Get Off My Lawn Podcast #81 | W.A.S.P.s are scared of wasps
After discussing the bizarre phobia W.A.S.P.s have with the common wasp, I get into this culture of fear we live in where men are so scared someone will see their penis, they urinate in the bathroom stall. I don’t know if this kind of stuff angers you but it drives me crazy. I don’t know why I care so much about how other people behave but everything from flip-flops to people who pick their nose drives me up the wall. Then, we get into America’s obsession with race and how that subject dominates the national conversation while the opioid epidemic and child molesters are totally ignored.
White Anglo-Saxon Protestants, upper middle class white people who are not Canadian, who live in the suburbs of New York.
I can't speak for Long Island, I can speak for Westchester.
They are petrified of fucking wasps.
It's bizarre.
I was at this hot dog stand.
And rich people go there.
It's near a country club.
And there's wasps around.
They're attracted to sugar.
They like sugar.
And you know what you do when a wasp's around?
Nothing.
If you sit on their home, you're probably going to get stung.
If you touch their area, I don't mean their penis.
I mean if you touch their home.
Imagine you raped a wasp.
My penis is so small that I rape bugs.
We used to do small dick and big dick jokes for hours on end.
My dick is so big that I write greyhound on the side and people try to get in it.
My dick is so small that I photoshopped lingerie on mosquitoes.
I just made myself laugh.
But yeah, these wasps are flying around and these people are, these women, men, freaking out.
And the weirdest thing they do is they'll get up and they'll go over another table like the wasp goes, too far for me man.
I can only fly at a million miles an hour.
There's no way I'm going eight feet.
That's not happening.
So they just moved to a new table and then a new little bench and then the wasps go over there.
Wasps.
Uh, and then at one point I saw the dude just gave up, which is what you do.
You can even shoo them and they won't, they won't sting you.
You gotta really, like, the only time wasps sting is when they think, I'm definitely gonna die.
I need one last ditch effort to save my life.
Or if you kill one of their buddies, they send out a gas, which is why, by the way, beekeepers use that smoke to screw up all their communication so they can't tell the others to freak out.
This chick gets up and she starts eating her hot dog just standing facing the dangerous, horrible wasps.
Is it bothering you, by the way, when I say wasps?
Because it's bothering me.
Wasps.
That's like when that, what's his name, Chris from The guy, this Beautiful Life guy, who was on David Letterman, he had a show called, that was a parody of Chuck Norris, and it was called Eagle Snake or something.
God, I suck at that kind of stuff.
But he goes undercover, and he, they ask him what his name is, and he starts to say his real name, which is Chris, and then goes, oh, wait a minute, I should have an alias.
So as he's saying Chris, he comes up with an alias, and he says, so they go, what's your name, son?
He goes, Chris.
And so for the rest of that episode, they call him Crisp.
Anyway, that's what I'm getting when I say wasps.
I'll drop the subject soon and you won't have to hear me like a little snake in your ear hole going wasps.
Anyway, I'll call them Bobs from now on.
So she sits there having her hot dog, staring at the Bobs.
And then a little bit later, there's this little girl, she's maybe 8 or 9, this is the parent's fault, and a wasp lands on her chocolate shake, and she drops that and screams!
Take it easy, people.
I think that suburbanites are particularly non-rural people.
I guess because there's no sense in having a cottage if you already live in the burbs.
But even when we would be at baseball games, my son's baseball games, the ball would go into the woods and they'd go, I'm not going in there!
What's gonna get you?
Rattlesnakes?
Nope.
Poison ivy?
Oak disease?
Red oak?
What?
You get poison ivy once a lifetime.
When was the last time you met someone with poison ivy?
Why is everyone such a scaredy cat?
Is it because I'm from Canada and I'm used to more rugged terrain?
Getting stung by a wasp is like getting poked with a pin.
It hurts a lot.
It's like getting poked hard with a screw.
It kills.
For about an hour, big deal.
It's like getting your ears pierced, basically.
Big whoop.
Also, I was thinking about this when I was on the john recently and I got pee on my butt.
What the fuck is that guy doing pissing in a stall?
Well, I don't want people seeing my dick.
Why?
Who cares who sees your dick?
What if the guy's gay?
Okay.
When I eat a hamburger, fat people see me.
I'm not scared they're gonna snatch it out of my hand.
What's he gonna do, grab it and run?
Yeah, but it's super small.
I don't want people making fun of me.
That hasn't happened since fourth grade.
You think you're going to be at work and people are going to go, I saw Eddie's dick, by the way.
Nothing to write home about, man.
Not a very cool dick.
That doesn't happen.
No one's ever said that to me.
I've heard women describing someone's package as disappointing.
I don't think I've ever heard a dude say, yeah, Eddie's dick's really small, man.
Poor guy.
Men don't think like that.
Men don't report on penises.
We're not penis snitches.
Oh, penis snitches are playing at Mercury Lounge on Friday if you guys want to go.
I know the bassist.
You'd think that would be harder to say, penis snitches.
I guess it's sort of like duct tape where you just, you meld the S's.
But are you as annoyed by me at things like that?
Or do you just go, huh, that person's a pussy.
They piss in the stalls.
I've talked about this before, but at my old alma mater, Carleton University, they were so petrified of pissing next to each other in the john that they would Wait in line.
So it would go urinal, empty urinal, urinal, and no, no, sorry.
First it goes stalls.
So all the stalls are filled up with pooers or peers.
Probably 70% peers, because these people with these hang-ups, which is every male in college, they're not going to poo at school.
So let's fuck it.
You know what?
This is a podcast.
We're having fun.
We're getting crazy.
Let's say 100% pissers are in their stalls, right?
Okay, those are full up.
Second priority, urinals.
You know, the things designed for pissing.
And they don't put the seat up, by the way.
The part you sit on.
They don't put that up when they piss.
So that's how I'm always getting piss on my butt.
And why don't you wipe first?
I guess I should.
Yeah, I don't really think of that.
It's not in the forefront of my mind to prepare my my seating area.
It's not for pissing.
Anyway, then it's the urinals and it's like full urinal, empty urinal, full urinal, empty urinal, full urinal, empty urinal.
What's next now that you have to go pee?
Yeah, well, you'd use one of the empty urinals that's right there.
Yeah, but that's in between two guys.
Uh, so?
No, I'd rather wait in line.
So there'll be a fucking lineup of maybe 20 people, 20 men, waiting in line rather than piss next to someone.
I mean, you don't see this with adults at Mets games.
This is only in college I saw this.
So I would go piss.
I did a cartoon about it once in the school newspaper because I was a cartoonist for the school paper, The Charlatan.
And I did a cartoon where some guy does that, which is what I would always do.
I'd just go pee there.
I'm a crazy rebel like that.
I will piss in a urinal.
And in the cartoon though, it's the same scenario I just depicted, but they go, Fag!
Fag!
He's reaching for your goolies!
And there's a riot that breaks out, and the guy is running for his life.
And the editor banned it because it has the word fag in it.
And I said, yeah, but it's making fun of people who are scared of homosexuality.
He goes, yeah, we can't do it.
That was 1990, so maybe even 89.
So that's when PC was really starting to get some legs, early 90s.
And you know it was heartbreaking because I would look at old leather-bound issues of the charlatan.
It's called the fucking charlatan.
That means trickster.
And we can't have the word fag in it.
And I saw an editor's photo and it was sunglasses on a penis.
An actual dick.
A real dick.
And that's what the editor submitted for his photo.
That was like 1980.
And then you cut to 1990.
And then you cut to 1990, 10 years later.
I've told this story too many times, but my professor burned his office down.
He was a smoker.
And I tried, he was a head of the Canadian Communist Party, Marvin Glass.
And I did a cartoon about him playing with little toy soldiers.
And then the Bolsheviks were killed by Stalin and playing out various communist purges with his little toy soldiers while his ashtray overflowed.
And they made me kill that.
Then I drew an ashtray, they made me kill that.
Then I, then the only, you know what I had to draw for the illustration?
Fire.
A cartoon fire was all I could draw.
I quit that fucking stupid gig.
Fucking weirdos.
I did not belong there, too.
They were all very square.
I never spoke.
And then I had my band, Leatherass Buttfuck, play a show, and they're like, that's the quiet cartoonist?
Yeah, I'm quiet because you guys are fucking weird.
It's the same with the suburbs.
I'm the quiet guy in the burbs, because I don't get these people.
I don't understand being scared of wasps.
Sorry, I promised no more wasps, but they're back.
The wasps have returned.
I felt more comfortable in the freak show that was the Lower East Side and Montreal.
You know, where you meet someone and they're like a pet masseuse?
You go, yeah, OK, I can get with that.
But every single person in the Burbs is in finance.
And I don't have any respect for that job.
You're a money babysitter.
You know, we did a test with monkeys and throwing darts at a dartboard, and they did better than most brokers.
Yeah, but they're very well informed.
They read the Wall Street Journal cover to cover every day.
Good for you.
That's like working at a college radio station and knowing about all the hot new indie bands.
You're not influencing independent music.
You just know about the scene.
Oh, pharma companies are really focusing on their brand this year.
Good for you.
Good news.
Glad you know that.
And they're kind of arrogant, too.
Yeah, I'm at Goldman Sachs.
Congratulations, you're a money babysitter at one of the top firms in the country.
That's amazing.
I go generate income, I put it in the stock market, and then you just sit there and babysit.
Thanks.
I have more respect for babysitters.
at least they play on the trampoline with my sons.
Ugh, I think my son has a crush on his babysitter, the five-year-old.
It's obviously not a real thing, but I think you have strange instincts when young.
Now, I'm not sexualizing children, don't get me wrong, and anyone who does, I would like to meet at a parking lot in the Bronx at three in the morning with some friends to negotiate.
But remember when you're a little kid and you have crushes and you don't know what they are?
I remember we had this friend Brian Martin.
And he was single.
And we had the same taste, I guess.
And he would always have these hot girlfriends.
And this is the 70s.
And I would invite them to my parties when I'd be turning 8 or 9.
And he would come.
She'd come.
I don't mean ejaculate.
She would show up.
And then I remember being so pissed that fucking Brian is there.
Why'd you bring your ball and chain, bitch?
I want it to be just you and me.
Hanging.
Playing pin the tail on the donkey.
I have a pool.
We go swimming.
I could see you in your bikini.
What are you doing, you stupid bitch?
You're ruining my birthday.
Um, you know, when I was talking about the Lower East Side, I was reminded of a story.
I was talking to a dude the other day about, uh, his job was recording on his college TV station, recording bands.
And I said, that'd be cool if you just keep doing that again and again for a few, like three years, especially in a place like New York City.
I bet a lot of those bands would be big.
And then I was thinking of the bands that I would hang around with or knew of or, you know, was next to in the early 2000s.
A lot of them turned out to be big, like The Strokes, a bunch of rich kids from some modeling agency or something, and played some cool poppy kind of 70s, 60s music that was kind of raspy and sounded like it was coming through a radio.
Exploded!
I remember, by the way, seeing Strokes at some Levi's party.
And Andre 3000 was there.
And he was still doing, like, rap with that other dude.
Outcast, you know?
The other guy, whatever his name is.
Joe.
That'd be funny if there was a rapper just named, like, Peter Daniels.
Actually, there was.
There was that Craig Mack.
That was pretty normal.
There was some Kevin guy.
Anyway.
Craig.
Hi, I'm a rapper named Craig.
Craig is, like, Your 14th best friend in grade school.
Where you go, Darren's busy, Mark's on vacation, blah, blah, blah.
You keep knocking him down.
You go, I guess I'll go play baseball with Craig.
Fuck.
Street hockey?
OK.
Hey, Craig.
And then he's all happy.
Finally, someone calls me.
Poor Craig.
That's making me feel terrible.
It's more fun to make fun of kids before you have kids of your own.
You imagine them being ostracized.
I remember Craig getting beat up by, well, to be frank, it was my gang.
And he goes, why does everyone hate me?
No one likes me.
And then Mike Reed and our gang goes, I'll be your friend, Craig.
And then they just walked away and they were friends.
I was like, dude, this is not.
By the way, in my defense, we started that gang to prevent violence.
It was going to be called Wolf Gang.
Mike Reed made the name the Falcons, which he stole from some fucking movie.
And the problem with being, I think we were six or seven, there's no crime going on in the schoolyard.
Like what are you going to prevent?
Rape?
So we ended up turning to evil and just stealing marbles and whipping people's smurfs into the woods and other horrible crimes.
There was a retard in our school named Fat Pat I'm just remembering.
We weren't mean to him.
I think that might be a myth that retards get picked on, at least not in my background.
I never saw anyone pick on someone with Down syndrome.
In fact, we'd make him laugh his head off, where he would fall.
He's a big, huge fat pig, and he would be lying on the ground, and he'd go, I can't get up, I can't get up.
And we'd go, Pat, Pat, here, let me help you.
And we'd grab his hand to pick him up, and then he would whip his hand back, and then we would pretend that he sent us flying and rolling all down the grass like he was some sort of Superman.
We do that about 50 times with Fat Pat.
If your son's gonna be fat and retarded, by the way, Pat is not the best name.
Maybe, like, Maximilian would be better?
You gotta sorta up the tough.
Even Mike would be better.
Than Pat.
Jesus, that kid's cursed three times over.
He's fat, he's retarded, his name was Pat.
But anyway, the guy I was talking to was in Vermont, so it wouldn't have worked out so well.
But the Strokes did great.
Actually, do you want to hear a funny story about the Strokes?
This is so bad.
So I went, I used to, when vice hit rock bottom, I didn't have a salary.
So I started, this was after, so we moved to New York, we had tons of money.
The guy, the market, he was, I think he was a fraud.
And he had no more money, so we had to move into triple five souls.
Storage room.
We would buy coats and hats and shit.
And I put up some bamboo wallpaper on cement walls and we made it our little nook.
And so we're, this may be 2003 and we're broke.
And so I start freelance writing on the side.
And I get tons of gigs right away I guess because of the Vice status, whatever.
And in Britain that's a big deal.
And I started writing for NME.
New Musical Express.
And they had a good budget.
So the Strokes were playing at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame or something.
And they sent me down there to cover them for a cover story.
So I did.
And they're cool guys.
They're really kind of geeky.
They're really into David Cross and comedy and stuff.
So they're much less handsome on the inside.
I don't mean that to disparage them.
I mean, think of them as like excited, nerdy kids.
A lot less, you know, fashionably cool on the inside.
And so they want to hang out and tell jokes and do stuff like that.
And that's fine, but the interview gets delayed like six hours.
And I'm in Cincinnati, which is one of the worst shitholes in the world.
Even the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame fucking blows.
It's just like Prince's pants.
Awesome.
Great.
Look at his little tiny pants.
So I walk around there, and I go to a diner, and I start drinking beers, and I don't know how I did this, but I got unbelievably, unfathomably shit-faced.
Like, blackout drunk.
And then I get a call, they're ready to go.
So I go out to dinner with them, and I'm too drunk to eat.
You've heard of too drunk to fuck.
I'm too drunk to eat.
I'm just like, ah, the food's falling out of my mouth.
I think Albert Hammond Jr.
thought it was funny.
Anyway, I go backstage with them and they go, oh, we're going on.
So they start the show.
I still haven't done my interview.
And then I'm sitting watching the show and I'm on the stage.
And then I start sort of coming out and I'm sitting on the stage.
Like, you see me.
If you go to see the show, you see this band and then there's this fucking Donald Sutherland with AIDS is sitting next to the bassist's legs.
Just sitting there.
Like, why aren't the bands just... And then, I passed out and fell asleep.
So I'm napping on the stage as a band plays.
Like, you should have girls in bikinis and high-heeled shoes, like, popping balloons or throwing puppies around or whatever you guys fantasize about.
It was kind of Freudian in those examples.
But, uh, not a sleeping man.
And then I woke up in the motel room with a faint memory of being picked up by my jacket and thrown out of their fucking dressing room after.
And I played the tape back.
God, if you ever hear yourself drunk, it's really embarrassing.
I was like, I don't know what's... trying to make people laugh.
It's a pathetic rendition of your soul.
And I remember I said, I heard myself on the tape say to the guy throwing me, Hey, what are you doing?
I'm going to get you.
I got my hair blown out.
My loved arms all floppy.
And I realized I was probably seeing myself in a mirror and my hair was probably up from like bedhead.
And then my arm was floppy because I probably fell asleep on it and it was numb.
So I just sat away at the typewriter and typed up total and utter bullshit about the band and what they were like, and then I sent it to NME, and they go, this is okay, but you didn't mention the drummer.
Fabrizio Moretti, I think is, no, what's his name?
Something like that.
Big, really Italian name, Fabrizio.
And I go, oh, yeah, he went upstairs and looks like fucking jicks.
So I didn't see much of him.
And that was a lie.
And I think he was dating Drew Barrymore at the time.
So I'm like hurting their relationship.
So they wanted to kill me after that.
And I remember seeing, I think it's Nick, maybe the bassist or something, at Mercury Lounge, which is probably why I always use that place is for my jokes of funny band names.
And he's like, you got a lot of nerve showing your face in here.
Dude, I know who you are.
You're not Tony Soprano.
You're not in a very difficult situation.
Mathematics.
And so I started laughing.
I go, who the fuck do you think you are?
You think you can name certain areas that are no-go zones because the Strokes got beef?
And I just laughed at him.
And then we had that stupid nose-to-nose thing where we go, what are you gonna do, bitch?
I've had maybe, for every one actual fight, there's at least a hundred, oh yeah?
Oh yeah?
What are you gonna do about it?
Oh yeah?
Nose kisses.
And then I saw him that night, and he was like, he was about 20 feet ahead of me, and he turns around and he goes, Gavin McKinnon's a fucking asshole!
I think he grabbed an orange from a fruit stand and whipped it at me too.
I said, very brave, Nick, very brave.
And that was, you know, that, of course, this is my version of the story.
So I come out really cool in it.
I'm sure their version is actually, I don't really sound very cool at the beginning of the story, but anyway, the yeah, yeah, yeah.
Story is not as good as that.
And that one wasn't great, but, uh, I'm, I'm, I'm with Karen Oh, and she has this a designer named Joe, Joy, Joy Albertine or something.
I'm screwing up.
I'm inserting crass.
I'm getting their millennials youth culture mixed up with my own.
She's a stylist for Karen O of the IAAS and I think her name's Joy.
Anyway, um, this kid's talking to Karen O, and she had just become famous recently.
But those guys used to be our buddies.
There was like that little guitarist dude who had his hair tall to make himself look taller.
Fun, funny little guy.
Good guy.
Good dude.
And he was just sort of like the dude who was on Houston and Ludlow hanging out, and then all of a sudden they're this massive band.
That's kind of the fun part of New York City is people just pop and become huge.
And you're like, that's that little dude from over there.
Anyway, so I like Karen, uh, not more than a friend.
She's, I think she's a bit mental, but in a cool way.
She's a very eccentric human being, kind of like Cyndi Lauper, I would imagine.
And so, quirky Karen is sitting over there, and some dude's sitting bothering her, and I, you know, I hate being famous, and even before I was famous, I hated when other people, when they act around famous people and bother them all the time, and harass them, and bore them to death.
So, some fucking random stranger is boring her to death, and clearly not trying to get laid.
He's just, like, taking up her time.
And I'm thinking, she came out here with us, we're at this bar 2A to have some fun, and there he is fucking talking.
And I was in a bad mood already because flip-flops were big.
Starting to get bigger.
They're now everywhere.
The fact that these men are wearing fucking shower shoes blows my mind.
Like, on the plane, you got your little bobby socks, your ankle socks, And your shower shoes.
Like, black kids in the hood play basketball in shower shoes.
I've even seen people go swimming with them on.
They keep them on in the fucking pool.
At nice vacation spots.
And then you have these young men who want to wear Gucci?
And Prada?
What the fuck?
That shit is for old ladies and homosexuals.
Why does a 10-year-old boy want to wear Gucci sliders?
Jesus Christ!
You know, there was a great moment there with that song, I Got My Vans On, but they look like sneakers.
Black people can just change the course of youth subculture overnight.
And that one song ended the sneaker pimp thing, and the Air Jordans, and you had to have these $110 shoes.
And all of a sudden, all people want to wear Chuck Taylors and Van Eras, Vans Era.
Just that one classic Vans shoe.
That's all they wanted.
Those were only like 45 bucks at the time.
And I love that.
I love when youth culture isn't part of some sort of major marketing campaign.
But it didn't last.
Now it's back to the way supermodels dress when they're at home.
It's profoundly embarrassing.
Does that anger you?
It angers me.
It's the same as people pissing on the litter, being scared of wasps.
I think it's a Scottish thing, where you're irked by people who butt in line, even when it's not the lineup you're in.
You just go, for the community, you should be better at waiting in line.
Actually, I just had an epiphany.
Scottish dads tend to be good dads, and they tend to enforce discipline.
And the father's role, as we discussed last episode, is to show you that you're not the only one that matters.
The community matters.
So when you have a super intense father, you end up with a more powerful sense of community.
Um, so that's the opposite of a child raised by a single mom who's like, me, me, me, my emotions, me getting ahead in line, me budding.
That's not countered with community, community, don't let people bud, we need a society where people wait their turn and do things fair and square and handshake deals and all that stuff.
Huh.
Wow, I solved it live on the show.
Anyway, um... So we're... I'm watching the Yeah Yeah Yeahs singer talk to this guy and I think, he's fucking pissing me off.
Leave her alone, dude.
So I get a lemon and I take it from someone else's drink and I aim it up and I guess God was sharing my irritation because I threw it and I got him right smack dab in the open eyeball.
I hit him with a lemon.
And to get raw lemon on your eye is almost worthy of a jackass episode.
Like, it fucking stings.
And so he just goes down like he was shot.
He just goes, ahhh!
And, uh, I think that was effective.
Nice work.
I'm basically Jason Bourne.
Jesus Christ, it's Jason Bourne.
And he goes down and she's like, are you okay?
And he, I think he leaves to go wash his eyes.
Gotta go wash my eyes.
And Joy comes over and it turns out that he wasn't an annoying fan.
He was a good friend.
They were having, catching up on old times.
Whoops.
Got the wrong guy there.
Sorry, Lemon Eyes.
Lemon Eyes are playing at Mercury Lounge.
They're not a good band.
They're a Lemonheads cover band and they suck.
So Joy comes up to me and she goes, did you just throw a lemon in that guy's eye?
And I just ignored her.
And I kept talking to my friend.
She goes, hey, Gavin, I'm talking to you.
Did you just throw a lemon in that guy's eye?
And I kept ignoring her.
Because even that was kind of fun.
I found her a little bit irritating, Joy.
And then she asked me a third time.
And she goes, I'm going to ask you one more time.
What is this with these fucking women thinking that they're Bruce Lee?
Every bar I go to, every time there's a fight at a bar or something, there's some woman jumping ahead going, hey, you got a fucking problem?
Lady, you're made of bird bones.
If I punch you in the face, which I would never do, well, I would if you hit me 12 times.
You're allowed to hit a woman if she hits you 12 times.
And then you can't hit her again until she gets another 12 shots in.
But still, my fist is going to go through your bird face.
Like if I punch, a woman like bumps her knee on the table and she has a black bruise that's got purple strings in it for a week.
A man hits his head when he's really tall and he just closes his eyes and looks down like, did I tell you about my, remember that Trevor guy?
I did an episode of?
We're getting wasted in England and we're staying at this guy's house and because it's Britain all the door frames are about five feet tall because they're all little hobbits over there and he's about six too and he comes running out, not running, but he comes swiftly from the kitchen into the living room and he smashes his head And it was fucking loud.
Like I thought someone hit, and you felt it too, like he shook the house.
And then I look over and he's just staring at the ground.
Totally silent.
And I go, what's going on buddy?
You okay?
And he goes, I'll never forget this till the day I die because it's so true.
He goes, first I got really, really scared.
Then I got really, really mad.
And then I got really, really sad.
Isn't it weird when women get hurt and they cry, like they stubbed their toe?
Why are you crying?
Are you a slave and the owner stubs your toes every morning?
And you hate this prison you're in?
I understand that, because you're distraught about your situation you have no control over.
But when you stub your toe or some accident happens, I don't get why that evokes tears.
I get mad if I stub my toe.
I go, God damn it!
And I also started thinking, like, how did that happen?
Maybe I should wear shoes indoors more often, or that chair is a stupid chair, or why do we have these fucking chairs?
They're always- people are always stubbing their toes.
Who has a steel bench in their fucking kitchen?
That kind of stuff.
But the last thing I would think after I hurt my toes... God.
This is so sad.
Although I got that Trevor was sad.
Anyway.
Eventually she asked me like the third time and I realized she's not gonna drop the lemon thing.
And I turned to her and I just go, yeah I did.
And if you don't shut the fuck up I'm gonna throw a lemon in your eye.
And she said, fuck you, and left or something.
And that was the end.
We were arch enemies after that.
And I would see her at my local bar, Max Fish, and walk by her.
And she'd go, fuck you.
Oh, Gavin?
I'd walk into the bar and she'd be like, Gavin McInnes, my favorite person in the world.
Like, super sarcastic.
And it's so funny that, and that went on forever, we never spoke again, you know, and we had a lot of friends in common.
And all because I mistakenly assumed, mistakenly?
Assumed that some friend of Karen O's was an annoying fan.
Isn't it funny how the one thing can just set you off, especially I guess in New York where there's just so many people, even whatever your little scene is, there's so many people that you're happy to just like constantly be culling the herd.
Yeah, that was the same bar I was, uh, I was leaving once and we were doing tons of coke and I had coke all over my nose on purpose.
I always thought that was a funny thing to do when you do coke.
Instead of, like, straightening it out, out your nose before you leave the bathroom, put more coke on your nose.
And then go talk to people and pretend you don't notice.
And then they do that gesture like, hey buddy, you got a little bit of hoo-hoo on your hee-hee.
And you're just like, what?
Pardon me?
Anyway, and then you just keep talking.
It's a fun one.
It's sort of like ignoring Joy when she asks you if you threw a lemon at someone.
But I remember leaving that bar once, and I, uh, turned around on Isaac Hylde, and I said, WHITE POWDER!
WHITE POWDER!
And then left the bar, and someone who was at the bar told me later that someone who was there saw that, and they went, fucking racist cokehead.
Like, taking that totally seriously and pretending that it's a guy who is a strong advocate of white nationalism and also cocaine.
Those are his two things.
Those are the two things he pursues.
Hi, we're a group, we're a white nationalist group that is strong cocaine advocates.
We've been lobbying on Capitol Hill for them to make cocaine legal.
That's just like this article I read in Daily Beast about diversity and multiculturalism infiltrating the white supremacist movement.
What's happening in the white supremacist movement now is a lot of African-Americans are joining and that's to give it more credibility.
What?
Do they do restaurants also put shit in their food to make it healthier?
That's a terrible analogy because I just black people didn't come out very well in that analogy.
But that's like the Olympics, including panda bears in the track and field to give it more validity.
A white supremacist thinks white people are better than everyone and wants them to be alone together.
He's pro-segregation.
So you should see black people joining a thing, whatever the thing was, I think it was Proud Boys in this case, and go, "Oh, turns out I got the thing wrong." But they're so myopic that they can't be phased.
So you could go like, "Oh, this violent group beats the shit out of people." Really, I checked out the group, 100% of their members are limbless and armless and in wheelchairs, and then their angle becomes limbless and armless.
More violent than we thought.
Yes, apparently people who are completely paralyzed and without limbs are real brawlers.
Like, that person's gay.
Really?
They're married.
Yep.
Married people hiding their gayness.
Yeah, I understand that's called being in the closet, but people have been happily married and they died.
After 50 years of marriage, they died happily of old age.
Gay person holds in his gayness his entire life.
You're like, I can't win.
I give up.
You are a mental patient.
So this black guy, I've even heard people say, no, no, you can be a racist and marry to a black woman.
Really?
So you're just sitting there over breakfast, just brooding.
Just like, look at this fucking piece of shit.
God, look at her sip her coffee.
Ugh, disgusting.
How did this fucking animal get into my house?
Is that what you do?
All day, all night?
It's insane!
I mean, if anything, that article is the final straw.
That means it's time to give up talking to these people as rational human beings.
They're like cult members.
It's exactly like these doomsday cults where they say the world will end on October 1st and then on October 2nd you go, so I guess your cult's done.
No, no, the date's changed.
Oh, okay.
Because you talked a lot about October 1st.
No, it's different now.
What do these black people do at these meetings?
They're just abused the whole time?
Do they sort of get on all fours and the white nationalists use them as chairs?
Do they serve drinks all the time?
Is it just like a plantation?
Do the white nationalists have them fight like that Django Unchained movie?
Is that what goes on, you fucking Luddite retard dunce boob?
How did we get to this level of insanity in this country with the guy who's shooting himself in the arm to protest Trump?
What?
They had a rally.
Remember that rally about six months ago where they, everyone got together to scream at the fucking sky?
And by the way, you only have about 8 seconds of scream in you before your voice is toast.
So you're setting up a rally where everyone gets together for 8 seconds.
I mean, even like fireworks would have made more sense.
We're lighting fireworks to say that we love this country but we don't want to celebrate July 4th on July 4th because we're ashamed of Trump.
That's got a semblance of logic.
I could get with that.
But screaming at the sky?
That's what- That's like an insult that I would come up with.
You're the kind of person who would just stand there and scream at the sky, you fucking loser.
In fact, it is a meme, right?
Old man yells at clouds.
Jesus, Jesus, Lordy, Lord, Lord.
Anyway, I think my problem is that I care about the community and it's not just pissing in the lid and butting in line.
I honestly care about... I care about the people who hate me.
Like all these spinster feminists who have foregone families and decided to pursue a column at Huffington Post that pays them 80 bucks a week while their poor father pays for their rent and they pretend they're making a difference in the world and what they're doing is so much more valuable than creating and shaping life.
I feel bad for her, and I don't mind that she hates me as long as I've planted the seed in her head that she should have seeds planted in her womb.
At least I plant some doubt, although maybe some of them just to spite me are even more determined to remain single and stay as a colostomy bag for a bunch of strangers to come.
Way to go, ladies.
You really rocked my world there.
You really stated your independence by keeping a ledger of your boss' meetings instead of fuckin' saying yes to that guy who was madly in love with you and proposed, and you went, sorry, not ready.
Even, like, these total beta pussies, like, what's his name?
Ezra Klein.
I don't think he has kids.
So he's talking about society and how to save it and he doesn't have any kids.
Every time you watch the news and even right-wing news and there's all these people talking about the parents need to do this and the schools and education and taxes are too high.
None of them have kids.
None of them have skin in the game.
You're looking at a bunch of pontificators who are just like, it might as well be high school kids coming up with ideas on their own.
I guess because moms are too busy.
I always thought Fox News should have a housewife as a guest.
So it's like, head of foreign affairs, local billionaire investor, and then Rhoda from Indiana.
And she's just got like her beehive glasses on and an apron and a rolling pin.
Because she's a major part of the electoral force, right?
She changes elections with her opinions, so why shouldn't she be a pundit on the news?
But she doesn't give a... She's got bigger fish to fry.
Literally.
And I care about them.
I care about Ezra Klein.
I care about Chris Hayes and Rachel Maddow.
Well, Rachel Maddow's never got kids.
She's a lesbian.
I think her girlfriend has insanely big tits.
Isn't that kind of a waste with lesbians?
Or maybe not.
It took me a long time to understand giant tits.
You know who I got it from was my lawn care guy, upstate.
I ended up, Albert Hammond Jr., from the Strokes, we come full circle, he ended up buying property near me at my place upstate, which I've since sold.
And we had the same lawn care guy, an American, a legal citizen.
And I said, what's going on with Albert?
How's he doing?
Oh, good, good.
I heard he has, he's got a new wife.
Oh, I bet it's some fucking insanely hot supermodel.
And he's like a big, fat, six-foot-four guy.
And he's like, yeah, yeah, not my... The funniest thing about upstate New York is they all have New York accents.
And they hate Manhattan.
Like they wear stars and bars.
They wear Confederate flag stuff.
Not to say the South will rise again, but it's just to say I'm a redneck and I fucking hate Manhattan and I wish they weren't part of New York State.
I love the country.
I love hunting.
I love New York.
I hate the city and the boroughs and the suburbs.
Fuck all those people.
That's what the Confederate flag means in upstate New York and he's one of those guys.
Camo!
But they still sound like a New York cab driver.
So you'll have some farmer up there.
Hey, my fucking chickens are driving me nuts this season, man.
Fucking foxes getting in there.
They're not producing eggs.
I think they might be fucking scared of the next fox coming in.
I got them shit scared and they're not making me any fucking eggs.
Might as well just eat them motherfuckers.
Um, so he's that kind of guy.
Yeah, I do a bunch of people's- everyone up there does 40 jobs.
So, the guy- literally the guy who did my driveway, shoveled my driveway, was also the local sheriff.
Which is very good when you get caught drunk driving.
You definitely want to have the guy in your pocket.
He doesn't want to lose a snow client.
And I'm not that drunk, officer.
Anyway, he goes, yeah, yeah, Albert's new wife is beautiful, but she ain't got tits, so that's- that's not for me.
And I was like, what's your deal with big... I never really got big, huge tits.
Like, what do you do?
Suck them?
Do you just put cream on them or something?
Like, what do you... Isn't it kind of gay to, like, be so into something that hangs?
What do you do?
Motorboat?
I get when she's on top, they're hitting you in the face.
That could be cool.
But... I don't really get it.
I don't know what you're supposed to do to them.
Lick them?
Bite them?
Slap them?
You can't slap them.
I hear they're like balls.
You feel sick if you give them a whack.
Put clothes pegs on them?
That seems a little too intense.
And he goes, nah, nah.
It's a visual thing.
I'm a big guy.
I look down.
I see those things swinging around.
And the penny dropped.
I went, oh.
Big tits are a visual thing.
Now I get it.
You don't do anything to them.
You don't touch them.
You just look down as they swing in concentric circles like two rotary blades.
Oh, well that took me about 45 years.
How did I get there again?
Shit, I don't know, I've been, We have these Maker's Mark bottles on the set of my show, CRTV Tonight, which is at CRTV.com.
And I'll occasionally just have a little swig before I do a segment just to take the edge off.
Because I get nervous before I do these things.
Not because I'm scared, but because when something has limitless potential, like this monologue might become the speech in Braveheart.
It might revolutionize people, or you might just look like a hungover dude reading from a teleprompter.
And then you watch that later and you go, way to go, fuckface.
You blew that opportunity to do something interesting.
And my monologue this Friday is about the opioid crisis.
Which kills about a hundred people a day in America 115 to be specific about 40,000 people a year and I became obsessed with Mac Miller and His death maybe because I really like that song Donald Trump, which he's since renounced But it might be because on his 2011 mixtape.
He has this song I think the perfect day or something like that and it's half of it is home videos home movies of him as a little cute little kid and And I heard him mention in an interview that he wanted kids one day and I just, it's just so gutting.
And it keeps fucking happening and it's one family, the Sackler family.
And I think Eric Bolling, my colleague here at CRTV, his son, I believe died of an opioid epidemic, my local bar in my town.
You know, she-she country club town, everyone sails and golfs and stuff.
And that bartender, his son passed away.
I'm just so fucking pissed.
I remember one time I was at that bar and the guy was selling wine and he goes, and this is a nice one from South Africa, and the bartender, there's a different bartender, he goes, no I'm not interested in wine from South Africa.
Now I don't like rocking the boat in my neighborhood because I'm new there and my wife and I are basically the coneheads in our neighborhood.
We're trying to blend in but we're inherently freaks, especially with all my fucking ridiculous tattoos.
If I go to the beach, my entire back is a skullhead jellyfish eating Chunk I Shack and Fidel Castro.
My entire back.
And everyone else there will have just like a I don't know their fucking daughter's name on their ankle at the very most.
So that's already ridiculous.
So we're trying to blend in.
I don't want to rock the boat.
But when he did that, I just thought...
Apartheid was abolished in the 80s, dude.
83?
82?
White people are being eaten alive.
They take a man, they rape and murder his wife and daughters in front of him, then they blind him with acid, and then they leave so he'll kill himself a few days later, which he inevitably does.
That's the situation in South Africa, and you're not buying their wine because they're racist.
Grow the fuck up.
I mean, this obsession with race in this country is becoming... I've had enough of it.
Like, that dude Kramer, his life is ruined because he said the N-word about a billionth as many times as Three Six Mafia did.
We need to recalibrate our pariah machine, because we're aiming it at the wrong thing.
It should be aimed at this opioid crisis, for fuck's sakes.
Or, you know, this war on free speech in Britain, where Tommy Robinson is being told his wife's gonna get acid thrown in her face, and they're doing it just to make him cry when he's in solitary confinement.
That seems to me a bigger deal than Kramer swearing when he loses his temper.
No thanks, I don't do Cambodian wine.
That's where Pol Pot is from.
Like, being obsessed with Hitler is like being obsessed with Pol Pot.
or something and going, no thanks, I don't do Cambodian wine.
That's where Pol Pot is from.
Like being obsessed with Hitler is like being obsessed with Pol Pot.
It's equally ridiculous.
But yeah, and that bartender's son, the other bartender's son, just died of an opioid overdose.
And you think, could we maybe redirect our outrage?
Like, can we give opioids some major stigma?
I think most young people don't even understand that there's a myriad of drugs out there.
Lots of drugs.
Speed, coke, pot.
Tons and tons and tons of drugs.
One of them is Russian Roulette.
I've never heard of anyone dying of a cocaine overdose.
I guess they have a heart attack or speed addicts might have a heart attack.
But for the most part, it's only fentanyl, oxy, heroin, all those opioids.
So think of it as a bunch of pretty girls and one of them has AIDS.
We have to let the kids know that this one has AIDS.
It's not worth the risk.
I know it feels good.
Don't get me wrong.
I've tried heroin.
It feels great.
But there's all these girls that are like 8.1s and then there's a 9.7 who has AIDS.
Who do you want to have sex with?
And they all have equally big tits, by the way, if you like to visualize.
Have sex with the eights.
You can, with pot and booze, you can really cook up in a frying pan a very good simulation of opioids.
You can get pretty darn, especially with this modern pot that's like fucking, like being hit with a Mack truck, I can't really handle it anymore.
But a few, like two makers, four beers, the right tokes.
You can get like 70% of the way that you could get to heroin.
And you don't die of AIDS.
So I just wish we would focus on more realistic threats than microaggressions and what someone may have meant and this fucking obsession with white supremacy.
Even when you say, now we're saying black people are white supremacists.
That's fucking Looney Tunes.
That's mental illness.
It's reached points of mental illness and that would be harmless fun and just worth laughing if there wasn't actual things going on.
Like children being raped in Rotherham.
Like pedophile priests in Philadelphia and all over America.
That should be the top stories that should just be on a loop basically in the news.
Not the president may have fucked a porn star ten years ago.
No one Who fucking cares?
That doesn't hurt anyone.
That's irrelevant.
The stories we should be hearing about is pedophile priests, pedophile Muslims, and opioids.
40,000 a year.
That's like breast cancer.
That's like car accidents.
That's like smoking.
I mean, obesity is more like 500,000.
Actually, you're right.
You're right, subconscious.
Obesity should be at the top.
That's half a million people a year.
But they don't want to fuck with their advertisers.
In fact, I remember at Fox News they would say, Hey, uh, don't shit on fat people, uh, today, because they're our bread and butter.
No, I'm shitting on fat people.
Some of my best friends are fats.
Fats.
I'm gonna call them fats from now on.
But I tell my fat friends all the time, Dude, you're dying.
Stop it.
And I make fun of them.
And that's actually benevolent.
Because I'm trying to wake them up to the fact that they're dying.
Anyway, it's all in good fun.
It's all got a purpose to it.
And the purpose is I care about my community.
I want them to be better.
I don't care if they hate me, but I want fat people to know they're dying.
I want young people to know to stay away from opioids.
I want 25-year-olds to know that they should probably stop partying and settle down.
Partying's awesome, don't get me wrong, but you're partying your ass off when you're 40?
And you're not married?
What are you doing?
You first got drunk when you were 14.
How many wild oats do you gotta sow?
I've always said if you're not done sowing your wild oats after 10 years of booze and drugs and rampant sex, then you have a mental issue.
As I swig my bottle of Makers Mark.
CRTV.com got a show, CRTV Tonight.
This Friday I've got a pro skater who's pro MAGA and he's losing a lot of sponsors for it because we're obsessed with fucking dumb shit like someone might be racist.
And I also have Claire Hardwick and Lisa DePasquale and a dude from the Daily Caller whose name escapes me, but he's an awesome guy.
I think his name's Denny or something?
I'm sorry.
I fucking suck with names.
When you get to this age, names escape you.
Oh, this has been a long one.
And then we're back to business as usual on Monday with Get Off My Lawn.
