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July 20, 2018 - Get Off My Lawn - Gavin McInnes

45:57

Get Off My Lawn Podcast #68 | Don't have sex with women in Toronto

In this cockamamie theory episode, I posit the assumption that you need to be at least tangentially associated with the Mediterranean to be good in bed. Girls from Montreal are good lays because they are originally French and the south of France is on the Mediterranean. Girls from Toronto, however, are not even remotely linked to that body of water and despite having kick ass bodies, they do not know what to do with them.

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	Don't have sex with women in Toronto.
	They are bad in bed.
	In fact, there's a great song by, um, the electric chairs called bad in bed and the singer Wayne County went on to become Jane County.
	I bought that record in Toronto.
	So I, and by the way, I don't say, are you fucking kidding me?
	Who is that?
	What are you doing?
	I'm recording a podcast.
	Okay, this is all being recorded right now.
	away from the actual recorder itself because last time I heard some I don't know what it was, like a little phone interference.
	I took it out from the last one.
	Okay, this is all being recorded right now.
	Jesus Christ.
	How's that for irony?
	Fucking sound guy comes in to say get your phone away from the thing and ruins the podcast.
	What's worse?
	Hearing someone come in and interrupt a podcast or some slight phone interference.
	And by the way, maybe tell me that another time, like the second you discover it, The second you discover that there's phone interference, email me and go, Hey Gavin, uh, yo, not for nothing.
	I like ebonic emails.
	Um, I couldn't help but notice if you will, that, uh, you had some slight phone interference when you were conversating on your podcast, yo.
	Why wait until I'm shooting the thing?
	I'm actually doing it.
	Anyway, I don't like when people in Toronto, Ontario call it Trana.
	I'm very adamant about Toronto.
	I'm also adamant about Saturday Night Live.
	It's not sardine lye.
	Sardine lye is a small salty fish that is dishonest with you.
	That's a sardine lye.
	Speaking of sardines, by the way, my brother told me this story the other day.
	I went up for my parents' 50th.
	I told you about that.
	This guy is on the plane with him and he's sitting across from the aisle from him.
	People on planes are getting unbelievable.
	There's a whole passenger shaming thing about it on Instagram, but every year it gets worse.
	And it's now, like, planes used to be a place where you would wear a suit and you'd sit down with a real steel fork and knife and have a steak.
	Now it's a trailer park.
	It's the trashiest people in society congregate on planes.
	And not just like poor, but bad human beings.
	Millennials who bring stuffed animals even though she's 25.
	They sleep at the gate.
	They fucking... They bring their dogs?
	I was on a flight the other day going to LA and there was a guy, probably a hairdresser or a producer, same thing.
	And he had two dogs with him.
	Two of his stupid puppies that were really hairy and he had them in their individual little things and in first class you got tons of leg room so he had he had laid them out in front and I was in first class over on the other side of the aisle as one is wont to do and
	I hear the stewardess say to him, sorry not to him, the person sitting next to him sits down next to him and the stewardess goes, I just want to say, you obviously noticed that the person next to you has brought their dogs.
	If you have a problem with that, that's your call.
	And then he gets super apologetic, the guy sitting next to the dog owner, and he goes, yeah, I'm sorry, I'm really allergic to dogs.
	And then the stewardess goes, I'm really sorry, sir, but this is part of our procedure here.
	You're going to have to move, but we'll seat you in the back.
	So, he goes, you're kidding me, right?
	And then he looks at the dude who has allergies and he goes, I'm sorry, I mean, I don't know what you want me to do.
	And the guy goes, God damn it!
	And he picks up his two stupid dogs and he goes to coach.
	And then he has to put one at his feet and one on his lap.
	I went to see him later on because I couldn't resist.
	He stacked his dogs on his body.
	I actually saw him when we got to LA, too, in a pissy mood, dragging his dogs out.
	He was still mad.
	Dude, why are you mad?
	Why'd you bring your stupid fucking dogs on a plane?
	You missed your babies?
	You don't want to be away from your ba- I don't- I wouldn't even bring my kids on a plane if I could avoid it.
	So anyway, this guy sits near my brother, and he has sardines with him.
	Sardine line.
	And it's not even a small sardine can like the ones in the cartoons.
	Those probably hold like 10.
	I don't eat fucking sardines.
	I didn't know anyone does.
	Oh god, I want to puke just thinking about them salty minnows.
	But the normal sardine can is like, you know, the size of a box of cough drops.
	And I guess you eat those dead salty fish and you enjoy it because for some reason you like eating out of the garbage.
	Um, this guy's sardine can was a foot wide.
	It was like a family style.
	I'm actually getting nauseous describing this.
	And it's exactly like the cough drop sized sardine can, but it's a big long wide one.
	And he went... opens it up and starts eating, stinking up the whole plane with his stupid sardines.
	It gets worse.
	He fucking spilled it.
	When my brother told me this story, I said, I need your flight number.
	I need to talk to the airline.
	I need to find this person.
	I need to kill him.
	I want there to be a Death Wish movie or The Equalizer where instead of him going to kill someone who killed his wife or his kids, he goes to kill people who spill sardine juice in a plane.
	He kills a guy who wore flip-flops to a wedding.
	That's the kind of guys I want to kill.
	Fuck murderers.
	We already have cops for that.
	We need equalizers to go get the sardine spillers out there.
	So yeah, this guy's just chowing down on a full, and by the way, a foot long sardine tin.
	That's a big meal.
	I mean, if that was steak, that would be, you'd be a greedy pig to finish it.
	You would have to, you'd have to be a lumberjack who busted his ass all day chopping trees.
	And then eventually someone goes, Jesus, man, you chopped down a hundred trees.
	I need to take you to a steakhouse.
	Here, have a foot long steak.
	Oh, thank you very much.
	I'll be stuffed when I'm done, but I appreciate you Buying me so much, such a long skinny steak.
	Thank you.
	So he's chomping away on these sardines and then when he's done he's like, I don't know, getting up or something and he spills wet oily sardine juice all over the tray.
	I have to check in with my brother.
	I think he may have got some on the passenger next to him.
	But he definitely got sardine juice all over the stupid tray and all over the carpet, all over the floor, all over himself.
	Damn it!
	Do you hate him as much as I do?
	Like, I just want to hit him with my car.
	This is what I want to do.
	I want to get a prosthetic leg.
	Not a prosthetic leg, but a fake leg from a horror shop, like a place that rents costumes.
	There's a lot in New York City.
	One of these Halloween stores.
	And I want to get a really good zombie leg.
	I want to hand that to the passenger in my car.
	I want to be driving by this gentleman.
	I want to triple confirm that it's him because I don't want to hurt anyone that's innocent.
	I don't like unjustified violence.
	I like justified violence.
	And I want to be driving by him and I want to say, there he is, orange shirt, orange shirt, orange shirt.
	And I want my passenger to hold out this, this zombie leg, which is made mostly of foam and latex.
	And it might have not rebar, but plastic in the center of it.
	And it has a shoe and a pant leg and fake guts hanging out one end.
	And I want him to poke the leg out and smack this guy in the head.
	In the face.
	I don't want to sucker leg him.
	I want him to be walking towards the car.
	I want him to see me.
	I want to point at him.
	I want the car to smack him in the head.
	I mean, sorry, the zombie leg to smack him in the head.
	Then I want to get out of the car and go, That's for the sardines, bitch!
	No.
	He wouldn't know what I'm talking about.
	I want to get out of the car and go, That's for the large, foot-long sardine tin you spilled on Delta Flight 7715 from Toronto to Montreal.
	And then he'd go, it's called Toronto.
	No, it's not.
	It's called Toronto.
	Actually, Americans don't ever talk about Canada.
	You know, Canadians are obsessed with America, but Americans don't even know where Canada is.
	And so they've never heard the word Toronto.
	So when I say Toronto, they say Toronto.
	So I'm training them to say it correctly.
	It's like Glasgow.
	They call it glass cow.
	Glass cow.
	How'd you get that?
	Do you understand what letters are?
	G-L-A-S-G-O-W.
	Glasgow.
	No, it's Glasgow.
	It's a glass cow.
	I had some Puerto Rican call me once, because I never pay my bills.
	I'm cheap.
	I said to my cousin, who's Mexican, by the way.
	My dad's sister married a Mexican guy.
	He's really into Scottish stuff.
	Like he, he heads the Robbie Burns night in Chicago and he's like head of the Highland games and he's got his kilt with his dagger in his sock and all that.
	He's way more Scottish than me.
	But, uh, I said to him, uh, you think you're Scottish dude, but you're not Scottish unless bill collectors call you.
	And bill collectors call me all the time.
	One time I was at my dad's house and someone came by and repossessed his minivan because he hadn't made his payments.
	He took his minivan away.
	Anyway, I'm getting one of my many calls I get, from usually Puerto Ricans, and she goes, Hello, is this Kaby Einz?
	And I said, Pardonne-moi?
	I'm sorry, I'm sorry.
	They always, they get apologetic.
	I'm sorry, Kaby Einz?
	And I go, What does the name say?
	Oh, I'm sorry, sir.
	I'm very sorry.
	His first name is Kaby, second name Einz?
	And I said, oh, that's unfortunate.
	The spelling of my name is G-A-V-I-N-M-C-I-N-N-E-S.
	Oh yes, he says that.
	He says it.
	But he's Cabi-ines?
	So let me get this straight.
	The G is a C. You just, like, ignore the little mouth guard it has at the bottom and it just becomes a C. You got the A right.
	The V is now a B. Puerto Ricans do that all the time, by the way.
	They just add B. Like, one time I was carrying a painting by Gavin...
	Duran?
	DeGraw?
	No, Gavin Duran, the guy from Gang Gang Dance.
	He did a really cool painting for me.
	It cost me a fucking fortune, but it was like 10 feet by 15 feet.
	And so I rolled it up, and I put it in the back of this car, and I was worried about it getting dinged, right?
	The canvas getting creased.
	And when I finally arrived, I go, oh, goddammit, the end is all smushed up.
	And the Puerto Rican cab driver was mad at me, and he goes, you sugar beaver!
	And I go, pardon me?
	I lived with Puerto Ricans for 15 years, so we have an acrimonious relationship for the most part.
	And you would, too, if you lived in a Puerto Rican neighborhood.
	And I go, what?
	He goes, you sugar a biba.
	And I go, you don't speak English.
	Yes, yes, I do.
	And you sugar a bin van.
	A bin van.
	A b-bar is a minivan.
	They're like Glaswegians, where they speak in a lazy, garbled way.
	A Glaswegian wouldn't say, you shoulda got a minivan.
	He'll go, you shoulda got a minivan, maybe!
	By the way, it's at the end of every Glaswegian sentence.
	Sugar, minivan!
	So, Glaswegians don't use consonants, and Puerto Ricans reluctantly use B for all consonants.
	So, minivan is bi-ba.
	And you is ju, which I understand, that's like one, right?
	You is ju.
	Should have gotten is su-ga.
	Ju, su-ga, bi-ba.
	I learned to speak, you know, the Puerto Rican version of English.
	What do they call Ebonics now?
	It's like Ave, African American Vernacular English.
	There's Puerto Rican Vernacular in English.
	I think it's called Purve.
	I speak Purve.
	When you'd call the Northside Taxi Service in Williamsburg, too, they go, I need a car to pick me up at $276,000.
	Okay, uh, pay me.
	You are going to send me a disgruntled pie?
	No, pie meanie is five minutes.
	Fuh is too hard.
	So all constants are like puh, puh, puh, puh.
	Just because it's a billionth of a percent easier to make a buh or a puh sound than it is to make a fuh or a vuh sound.
	So they just go pie meanie.
	And minutes, the T, I'm not going to bother with a T. I'm just going to say meanie.
	Pie meanie.
	Anyway, this bitch calls me up because I owe her money.
	I owe her boss money.
	And she goes, uh, yes, CABBY EIN.
	So the G is a C, CAB B, V is a B, the I, and then we make it to the I, and we go, Jesus Christ, I've been slogging through this first name for almost five letters now.
	I'm done.
	I'm done.
	I don't care if there's an N at the end.
	I'm out.
	Peace.
	So they go, CABBY.
	All right.
	And then There's a weird mick, and this pisses me off, by the way, because the Scots invented the modern world.
	So I understand you're from Puerto Rico or wherever you're from, but you should know Scottish last names because we built the room you're sitting in.
	So at least revere us.
	You know, stonemasons, all stonework, all these stones you see, big old churches and big important city hall buildings.
	That's us.
	So know how to say our last names.
	But there's a thing called perceptual blindness, where they say that the Indians, when they first saw the ships, the Spanish ships, they didn't recognize them.
	They couldn't see them.
	And the argument is that their brains couldn't handle the fact that there was these giant buildings on the water, so their brains just sort of shut it off.
	Now, I don't know how you quantify this.
	How can you prove that Indians couldn't see ships back then?
	But it's an interesting theory.
	I think your brain does sort of patch things in.
	That's why you can sort of, there's that cool those, you know, the splatter drawings where if you just relax your eyes you see like a penguin riding a horse.
	By the way, I've never seen one of those.
	Those don't work on me.
	I've stared frustrated for hours and my dad, who's not creative in the least, he couldn't draw a stick man.
	He's just like, oh, that's a man holding an axe.
	And he can see them instantly.
	I can't fucking see them.
	It would drive me insane.
	I'd be staring at this paint splatters and I couldn't see the penguin on the horse.
	And he's just like, that's a penguin on a horse.
	That's a man holding an axe.
	That's a boat.
	That's a light bulb.
	That's someone eating a banana.
	It would drive me nuts!
	Anyway, so it's conceivable that they had perceptual blindness.
	And I think these Puerto Ricans, when they say Gavin McInnes, they get perceptual blindness because the Mic ceases to be.
	That must be a middle name.
	It's got a lowercase c next to a capital and there's another capital there.
	So I don't see the MC.
	I'm just going to, just like I gave up on the N, I'm not going to start again until I get to the I. So I'm taking a piece out.
	I'm having a cigarette break while I read your name.
	So we go CABBY, cigarette break, INES.
	And they're so illiterate that they don't know that two N's means a hard vowel after.
	So it's I-N-E-S.
	It's the same to them as I-N-N-E-S.
	My kids went to a Puerto Rican school.
	I know this is pretty racist, but I'm just telling you things that I saw with my own eyes.
	My kids went to a Puerto Rican public school when we lived in Williamsburg.
	Jesus Lord, it was a mess.
	My son had a broken arm, which I don't really think he had.
	I think a technician thought he saw a hairline fracture and said, let's just put a cast on it so we don't get sued.
	So my poor son had to wear a cast for like five weeks for no reason.
	Anyway, I heard that they were keeping him inside at lunch because they didn't want to damage the cast, which is idiotic.
	A cast, an arm with a cast is stronger than a human arm.
	And I want my kids to play.
	I don't even want my kids going to school, by the way.
	I'd rather they played all day and didn't sit in your fucking stupid chair and learn your bullshit, terrible Marxist crap about how Martin Luther King hated guns and we stole this land from the Indians.
	And so he goes, yeah, the teacher said I'm not allowed outside.
	And I go, what?
	So I go to the school and I go, my son is fine with a cast.
	He's not going to get snow in it.
	Make sure he can fucking play you stupid bitches.
	I didn't quite phrase it like that.
	This is a school, by the way, I think I mentioned this in another podcast where we all received a notice that said, please stop dropping your children off while wearing pajamas and smelling of illegal drugs.
	That was actually a notice we got.
	This is part of why I moved, by the way.
	And so what happened after that?
	Oh, the teacher kept my son in class at lunch and told him not to tell me.
	That's the solution to their problem.
	That's education in America.
	Just a bunch of dumb union fucks drowned in self-empowerment who preach union politics, Marxism, and garbage communist crap to our children.
	And they don't know anything themselves and they don't, they can't be fired.
	That's the deal breaker with any teacher argument where they go, They work so hard, and it's our children's future.
	Just say to them, well then why can't they be fired?
	It usually ends the argument, because they can't argue against that.
	You cannot fire a teacher.
	They'd have to kill a student.
	Anyway, sorry, I'm off on a total tangent there.
	I still gotta get back to Torontonians and sex, but... So, yeah, she tells him not to tell me.
	So she's encouraging him to lie.
	This is a thing.
	Tucker Carlson had this on his show.
	The schools were...
	Telling kids that you can be a girl in school and we won't tell your parents.
	So boys can go into school and say hi I'm Sandra and be a gay lord all day and the parents are not allowed to know that their student is actually a different gender while at school.
	Great idea guys.
	Good stuff.
	One time, my daughter received on her homework, no merkers.
	This is PS 84, by the way, in Williamsburg.
	PS, sorry, no merkers.
	M-E-R-K-E-R-S.
	The teacher could not spell the word markers.
	Another time, my son got a note on his homework.
	It said, you're awesome!
	Exclamation mark.
	Y-O-U-R.
	Now, if Mercers and Your Awesome doesn't look unusual to you, you don't read.
	So you're not used to words.
	Like my dad saying that John, his friend John, was to the left of mayo.
	He's clearly never heard the word mal before.
	Anyway.
	That's my eyeball you're hearing.
	Listen to this.
	I'm not having sex.
	I'm rubbing my eye.
	I'm twirling my hair and brushing my teeth.
	So yeah, Toronto girls suck in bed.
	And I have a theory.
	I discussed this with Milo Yiannopoulos and he's assured me this is a good theory.
	You suck in bed if you're not Mediterranean.
	Uh, well, Gavin, that's not true.
	You fucked tons of chicks in Ottawa, Canada.
	Yes, I did.
	Ottawa is a government town where you have to be bilingual.
	That means they import people from Quebec.
	Where is Quebec from?
	Quebec, the Québécois, are originally from France.
	France is on the Mediterranean.
	Did you know that blowjobs were invented in France?
	The reason that we have blowjobs in this country is the World War II soldiers were with French harlots during the war, and these harlots were putting the soldiers' penises in their mouths.
	And they went, wow, that feels almost as good as a vagina.
	Let's do it.
	So they went back and said, there's a thing called blowjobs.
	And then bang, now blowjobs are a thing.
	So we can thank the French for BJs, but I think more importantly, we can thank the French for good sex.
	They've got a good attitude.
	They're not great with fidelity.
	They always cheat on their wives.
	But besides that, they're very good at fucking.
	And so Quebec, all of Quebec is Sex Central.
	I did very well there.
	I had every STD in the book, including venereal warts.
	So many times the guy almost ran out of liquid nitrogen.
	One time I was going there having my venereal warts blasted, which is just, he sprays you with this like, you know the thing that cleans your keyboard, that compressed air?
	He had that, but it had like a needle, kind of a spray nozzle.
	And he'd just go, And he'd spray, like, a molecule of liquid nitrogen.
	It hurts like hell, but it's just for a millisecond.
	And that freezes it, and then it falls off.
	And I had, like, four.
	It was an epidemic in Montreal.
	In fact, the guy had—the canister he had, he goes, this used to last me about five years.
	I go through one a week now.
	It sounds kind of fun, like a video game.
	And I go, this is a pretty bad case, huh?
	And he goes, this is nothing.
	He goes, I had a case of venereal warts.
	Gays.
	It was a clinic that was mostly gay.
	It was called Clinique Alternative on Berry Street near the bus station in Montreal, near the Cheval Blanc.
	And he said he had a guy who had so many veneer awards on his dick that he thought, I think the easier thing here to do is to dip his dick in liquid nitrogen.
	The whole thing was a hundred percent scab.
	So rather than go...
	Just dip it in.
	So he dipped it in.
	That whole outer layer dies and then you remove it like a scab sheath.
	And then you have Freddy's face basically for a dick.
	But I guess that eventually heals up.
	You probably have tons of like much thicker scar skin or something.
	He also told me about a gay who had so many veneer awards on his butthole that he couldn't shit.
	It was like, it looked like a bunch of cauliflowers that were around the anal area.
	Anyway, that's how great Quebec is, and that's Mediterranean.
	Greeks, right?
	They invented butt sex and homosexuality, unfortunately.
	But Italians, great and bad.
	The French, the south of France.
	Germans are terrible.
	They don't have access to the Mediterranean.
	The Brits visit France a lot, but they're still... I mean, they're alcoholics, so you can bed them, but they're not really talented in the art of lovemaking.
	Now, Toronto is in Ontario.
	It's an English province.
	Toronto is about a six-hour drive from Quebec.
	There's very little government services there, which means very little French people.
	And that means terrible sex.
	So don't even hit on a girl in Toronto.
	You're not going to get her into bed.
	And if you do, it'll be one of the worst experiences of your life.
	And this is well described in my book, The Death of Cool, which I highly recommend.
	It's an apolitical book of silly stories.
	And I talk about a girl who, um, Her currency was going... She was like an unbelievable babe when I was in high school.
	Totally out of my league.
	Just unthinkable.
	And that's fine.
	But, over time, she started to gain weight, and got older, and then I started vice, and I had status.
	So, by the time I was like 27, I had matched her.
	I caught her on the downward.
	She was coming down, and I was going up.
	And our stocks met.
	And I thought, holy shit, I can fuck Jen Criscombe.
	So I met her at a bar, and it was sort of like unwritten.
	It was like, look, I know that my stock is down.
	It was just free market capitalism.
	Your stock is up.
	I guess you can finally fuck me.
	And I had a few beers with her.
	She was very boring.
	I was with Derek Beckholz at the time.
	He took home his girl.
	By the way, Derek, I've been shit-talking a lot about him.
	He always liked to take advantage of the fact that he's black and go, it's so hard for me.
	It's so horrible.
	Uh, one time we were tree planting together and he was abnormally good, like a freak.
	A lot of mulattoes are great tree planters for some reason.
	Hybrid vigor maybe.
	But he was planting honestly three times better than anyone else.
	So the owner thought he was hiding trees because 99% of the time that's the case when someone has those kind of numbers.
	So we all counted his trees.
	Turns out he wasn't stashing trees, he's just the most talented person in the history of tree planting.
	So he got hysterical and he even made the owner of the company cry.
	He's like, 100 years ago I would have been a lynch nigger!
	But every time I was with Derek, he always got any pussy he wanted.
	I think it was White Gilder, I don't know what it was, but he would do this thing where he'd put his arm down next to the girl, and they'd look at each other's skin tones, and he's a deliciously colored man, he's mochaccino.
	And he would say, what color do you think our kids would be?
	I guess in between this and this.
	So you're showing a lady a gorgeous forearm that's Frappuccino colored, and she feels white guilt.
	She wants to be more Frappa.
	And that would be his pickup line.
	Anyway, Derek did great.
	Took her home.
	Peace out.
	See you later.
	Enjoy your fucking.
	I took my dream girl back to her place, and I'm allergic to cats, so that's already a problem because I feel myself breaking out in hives when I show up at her place because she has cats.
	And she looked great.
	She had high heel shoes on and a big fat ass, which was ironic because that was what was taking down her stock.
	Meanwhile, I'm like, you're worth ten times Your shares are up, as far as I'm concerned.
	You have a big, fat ass.
	But, you know, Toronto's full of a lot of homo, beta male guys, and they want their girls to look like 12-year-old boys.
	So, uh... She's got high heel shoes on.
	I hate when girls do this.
	The second she got home, she kicked them off.
	Girls do this at Fox News, too.
	Like, okay, that's a wrap.
	Good show, guys.
	Boom!
	Put on the flats.
	Like, can you not kill the illusion so fast?
	Like Kennedy.
	Kennedy on Fox Business, I adore her.
	I worship the ground she walks on.
	I would kill anyone who farted in the same building as her.
	However, she looks like a fucking eight on TV with her stilettos and her little tight dresses.
	The second The lights come down, boom, she puts on clogs, wipes off her makeup, puts her hair in a bun, and has like lululemons and a muumuu.
	I'm not even exaggerating.
	Can you not do that at home, please?
	Can you stop killing the illusion all the time?
	Even, like, if my wife's gonna wear a saucy outfit, I don't want to be there for the putting on of the fishnets.
	That's none of my beeswax.
	I want to see the final result, and I want you to stay like that for as long as possible.
	I wish my wife slept in high-heel shoes, to be honest.
	Not gonna happen.
	But yeah, so she gets home, she kicks off her high heels, And then she goes, I gotta change.
	And she goes and puts on sweatpants and a white t-shirt.
	Which is fine.
	I'm a horny dude.
	I mean, I think girls look good covered in abortions.
	But, uh, that's kind of a bummer.
	You know, I'm wearing a suit.
	Uh, okay.
	Well, I'm glad we're doing hot yoga now.
	And, uh, we start horsing around.
	She's not into it, of course, because I'm hideous.
	I look like Wilford Brimley with AIDS.
	Or Donald Sutherland with AIDS.
	But sorry, we're doing an exchange here.
	Your stock is down, lady.
	So we start horsing around and it's not going great.
	Plus, it's weird to kiss me.
	I don't think girls are used to making out with a mustache and a beard.
	So if I was just like to grab you, any ladies listening, all the three ladies out there listening to this, if I was just to grab you, even if you were into me, And I was just like... You'd feel my mustache hairs go up into your nostrils and tickle the inside of your nose.
	It's not a pleasant experience.
	It's like French kissing a walrus who was just passed out on a barbershop floor.
	You just get these weird errant hairs prickling you and going into your face.
	It sucks.
	So she's not enjoying that I assume.
	No woman.
	Even my wife doesn't like to kiss me.
	Which sucks.
	I'd like to make out with someone, please.
	I like Frenching.
	I did it my entire adolescence.
	Those girls would make us—we would neck—we called it necking in Canada—we would neck for like five hours.
	In exchange to touch one tit.
	It was the least fair deal in the history of business.
	But we took it because supply and demand.
	The demand was high, the supply was low.
	So we would French kiss.
	Listening to Stairway to Heaven on repeat for Fucking five hours.
	Jesus Lord, it was torture.
	And then we just get to touch a tit.
	No fingering.
	Remember you try to finger them?
	This is also in my book.
	In the 80s, the girls had skin-tight jeans on.
	Literally skin-tight.
	So it's not like you could get down in some sweatpants and get some good fingering going on.
	You would push your hand down and rake around your fingers in some pubes.
	In fact, Me and James Hunter were both convinced that our girlfriends had no vagina at all.
	Because we reached down there and we felt through the pubes and we felt no hole.
	And we also thought, back when you're 14, you think a vagina is where a penis is.
	It's just right there.
	It's actually where the butthole is.
	It's at the other end, guys.
	Anyway, I'm just repeating my book.
	This is all.
	You got to get the audio version of my book, too, because there's music and stuff during the music scenes.
	I had a hell of a time, by the way, getting an Asian.
	No voice actors would do an Asian voice because they were worried about it being racist.
	That's the one voice.
	You can do Jamaican, Scottish, any voice at all.
	African.
	You cannot do a Chinese voice if you're a voice actor.
	So I ended up hiring a Chinese woman who sucked shit at acting.
	Just because that's the only person I could get.
	So she did the five Chinese lines in the book.
	And she was just terrible.
	Like, I probably could have done a better Chinese woman than you, and I'm not a Chinese woman you are.
	Anyway, so we go to bed and I go to eat her out.
	No, she's not into that.
	She will perform fellatio if I put on a condom.
	No, I'm not doing that.
	I would, if someone wanted me to give a piece of shit a blowjob, a frozen piece of shit, then I would say maybe if you put a condom on it, I'll do it as a joke for 20 bucks.
	Um, that's a frozen piece of shit.
	My dick is not a frozen piece of shit.
	In fact, if you're not thrilled about the idea of doing that, then I don't want you to do that.
	I'm not looking for any favors, thank you very much.
	I want you to be crying because you're so honored.
	Which is why you get married, by the way.
	Because you get to an age where no woman in the world is gonna be like that for you.
	So you realize, alright, I gotta cash out my chips.
	Women don't want me anymore.
	When I got married, there was a dry eye in the house.
	There was not a pussy riot when I told the ladies that I'm hanging up my cock spurs.
	Believe it or not, they got over it.
	I've always said I've always been faithful to my wife, but it's not for want of trying.
	They're not exactly kicking down the front door.
	There's no demand for battering rams over at the McInnes house.
	They're like, you keep him, Emily, he's all yours.
	My wife gets to keep me all to herself.
	My wife has not been concerned about infidelity once, ever.
	Doesn't come up.
	Anywho.
	So we go there and, yeah, the blowjob thing, and that's not going to happen.
	Sorry, I'm not looking for any favors.
	And then she goes, all right, well, I guess I'll masturbate you or something.
	Something really unsexy like that.
	Like, just say jerk it off.
	Don't say anything.
	Don't talk during sex.
	You can't concentrate.
	You know how many times I've said to a girl, I want to cum on my tits?
	You get everything wrong.
	I've never jumped out of a plane, but I imagine if you tried to talk during that, you would fuck up what you're trying to say.
	I brought a camera, I went scuba diving.
	and I brought a camera with me, an underwater camera, and I couldn't take pictures, 'cause I was so, it takes so much concentration and it's so freaky and you have to breathe like.
	As you see things you've never seen before, You're in Mars.
	You can see for miles under the fucking ocean.
	I can see a scuba diver literally three miles away.
	Just floating 50 feet below the surface.
	Just floating there.
	I can see him.
	Way over there.
	It would take me an hour to get to him.
	I can see him.
	So your brain is just overwhelmed.
	And the idea that you can take out the pick and take some snaps, I mean, no.
	You're just trying to stay alive and not have a panic attack.
	It's very, very freaky.
	And by the way, while you're freaking out, a turtle rides by.
	Hey, dude.
	Uh, hello.
	Oh, first time scuba diving?
	Uh, yeah, yeah, yeah, it is.
	Just chill out, man.
	You'll get it.
	You'll get it.
	Holy fucking shit.
	A super chill turtle just drove by.
	It was like that Red Hot Chili Peppers song, Myrtle the Turtle.
	I'm doing really adventurous comedy here.
	You guys are getting a good show.
	I'm really going for it here.
	I just have to do that drop the mic thing where...
	And then he fell.
	That ba-dum-bum.
	So she says something like that, like, I'll masturbate you.
	And then she says, and this is the name of the chapter in the book, Circles or Strokes.
	Circles or Strokes.
	And then I went to bed.
	You ever do this?
	I went to bed in a rage.
	Like the same way you'd punch a hole in the wall or kick something across the room.
	I did that, but it was sleeping.
	So I fucking whipped over to the side and slammed against the bed and closed my eyes and went to sleep in a rage!
	Fuck you!
	With my big stupid back tattoo pointing at her.
	Yeah, stare at this dead jellyfish eating Chunk I Shack and Fidel Castro, you bitch!
	Stare at that!
	And then woke up in a rage, like six hours later.
	Put on my pants and my shoes.
	Got out of there.
	What the fuck was that?
	That wasn't her fault.
	That was Toronto.
	That was a non-Mediterranean culture.
	And you have to avoid it at all costs.
	I've never had sex with a Midwesterner, but according to this theory, it's probably pretty bad if they don't have access to the Mediterranean.
	And it's possible, by the way, that God wanted us all to be Mediterranean.
	I mean, the Fertile Crescent begins and ends around the Mediterranean, does it not?
	So he put the arable land there.
	He put all the good stuff, the beauty there.
	Look at the Romans.
	They discovered civilization.
	They invented democracy.
	That was all around the Mediterranean.
	All the great philosophers, the foundations of our society, the whole idea of freedom was around the Mediterranean.
	I guess Israel's not on the Mediterranean, but...
	Isn't it kind of near it?
	I can't picture Israel right now for some reason.
	It's in China?
	Where the fuck did they stick Israel?
	It's in the Middle East, I guess.
	I feel like it's kind of near the Mediterranean.
	This is embarrassing.
	I cannot pinpoint where the Mediterranean is with respect to Israel.
	I know Israel's in the Middle East, obviously.
	I've been there, and I've been to the Mediterranean, but I seem to think they're linked somehow.
	Maybe people went from the Bible to the Mediterranean.
	Here's another thing.
	You know what a centenarian is?
	Someone who's over 100 years old?
	They have discovered that centenarians have a certain Venn diagram where they all have certain things in common.
	And those things are... They tend to be around islands.
	They tend to be around fish.
	And they are surrounded with their great-grandchildren.
	And with all these factors, not only do they live over 100, they avoid senility and dementia.
	There's something about old people being around their great-grandchildren where they stave off dementia and senility.
	I know that sounds kooky, but look it up.
	New York Times had a big article about it, one of the few articles they had that was true.
	Yeah, centenarians are around their great-grandchildren.
	There's even cases of senility And dementia and Alzheimer's reversing after these people were around their great-grandchildren.
	And I honestly believe that's God sending a message, which is stick the families together.
	When you see that you have great-grandchildren, we reward you with endorphins.
	And we go, good job, dude.
	You didn't just make kids.
	Anyone can make kids.
	But when you make kids kids, that's a very special thing where God goes, Excellent work, dude.
	You really nailed it.
	You didn't just jizz in some some prostitute and she kept the baby.
	You made a lineage.
	Now we're really coasting.
	Now they're gonna have grandchildren and now we're good.
	Good work, dude.
	And I think that's why it reverses Alzheimer's.
	Now what else is around fish and islands and great-grandchildren?
	The Mediterranean.
	I'm sorry, I know this hurts me as a Scot and a Canadian and an American, but I think the Mediterranean is God's favorite place and sex is a great reward and the farther you are away from the Mediterranean, the farther you're away from God, the farther you are away from good sex.
	Here's a little anecdote I'll give you because we're running out of time.
	No, a guy went on a date.
	It was like a Tinder date, whatever.
	I don't know what, eHarmony, whatever they use now.
	He's a millennial.
	And she shows up.
	This is in Toronto.
	She shows up and she goes, you got money for coke?
	Well, cocaine is, uh, it's not Gavin McInnes' day where it was a $20 bag.
	It's now an $80 vial.
	But, uh, yeah, I guess I can call a guy.
	I'll call a guy who knows a guy.
	Yeah, we should get some.
	Okay.
	They haven't even had a drink yet.
	So he buys cocaine.
	Uh, 80 bucks.
	The guy shows up.
	By the way, you're committing a felony right now.
	That's a big pain in the ass.
	And it's not really the thing you do when you first meet someone.
	Like, I'd imagine, all right, it's our third date.
	Let's try some cocaine.
	Okay.
	Whatever floats your boat.
	But, like, hi, my name's Sandra.
	Do you have any cocaine?
	Alright, so he gets some.
	He shouldn't have, by the way.
	I would just say fuck you and end the date.
	But, um, he gets some.
	Then they have beer.
	Then they have dinner.
	And after dinner, so he's paying for this, she goes to the bathroom, does a few bumps, I assume, and then she comes back and she goes, oh, I dropped it in the toilet.
	What?
	I dropped it in the toilet.
	It's gone.
	Now what he should have said is, well, it's a glass vial.
	It's going to fuck up the plumbing.
	Let's get the manager.
	We don't want to ruin their toilets because she's clearly lying.
	But he went, oh, fuck.
	Okay.
	And then, because he's used to it, he's used to dating Toronto girls.
	And then the bill comes and he figures, well, she's obviously going to pay for this because she just blew our Coke.
	And nope, that doesn't happen.
	So he pays for the meal.
	That's probably another 80 bucks, right?
	He said 160 down.
	And they're walking back.
	Now, I know the specials have a song called The Boiler about this notion that you bought a girl dinner and you get to fuck her and that's the deal.
	Of course that's not the deal.
	No one's saying that.
	That you legally get to bone her.
	But... it's kind of an agreed thing where if you blow a bunch of money and then you're on a date and you guys are getting along and they're probably gonna be smashing around.
	You don't deserve it.
	No one's saying that.
	It's not your right.
	But it's kind of a thing.
	And so they're getting close to the house, and he goes, wouldn't mind, maybe I'll come up, smoke a joint?
	She goes, no, no, I don't think that's gonna work out.
	He goes, oh, come on, I'll just come up, have a beer.
	No, I don't want you to.
	Well, come on, look, for two seconds, just come in, say hi.
	I'm gonna see your place.
	No, look, I actually told you no twice now, and this is getting really uncomfortable, and I'm not feeling safe right now.
	And he goes, alright, bye.
	Just turns around and walks home.
	That is Toronto dates in a nutshell.
	Don't do them.
	If you live in Toronto, Ontario, then only fuck girls where you can somehow link them to the Mediterranean.
	And that can be five degrees of separation.
	But if they are totally and utterly separable from the Mediterranean, do not waste your time.
	The other thing you should not waste your time with, by the way, is a crappy holster.
	WeThePeopleHolsters.com has incredible holsters that have adjustable cant and ride, so you can adjust how it goes in your pants.
	Now, that's not a big deal to skinny gentlemen, but tubbies like myself, we like to be able to adjust it so our bellies don't get in the way.
	You can also pee your pants when you have a WeThePupilHolster.com holster, and it won't affect the holster.
	It's plastic.
	It's waterproof.
	You could throw it off a building, then kick it down the street, then kill its entire family, and then have it raised in Abu Ghirab, and then change its identity, have it grow up as a Muslim holster, go to Mecca, start a new family, Pick it up, put it back in your pants, it fits your gun like a glove.
	With a tight, so tight, with a fit so tight it'll make you leave your wife.
	And if you go to WeThePeopleHolsters.com and put in the code word GAVIN, you get $10 off.
	So it's no longer $34, now it's $24.
	I'm worried about the levels on this podcast, it's looking very low.
	Maybe that sound tech can come in and ruin the end of my podcast like he ruined the beginning.
	I also have to promote CRTV.com against my will.
	I don't want to do this guys, but they are forcing me to make you go to CRTV.com and sign up for my show, Get Off My Lawn.
	We just had a very gay episode Of CRTV Tonight, which is another show I do on that network.
	I do two shows.
	And we made it the all-gay episode.
	We had The Gay Who Strayed.
	This is Friday night, tonight, this is airing.
	The Gay Who Strayed.
	She's on Instagram as The Gay Who Strayed.
	And she's a broad who came out as a lesbian and no one cared.
	Came out as a pro-Trump person and everyone hates her.
	It's harder.
	You'll hear this time and time again with Republican gays.
	It's harder to come out as pro-Trump than gay.
	In fact, I think it's kind of cool to come out as gay in this day and age.
	We also have Not Gay Jared on the show, who's not even remotely gay.
	And then we also did a thing called The Best Gay.
	It's a new game I invented where everyone sits around and discusses who is the best gay in the world.
	Now my wife firmly believes it's John Waters.
	He's a pretty great gay.
	But I don't think he's the best.
	I don't really like his movies.
	I love the guy.
	And I know that Fred Armisen, when he was a little kid, he was asked, what would you do if the world was going to end?
	And he said, I would burn the whole street down.
	I'd start 100 fires and blow up buildings.
	He went to, he got a detention for that.
	And they sent him to a psychiatrist.
	And he's like, I didn't say I want to do that.
	I said I would do that if the world was ending.
	So of all the things to do, this is a true story.
	Fred Armisen wrote John Waters a letter.
	This is when Fred was 12.
	And said, hey John, this happened to me at my school.
	Don't you think that's fucked up?
	And John wrote him back and said, yeah, that's fucked up.
	What you said was totally reasonable.
	The world's ending.
	Who cares?
	You can blow up buildings.
	Everyone's gonna die.
	They fucked you over with that setup.
	They set you up to say something crazy.
	You said something crazy and they went, you're crazy.
	You're not crazy, dude.
	You're awesome.
	And then John Waters and Fred Armisen became pen pals.
	And to this day, which has got to be 30 years later, they still regularly send postcards to each other.
	All based on that one time where that teacher was full of shit.
	And she was probably not Mediterranean.
	She was probably a Torontonian teacher.
	So go to CRTV.com and watch CRTV tonight.
	Tonight.

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