Pete Holmes | Silly Silly Fun Boy (Full Comedy Special) [34:34-39:34]

Look, I could tell you stories where I win, where I do the right thing. What is gained there? We all let ourselves down. Project your shame onto me and laugh at it. Leave in a slightly better mood. This is shadow work. Do you understand? It was a shot. You're doing the work. Who cares? And I did the right thing. And I was awesome. Get the fuck out of here. This is comedy. Two story. We're driving in the mountains on a perilous two-lane highway. There's no guardrail. There's crevasse. Crevai. There's two crevasse. There's a crevasse here and a crevasse on either. Two crevasse. Dangerous road. In front of us, there's a Jeep Cherokee. I think this adds color to the story. He has a custom bumper sticker over the entirety of his back windshield. It said, I'm not making this up. It said, smoke pot. Eat, twat. Smile a lot. That's what it said. In big blocks, silver letters. For children and clergy to read. With a glance. Smoke pot. Eat, twat. I hadn't even thought of that expression in years. Eat, twat. And I heard some of the ladies cheering like, yay, kind of lingas. But come on. Ladies, you know, no guy that calls it eating twat. There's no ways any good at it. There's no way. No woman has ever been like, and he said, may I eat your twat. And boy, oh boy, am I glad I said yes. Because that man was a twat gobbler. He gobbled it up. He gave it a righteous gobble gobble. Afterwards, he smoked a joint. He wouldn't stop smiling. It was the best. The best day of his life. Smoke pot. Eat, twat. That is the most American sticker I've ever seen in my life. We left England for the freedom to say things like that. You'd never see that in England, smoke potty twat. Also, I was just there. They don't say twat in England. They say twat. So it wouldn't work. Ruins. Ruins the rhyme. Smoke potty twat doesn't work. You could do smoke a blend. Oh, this is the best seed in the house. I just got to watch 600 Portland sweeties be like, there are a lot looser with that word over there. But anyway, it's a story about being uncaring, remember? You don't need to remember. That's my job. The Jeep Smoke Pot Guy starts veering off the road. He's probably Google image searching twats. It starts veering off the road towards a cliff face. And I swear to God, it's the middle of the day. Val is with me. I don't remember making the choice to do this. But this is what I did. I went, bye. It would have taken less effort to honk the horn, but I just went, bye. He corrected. That would be fucked up if I was like, he did a fiery cart reel right down that mountain. He's eating twat and hell now, boys. I'm getting closer to the end of my life, not the show, the end of my life. I'm 45. You know, I know I'm getting older as I got in bed the other night. I was barefoot, so I rubbed my barefoot on Val's barefoot, you know, keeping the passion alive. I'm not making this up. My wife goes, are you wearing shoes? I'm going to die soon. I got those Nike feet. I got those Timberlint toes. You know what else happens in my 40s that never happen in my 20s? Like, five, six, seven, eight times a day. I'll eat something and it'll just stop. It just stops here. It's like I don't have enough spit to get it down. Never happened in my 20s. I could eat a rolled up ball of sand paper. Go down like a water slide. It's just happened backstage. I ate an almond and it just stops. It's too dry. It's like I've thrown menopause, so it just lodges. So six, seven, eight times a day. I think I'm going to die. I think I'm choking. And based on how I react, I am not going to have a chill death, you guys.