Jordan Cerminara "Cuttin It Up" (full stand-up special)

Hey, I'm Jordan Sermonara. As far back as I can remember, my desire for your attention has been superhuman. Get the laugh at any cost. Think my parents were proud? Shortly after college, I shoved everything I had in my beautiful 2004 Honda Civic and set out to hit it big in the most expensive city I could have chosen, San Francisco, California. I was getting on stage, making art, and started running a successful show with my best friend. Then my life turned completely to shit, and I found myself stranded in the Pacific Northwest. So I drove around the entire country, searching for something that eventually led me here. A place that will change everything. An old movie theater in Spokane, Washington. Please laugh. Thank you so much for being here, y'all. This is amazing. Oh my goodness. Give it up one time for yourselves for showing up to this thing. Come on. Make some noise if you saw me on the corner this week with my sign. Okay, okay. It worked. There's a lot of people driving in their car in Spokane just crying. I saw no less than 20 people over the last four days just sobbing, and I was like, oh my god. I don't want to. No, you don't need a comedy show. You need to be alone. Be alone. I took the bus here from Portland. I usually drive to all of my gigs, but I took the bus here from the Portland bus station, which is a place that exists. It is. And then I arrived at the Spokane bus station. Wow. I've lived in San Francisco and Portland, and I have never seen someone that was underneath a blanket crouched down smoking a cigarette. Also trying to take a shit, you know, he was trying to move things along, you know. You can't blame him too much. I miss my car. I wish I would have drove here. I drive a 2004 Honda Civic since 2008, which means that I have CDs from when I was a child. Yeah. Is there anybody, big early 2000s rap fans in here? Listening to the Big Timers CD recently. Birdman, Manny Fresh, they used to have Lil Wayne come in, do some verses, you know, do the hooks. Favorite song, number one stunner. If y'all don't know what a stunner is, that's somebody who stunts hard. And in this track, Lil Wayne comes in, does the hook, he says, James Bond, Jackie Chan, and that bitch MacGyver, Private Plains, Jaguars, Bentleys, and Prowlers, I'm the number one stunner. Wah, wah, wah, wah. Could you imagine being the actor that played MacGyver for eight seasons on nationally syndicated television, a bona fide superstar being all but irrelevant in the year 2000, getting a call from his press agent being like, hey, what's up, MacGyver? Long time no talk. Cool news, weird news. Some really awesome rapper guys name dropped you in a song with the likes of James Bond and Jackie Chan. Weird news, they did refer to you as that bitch. Kind of a dork across the board. In my spare time, I make analog collage art, if you don't know what that is, that means I take old magazines like Life and National Geographic and I cut out disparate images and rearrange them into funny little pictures that make me laugh. Because I cannot afford therapy. With that said, any time I need some space to myself, don't want to be bothered, I know no one will disturb me in the men's bathroom at Joanne Fabrics and Crafts. I've never actually seen another human being in the men's bathroom at Joanne Fabrics and Crafts. I have a hard time at this point accessing my masculinity, mostly because I live in Portland, it's illegal there now. I do think we need to give the elder millennials a little bit of a break in the toxic masculinity conversation because the types of things that were being shown to me about what it meant to be a man as a young boy, very confusing. All of my fellow boy buddies when I was a kid, they made it uncomfortably clear to me that it was no longer acceptable to have a stuffed animal. While simultaneously, it was actually considered cool to own a pillow that was shaped like a WWF wrestler. I confront my friend about it, I'd be like, that's just a stuffed animal, right? He's like, no, it's a half-naked dude that I spoon while I sleep. And that kid was wild, man. He was so aggressive, he would get real hateful with his mom before bedtime when I'd stay over at his house, you know? Start yelling at her, like, listen up, mother, tonight, I'm going to bed with the macho man. And you ain't got to worry about nothing, mother, because this ain't no sissy stuffed animal, you can tell by his nipples, ooh, yeah. From the top bunk, poof. Hated him. Did not like being at his house. It's a pretty wild time, man. You guys like the 90s? Did you have fun then? Any of you not alive in the 90s? You're going to hate these jokes. Prepare to get lost. The 90s was a wild time. Let me paint you a picture. I believe the 90s was the golden era of toys. The toys were good, but they weren't as good as the commercials would have led you to believe that they were. Case in point, a game called Crossfire. If you don't remember Crossfire, it was a failed game from the 70s that was rebranded, and repackaged in the 90s with a wild, out-of-control, over-the-top production commercial. The game itself, Crossfire, just an ovoid board, where two people sit across from each other firing semi-automatic steel ball bearing guns at what we now call fidget spinners. The whole point of the game was to hit enough of these steel ball bearings into the fidget spinner to make it go into the other person's goal. Crossfire. However, in the commercial, we are in a Mad Max dystopian future where two punk-ass kids wearing leather jackets with fingerless gloves come sky surfing in on big old fidget spinners, jump cuts to them playing Crossfire in an arena of 100,000 people during a lightning storm. And then the song kicks in. Crossfire, you'll get caught up in the Crossfire, you'll get caught up in the Crossfire, Crossfire, Crossfire, steel ball bearing action, Crossfire. Goal goes in, this kid gets shot off into space. He's gone now. Smash zoom on the other kid just screaming into the camera like a maniac. Yeah, yeah, Crossfire, you'll get caught up in it. As a prepubescent adolescent in the 90s, you'll want to play. But then you get Crossfire and you invite a good friend to join you and you both must sit across from each other and endure the underwhelming reality. That is, Crossfire, you'll get caught up in the Crossfire. Oh, look, I scored. Crossfire. And just like in the commercial, you never see your friend again. Not the worst toy of the 90s, I will be honest with you. That award has to go to Furby. You don't remember Furby? A dumb egg-shaped bird covered in fur, blinked on a timer, had a little sensor in the middle of its head so when you walked by it in any room, say some stupid shit like, Hungry. And then you put your finger on its tongue and it was sated. It'd be like, Nyam. I hated that thing. I did not want anything to do with Furby. I was too old for that. I was 12, but my sister was 6. And the reason that I have such a core memory with Furby is that it came into my family unit at a very tender time. My stepdad was still just my mom's boyfriend. And the way that he handled the night that Furby died was a sure sign that like, This dude's got what it takes to lead the pack. One in the morning on a random weekday, Furby's last word is, Party! It won't stop. My sister is terrified, screaming bloody murder. I am the first to report on the scene. I open the door, flip on the light. She's up against the wall like she's in a horror movie. She's like, Furby! No! And that thing's annoying and that thing's annoying. I'm having the time of my life. There's absolutely no way that I'm going to be the person to stop this amazing event. But you know who will? It's that no-nonsense farmer that my mom's dating in the other room who's got to be up for work in a couple hours. Dude comes rolling in. No corrective lenses. Blind as a bat. Just a pair of tighty-whities. Hung. You're like, did you see mom's boyfriend? That's nuts. Immediately takes control. Swoops Furby up off my sister's dresser, goes to the middle of the room and starts smashing it until there's silence. And without skipping a beat, he looks over this pile of blinking, fuzzy electronics and he says, Party's over. I was like, Mom, marry that guy! I've been chasing masculinity like that ever since. All right. A little smoke and mirrors here, guys. I've got a dangling mic thing happening out of my ass right now. Don't worry, I won't take my panties off, okay? I'm just going to shove this back in my ass. All right. Beautiful. It's pretty wild that Furby was the first time that as a society we all decided to let robots in the house. Like, we got the Alexas and stuff now, but the Furby was the first one. And I am worried about the robots. Are y'all worried about the robots? Make some noise if you're worried about the robots. I'm worried about the robots because of where I see things heading. I heard that by the year 2040, they predict that one in two people will regularly be having sex with a robot as their primary partner. A couple folks in Spokane already there. It's a wild concept to me. I think it's a huge step backward for humankind because I can still remember when socially doing the robot just meant that you weren't going to get laid, and now we're just full-on blasting in bots. You know, that's... I feel like they spent a pretty significant amount of time convincing us how important it was to not get our electronics wet. I feel like that's how one in two people are going to die in the year 2040. Robots are going to be like, Do you like that? Be easy. Have sex with people. They still need it. Just have sex with yourself. Ladies, you guys have been ******* robots for a long time, so we'll be... You guys got it figured out. I'm not worried about y'all. That's how we're going to get rid of all the men. They just won't stop coming in robots. You guys will have a utopia for, you know, 60 years, and then everybody will be dead, right? No more humans. It won't be the asteroid or the climate change. It's that. It's pretty wild. I feel like they're preparing this younger generation for things like having sex with robots through the use of virtual reality. Don't know if you guys are familiar with that medium. Virtual reality, in my opinion, is dangerous and out of control. I only say that because it was developed by an entire generation of people that were continually told to stop sitting so close to the TV. And their response was, Well, now we're strapping it to our head, Mom! I think the thing that they aren't quite aware of that's feeding into this is that the pornography in virtual reality, it's immersive, but it is not interactive. Ladies, if you think that men are bad at sex now, give this next generation another 10 years of their only reference point to sexual intercourse being perceptibly leering over the shoulder of somebody else that's handily plowing. And then they have the agency to turn around and see how the room was decorated. You know? No one is coming in the future. Like, it is... Steady population decline due to virtual reality is upon us, for sure. Dorks. When I was in my late 20s, I got into a relationship with a woman in San Francisco, California that I would explain on the spectrum of kink as extremely kinky. And I am from Kansas. Yeah. Only no missionary, like my uncle taught me. I knew Spokane would... The old Spokanes. Y'all know what's up with unks. Spokanesis. That's what they... Same thing. Okay, sorry. It's pretty wild, though. You know, when you get into the heat of the moment with somebody who's got a laundry list of kinks, they start rattling off like it's a grocery list. It can be very overwhelming, especially for an old vanilla boy like me. She's like, pull my hair, choke me, put a finger down my throat, put a finger in my butt. I was like, Jesus, all at the same time? Like... I look like some kind of Hindu god? Like, what do you want from me? You know, but then I remember where I came from. You know, I grew up in the 90s. I take direction well. I had to bop it. Choke it. Pull it. Poke it. All right. Spokane. All right. Pretty wild stuff, man. Anybody ever been in a relationship with somebody that's so sexual you feared for your general health? Few people in this room. That was my reality for a while. It was wild. We got into a full-blown argument one time because I didn't want roadhead. Laugh it up, Spokane. She was like, what kind of guy doesn't want roadhead? I was like, it's dangerous. She's like, what's so dangerous about it? I was like, you're driving. Terrified every moment of my life with you. Did you guys imagine that? Trying to get a blowy from the driver? Can I do it? Want to go there with me? Let's do it. Slow down. No, not me. Not me. The car. Speed up. We're merging. We're merging. Last time I really tried with that kinky gal, I suggested that we role play. She was like, what do you want to do? I said, let's go to this bar and act like we never met each other before. Start all over again. She was like, I can get into that. It started out really good. I was at one end of the bar getting a drink and she was at the other end of the bar walking out with another guy. I tried to catch up to her. I was like, excuse me miss, you forgot something? She pepper sprayed me. Method actress that one. Never saw her again. Couldn't see for a couple days. It was hard. I do appreciate the time I spent with that person though. Saw some things that I would never see otherwise. We went to an inordinate amount of sex shops. My favorite thing about sex shops is that you'll always see something you can't unsee. For me, that was a device that I saw where you could actually keep the ashes of your deceased loved one contained within. Like a dildo urn. A dildurn, if you will. As I was standing there looking at it, I thought to myself, wow. At no point in American history has it been easier to feel dead inside. I wasn't supposed to turn out like this. I won the dare medal in sixth grade. Yeah. I wrote the best essay in my entire class about why I was drug free. I assume it was because I was 11. Just didn't know enough people yet, you know? I have absolutely no clue what that essay said. I have smoked those memories away. But I do remember the letter I received as a reward from then President Bill Clinton. My mom was super stoked about it. We read it out loud together in the living room and said, hey, buddy. It's me. President Bill Clinton. I just want to congratulate you on being an outstanding American student while you were out there resisting the urge to get blown. Well, little buddy, I wasn't. He's a pervert. I did cut back on my marijuana usage this year just because, I don't know, I didn't want to. I just couldn't stop seeing all these damn studies they're doing about it. What are they doing? Why do they keep doing government funded studies on marijuana? We figured it out. It's pretty wild. I saw this one study that said it was a 40 year study. 40 years they took to get this study where they found that people who smoke marijuana habitually, they're actually worse at their jobs than other people. Yeah. They figured that out because that study was supposed to take two weeks. It was supposed to be an in and out job. One of those scientists got caught up at 7-Eleven like, I don't know, man, I think we need some more government funding. So ridiculous. I didn't find out how wild the weed had gotten until I moved to the West Coast. I did some shows out in Humboldt County, California. You guys ever been to NorCal? You know Humboldt? We know what they're doing down there. Meth. Stinky. Pee-wee. It's a huge weed growing capital in this country. I realized how much it permeated the general culture there when I watched a little boy defiantly stand up to his father in a co-op grocery store. And he said, Dad, I don't want to be a pot farmer. And the whole place fell silent. And then that dude had to handle that stuff, you know, no stems, no seeds. Let's go. Broke it down for his little bud like, listen man, you're gonna be a pot farmer because my father was a pot farmer and your father, who's currently me, is a pot farmer and I didn't break my back in those fields for 20 years. 420. Oh, 420! Bud, we gotta go. Come on. Bring your bong. Let's go. You guys are letting me get away with a lot of stupid shit. Was it worth the sign? Oh, good. That's the most I've worked in like ******* three years. That was hard. So many of you guys were just like straight forward like he's ******* not getting a dime out of me. They're all for me! Every last penny! Don't get the **** away from my car! That was hard. I, uh, took me a while to get here. I had kind of a rough go a little while back. March 13th, 2020. I was dishonorably discharged from the service industry. Bartending and waiting tables for 15 years. They kicked me to the curb like, sorry buddy, we need somebody with a bright shining personality to run to go. It ain't you. It felt so bad, you know? Then I signed up for California unemployment and I made more money than I've ever made in my life. That was a pretty incredible time. Very fond of those days. But I haven't missed it. I haven't had to, I've made it work. I figured it out. I figured out how to make comedy work for me. I haven't had to do any of that stuff. And it's been great. I don't miss it at all. Because my last five years of my service career, I was stationed in San Francisco. Don't know if you know anything about the people in San Francisco. But they're actually the least deserving of food. Yeah. They're pieces of shit. All that money and no manners. Like, come on, you know? And the one thing that I really don't miss, my general PTSD from working out there, was that people out there breastfeed their children for way too long. They got nothing wrong with public breastfeeding. Baby's gotta eat and the mother should be able to do it wherever she chooses. It's just that they feed their kids for way too long. And I'm not talking about the duration of said feeding. I'm talking about the age of said children. Young man. Too old to be breastfeeding off of three simple observations came into the last brunch I ever worked. Observation number one. Open the door for himself. That's a big boy. Observation number two. Undid his mother's bra. Yeah, that's an advanced move. I am 37 years old and I still struggle with that. That is... And observation number three. They had a conversation while he was feeding. That's where I checked out. She said, ow, that hurts mommy's nipple when you do that. And he said, I'm sorry, I forgot to shave. Um... Wasn't the hardest thing that I dealt with either. Like right after I lost my job, I split up with someone that I spent the most time of my adult life with. It was a four year relationship that ended after we moved to Portland together. Six months later, we split up. And there I was. No job. Essentially nowhere to live. My 2004 Honda Civic. She's beautiful. I arbitrarily made the decision to drive across the entire country after that. I drove across the lower 48 states. I did it in 26,000 miles. And I had a really beautiful trip. And I think it's important to do something like that when you go through a hard thing to figure out what went wrong so you don't find yourself repeating the same patterns and end up where you started. You know what I'm saying? And when I was out there and I was driving across this beautiful country, I realized with that particular relationship, the one thing that really hurt me was that I never really felt heard. Alright? She would listen to me talk about anything. Aliens. Bigfoot. Ghosts. Paranormal shit. But anytime I brought up the Illuminati, it was her kryptonite. She wanted nothing to do with it. It was an immediate snooze fest for her. Broke my heart. Okay? You ever get on YouTube, type in the Illuminati? Then like three days later, you're like, oh shit. Thirteen families run the entire world. Our government's been usurped by a reptilian race. And no one can stop the New World Order. We're talking about it, alright? I need to talk to someone about this. Every time I brought it up, lights out. So upsetting. Because there were things about her that I did not like. And I didn't just act like they weren't part of her personality and, you know, ignore them and act like, you know, I don't want to deal with that. I accepted her for who she was and I loved her accordingly. For instance, every night I slept next to this woman for four years, somewhere between the hours of 2 a.m. and 5 a.m. Night terrors. You don't get used to waking up from a dead sleep to a blood curdling scream. And every time it happened, what did I do? Oh, I don't want to ******* deal with it. I'm going back to bed. No. Every time I saw her in that moment of panic and vulnerability, trying to figure out where she was, I gave her exactly what she needed. I pulled her super close. Always comfort her. Start stroking her hair a little bit. I'd be like, baby, it's okay. It's okay. Remember, 13 families run the entire world. Our government's been usurped by a reptilian race. And no one can stop the New World Order. Boyfriend of the year, baby. It was a transformational trip that I took across the country. I went to 26 national parks in one go. Beautiful. Beautiful. I learned that I hate hiking. Yeah. Only took 26 of them to figure it out. As soon as I got out there, first park I went to, poison oak all over my body. I'd never seen it before. I don't know if you guys can tell by looking at me, but I do not have health insurance. And I got really lucky when I was coming through the middle of the country. One of my good friends from high school in Wichita, Kansas, he now is a nurse practitioner. He has a PhD in nursing. He can write prescriptions. And he helped me out in a big way. He wrote me a prescription for prednisone. Just a basic steroid in this thing that was really messing up my skin. Gone in a few days. Wild, because I remember him trying to trick me into showing me his nuts on the bus every day. I don't know if that's the guy who should be writing prescriptions. But I am super grateful he exists. If you are ever walking through a national park and you see someone by themselves, be nice to them. They're going through something. You know? Because there's always like these moments when I found myself feeling negative and I didn't want to infect anybody's day with my bad energy. Right? And I got really good at my acting. I assumed the role of the happy hiker. Because I didn't want to be a bummer out there. You know? I realized how good I got at faking it when I saw a father and a son walking right towards me in Yellowstone National Park. Picturesque scene, right? I was looking at him like, man, this guy knows his dad. No, no, no, no, no, no, no. No, no, I'm going to give them the best one they've ever gotten. Here it comes, here it comes. Hey, how you doing? Pretty disarming out there. He's like, I'm pretty good. How are you? I was like, oh, I'm doing great. It's so beautiful back there. I hope you guys enjoy your hike. He's like, thanks, man. I'll see you later. And as I walked past him, I heard his little boy go, dad, who was that? And his dad was like, that was just a guy having a really good day. No! I came face to face with a black bear in a national park, and I didn't even get scared. It was looking at me. I was looking at it. And that bear could smell the pathetic depression on me. It was like, ugh. I don't want any of that tainted meat. I'm going to go eat some ******* berries or something, you loser. Slowly walked away. Which was wild, man, because I was sitting there like, holy shit, a thousand pound beast that could have torn me from limb to limb. I didn't even have a fear response. I had no clue why or how. And then 20 minutes later as the sun was aggressively setting and I realized I had no clue where I was, I passed a grouse's nest. Y'all know what a grouse is? It's like a tiny turkey. It is not an intimidating bird. But when it has babies in its nest, it'll get pretty wild. It came at me with its wings cocked back full tilt and was like, get the **** away from my babies! I started sprinting for the first time in 15 years for 30 minutes. Because every time I looked back it was like, keep going, bitch! Fear was pinging off like crazy. And until I gathered myself again after running about two miles because it wouldn't stop, I realized that fear is based on the story that'll go back home. Hey, did you hear about Jordan? He got eaten by a bear. Pretty cool story. Hey, did you hear about Jordan? He got his calf pecked out by a grouse. Bled out and died from exposure. I started out that trip in a really sad place and I decided to be inauthentic from the beginning of this trip. I decided that I was going to cross every state border and take a little welcome to wherever picture, right? Hey, I'm not gonna kill myself. Post it on Instagram. That was the whole bit, right? 22 states in, I get to Rhode Island. I am mentally checked out of the trip and I do not want to be doing it anymore. I'm not paying attention to what's going on and when I open my door, the sheer force of a passing semi blows my door inside out. Closed it. It kind of closed. I better go take that. Welcome to Rhode Island! I get in my car and get back up to highway speed and I immediately started panic googling places to get your door fixed because I know nothing about cars. An auto body shop came up. The only one that was open at 5 o'clock. I was one hour outside of my destination in Providence, Rhode Island. Dino's Auto Care. Open till 7. I called them and I talked to a nice woman and I told her exactly what I just told you. She said, when you get here, we'll see if Dino can help you out. Get you fixed up. Cool. Got there. Walked in. Same nice woman greeted me at the door. She said, hold on. Let me go get Dino. Dino comes out the back looking exactly like you think he looks. He said, you the kid with the door? I was like, yeah, I'm the kid with the door. He said, let's go take a look at it. Tell me what's going on. I was like, well, I'm driving across the lower 48 and he stops me and he goes, lower 48? I was like, yeah, it's all the states except for Alaska and Hawaii. All the states you can get to by not crossing the border or getting on a plane. He says, never heard of it. I was like, oh, okay. Well, I'm driving across the country and he says, what are you doing that for? I was like, well, Dino, to be really honest with you, I'm kind of going through a traumatic breakup right now and I thought that maybe if I drove across the country and when I got home, I might feel better. He said, ugh. Let's go look at your door. He steps out to my beautiful 2004 Honda Civic and he opens the door and he closes the door and he opens the door and he closes the door. And he looks at me and he goes, you broke your stay. Listen, kid, you don't want to do this with me. I do big insurance jobs. Let me do you a favor. Take the number to my friend. Pulls out his business card, flips it to the blank side, and proceeds to write a phone number from memory like a ******* psychopath. And then he says, give my friend a call. Tell him Dino sent you. He'll take care of you. Phew. Low of 48. Jesus. Thanks. Appreciate it, Dino. He says, how old are you, kid? At the time, I was 35. He said, that's okay, kid. I got my first divorce when I was 33. You're going to be okay. I was like, wow. Thank you for putting it into perspective for me, Dino. I guess I did just break up with a lady and I don't have to worry about all the legality of it. Thanks. And then he looked at me again and he was like, low of 48. Alright, Dino. Well, I really appreciate this. I'm going to give this guy a call and I go to get in my car and Dino's walking away and right at the last second he turns to me and he goes, hey, kid. When you get done with your trip, I hope you feel better. I was like, thanks, Dino. And as I was getting into my car, I'll never forget the last thing I heard Dino said. He walked back into his place. He goes, any of you guys ever hear the low of 48? There's this ******* loser outside. Things have gotten back to normal, though. I've gotten back to business. I run a really cool comedy show with my best friend called the Art Critique Comedy Show. We curate thrift store art. We have comedians make fun of it and then we auction it off at the end like, one, can I get a two? One, can I get a two? One, can I get a two? One, can I get a two? Two, can I get a three? Two, can I get a three? That kind of shit. It's a lot of fun. I really enjoy that show and we self-produced a pilot last October. We were producing some shows monthly in Los Angeles and I found out through promoting that show that Los Angeles thought that show was mean. Los Angeles, California, the most vapid ******* place on Earth doesn't like us poking fun at thrift store paintings. So, think about how a thrift store painting ends up where it's at. Somebody convinces themselves like, oh, maybe I'll be an artist and then they go to the store and they buy the cheapest acrylic paint they can find, a canvas, and then they get home and they go, whoops, that was mm-mm. Not for me. And they either take it to the thrift store themselves or they do the horrible thing, the worst thing you could do with a bad piece of art and gift it to someone and then that person has to wait like six years to ******* disappear it at the Goodwill. You know? We're giving this art a second chance. My co-producer is a cartoonist. I make collage art. We don't take ourselves seriously and the only reason that we're picking this thrift store art is because that's the only original art we can afford, right? Believe me, if I could go buy a Picasso, I'd make fun of that ******* idiot, too. Art is so stupid, man. I mean, like, we're told as kids that, like, Picasso was this amazing artist and, like, yeah, he was fine. If you don't know much about Picasso, I don't know how historically accurate this is, but I did Google this pretty thoroughly. Picasso was a piece of shit. He was a ******* womanizer. He used to beat women. He ******* impregnated multiple women and didn't take care of those kids at all. One of his ex-lovers offed herself and wrote a note and said, thanks, Picasso. That's crazy, dude. The dude's a piece of shit. But the only art that I could even get close to affording is something that he made in his last four years of life, alright? $80,000 is about the cheapest Picasso you're gonna get. Just a little picture. Charcoal drawing. Everything in the last four years that he made, this is the most art that he made in any four-year period in his entire life, right? Crude pair of tits on every one of them. Like, the dude never saw a pair. Absolutely insane to me. This guy's hanging out in a ******* airplane hangar with all the supplies and access he could possibly need. Nothing but time. He's got syphilis that he spread through half of Western Europe. His dick's on fire and he's losing his mind. He's just out there Tits! Tits! Tits! Tits! Tits! I can't rest until I get all these tits out of me! And we have to sit here and act like he was awesome. I hate that. Go make something. You can do it. Okay? Fucking get a sign. Go stand out on a corner. You guys make me feel really good about doing this. I've had a really good time. I really love the Pacific Northwest. I've grown to love it a lot. I did have a hard start. The first time that I decided that I was feeling settled in, I was very enamored by the Fred Meyer. Never saw a Fred Meyer before. I get stoked about a grocery chain that I've never seen because I know inside there, there's going to be some chips that I've never had. I fancy myself a bit of a chip aficionado, okay? And the first time I ever walked into Fred Meyer I went right to the chip aisle and I found them. They got Tim's chips. Y'all know Tim's chips? Red and white striped bag. They got a ton of flavors. And that first decision was a hard one, but they made it easy on me. They had a chip called the Sasquatch chips. I was like, man I am a sucker for a gimmick. I chucked those things up real quick. Took them home, ate the whole ******* bag. Best chips I've ever had in my life. Barbecue, vinegar, very crunchy, alright? I was sitting on a couch ******* taking pictures with them like, I love these chips! Just a real sad mid-thirties moment, you know? And the saddest part about it was that that was the last time that I saw the Sasquatch chips. Next time I went back to the grocery store, I'm standing in the chip aisle. I see a grocery clerk close by. I said, excuse me, do you know when you're gonna get the Sasquatch chips back? And he looked at me and he said, what? I was like, oh, the Sasquatch chips. Barbecue, vinegar, very crunchy. They're delicious. And then he looked me dead in the eye and he was like, I'm pretty sure those don't exist. I was like, no sir, I am pretty sure you are wrong. I have definitely enjoyed those. I just pulled out my phone for photographic evidence. And in every one of these pictures, the ******* bag was blurred out. And his manager was coming up to see what was going on. He came up to him and he goes, this guy thinks he saw Sasquatch chips. Manager laughs out loud, has to walk away. Then he goes off and I hear somebody else laugh. And then a verifiable tittering amongst the employees that Fred Myers starts going through the whole store like a wildfire. I got laughed out of the grocery store closest to my house. I was so defeated. I went back home and I sat on the couch where I once consumed the Sasquatch chips. Lo and behold, stuck in between the cushion. I would recognize that flavor profile anywhere. Irrefutable proof, I had it. So what did I do? I put it in a plastic bag. I took it up to Tim's corporate office. I walked in the lobby and I said, We want the truth about the Sasquatch chips! And it turns out, they are seasonal. I am no longer allowed at Tim's corporate office or the Fred Meyer closest to my home. Y'all, I can't impress upon you how grateful I am for everybody who have come out this evening and seen me do this stupid ass shit. Spokane, you're wonderful. Thank you so much. So I'm going to the liquor store and it's only for some smokes. The brown paper bag go to 40's. Grab a little something for the hoes. Cool the snow, quote unquote. I know the world slows so on and so forth. I want to feel soft clouds of smoke in the nostrils when I breathe. In or out, curl my fingers up like elves to the trees. Can you hook me up? Know you remember the name. I get high. Clothes I won't tell why. Get pies in the sky.