Dan Soder: Son of a Gary (2019) - full transcript

♪

Okay, boys and girls.

Let's keep our eyes

on the prize.

Fly safe, fly true.

Set your phasers to "fun".

Hey, Captain!

-They are so great.

-No, they're really not.

♪

Oh, Mr. Judd. You're here!

Good job. I like to see folk

take pride in their work,

even if some might call that

work menial. Not me, though.

We consider passengers

as equals.

Hi.

This is not good!

♪

Let's-- Let's all

take a second here.

-They'll figure this out.

-Who's the engineer here?

-Who's the genius?

-Who's the captain?

Who fucked up?

-What the hell's going on?

-Should we be scared?

This is a safe space,

emotionally.

Physically, we're obviously

in terrible danger.

Everybody, stay calm!

Hey, you're not, uh, getting

into some escape pod, are you?

Ma'am, if I had an escape pod,

I would put you in it.

Set the fucking thing on fire.

♪

♪

Announcer:

Ladies and gentlemen,

Dan Soder!

Yeah.

Yay!

How the hell are ya?

Wha? Ah!

All right.

All right.

Thank you. All right.

That-- that's--

It was believable to a point.

But then you're like,

you don't even know.

You don't know

how this is gonna go.

This could suck!

You could leave

and you'd be like,

"Why the fuck

did I clap in the beginning?

That guy stinks at comedy!"

I don't know.

I don't know anything.

I'm a dumb person.

I've learned

you're not allowed

to call yourself dumb

on the Internet

without a stranger

arguing with you.

That's how fucking

broken the Internet is.

If you go online,

you're like, "I'm an idiot!"

Someone you've never met

will be like, "Don't say that."

"You don't know that."

It's the only thing

I actually know.

I'm 36 years old.

I just learned,

this summer, from a doctor,

I'm no longer allowed to eat,

then go to sleep.

What kind of horseshit

world are we living in?

Dude, my favorite thing

in the world is to eat,

then go directly to sleep.

I'll eat laying down

if it speeds up the process.

Have you ever had a huge meal

then gone right to sleep?

You sleep so fuckin' deep.

You touch the bottom

of the pool every time.

Whenever I meet someone

that's like, "I have insomnia,"

I'm like, "You're not

eating late enough."

Just...

eat as your eyes

are shutting,

you're gonna go down

like a goddamn grizzly bear.

You are gonna wake up

with the heartburn

of a 20-year

homicide detective...

...getting chewed up

by cold cases.

Like, "All those bodies

and no names!"

"Those are someone's

children, Diane!?

Yeah, sometimes--

I'm glad you guys liked that

'cause there's been

some audiences that are like,

"Is that a fake detective

with PTSD?"

What are you mad about?

It's a made-up person.

He's never seen real shit.

I should tell you

at the top of this,

I am, uh, I am 20% white trash,

so it should explain

everything else.

It's not a--

Twenty percent white trash

isn't enough to hurt you.

It's not, it just means

I like multiple flavors

of Mountain Dew...

...and I have bet and lost money

on the X-Games.

I had a snowmobile parlay

that fucked me.

No, I grew up in Colorado

and I was always like,

"Oh, our, uh, our white trash

doesn't have accents

'cause we don't have accents."

And then I watched the X-Games

and I was like,

"There it is. There it is."

Just every athlete that's like,

"Hey, what's up?

I want to give a shout-out

to my sponsors."

Like, "Fuck, it's every kid

I went to middle school

with in Aurora."

"Just want to say

what's up to Fox Racing,

"Hefty Garbage Bags,

KY Jelly."

"How the fuck are those

your sponsors?"

Yeah.

I'm a-- I'm a guaranteed weirdo

'cause I'm an only child.

Um... I was--

I was raised by a single mom,

so I was alone a lot,

and my dad picked

the bottle over me,

so comedian.

That's the recipe.

Just add water.

Or, in my dad's case, Bacardi,

and then he fucks off.

Yeah! You guys

don't think I'm up here

'cause shit

went well, do you?

You think that's why

I'm onstage nightly,

begging for the

affection of strangers...

...'cause I had

a good childhood?

If I had a good childhood,

I wouldn't be a comedian.

I'd just be the

funniest guy that works

at Enterprise Rental Car.

Don't-- Don't

act like I wouldn't.

I would fucking

crush on the lot.

I'd be upgrading you

from a standard to a full size.

Yeah, I was just a weird kid.

I was just a strange--

I talked to myself a lot.

Loved action figures.

Loved action figures,

until I was 12.

It's... pretty old.

It's kind of old to play

with boy dolls.

Also at 12 years old,

because I'm 20% white trash,

I started smoking cigarettes.

Do you know how hilarious

of an overlap that is?

I would--

I would play with my GI Joes

in earnest for 30 minutes,

and then go outside

and fire up a Marlboro Red.

Just like...

"I think Cobra's

got the high ground."

"We lost a Ninja Turtle

to a lawnmower last week.

War is hell."

Some little girl

in my neighborhood

walks up with a cigarette,

she's like, "You got a light?

Ken and Barbie

aren't doing so hot."

"We had to put a Pound Puppy

down last week."

I'm kidding, I would never

hurt a dog. I love dogs.

I get excited every time--

Every single time

I see a dog, I get excited,

even when I have weed

on me at the airport.

It's a complicated

relationship.

Remember you got that

bag of weed in your pocket,

and you turn the corner,

and you're like,

"You a good boy

or a bad boy?"

That dog's like...

Gets close to you,

you're like, "Fuck,

please be cool. Fuck!"

There's always one person

there to be like,

"Those dogs actually

sniff for bombs,"

and you're like,

"Ah, well, in that case,

thank you for your service."

"I've always really

respected Labradors.

I find you to be

a great breed."

I feel bad for the guys that

hold those dogs at the airport.

Always the bridesmaid,

never the bride.

I bet there's a bunch

of shit they want to smell.

Dude, that's--

I think that's hilarious

that they signed up to be like,

"I want to protect people

that are traveling.

How do you

want me to do that?"

And someone was like,

"Fucking hold this dog."

"But make sure

you scream at every child

that tries to touch it."

See, that's the best part

of consistently traveling

is watching little kids

learn to hate authority

'cause they've tried

to pet the security dog.

They're walking through,

and they're like, "Doggy!"

Some cop's like,

"Don't touch the dog!"

Some five-year-old's like,

"Man, fuck the police.

This fucking pig, stopping me

from touching a doggy."

I travel, uh,

I travel, on average about 25,

30 weeks a year doing this.

That's a lot of airports.

That's a lot of

other people's children.

I hear a lot of screaming babies

for a guy that comes

in the right places.

Fucking farm to bag!

I don't get mad

at screaming babies.

I'm not a monster.

I think you're a dick

if you get mad

at a screaming baby

on an airplane.

I know what's going on,

that kid can't talk.

Its ears hurt

so it's just gonna scream.

I think you're a dick

if you get mad at the parents

of a screaming baby

on an airplane.

Have you seen the parents

of a screaming baby

on an airplane?

They are not into it!

They're not like, "Yeah,

this guy fucking yells, huh?

"You guys want to see

something cool?

"Sometimes I push

real deep on his stomach

and he goes fucking nuts."

It's the only way to fly...

a child losing its shit.

I've gotten on flights though,

and I've seen people that

don't have screaming babies,

you know, they're just

on the flight and they go

right to that gate agent,

and they're like,

"I'm a Sky Miles member

and I was..."

Like, you're a piece of shit!

You're an active piece of shit.

But that's what happened.

That's what Yelp did to us.

Just turned us into

a generation of snitches.

It's true, man, we love

to tell on each other.

Like, "He did that."

For what? For what?

For your benefit?

Dude, the customer

service generation

has ruined the American dream.

Sincerely, like that

old American dream.

You know, that one

that's like...

"I'm gonna work hard,

save up my money,

and give my kids a better life."

That shit's gone!

The new American dream is like,

"I spent a

little bit of money...

"on a product.

"If anything... goes wrong,

I'm gonna fucking

uncork on someone."

Yeah!

You know how dogs, uh,

pre-bark before they bark?

If you have a dog,

you know what I'm talking about.

Like, dogs can hear...

They can hear people

walk up to the door.

So, before those people

hit the doorbell,

the dogs will be asleep

and they'll be like, "Bark."

And then-- and then, you know.

And then the doorbell goes,

like...

America's in a constant

pre-bark bark.

That's where

we're at right now.

Trust me, dude, I know.

I was a really shitty

waiter for six years,

real bad.

Trust-- However bad you think,

much worse.

Straight up used to

forget people existed.

I was a terrible waiter.

But I always knew

I wasn't actually in trouble

if someone asked

to speak to the manager,

'cause I knew

the problem wasn't real.

It was always, like,

they found a hair in their food.

And those people want

a very specific reaction.

When they find that hair,

they want you,

as their waiter, to be like,

"I'm sorry!

"I fucking suck!

I'm gonna smash my dick

with a hammer!"

They're all, "Yes, yes!

I'm the customer!"

Fucking-- they love that.

I never gave 'em that. Ever!

- Whenever they find a hair in their food, I'd be like...

- "Cool!"

They do not like that.

They don't like

when you do that.

Be like, "Keep going!

You might find another one!"

One time, this lady showed me

a hair, and she goes,

"Whose hair is this?!"

It's like, "The fucking guy

making it!

"What do you want, lady?!

What's your endgame?

You want a kitchen

full of hairless people?"

Do you have any fucking clue

how terrifying that would be?

If you walked in a kitchen

and they had no head,

or eyebrow hair.

Like, "It's almost ready!"

Like, "What is? What are you

fucking serpent people making?"

You want a kitchen

full of Voldemorts.

You're cool with that.

Dude, I love that

you're laughing,

but your laugh could

also border on bully,

in such a way...

Like, I know it's supportive,

but I am insecure enough,

that if it did--

if a couple of jokes

didn't hit the way I wanted,

I'd be like, "Are you--

what the fuck you

laughing at?"

Just go full Aurora!

Like, "What's up, bro?

You wanna fucking die tonight?"

I don't get mad

at screaming babies.

Just solve the problem yourself,

be an adult.

Be an adult.

Pick the hair out of your food,

fucking move forward.

The second I hear

a screaming baby on an airplane,

I don't get mad. I don't.

Second I hear that kid,

like...

I just shut my eyes,

and pretend the baby is

the lead singer of an EMO band.

You can't get mad at that.

"Waaah!" and then pretend

he has bangs over his face.

♪ I'm flying and I'm scared ♪

♪ And whoa, so, waaaah ♪

And I'm laughing

at a screaming baby,

looking like a psycho.

I'm like, "It's gonna

be a good flight.

"The kid's really going

through some stuff.

He understands pain."

I feel like I should be honest.

I did lie.

I have been mad about

one screaming baby

on an airplane.

Uh, it was a four-hour flight,

and the kid screamed

takeoff to touchdown.

Which, halfway through,

you're like,

"This is just impressive."

The lung capacity on this thing.

It's the second most

impressive thing I've ever seen.

One time I was on a

cross-country flight,

and I took a heavy edible.

And I heard two different

screaming babies harmonize.

I don't even know

if it was the edible,

or if I just made that up,

but I was-- I was

honored to be there.

But this flight,

this four-hour flight,

this kid wouldn't stop.

It was like, "Aaaaah!"

And then as we landed,

you just heard the kid go,

"Aaah! Mom?"

It's like, "Motherfucker!

You can talk?!"

"Now we got a problem!

Now we got a real problem!"

I just--

Waiting at the end

of a jetway for a baby.

Just like...:

"What's up, dude?

"What's up? You fucking 16B?

"You're a noisy boy!

Fuck! What's up, dude?"

I don't have kids.

Don't worry.

I do-- I do not have children.

Uh, not sure if I'm gonna.

I might just keep

shooting my gun in the dirt.

Yeah! Uh, there's been times

where I feel like I'd be

a phenomenal father.

There's been a couple of times

where I'm like,

"I'd be a really good dad."

One time, I brought

edibles home from

Colorado to New York.

And my roommate couldn't sleep.

I told him to eat late.

He didn't listen.

But he's like, "I know

you have those edibles.

Can I eat one

of those edibles?

It might help me sleep."

I was like, "Better,

I'll eat one with you.

I'm a good roommate."

So, he ate his edible

and went to sleep.

I ate my edible

and played video games.

Like a man who lives

with a roommate.

Very on-brand.

I got-- I got through

one quarter of a game

of NBA 2K,

and then I felt the warmth

in my stomach.

You know when

you feel that edible warmth,

and you're like, "Oh!

"There's a storm coming!"

Every weed edible's

the exact same.

You eat it, and then

30 minutes later,

you go, "That didn't do shit!"

And then the edible's like,

"What the fuck did you say?!"

Like the edible

was gonna leave

but it came back in,

"What did they guy say?

What did he say?!

"I don't do shit?

Here's every fear you've had

since you're nine!"

Oh, fuck, oh!

I forgot I don't like

the smell of fresh glue!

So, that's where I'm at!

I'm about to get launched.

And I'm like,

"If I'm going through this..."

Then I look over

to my roommate's bedroom,

his door-- wide open!

He's standing in the doorway,

in just his boxers,

holding a gallon of water.

And right as we make

eye contact, he just goes,

"I think you gave me too much."

It was--

It's the only time in my life

I've ever felt like a dad!

I was like, "Hey, buddy!

Can you not handle your shit?"

"Let's put you on the couch.

Get on some Family Guys ."

I, actually, did a bunch of

shows in Canada this summer,

and I learned that Canada,

as a country,

legalized marijuana completely

across the board.

But they weren't

allowed to have edibles

till December of 2019,

because, in Colorado,

when it went legal in 2014,

a bunch of little kids

ate edibles,

and got cool as fuck!

They were immediately

skateboarding to school.

They called their parents

by their first names.

No, I mean, that's got

to be fucked up.

You're six years old

and you just knock back

three gummy bears

and then 25 minutes later

you're like...

You're starting to sweat like,

"I'm starting to think

Santa's not real.

"Uh, I got first grade right

around the corner. Fuck it.

They're bending

letters into each other."

Yeah.

I do drugs. I'm fun.

I'm a fun, fun guy.

Thank you!

I, uh, I don't--

I don't do coke.

I'm not obnoxious.

Sorry, sorry, not gonna

corner you at a house party

and try to start

a business with you.

It's just fun to see

who's been trapped, by a small--

yeah, with a guy that's like,

"Dude, I'll get us

a website by Monday."

"You know the people,

I know the places.

"We got to fucking hang out.

We got to fucking

hang out way more."

No, I don't like--

I don't like the drugs that

make you take your shirt off.

I don't have

the torso for it.

I like the drugs that make you

wonder why we wear shirts.

The kind, you lay,

and you're like,

"What is a shirt?

Are we shirts for our souls?"

I do mushrooms, I probably

shouldn't have just said that.

I like to, yeah,

I like to do mushrooms.

Yeah. I agree.

I agree,

till I've eaten too many,

then I don't agree.

I eat too many,

I don't like anything...

existence, gravity.

Got a real problem with mirrors.

It's just fun to see who laughs

'cause you know that

they've stared in a mirror

and been like, "Fuck!"

Yeah, last-- two summers ago

I went to a music festival,

and took 3.7 grams of mushrooms.

- Yeah, that's what

I love about drug math.

It fucking gets that

honesty out of people.

That was great.

Doesn't get laughs,

but you-- you know.

I said 3.7 grams,

you know, everyone that

didn't do mushrooms

in the room's like,

"That's not even enough

for a casserole."

They just heard

a bunch of, like,

"Oh, fuck, oh, God.

So you're, like,

a different guy now."

Yeah, don't do that

at a music festival.

A lot of conflicting energies.

I ended up losing

my shit in a field.

I learned a lot.

I learned a whole lot.

Mostly I learned that

electronic dance music

is the devil's music.

You know how, like,

since the '50s, they're like,

"Rock and roll

is the devil's music.

Rap's the devil."

No, those have soul.

EDM is just robots

tricking you into dancing.

"Boop-boop-boop-boop

Boop-boop.

Let the beat drop."

That's Satan.

Who do you think that is?

It's the fucking devil

sealing us up.

No, I just don't--

I just don't like EDM.

I've never heard

an EDM song I like.

It all sounds like it's based

on an alarm clock.

Every single one's like,

"Ca-ca-ca-ca-ca."

You're like, "Oh, fuck,

am I late for my nine o'clock?

No, that's just

the latest single from

a Swedish teenager."

I don't know, Scandinavia

is just pumping out EDM DJs.

You can like EDM,

I don't have to like it.

That's what music is.

You can like shit I don't like,

I can like shit you don't like.

Some people don't like music.

Do you know

those fucking psychos

are walking around?

I was at a barbecue,

and I heard a woman

in a different

conversation group just go,

"I don't like music."

What? I thought she meant,

you know, like, genre.

So I was like, "Oh, you mean,

like, country, or metal?"

She's like,

"I don't like music."

Fun.

I bet you're

a blast on a road trip.

Just an hour in, she's like,

"Turn off the radio!

"I want to hear the wind

whip around the cabin.

"Leave one window down

so an odd pressure builds.

I love long drives

with the feeling of

an inner ear infection."

What kind of broken monster

doesn't like music?

That's fucking strange.

My favorite thing

in the world is to get high,

take a shower,

and listen to music.

Love it.

Love it.

I do it every day.

It might be a problem,

we don't know yet.

I try to explain,

you don't have

to be just high

in the shower

letting the water hit you.

You can do stuff.

You can-- you can air drum.

You can air guitar.

You can do my personal favorite,

which is bring up a fight

with a coworker from 2004.

You guys never reheat some

15-year-old beef in the shower?

That's what shower arguments

are built for,

giving someone

you haven't seen the business.

You're just like, "Fuck you.

You're always that

fucking guy at work."

And then you give them

something to say.

You're like, "I knew you were

gonna bring that up, I knew it!"

This is how low

my self-esteem is.

I lose 50% of my

shower arguments.

I lose as many as I win.

My roommates walked

by the bathroom

and heard me

in the shower alone like,

"You know what?

It's a good point.

I apologize."

"I'm sorry.

I didn't see it

from your perspective."

Yeah, I mean, when you, uh...

when you go on the road

as a mall clown you have to...

Yeah, that's what this is.

People laugh at that,

but it's true, I'm--

I'm a mall clown.

I'm cool with it,

I love my job.

But sometimes when

you're a comedian in 2019,

you can get on Twitter

and see other comedians

that I'm friends with

and genuinely respect,

Tweet out crazy shit like,

"As an artist..."

The fuck are you

talking about?

We're a step above carnies.

Art? You think

I compete with art?

There's not a two-drink

minimum at the ballet.

I know what I am.

Most of the rooms I perform in

were originally designed

for laser tag.

It's all right,

I know what I am.

One of the parts

that sucks that I don't like

is when you're on the road

on Friday mornings,

you got to wake up super early

and you got to go

pimp yourself out

to a local radio station

to sell tickets.

You got to go make fucking

Buzz and the Scooch laugh.

Which is fun until it's not.

Then they suck and they're like,

"Hey, we're here with

Dan Soder from Trillions

and the Campfire Podcast."

Like, "It's called

the fucking Bonfire."

So I was in--

I was in Washington, DC,

and they're like,

"You got to get up

at six in the morning

for morning radio."

I was like, "Fuck that."

I got up at 5:30

in the morning,

got irresponsibly stoned,

and then took a shower

and listened to music,

'cause I'm an artist.

I was in the shower.

I was listening to

Chance the Rapper's

Coloring Book.

Great album.

There's a song on there

with Lil' Wayne

and Lil' Wayne has this verse

where he just goes,

"I got problems bigger

than these boys, oh-oh-oh."

And that noise...

...made me laugh harder

than anything

I've heard in comedy.

Dude, he gives up.

He gives up

in the middle of a song!

He's just like, "Oh-oh-oh."

Look it up, it's not a lyric.

Dude, that shit had me

laughing so fucking hard.

I just started

replicating the noise.

I was like, "Oh-oh-oh."

And then I started putting it

in different situations,

like I was surprised,

like, "Oh-oh-oh."

You know, scared like,

"Oh-oh-oh."

I did it enough that

I was laughing hard enough

that I dropped my body wash,

then when I picked up

my body wash I was like,

"Oh, shit.

This is gonna be

my new mistake noise."

Like, if I meet someone new,

you know, and I'm like,

"This is my friend Adam."

I'm like, "Adam?"

"Aaron."

"Oh-oh-oh."

So now I'm laughing harder.

I'm having a great,

great naked, wet laugh,

which surprisingly

you get very few of in life.

Most of the time

if you're naked,

you're wet,

and you're laughing,

you're a crazy person.

You just escaped something.

You're just like, "Yeah!"

Like, "He's so

fucking slippery."

So I'm in the shower.

I'm laughing very hard,

and then I just hear

a very subtle, like

"Shut the fuck up."

But I'm high enough

that I'm like,

"Maybe I'm--

Maybe I'm making that up."

So I turn--

turn the speaker off,

get back in the shower,

I hear it

very clear like,

"Shut the fuck up."

I don't think I've ever

laughed harder in my life.

I almost slipped in the tub.

That guy's day is fucking done.

5:50 in the morning

you're up slamming

on a wall yelling,

"Shut the fuck up"?

You cannot have

a good day after that.

You know how many times

that guy heard me

make that noise?

It wasn't once.

Just dead asleep

and it's like, "Oh-oh-oh."

"Shut up."

"Oh-oh-oh."

"Shut the fuck up."

"Oh-oh-oh."

"Shut the fuck up!"

That guy definitely

has a real job.

He's just tired at work later

in a conference room like,

"Hey, guys. Uh, sorry

I'm not the sharpest.

"They got me staying

next to Lil' Wayne.

This guy is full of mistakes."

Pretty sure

I'm gonna die alone.

We all are physically,

unless you grab a nurse

at the last second.

I just wanted to see

who's fun in the room.

Fuck you,

that's a fun joke.

If you could time

that out right,

that's a real fun joke.

Just second to last

breath like,

"Get over here."

Just fuck up some

orderly's Wednesday.

They're like, "Yeah,

was a good day

"till the guy in 34C fucking

headlocked me before he died.

"20 minutes, 20 minutes

in that armpit.

They had to butter

my neck to get me out."

Now, I'm 36 years old.

I'm single.

I don't believe

in dating apps,

'cause you can't

smell the other person.

Come at me with your science,

I will prove you wrong.

No, I, uh... dating in my 30s

is basically me looking back

to every single one

of my previous relationships

and being like,

"Oh, it was my fault...

the whole time.

Huh, really thought it was

someone else there

for a second."

I used to have such a bad

drinking problem in my 20s,

I would wake up on the subway

in New York and be like,

"Not a decent woman

in this town."

Fucking puke all over my jeans.

I'm like, "You cannot

find a good girl."

And now I'm like, "Oh yeah,

call's definitely coming

from inside the house."

A lot of apologies.

No, I used to, you know,

when I was in my 20s

and even in my early 30s,

used to be afraid

to tell women that I had

a fucked up childhood.

I just didn't want to tell 'em

'cause I was afraid

they were gonna run away,

and now I realize, if you had

a fucked up childhood,

you should brag about it...

'cause it means

you can endure.

And it means you're gonna be

way better at sex as an adult.

Sorry, everyone,

that's the trade-off.

Terrible childhood,

dynamite in the bedroom.

You're not gonna be

a good partner, no, no, no.

You're gonna be a

big problem for a lot of people,

but you're gonna have

some seasoning on you.

What, do you want to

fuck someone that got raised

by two loving parents?

What, do you want to make

eye contact the whole time

and stay in between

the sheets?

Gross.

I want to fuck someone

that got punched in the head

for no reason.

I want a wild card.

Best sex I ever had in my life,

I had to watch

my wallet the entire time.

I thought we were being adults,

being honest with each other.

I'm broken, I have

abandonment issues.

I go down on women

like I have abandonment issues.

I give please-don't-leave-me

head.

I'm broken,

your cum is the glue.

It's an old family motto.

I think my grandma

has it stitched on a pillow.

I think it's so weird.

I think it's so weird

you're allowed to

advertise with sex.

You're allowed to make people

feel like shit because of sex.

But the second you bring up

the psychological reasoning

for a sexual behavior,

everyone gets weird.

It's fucked up.

It's hard to meet

a sexual partner

that you match with.

Some people

like to talk dirty.

Some people don't.

Real tough to be on the

wrong end of that one.

I hooked up with a girl once,

I started talking dirty

and immediately she goes,

"Oh boy. We got a talker."

Oh, whoo, that was right

in the solar plex.

Yeah, if you ever want

to know how to shut

someone up during sex

that is the perfect way.

I promise you,

for the next four minutes

that man's gonna

breathe through his nose

like he's moving a couch

against his will.

It's a lot of through

the teeth talking.

You're like, "Fuck,

it feels very good."

No, I mean, I'm still idyllic.

You know, I'm 36,

but I'm still idyllic.

I love crushes.

Crushes are fun.

When you have a crush on someone

and you see 'em and you're like,

"Fuck."

Or they text you

and you're like, "Oh, fuck."

Or you tell them

you have a crush on them

and they're, like, not into it

and you're like, "Fuck."

Dude, revealing a crush

to someone that's not into it

has to be the creepiest

feeling in the world.

You feel like you're showing

someone a dead body

in the woods.

You're like, "Come here,

I want to show you something."

She's like, "What? What is it?"

"Come here, it's over here.

I put it under this tarp."

Like, "What?"

And you're like, "I love you!"

They're like, "No,

I thought we were friends!"

You're like, "Fuck, no.

We're just friends.

We're just friends.

"Fuck it. Totally friends.

"Fuck. Fuck, let's get out

of these woods, huh?

Let's fucking go."

I like having crushes.

They're still fun.

But I'm in my 30s,

so they're just a little

more perverted.

That's it, that's

the only difference.

When I had a crush on a girl

when I was a teenager,

I was always like,

"She's so pretty. I hope I--

I hope I get to kiss her."

Now at 36,

when I like a woman I'm like,

"Phew, I hope

I get to eat her butt.

"I'm trying to put my mouth

on her worst part

over and over again."

Which is crazy 'cause

I remember growing up,

uh, you know, little kids would

always try to tease you,

and they'd be like,

"You're a butt munch."

Remember that?

Like, "You're a butt munch."

You're like, "No, I'm not!

No, I'm not!"

Turns out those kids

nailed it, nailed it.

They knew me better

than I knew myself.

It took three decades

for my palate to develop.

I definitely--

I definitely can't, uh,

I definitely can't date a woman

that doesn't have

a dark sense of humor.

If you don't laugh

at dark humor,

I don't think

I can hang out with you

if you don't laugh

at dark humor.

If you don't laugh

at dark humor,

I think you did something,

you know?

Any time I've ever met

someone that's like,

"Don't joke about that!"

It's like, "Who did you hurt?"

If you don't laugh

at dark humor,

I'm convinced you don't laugh

at your own farts.

I don't want that for anybody.

What a tough way

to go through life,

just standing there

alone like...

How dare that air

rip out my butthole?

You know, I love farts.

Farts are the funniest

thing in the world,

any country, any language,

top dog, farts.

Biggest laugh

I ever got in my life

was 'cause of a fart.

Fifteen years old,

I was taking the PSATs.

You know exactly

what kind of chair I was in.

I was in one of those orange

public school plastic chairs,

the original fart amp.

Dude, the curvature

on those bad boys--

unbelievable.

If you had the one with

the three slits in the back,

you could play

different chords.

It's like, "Peh-peh-peh."

So my mom gets

the money together.

I go to take the PSATs.

It's on a Saturday.

They put me in a classroom

with three of my best friends.

That's their first mistake.

Second mistake was the teacher

that was proctoring the tests

was a teacher

from a different school,

so I don't know this guy.

I don't respect his smell.

I'm making my friends laugh

throughout the test.

Halfway through

the teacher just comes

and stands over my desk

and he goes,

"Young man, do you know

how to be quiet?

Q-U-I..."

Right as he gets to the E

I just look up at him

and lean a little bit

to my left, and then went...

Biggest laugh

I ever got in my life.

Legitimately thought I was

gonna get a standing ovation.

It was like a fucking

Def Jam set in there.

Then a DJ played me

out of the room.

That's not true.

They asked me to leave.

They, uh...

Yeah, you can't fart

in a teacher's face

and go right back

to your Scantron.

I definitely broke

a grown man that day.

You can't return

to a position of authority

after a teenager

has locked eyes

and farted in your face.

I heard he walked into the woods

and ended it Japanese style,

the honorable way.

No, I think you

should use dark humor

to laugh at the shit

in your own life that hurts.

I think that's the best use

for humor in general

is just make fun of the shit

in your life that sucks,

and it helps.

It doesn't solve it,

but it alleviates it.

If you make fun of the

darkest shit in your life,

I promise you,

it's just a drop of lube...

...in a buttfucking of a life.

I love doing dead dad jokes.

My dad's dead.

People with dead dads

love dead dad jokes.

You know who doesn't like

dead dad jokes, surprisingly?

People with living dads.

Greedy assholes, you're like,

"Are you talking

about my papa?"

Like, "Shut up. Shut up,

he's fucking fine."

If you have a dead parent,

you know what I'm talking about,

the second

you bring it up to someone

that doesn't have

a dead parent,

they get weird as fuck.

It's not their fault,

they just don't know

how to handle that

so they just get, like...

They end up just

launching sympathy at you

that feels way out of place.

When they find out

they're like, "No!"

You're like, "What the fuck?

What do they owe you money?

What's up?"

Like, I don't understand that.

I don't understand why

you're sad about something

that you've never...

Like, I tell people

all the time

my dad died of drinking

when I was 14,

and immediately

people are like,

"That is terrible."

You don't know him.

He was a Jimmy Buffet fan.

That's exactly what he wanted.

Cirrhosis is

the Parrot Head way out.

My dad literally wasted away

in Margaritaville.

What are you sad about?

You didn't-- He's not your dad.

I don't understand

why his alcoholism's always

supposed to be sad

when I tell people

he's an alcoholic.

They're like,

"Did he steal your food money

and spend it on his hooch?"

No, he was just fun.

I'm sorry that my dad

partied so hard

he died from it.

What's up, Gary?

I think your living dads

are a bunch of nerds.

Staying alive your whole life,

fucking geeks.

"Oh, I'm gonna be there

when you turn into a man."

Beat it, dork.

Go steal some rum,

disappear for a couple years.

Make me interesting.

I don't even know

if my dad is actually dead.

That's just some shit

my grandma told me.

You guys just got white-trash

M. Night Shyamalaned.

Fucking twisted.

No, he's dead.

He's in the dirt.

We, uh... we have

the paperwork.

Did you know there's

levels of dead dad?

I didn't know that,

like degrees of a black belt.

Like, when my dad

was alive he wasn't around,

so I was always jealous

of kids whose dads were around.

Then my dad died,

then I got jealous of kids

with better dead dads.

Dude, I've lived in New York

the last 13 years.

I have multiple friends

whose dads died

saving people in 9-11.

Top-shelf dead dad.

That is premium American hero,

dead dad.

My dad died

drinking next to a lake.

He relaxed to death.

Bottom-shelf dead dad.

Dude, my friends' dads

probably said something

heroic, you know, like,

"We need to save

those people."

My dad's last words were, like,

"I like mine

with lettuce and tomato."

"Pickles and pickle,

and cold..."

I don't even believe in death.

I think it's just another form

of consciousness.

That's how many

mushrooms I've taken.

I know, I know.

I definitely believe

in aliens, that's for sure.

It's 2019, if you don't

believe in aliens,

you're an asshole.

And you're the reason

they're not showing up.

Fucking knock it off.

Be cool,

they have a lot of stuff

we could use.

I think if you don't believe

in aliens it's for two reasons.

It's either mathematically

you don't know how large

the universe is,

or psychologically you don't

want to deal with the fact

that aliens don't want

to hang out with us.

Stings, don't it?

They're just flying right

by like, "No, fuck that shit."

Why would they?

Why would they ever want

to hang out with us?

We've never left the planet.

We went to the moon in the '60s.

We haven't stopped

sucking our own dicks since.

We went to

the edge of the driveway

and touched the mailbox.

And we're like,

"We're space travelers."

Shut up.

What happens

whenever we go

to another planet?

Whenever we launch

a fucking satellite

to another planet,

the second it touches down,

first thing, humans are like,

"Is there water here?"

What a shitty way

to show up somewhere.

If anyone walked

into your house like,

"Where's your water?

If you don't have water,

you don't have life!"

You'd be like,

"Get the fuck out of my house."

We don't know.

We're the home-schooled

kids of the universe.

That's what we are.

We've never left the planet.

We're just standing on our

lawn like, "We have puzzles."

And they're like,

"Get the fuck out of here."

My favorite people

are the people who

want to fight the aliens.

Those people are

fucking hilarious.

They're always like,

"Let them show up."

It's like, what are

you gonna do?

What are you gonna

Will Smith them?

You gonna

punch them in the face

and they're gonna fuck off?

You forget that Pokemon Go

almost took us out.

Do you remember that

smudge on humanity?

People were looking

at their phones like,

"I think there's a Pikachu."

And it's like,

Like, "Aah."

I think my fear of aliens

is that they are gonna land,

I'm gonna meet one,

say something stupid,

and then they're

gonna fuck off.

I'm always afraid that

I've said some dumb shit

and I'm not aware of it,

always.

I live in Queens.

I've lived there for 13 years.

I live next to a mosque,

best neighbors

I've ever had in my life.

Legitimately,

they pass out cookies

when they break fast on Ramadan,

which as a pothead...

...what a way to learn

about a holiday.

So we live in the

front of the building

and we don't have bars

on our windows

'cause our landlord

hates us,

and one of our windows jams

'cause the wood is warped.

So last summer

I got the window open,

got a nice breeze,

got very high,

then I'm running very late.

They're probably connected.

But I was definitely

more late than I was high.

Like, I was late to the point

where I'm like, you know,

you pick up your keys

and then you drop them,

and then you accidentally

kick them under the couch.

And then you're like,

"Let the fucking world burn."

So I'm like that kind of late,

and then I go

to shut the window,

can't shut the window.

Fucking pushing on it.

I'm high enough that I'm like,

"Did I forget how

to shut a window?"

And I'm pushing on

this window, not moving.

As I'm working the window,

a woman in a full burka

comes out of the mosque,

with maybe, like,

a three-year-old boy

at her side.

And she's walking in front

of my apartment,

and right as she gets

to the front,

her and I lock eyes,

and right as we do

the window just slams shut.

And I just go, "No, no!"

And she grabs

her son like, "Aah!"

That fucked me up

for three months.

Three months.

Three months,

I keep thinking

about this little boy

who's gonna grow up

to be the most famous

person of all time,

and he's gonna be like,

"One day when I was a child,

"my mother and I

were leaving the mosque

"when a white man

with red eyes

slammed his window

and yelled, 'No!'"

That's not what happened,

I was fucking late.

Just yelling at a biography,

"I'm sorry!"

I'm always paranoid.

I live in a constant state

of paranoia.

I'm a hypochondriac.

I'm a massive hypochondriac.

This week alone

I've battled throat cancer,

AIDS,

and a neurological disease

to be named after me when I die.

That almost sounded bullying.

That was like...

You're like, "Ha-ha-ha,

you're gonna die."

No...

I was just watching

TV on Tuesday

and my hand fucking

jumped and I was like,

"Well, that's it.

"It's the beginning of the end.

I should probably Google

'right-to-die states.'"

Yeah, but I've been

a hypochondriac

for, like, about 20 years,

and several times

throughout those years

I've had thoughts of suicide,

and then immediately

I'm like, "Dude,

you can't be both.

You can't be

a suicidal hypochondriac."

Just walking around like,

"I'm gonna fucking end it!

"But I also have this pain.

"It only goes right to left

and never left to right,

"usually when I'm sitting.

I'm gonna figure that out,

then it's fucking curtains!"

Also shout-out to the guy

that loves suicide.

What a-- what a fucking

limited fanbase.

He's like,

"I fucking love suicide."

"Goddammit, our numbers

keep dropping.

It turns out these people

that love it, fucking do it."

I think you should joke around

about everything in your life.

I think you should

joke around about the stuff

that actually legitimately

makes you sad.

My grandmother's 92 years old,

she's my favorite person

on the planet.

I love her more than anybody.

She lives in San Francisco,

I live in New York.

I worry about this woman

daily, if not hourly.

Now, do I have a joke

about murdering her?

Yeah.

I think it's weird

if you don't think about

killing your older

family members.

They have soft bones,

they're easily tricked.

They have stuff

that's almost yours.

One slip in the shower,

you get a piano.

That's a fucking deal.

Whenever I visit my grandma

I pull up her bath mat like...

"About to get me a Steinway."

Just get that shower gel

out like...

For those of you

not laughing at that joke,

I told my grandma that joke

and she laughed,

and then she goes,

"You're not getting the piano."

Yeah.

"Fucking sweet burn, Nana.

Sweet ass burn."

No, man, she's my

only family member left

on my dad's side.

I'm her only grandchild,

so every year for Thanksgiving

it's just the two of us.

Just sit there and eat.

I know, it's pretty sad.

It's pretty fucking bleak

just eating turkey

and staring at each other like

we're two old settlers.

"How's your bird?"

"Dry.

It's a dry bird."

No, last year was

the first year it actually

kind of got sad.

I was visiting her,

I was sitting on the couch.

We were having a conversation.

I got up to get

a glass of water.

Right when I get

to the kitchen,

from the couch

I hear my grandmother just go,

"Dan? What's gluten?"

You sweet angel.

I think it's time

for you to cross over.

Dude, I'm not fucking

telling her what gluten is.

Are you crazy?

That woman was born in 1927

in Muskogee, Oklahoma,

then was forced to move

to San Francisco

because of the Dust Bowl.

She's a fucking

Steinbeck character.

You want me to tell her

what a food allergy is?

Do you know how disrespectful

that would look?

This woman waited

in a bread line

until she was nine,

and you want me

to be like, "Nana...

"now we have

so much bread...

"in such abundance,

"that certain

little kids eat it

and their tummies get itchy."

I'd rather walk over

to that couch

and put my hand

over her mouth like,

"Just go, Nana. Just go.

"Gluten is German for goodbye.

"Fucking die.

Just fucking die." Yeah.

Also there's no way

I could kill her like that.

If I even went for that,

she would just bend

my wrist and be like,

"I'm from a time when

men hit women like men."

"Oh, goddammit,

70 years of crosswords

has given you

a falcon-like grip."

'Cause she's tough as shit.

My grandma is tough

as hell, 92 years old,

loves boxing.

Sweet and unsettling.

I called her during

the Triple G, Canelo rematch.

I didn't know the fight

was going on,

and she just picked up

and went,

"I'm watching the fight!"

And hung up.

Is there a gambling problem

I don't know about?

No, I love boxing, though.

I do love boxing.

Strawweights are my favorite.

Those are the best.

Those are, like, the

90, 100-pound guys.

They just beat the shit

out of each other,

but they're so little.

The little hands can't

knock each other out.

It's like watching

squirrels fight.

It's the fucking best,

I fucking love it.

I love it.

My favorite's when they

have translators in the ring

after the fight to

interview the tiny men.

Does not matter

the nationality.

They'll get in there like,

"You had him in trouble

in the seventh round.

When did you think

the fight might be over?"

And then the translator

steps in and he's like,

"My hands are

weapons from God.

I destroy everything I touch."

You're like, "That's what

that little-assed voice

is saying?"

"His family is lucky

I let him leave alive.

I am the angel of death,

all praise be to Jesus Christ."

I love professional wrestling,

love professional wrestling.

Get a lot of shit talked

to me because of it.

A lot of people comfortable

calling me a fucking idiot.

They find out you like

wrestling and they're like,

"You're 36.

You're a fucking idiot."

But I don't think so,

I just like something

you don't like.

I like being a wrestling fan.

I think I look

at the world different.

Politics, mostly wrestling.

Donald Trump Ric Flair'ed

his way into the White House,

and no one but wrestling fans

saw what was happening.

Everyone's like,

"What is he doing?"

"I think he's going full

Horseman Flair right now."

We've got to get a good

Dusty Rhodes in there.

Get someone for the people.

Yeah, I watched that--

watched that

Leaving Neverland documentary.

Tough watch, tough watch.

I thought it was weird though

that that documentary came out,

and then immediately after it

came out there's a small group

of people that were like,

"There is no way that happened."

Like, "No way

that happened?"

I don't know, dude.

As a guy that grew up

a wrestling fan without a dad

and desperately

wants to be liked,

I watched that entire

documentary like,

"Hulk Hogan could've

had this ass."

I mean, I was like 10 years,

I was prime for the picking.

Are you kidding me?

If he would've came through

Denver and been like,

"What's your name,

little brother?"

I would've tore off my jeans

like one of his shirts.

"Get in there Hulkster,

drop the leg!

"What you gonna do,

Hulk Hogan,

when Dan Soder

doesn't tell on you?"

Don't get weird.

You can enjoy the joke.

You can laugh.

I'm the victim in the joke.

I am the willing victim,

the little power bottom

that would've had front-row

tickets to WrestleMania IX.

That's right

before he jumped to WCW,

learn your history.

No, I mean, it was only--

I always want to apologize

to my mom after that joke.

I feel like my mom

worked way too hard

for me to go

around the world, like,

"I would let

Hulk Hogan buttfuck me."

"That's not why

I tried so hard, Daniel."

My mom just

turned 71 years old.

I went out to visit her

for her birthday.

- It was great, man.

- Yeah, one person.

Yeah, dude.

It was weird,

I went to celebrate

my mom's birthday

and then I told

one of my friends

you know, she turned 71

and he was like,

"Oh, she's getting up there."

I don't think that's old.

I don't think 71--

I do not think 71

is old in 2019.

I think it's old enough

that you know for a fact

she didn't know

what the Internet was

for, like, five years.

Everyone over 60

just got blindsided

when the Internet dropped.

I'm talking about

that's over 60 now.

Like, the Internet came out

and they're like,

"What the fuck?"

They're still catching up.

They're like, "I have an iPad."

You're like,

"All right, nice try."

My mom is like,

"My phone connects

to my laptop."

It's like,

"It's fucking supposed to.

It's supposed to do that."

The Internet came out

when I was 13 years old.

That's when it

came into my life,

the perfect age,

the perfect age.

Are you fucking kidding me?

Thirteen years old,

I was born at the crosshairs

of the Internet and puberty.

Legitimately for the first

three months of the Internet,

I thought I manifested it...

...with my horny

13-year-old brain.

I was, "All the boobs

in the world into one box!"

Then my mom came home from

Circuit City and she's like,

"I've got a computer and

it's got America Online on it."

I was like, "Ooh,

dog will hunt."

Young millennials

might not remember,

but the Internet used

to come in the mail.

Like, that's how

you got the Internet.

Like, I remember my mom

holding up a CD being, like,

"What am I gonna do with

500 hours of America Online?"

And you're like,

"Let me see that real quick."

13-year-old me was like,

"Yeah, yeah, yeah,

right here. Come on.

Going through

some real changes, lady."

If you learned

how to masturbate

during the dial-up age,

you have a doctorate

in patience.

'Cause they'd be like,

"You know there's naked

people on there?"

And like, "Where?"

And it's like...

And you're like, "Oh, oh!"

"You've got mail."

"Go, go, go, go, go."

If you whisper,

"You've got mail" into my ear,

I will come fast.

I'm Pavlovian trained.

If you're like,

"You've got mail."

I'm like, "Fuck, I'm sorry.

I'm so sorry

I've got so much mail."

I remember my mom--

I remember I was at home alone,

my mom was at work.

I was home alone, got bored,

you know, got horny,

got greedy,

as most

horny men tend to get.

And I remember being like,

"Why am I dealing

with this dial-up bullshit?

"Why don't I go online,

print a picture out?

I can J-O to this thing

until I'm 30."

I remember having

that idea and being like,

"Am I the smartest

little boy of all time?"

It's like, "I'm on some

Doogie Howser shit right now."

I still remember

the picture to this day,

that's how much time I put in.

I still remember it.

It was a beautiful naked woman.

She was standing outside,

very happy to be outside.

She was smiling ear to ear

and she was pouring

a giant jug of milk on her body.

Don't fucking judge me!

I know a judgment silence

when I hear one. You guys are--

Worst case scenario

I got a milk fetish,

worst case scenario.

If that is the case, guess

who's got some strong-ass bones.

This calcium-filled weirdo.

But I saw that picture,

I was like,

"I love this woman. Print."

It was 1996.

I was raised by a single mom

on a real tight budget

so our printer wasn't the best.

It was one of those

printers where you hit Print,

it's like...

And then it'd hit that

blank spot and be like...

I didn't give a fuck.

I was standing over it like,

"Yes, come to life,

my queen!"

Then I heard the noise

that no 13-year-old boy

with a boner wants to hear,

that garage door open up.

Yeah, 'cause

you don't hear it at first.

And then it's like...

you're like,

"Fuck! Abort! Abort!"

I turned off the computer,

rip the paper

out of the printer

like a fucking

government document,

turned off the power strip

and ran downstairs

with awkward

13-year-old-with-a-boner energy.

I didn't know how

to hold it, you know?

Like, now I'm in my 30s,

I know you put it

in your pant lining

and you walk around

like you played football

in the '70s.

You're just like,

"Ow, ow, ow, ow."

But 13, I was

just like, "Fuck."

My mom immediately

walks in and she's like,

"What's up?

Why are you being weird?"

I was like this,

"I learned a lot

in school today."

That was it, you know?

My mom hung out.

About 10 minutes later,

out of nowhere,

my mom makes herself

a drink and she's like,

"All right, I'm gonna

go play Tetris."

Thought nothing of it.

I was like, "Go get 'em, Trish.

Line that shit up."

Yeah, all I hear

is my mom walk into the room

with the computer.

I hear her put her drink down,

then I just hear

the click of the power strip,

then I hear...

I'm like, "No, I killed you!

You're dead!"

It's like...

I'm downstairs having

a full-on fucking meltdown.

I'm like, "I can't

live here anymore.

This lady knows what I'm into."

My mom comes downstairs furious,

holding a picture

of a naked woman

dumping milk all over herself,

no forehead, gone.

It's clean off.

She just shows me the picture

and she just goes,

"What the fuck is this?"

It's '96, Internet is

maybe three years old.

She showed me that picture,

I was like...

"I think you got a virus."

That's it.

That's all it took.

It's all it took,

there wasn't one

follow-up question.

My mom was like,

"I'm gonna call

Circuit City."

I was like, "Yeah,

those fucking perverts!"

Guess who dug that picture up

out of the trash an hour later

like a horny little raccoon?

First time I ever told

that story, I was in Denver

and I didn't know

my mom was in the crowd.

And the next day

we got lunch and she was like,

"You know, I remember that."

And I was like, "What?

How do you remember that?"

And she's like,

"You don't forget when

you come home from work,

"and the son

you're raising by yourself

is printing out pornography."

I was like, "Yeah,

but, you know,

I told you it was a virus

and you believed it."

And she was like, "Yeah,

and I let you believe

that I believed it."

Which blew me away.

I was like, "Why didn't

you just yell at me?

Why didn't you, you know?

Why didn't I get in trouble?"

And she's like,

"Do you think

I'm gonna yell at a boy

"printing out pornography

when I'm raising you

"without a fatherly figure?

You're gonna end up

choking hookers in your 30s."

That's when I realized

how great of a mom I had.

She let me think

I outsmarted her.

But it also makes sense

why every night before dinner

my mom was always like,

"Let me guess, you want milk?"

You guys were a lot of fun.

Thank you very much.

Thanks a lot.

God bless. See you later, guys.

Thank you.

Dan: Thank you!

♪ Just live till you die ♪

♪ I wanna drown ♪

♪ With nowhere to fall ♪

♪ Into the arms of someone ♪

♪ There's nothin'

to say that I know ♪

♪ You live till you die ♪

♪ Live till you die,

I know ♪

♪ Live till you die,

I know ♪

♪ Live till you die,

I know ♪

♪ Live till you die ♪

♪ Live till you die,

I know ♪

♪ Live till you die ♪