it. Oh, and the
dancing thing. I wouldn't just be getting hummers for letting gross moms off on speeding tickets.
I could be banging JLo. She's into dancers, right? Thanks. Yeah, dude. Apps of fucking Lutely.
Dude, you're basically saying, what should I do here? Should I bang JLo's be down at the club and
make all this fucking money? Or should I take a job where I'm going to get shot at and not
be appreciated? You know, I'll tell you, every cop out there would dance if they could as opposed
to being a cop. I don't care if they're like seven generations in. Dude, this is what I think of
as far as like dancing. I think if I, if I like compare it to being a comedian, the open mics
would be getting a piece of cardboard and being on a subway platform, making money that way. And then
when you move up to hosting a show, that would be your dresses, a cop, and you fucking dance at
bachelorette parties. That's what you do on the side. That's like your fucking day job, that bullshit.
And then during the day, I yeah, I would try out for those fuck. I don't, do they make music videos
anymore? Or fucking? I don't know. Believe it or not, I don't know how to climb the ladder as a dancer.
But dude, apps are fucking lutely. If you can make money doing that shit. And then what the great
thing is, is once you get to a certain level to make more money, you know, once you got some
credibility, you can always have the fallback where you can teach your class. You can be like, I
dance for nine years and chitty, chitty bang bang and fucking banged every fucking broad on there.
And then if you'd like to not have fucked the women in your cast while still not losing your job,
come on down to Frankie's fucking dance studio, whatever, just you'll figure it out as you go in
there. And yeah, absolutely. Absolutely. I would definitely do it. You want to do it. You wouldn't
take in the time to write in. So your big fear should be whatever everybody's big fear is like,
what if I fucking go after this dream and I'm 30 and I'm sleeping on a fucking futon and it hasn't
happened yet? Well, I got to tell you something, sir, I've been there. I was there at fucking 34.
I was still sleeping on a futon in a fucking studio apartment that they called the one bedroom
because they slammed a fucking wall in there and put a door on it. And then one day I was trying to
bang the girl upstairs who had the fucking apartment right above me. And it was the exact same
unit and hers was a studio, but she had been there longer. So they never slammed a wall in there.
And I realized, Hey, wait a minute, I'm getting fucked. You know, I should go down there and try
to get some money taken off this. I should go down to the the fucking me over rental board,
but I didn't. I said, fuck it. Just keep writing jokes, right? So whatever. Oh, you got to do,
you just got to commit to this shit. And and then realize that, you know, sleeping on a futon when
you're 30 is not the worst thing. It isn't, you don't see, you know, it's worse than sleeping
on a futon at 30 sleeping in a king bed next to a fucking woman you're not really in love with,
but for some reason married. And you got a couple of kids and you got a job that you fucking hate.
Okay, you'll be laying there fantasizing about fucking sleeping on a on a on a on a futon.
There there's no risk when you go after a dream. It's all fucking reward. It's all going to lead
to something good. It always does. There's a tremendous amount of risk to playing it safe.
And that leads to unbelievable levels of regret, which is something else I've also experienced
because I'm an old motherfucker.
I'm surprised we're getting a divorce. All right, here's a new story. All right. Hey, Bill,
I know you have, you aren't a therapist, but I think I just want to talk to anyone at this point.
So here goes. I've been married for just under four years to my wife who I dated for four years
prior to marriage. I love being married. And I've said that to anyone that asks since day one,
we own a nice house together. We have three dogs pit bulls to good man and both make a
decent living. I share everything in my life with my wife. When something makes me happy,
she knows when I'm upset about something I tell her throughout the course of our relationship
about once a year, she would suddenly without warning say she she was unhappy and has been for
months. Oh God, here we go. She says she has discussions with her mom who loves me and is
the sweetest woman alive and close friends about the things that make her unhappy. But I never hear
a word about it until it boils over and she floors me with how unhappy she is. Well, that's not fair.
All right, we tried to work it out though. Make changes. She would act like it was okay
while it bottling it up again. Once the lid goes on the bottle, there's no opening it again.
Each and every time she calls the unhappiness state of the union meeting into session,
I've always been completely honest and saying that I'm very happy with her. I love our jokes and
honestly enjoy spending time and blah, blah, but Jesus Christ, dude, get to the fucking point.
All right, last Wednesday, here we go. We had a good night together. We went out for dinner
and ice cream and laughed at about blah, blah, blah, blah. So I thought I'd come home
the following night in general, great mood and she told me she had talked to her mom and a friend
and that they recommend that she talk to me. I was confused.
Ah, more shit about not being unhappy.
Anyways, I wanted anything to make her happy, but she told me she didn't think
there was anything. It was very emotional as she finally mustered up the courage to say
that we might need to get separated. I was floored and not in an ominous whole husband that
sits around drinks beer and watches football with his buddy way. I love my wife. We have free,
okay, dude. Okay, okay, okay, okay. So the following day after much reluctance,
I get her to agree to try marriage counseling so we can work out our happiness. Dude,
I'm not giving you shit that this is you're pouring your heart out because this shit just
happened. I understand, but for the sake of the listeners, I got to fly through this.
I get to agree with her. I get to, I get it. Okay. So the following day,
it's like Lord of the Rings here. After much reluctance, I get her to agree to try marriage
counseling so we can work out her unhappiness. I was willing to do anything at this point. I
immediately scheduled an appointment with the counselor and I was looking forward to having
someone neutral for us to talk to. Later that night, we were laying in bed and I asked her if
there was someone else in her life. She said, no, yeah, dude. Oh, Jesus. Oh, Jesus. Oh, Jesus.
Here we go. We just went over the waterfall, folks. Or were we, you know what is not in this
story, we were hearing the waterfall and we've just looked at the other person in the raft with
a panic look on our face for that split second before we tried to desperately, but futilely
try and paddle the fucking thing over to the goddamn coast. Okay, here we go. We're going over.
I got a feeling we're going over. She said, no, there's no one else in my life. I asked if she's
ever been unfaithful in our relationship and she adamantly said no again. Then she turned out the
light and laid down to sleep. Five minutes later, she sat up and turned the light on. Oh, fuck.
She told me she just lied to me and said that she had messed around with someone a year into our
marriage. And he writes in capital letters, what period the period fuck period. I probed her to
tell me what messing around was. That's got to at least be a blowjob.
Ah, fucking whore. And after a minute of me guessing, her silence told me that she went down
on a guy she works with. Oh, swear to God, I hadn't read this. Oh, if I was Verzi right now,
dude, what I say, you heard me, you heard me with the fucking creep. I was furious
and hurt and furious again. She cried and cried and said she was sorry. We cried together. Dude,
you're a bigger man than me. While I tried to wrap my head around how she could possibly have done
that to me. I've had casual flirting with people over the years, but to act on something physically
with someone other than your spouse is completely disgusting to me. The worst part is I love this
woman more than anyone. She's been my out. Here we go again. She's been my best friend for the last
eight years. She knows everything about me. I want to hate her and make her sleep at her parents'
house until we divorce. But all I want to do is be near her again. Yeah, dude, that's because
yeah, dude, she she was in the hurry up offense. That's what happened here. So now you're scampering,
trying to figure out what the fuck is going on. And you know, she has the next three plays that
she just called in the huddle. That's why this this is why it sucks to be you right now.
One of my close friends tells me what I know is the right thing. He goes, let it go. Don't bother
with clownsling. What else has she done that you don't know about? How can you ever trust her again?
Bill, is it possible for me to forgive my wife? Am I wasting my time?
Also, I find out who this guy is and I really wish I hadn't. Yeah, dude. Of course, all I wanted
to do was show up at the job and beat the shit out of him like Ed Norton beats the blonde pretty boy
up and fight club. He writes, I wanted to destroy something beautiful. My other thought is since
this guy also cheated on his girlfriend, who we still with my he did it with my wife. I threatened
to tell his girlfriend what he'd done, but not actually do it. Yeah, you don't want to do that.
That way he'd live in fear of coming home and her knowing everything because I told her, or he
would try to beat me to it and admit to it. Hopefully ending his relationship and getting
terminal cancer and AIDS terminal cancer and AIDS. And you know what? You're still being a
gentleman. I still think that you're handling this with class wishing terminal cancer and AIDS on
this guy. I know you don't give a shit. Of course I give a shit, but not occupy, but I've got to
occupy my mind. So I thought I do it here. Yeah, dude, why would you think I don't give a shit?
You know, I mean, I'm not a friend of yours, but you know what I mean? Give me a fucking break.
This is horrific. All right, your first question. Bill, is it possible for me to
forget my wife? Eventually you're going to have to or you're going to go on a fucking tear
and you're going to meet some really damaged fucking women and they're going to reinforce
everything that you've now found out about your wife. So you can't do that. You're going to go on
a fucking hate fuck pussy spree that is, yeah, you don't want to do that. He said, am I wasting
my time? Yeah, dude, it's over. She's not happy. She's not good at communicating. She puts a lid
on it, you know, until it boils over. This is the deal, dude. You know what? This is going to kill
you. All right, let's go with the positive. You don't have any kids with her. Okay? You can just
walk away. Okay, we had a problem and there was there's nothing we can do. It's over. He didn't
make it. You just fucking walk away. Just walk away. It's over. All right. That's a good thing.
All right. One thing you've had a bunch of kids with this fucking, this person who for whatever
reason couldn't say that they were on. I don't think that she wanted to fucking marry you.
I think she ignores her feelings. She's actually having a fucking breakthrough
right now while stomping all over your fucking heart. All right. Well,
I don't know. I don't know. I don't fuck her. Give me a break, dude. You fucking, you loved her
with all your heart. You say your mother's a sweetheart. You got dogs. You like communicating,
dude. You know something? You're like a fucking guy. You're the guy my girl wants me to be.
Every fucking woman wants a guy like that. You know, guy who actually wants to be married,
guy who actually comes home and communicates. You know, a guy who gets along with the mom and
all that type of shit. You're a family man. All right. Unfortunately, you know,
you met the wrong person. So forget that, dude. All right. Forget it. Forget it. Fuck that. Fuck
that. It's over. Walk away. Walk away, dude. Give me a fuck about you. You know what you're
talking about there? You're talking about like the amount of fucking shit she has to go through
before she even learns how to just communicate or fucking emotions and the frustration of that's
going to mean every once in a while she's going to blow somebody at work. Are you wasting your time?
Apps of fucking Lutely. Okay. Apps of fucking Lutely. And as far as like going there and trying
to fuck over that other guy, that other guy is he's already, you don't need to fuck him over.
He's fucking himself over. He's living that he's living a life of misery. That life is miserable.
To fuck around with the person that you with, with somebody else that is a miserable life.
You know, I don't know. I think it's something that a lot of guys do myself included back in the
day in my twenties going into thirties trying to fucking, you know, figure myself out. I lived
that life that whole fucking double. It's horrible. It's a fucking horrible thing. And in the end,
I ended up alone and I heard a lot of people and I was a complete piece of shit.
So and believe me, dude, it was miserable and ended up me with me on a fucking futon.
So, yeah, dude, you're, you know, don't become a piece of shit now. Don't judge other women
like that. Just fucking, you know, yeah, get out of it. Get out of it and just know that it's
going to be a fucking, I don't know, it's going to be 100 yards of pain that you never fucking
dealt with in your life. And you just got to go through it. And I would say the next time you
get with somebody, make, you know, you're going to get serious with somebody, you make goddamn
sure that they know how to fucking communicate because that's, that's a scary thing to get
with a woman who does not communicate because that's something that they're supposed to teach
us how to do, you know, in a way they make you better because you know, oh, oh, I can just say,
uh, no, I don't feel like doing that without fucking punching the wall. You know, they do that
sort of sell you down. If you get with some psycho and she can't settle you down, I mean,
she's, uh, she's damaged.
All right, 27 year old virgin. Jesus Christ. Hey, Billy, I'd love to hear your humorous take on my
pathetic situation. First of all, dude, let's work on your self-esteem. All right, you're already
shitting all over yourself. All right, watch this guy, watch him shit all over himself.
I'm a 27 year old virgin. Oh, Jesus. That's what he wrote. Now, your first question is going to be,
how the fuck did that happen? Well, to protect myself, I'd actually prefer to keep my background
as quiet as possible. Hey, I'm not trying to get you to rat yourself out. Here's what I can say,
I come from a rich town inhabited by obnoxious cunts. I was always the weird kid and very
socially awkward. People hated me no matter how nice I was. Jesus Christ, dude, are you like
a superhero? That's like the exact same background of like every fucking superhero movie, isn't it?
It's probably because nerds write those movies because they don't know how to fight and all of
a sudden they're like, what if I knew how to fight? What if I could fly? What if there was a guy who
could save me? Um, and then they draw it and then nerds line up around the block to go see it.
Dude, you see the new Spider-Man? Yes, it's exactly like the other ones. Um, I was always the weird
kid and very socially awkward. People hated me no matter how nice I was, and eventually I came to
hate myself and still do. I called it. Dude, I fucking called it. Uh, he's shitting all over
himself. Eventually, it was discovered that I most likely have a mild case of Asperger's syndrome,
which is a mild form of autism, which is way out of my league. Are you guys trying to make me look
dumb? I thought I did that. I achieved that by how awful I read out loud.
Here we go. That causes social ineptitude and quirky personality traits. Well, I would go find
a hooker with Asperger's. That's the first thing I would do and get the fucking V off my back.
Definitely wear a condom. See, that's where my advice is going to be coming from. You guys got
some weird conversation in some ironic vehicle. Um, at least discovering this made me more of
self-aware and I've been able to clean up my act over the last few years, but I still have a lot
of social anxiety, shyness, and very few friends. On the flip side, I'm actually pretty decent looking.
Have a decent job in a laboratory. He's a fucking, he's going to get bit by something radioactive
and he's going to become a superhero. Uh, and I'm a certified commercial pilot and do volunteer work.
Dude, like, you know something? If, if I was in the FBI, like so many fucking red flags just went
up there. Uh, okay. That's the setup now. Now for the question. First, what the fuck would you do
if you were in my situation? I told you, I'd get a hooker with Asperger's syndrome and you guys could
just bond over that. Uh, I don't know. Let me, let me read all your questions. I'm obviously
kidding about trying to find a hooker with Asperger's syndrome. All right. You couldn't find one. That would
be like needle in a haystack. What you'd have to do is go to an escort service and request that
personally. Um, I would think I'm looking for 36, 24, 36 with Asperger.
Hair color does not matter. Yes, I can hold. Um, next, if, if eventually every, I ever do
make it anywhere with the chick, should I tell her upfront about my status? I had this conversation
a few weeks ago with a friend who has a lot of romantic experience and she said it would be extremely
obvious that I'm new to the game and that withholding that information could itself be detrimental.
But I also know that if I do tell a chick I'm 27 year old virgin, she will demand an explanation
before going any further and it will send up red flags for the most. What do you do, Bill?
Thanks for doing your awesome podcast and go fuck yourself. All right. This is what I would do.
I would just start hitting on every chick that fucking interests me and I would be just totally
honest. Tell him, tell her what your, your, uh, your situation is and, uh, you know,
if she doesn't accept it, then fuck her, let her walk and then you don't have to deal with
any of the bullshit. You didn't, or you just, you just fast forwarded through a three year
fucking horrific relationship. Um, I would just be upfront with people. I wouldn't open it with,
hey, you have beautiful eyes and I have Asperger. I wouldn't do that. You know,
um, I would work on myself. Steve, I wouldn't talk shit. You just, you shit on yourself right
out of the gate. I mean, obviously I knew you're going to do that when you said you were a 27 year
old virgin and, and you probably going to go that route. But, uh, think good thoughts about
yourself, man. I know that's kind of like simple, but I, you know, you got to like,
you got to amp yourself up a little bit, go out there and you know, you don't have to go
find the chick of your dreams, but just go out. You don't got to tell some girl you got fucking
Asperger syndrome. You don't, why don't you just do that with somebody that you're really interested
in, but you just want to go out and get laid. Just go out there, start hitting on chicks,
turn it into a game. So you don't have to deal with the pain of the rejection. Just be like,
all right, I don't have the balls to take the next step. Whatever that step is,
peeling yourself off the fucking wall, striking up a conversation, just saying hello to a pretty
girl. She walks down the street. Just try to get over that fucking hurdle and give yourself
permission to suck and you just, you gradually build it up. It's like learning how to play
guitar. You're not going to pick it up and immediately be able to play all your songs.
You learn a couple of fucking chords, you know, then your fingers hurt, right? And you get
frustrated, but you keep coming back and eventually you can fucking play. Pussy is no different.
That's what I would do. Put the Asperger on the back burner. Who knows, dude, maybe you're
not as fucked up as you think you are socially. You know what I mean? Maybe you got a sense of
humor under that. I think you do your shit on yourself in a funny way. You know, spin it around
that way. Do you have any interests? Go, go to a, go to a fucking, I don't know, whatever,
you know, you fly kites, go to some flying the kite convention. There's got to be some woman
there who also likes kites. I know that was an overly simplified thing, but that's what I would do.
All right. And then when you go to like hook up with somebody, uh, they, you know, and yeah,
tell them if you're starting, you're not, don't know what you're doing to watch a couple of
fucking porno's, you know, you'll get the idea. Actually, no, don't do that. Don't do that because
then you'll fucking start slapping them around. Yeah, don't do that. I don't know what to tell you,
dude, right? Get, buy some books. I say, go buy some, buy some books in that, that, uh,
that, that part of the bookstore that, you know, if bookstores exist anymore, go on,
go online. There's got to be plenty of information. I bet if you literally looked up finger banging
technique, if you looked how to kiss, I bet this is just going to be reams of fucking information.
I've never done that because I never had to. Oh, just kidding. Of course I had to. You think that
I didn't wish that fucking information was around way back in the day when you had no idea you just
practice it kissing your fucking pillow and try to overhear conversations in the fucking high
school cafeteria and try to figure out what people were talking about. That's all I could do. You
had, you had the whole world to your fingertips, you know? So when you're done in the laboratory
working with radioactive shit before you, uh, get bit by something, you know, once you go on,
get laid before you learn how to fly. All right. All right.