Tuesday, August 10, 2004

Excerpts from one of my favorite standup performances - Denis Leary: No Cure For Cancer

I don't do illegal drugs anymore. Now I just do the legal drugs. Tonight I'm on NyQuil and Sudafed. Let me tell you something, folks. Forget about cocaine and heroine. All you need is NyQuil and Sudafed. I'm telling you right now, I took the NyQuil five years ago. I just came out of the coma tonight before the fucking show! Claus Vanbulo was standing over my bed going, "Denis, get up! There's something the matter with Sunny! Hurry up!" I love NyQuil. Man, I love it! I love it. I love it. I love it. It's the best thing shit ever invented. Isn't it, huh? I love the name alone. NyQuil - Capitol N, small Y, big fucking Q! I love that fucking Q, don't you!? What a great advertising idea! Put a huge fucking Q on the box. They'll get high and stare at it. "The Q is talking to me! The Q is talking to me!"

I love NyQuil, man. Because NyQuil has never changed, man. It's never changed. All the other medicines are doing that inner-child thing. "we know that there's a small child inside of you, so now we have grape and cherry and orange flavor." Not NyQuil! They still have the original green death fucking flavor! You know why!? Because it doesn't matter what it tastes like! It's so strong you go, "*wheeze* Hey this stuff really tastes like.." Bang! Yer in the coma already! "What happened?" "He said tastes like and he went right into the coma, it was unbelievable!" We have reached the point where the over the counter drugs are actually stronger than anything you can buy on the street. It says on the back of the NyQuil box, on the back of the box it says, "May cause drowsiness." It should say, "Don't make any fucking plans! Kiss your family and friends goodbye. Say hello to Klaus!" NyQuil, NyQuil, NyQuil, we love you! You giant fucking Q!

NyQuil is the secret for all you twelve step recovery program people. Yes, all you AA people, NyQuil is the key! It's the thirteenth fucking step! You can drink it! It's over the counter! Drink as much as you want. "Are you drunk?" "No! I have a cold. Same cold I've had for two years. I just can't seem to shake it. I'm high as a kite and my teeth are green. Merry fucking Christmas!"

We did it all. Cocaine? We started that. You're welcome! What a great drug that was. Yeah, I'd like to do some cocaine. I'd like to do a drug that makes my penis small, makes my nose bleed, makes my heart explode, and sucks all my money out of the bank. Is that possible please!? I'd like to make this face all night! I'd like to sit in the bathroom and talk to a complete asshole stranger for seven hours on end. Is that possible please!? With no penis and a nose bleed! Where do I sign up!? Take my penis away! That was the worst part about the coke, man, was being in that bathroom with that stranger at the end of the night. Wasn't it, huh? Talking about shit like solving the world's problems and the only reason you're in there is because he has the coke. That should have been a fucking sign, don't ya think? I mean if Hitler had coke, there'd be Jews in the bathroom going, "I know you didn't do it. *snort* I like your mustache. *snort* Fucking Himmler! *snort*"

People go, "Well why didn't you go into rehab?" We didn't have rehab back in the seventies. Back in the seventies rehab meant you'd stop doing coke, but you kept smoking pot and drinking for a couple more weeks. You know? "Yeah, give me a case of Budweiser and an ounce. I gotta slow down! Jesus Christ! I'm outta control. Look at the size of my pants for Christ's sake!"

Everybody comes from a dysfunctional family all of the sudden, huh? Rosanne Barr comes from a dysfunctional family? Not Rosanne! She seems so normal to me! The Jacksons were dysfunctional!? Not the Jacksons! These people give each other new heads for Christmas for Christ's sake!

God.. "I'm just not happy. I'm just not happy. I'm just not happy because my life didn't turn out the way I thought it would." Hey! Join the fucking club, ok!? I thought I was going to be the starting center fielder for the Boston Red Socks. Life sucks, get a fucking helmet, allright?! "I'm not happy. I'm not happy." Nobody's happy, ok!? Happiness comes in small doses folks. It's a cigarette, or a chocolate cookie, or a five second orgasm. That's it, ok! You cum, you eat the cookie, you smoke the butt, you go to sleep, you get up in the morning and go to fucking work, ok!? That is it! End of fucking list! "I'm just not happy." Shut the fuck up, allright? That's the name of my new book, "Shut the Fuck Up, by Doctor Denis Leary. A revolutionary new form of therapy." I'm gonna have my patients come in. "Doctor, I.." "Shut the fuck up, next!" "I don't feel so.." "Shut the fuck up, next!" "He made me feel so much better about myself, you know? He just told me to shut the fuck up and nobody had ever told me that before. I feel so much better now."

And I'll tell you something else right now. I have the solution to the drug problem in this country. Nobody wants to hear it, but I have it. Not less drugs, more drugs. Get more drugs, and give 'em the right fucking people. Mmm mm, cuz every time you hear about some famous guy overdosing on drugs, it's always some really talented guy. It's always like Len Bias, or Janis Joplin, or Jimi Hendrix, or John Belushi. You know what I mean!? The people you wanna have overdose on drugs never would! Like Motley Crue would never fucking overdose man, never! You could put them in a room with two tons of crack. They come out a half an hour later, "Rock on man!" "Shit, they're still alive. Fuck! They're probly gonna make another double-live album now, God dammit!"

We live in a country, where John Lennon takes six bullets in the chest, Yoko Ono was standing right next to him and not one fucking bullet! Explain that to me! Explain that to me, God! Explain it to me, God! I want it! God! Jesus! Now we've got twenty-five more years. Yeah, I'm real fucking happy now, God. I'm wearing a huge happy hat, Jesus Christ! I mean Stevie Ray Vaughan is dead, and we can't get Jon Bon Jovi in a helicopter. Come on, folks. "Get on that helicopter John. Shut the fuck up and get on that helicopter! There's a hair dresser in there. Yeah, go ahead in there, yeah yeah."

Let me make sure I'm crystal clear on this issue, ok? Heavy Metal fans are buying Heavy Metal records, taking the records home, listening to the records and then blowing their heads off with shotguns? Where's the problem!? That's an unemployment solution right there, folks! It's called natural selection. It's the bottom of the food chain, ok? I say we put more messages on the records. "Kill the band, kill your parents, then yourself, ok!? Make sure you get your whole head in front of the shotgun. Thank you for calling!"

Let me tell you something. We need a two and a half hour movie about the Doors? Folks, no we don't. I can sum it up for you in five seconds, ok. "I'm drunk. I'm nobody. I'm drunk. I'm famous. I'm drunk. I'm fucking dead." There's the whole movie, ok!? Big fat dead guy in a bath tub, there's your title for you.

All these rock stars should've been killed, man. Every single God damned one of them. Right after Jon Lenin died, we should've gotten the Partridge Family bus and driven around and killed them all one by one, you know? Elvis Presley should have been shot in the head back in 1957. Somebody should've walked up behind Elvis in '57 with a 44 magnum, put the barrel of the gun right up to his brain stem and just pulled the trigger, so you can remember Elvis in a nice way. Wouldn't it be nice to remember Elvis thin, with a big head of hair? Maybe that gold lame gold lame gold lame suit. Wouldn't that be nice? Because how do you remember Elvis? You know how you remember Elvis. He was found in the toilet with his pants around his ankles and his big fat hairy sweaty king of rock and roll ass exposed to the world and his final piece of kingly evidence floating in the toilet behind him! Creepy! One of his aids had to walk in and go, "Damn, Elvis is dead. I'd better flush the toilet. Oh man I should've saved that! I coulda made some money off of that! Damn man! A ding dang do!"

That's why I'm glad Jesus died when he did. Oh yeah. Because if he lived to be 40, he woulda ended up like Elvis, come on! Oh yeah, he had that big enterauge. Twelve guys willing to do whatever he wanted to do. He was famous already at that point. If he lived to be 40, he'd be walking around Jerusalem with a big fat beer gut and black side burns going, "Damn, I'm the son of God. Give me a cheese burger and french fries right now. Where's Mary Magdeline, I want a blow job now. Come on now! Fuck you, or I'll turn you into a leper. Give me a cheese burger now, God dammit. Love me tender, love me true, empty my colostamy bag! Hoo-ah! Hoo-ah! Oh I think I shit my pants on that last hoo-ah. Change my diaper now!"

Know what I'm gonna do? I'm gonna get one of those tracheotomies. So I can smoke two cigarettes at the same time. I'm gonna get nine tracheotomies all the way around my neck. I'll be Tracheotomie Man! "He can smoke a pack at a time! He's Tracheotomie Man!"

Babe Ruth, greatest baseball player to ever play the game. He had a voic box. He was the first American to have a voice box. Yeah! "[VB] This is Babe Ruth, the Sultan of Swat, the Bambino, I smoke twenty-five God damn cuban cigars a day. I had meat for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I fucked eighteen prostitutes a night! 'course, I'm dead now. I'm up here in heaven. Lou Gehrig is up here with me. God love Lou Gehrig. Jesus Christ, poor Lou Gehrig. Died of Lou Gehrig's disease. How the hell did he not see that coming? You know. We used to tell him, Lou, there's a disease with your name all over it, pal! There ain't no Babe Ruth disease, I'll tell you that much right now. Have a hot dog and a Hummer. Go ahead, it's on me."

Because you gotta have goals. Because everybody in this room knows everybody who's quitting. You all have that friend who's quitting it. You know what I mean? The guys quitting it, "I quit smoking. I quit drugs. I quit drinking. I quit meat, and I feel great. I get up in the morning and have a nice big bowl of oat bran. I go to the bathroom for three and a half hours. I have another bowl of oat bran. I go back in the bathroom for six more hours. All I do is eat and shit, I'm gonna live forever! My colon is the strongest muscle in my body right now. I could pass Elvis through my colon right now."
And all these cereals they have, Cracklin' Oat Bran, and Horkin' Fiber Chunks, you know? Cereal used to come with a free prize. Now it comes with a free roll of toilet paper in every box. Guys get up on Sunday morning, "Forget about the New York Times, I'm gonna need the Bible. I got a big one brewing here." "Dad, there's a phone call!" "I'm on Genesis, God dammit! You tell 'em to call back after the creation!" People checking their own feces for fiber. You have too much free fucking time on your hands, ok

Red meat, white meat, blue meat, meat-o-fucking-rama. You will eat it. Because not eating meat is a decision. Eating meat is an instinct! Yeah! And I know what it's about. "I don't want to eat the meat because I love the animals. I love the animals." Hey, I love the animals too. I love my doggy. He's so cute. My fluffy little dog.. He's so cute- There's the problem. We only want to save the cute animals, don't we? Yeah. Why don't we just have animal auditions. Line 'em up one by one and interview them individually. "What are you?" "I'm an otter." "And what do you do?" "I swim around on my back and do cute little human things with my hands." "You're free to go." "And what are you?" "I'm a cow." "Get in the fucking truck, ok pal!" "But I'm an animal." "You're a baseball glove! Get on that truck!" "I'm an animal, I have rights!" "Yeah, here's yer fucking cousin, get on the fucking truck, pal!"

Personally, I think Mama Cass said it best when she said, "[Choking noises]" "All the leaves are [Choking noises]" "Monday [Choking noises]"

If I worked at the post office as a supervisor, I wouldn't lay anybody off for the next twenty-five fucking years. I'd just walk around going, "Hanrahan, what're you doing?" "Nothing." "Well, keep it up, you're doing a great job! Jesus. I'll tell ya."

Hey! I just moved here four years ago, and I'm not leaving, because this is the most exciting place in the world to live. Oh yeah! Yeah! There are so many ways to die in New York City, come on! Race riots, drive by shootings, subway crashes, construction cranes collapsing on the sidewalks, manhole covers blowing up, asbestos shooting into the sky. We had a subway crash here a couple of years ago. Five people died. The next day they found the driver was drunk and hooked on crack. Folks, this makes Disneyland look like a fucking bike ride, doesn't it? "Your drive today is Edward. He's drunk and hooked on crack. The man sitting next to you has a loaded nine-millimeter. Good luck, folks!" "Honey, get the camera! This is gonna be fucking great!"