Everybody have a good St. Patrick’s Day? Anybody go to the parade? Why do they have the parade on Fifth Avenue? The only street in New York that doesn’t have any bars on it. What is the point of that?
You know who marches in the parade? Politicians who are running for office. Vote for me! I can walk in a straight line. I’m not in a sex scandal. I have self-control. I can cross 57th Street without buying a soft pretzel.
You ever see how a politician waves? It’s like the back of the hand. (A back of the hand wave.) I don’t have to talk to you. You don’t count. You’re irrelevant. You don’t matter. I screen my calls. I have a paid staff so I can ignore you.
What kind of holiday is it if you don’t even get the day off? You have to tell your boss: Mr. Grant? Mr. Grant? I know it’s a work day, but can I go watch the parade and get drunk before lunch? As soon as I’m really drunk, I’ll immediately come back to work, I promise.
Why do we want to celebrate somebody else’s ethnic holiday? Because my ethnicity and your ethnicity have crappy holidays. We don’t like our own holidays, so we’re trying to glom onto somebody else’s. That’s what we’re all thinking. Screw Purim! I want Cinco de Mayo. I want Fat Tuesday. I want some real holidays. I want to get hammered, I don’t want to light those frigging candles.
You know who always has the biggest float in the parade? Guinness. Drink responsibly. Always wait until after you give birth. After you give birth, you can drink all you want. The baby will love it.
Aer Lingus always has a float. Which is great marketing. Cause whenever I’m trying to decide which airline to take, I always look out the window to see if there’s a parade going by. Oh, Aer Lingus, great. I was all set to take Air Libya, but now that I look outside and see this tractor trailer with shamrocks all over it, now I have go with Aer Lingus.
Besides St. Patrick’s Day, is there any other time that you visit St. Patrick’s Cathedral? Isn’t it great how they built this whole humongous church just so people had a place to go to the bathroom during the parade?
But tell the truth. Can you really be in St. Patrick’s Cathedral on St. Patrick’s Day and not realize that you’re an alcoholic? Did you ever notice how the cathedral has 12 steps leading down from it? Why do you think that is?
Do we even know who St. Patrick was? He brought Christianity to Ireland, is that it? I thought that was Bono. That’s how ignorant I am.
Not only did St. Patrick get his own holiday, and a parade, and a cathedral. But he also got a candy bar named after him. You know what it is? Twix. Yes. The Twix was originally called the St. Patrick’s Bar. So it was bad for your teeth and it promoted alcoholism. Now that’s a candy bar.
You know who runs the parade? The Ancient Order of Hibernians. You remember a few years ago, there was this whole law suit because the Ancient Order of Hibernians would not allow ILGO, the Irish Lesbian and Gay Organization, to march in the parade while they were having sex? They had to wait until after they were done having sex if they wanted to march in the parade.
Which ILGO thought was incredibly unfair because there was this other group, the National Society of Irish Dermatologists? And they were treating acne the whole time they were marching. And nobody said anything.
First of all, what did the Irish Lesbian and Gay people think they were going to get from appealing to a group called the Ancient Order of Hibernians? This was not the New Freaky Coked-Out Order of Hibernians. This was not the National Association of People Who Once Slept with Liam Neeson. This was the Ancient Order of Hibernians. What would you expect them to say to a bunch of gay people? (Irish accent.) Look at this picture, m’lads. This is how people in the 5th Century did their fisting. Is that wonderful?
How many people went out drinking on St. Patrick’s Day? You have to go drinking, right? It’s an obligation. It’s just like New Year’s Eve except you have to go back to work the next day.
Otherwise, it’s exactly like New Year’s Eve. You drink all day, and then at the end of the night, everybody goes 5..4..3..2..1..It’s March 18!
And of course you have to go to an Irish bar, right? On St. Patrick’s Day, everyplace is suddenly an Irish bar. Did you ever walk in someplace and all you can smell is green paint. And you’re thinking: Wasn’t this an Indian restaurant yesterday?
Of course you have to wear green. You wear green on St. Patrick’s Day? It used to mean you were Irish. Now it means that you’re environmental. Before you start on to your second six-pack, you have to put the first six empty bottles into the recycle bin. Then you’re green, you’re okay.
What is the point to a holiday that’s not a day off from work? They give you Columbus Day off. Which is to celebrate Italian-Americans, right? You’re supposed to, what, stay home and eat pizza all day? But then they don’t give you St. Patrick’s Day off? They don’t give you Chinese New Years off? That’s totally unfair.
Do Irish people really want ignorant people like us celebrating their culture? What do we know about Irish history? Hey everybody, let’s reenact the potato famine. Let’s all make believe we’re in the IRA. Get drunk and blow up a building.
What do you or I really know about Irish culture? Nothing. Do you know what Erin go braugh means? A week before St. Patrick’s Day, I walked into Victoria’s Secret and asked for an Erin go braugh. I figured I’d wear it for St. Patrick’s Day, right? Do what the Irish people do.
Does anybody here actually like bagpipe music? Anybody? You know why the Police Department has a corps of bagpipe players? Because whenever there’s a riot or an angry mob, it’s the perfect way to clear an area. You just start playing bagpipes and all the rioters go: Oh my God I got to get out of here!
So it’s 3 AM on St. Patrick’s Day, I’m sitting in the back of the Indian restaurant, and my friends are so drunk that they’re telling me what they really think of me. They’re saying Matt, you are such a conceited asshole. You wouldn’t come to our Purim Party. What kind of friend are you? And I thought to myself: What would Bono do? So I turned on my video camera. I kissed them all on the lips. And I made each of them practice squeezing my Erin go braugh. We got a great show for you tonight.
Valentine’s Day Monologue
Hey, it’s almost the end of January. You know what that means? The rent is due? Yes, besides that. It’s almost Valentine’s Day! Take her out to dinner. You know why you have to take her out to dinner on Valentine’s Day? Because it’s too cold to barbecue. What else are you going to do?
I always send valentines to all my ex-girlfriends. Because the restraining order says there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that.
So all the restaurants have Valentine’s Day specials. And they serve all the dishes that two people in love would want:
Lobster bisque with two straws.
A veal cutlet shaped like cupid.
But you can’t focus on the food. All you’re thinking about is what’s going to happen after dinner. You ask the waiter: Excuse me, what kind of wine goes with sodomy? Can you help me with that?
You know who Saint Valentine was? In ancient Rome, he was arrested and imprisoned for trying to marry Christian couples. Which was the first example of an attempted three-way.
So in honor of Valentine’s Day, we have a new audience game for you. The name of the game is YOU CALL THAT ROMANTIC? It’s really easy. And if you score well, you can get credits toward Law School. In case your career isn’t working out as well as mine is. So I’m just going to announce things you would do for your girlfriend, your boyfriend, your significant other, on Valentine’s Day. And you tell me if they’re romantic. Okay? Here we go.
Item 1. Make your girlfriend breakfast in bed. Is that romantic?
Okay, how about: Ask your girlfriend if she’d like to get in bed with the couple next door.
Take your special someone out to dinner in Paris. Is that romantic?
Okay, how about: Take her out to dinner in New Jersey.
Knit your girlfriend a sweater. Would you find that romantic?
Okay, how about: Pull off your girlfriend’s sweater.
Leave a trail of rose petals from the front door to the bedroom. Is that romantic?
Okay, how about: Have sex with the florist.
Make your girlfriend an original valentine with construction paper and paste just like you did in second grade. Is that romantic?
Okay, how about: Write her name on the bathroom wall in an elementary school.
Leave a first edition of her favorite book of poetry in her briefcase. Is that romantic?
Leave some of those prescription drugs she really likes in her underwear drawer.
Take her for a horse and carriage ride through Central Park. Is that romantic?
Okay, how about: Take her on the subway to Off Track Betting.
Kitchen Monologue
So you know this guy Danny who wants to be my manager, you’ve seen him around? Curly hair, talks with a limp? Okay, make believe you know him.
Danny says to me if you want to get ahead in the business, you have to throw a dinner party. Invite all the most important people you know. They’ll see you’re a foodie. They like foodies, they’ll like you. I’m not really a foodie. I’m more of a drinkie and a druggie.
Danny says no, no, they’re not into that anymore. Everything is food, health, the rain forest. Reduce your carbon footprint. Like to a Size 8, which is considered good.
If they like your cooking, they’ll buy your screenplay, you’ll get a network show, you’ll get a three-picture deal with the Weinsteins. Really? I could get my picture taken with the Weinsteins? Tell me more.
If you give a great dinner party, the Weinsteins will hear about it. Every morning, they look on their I-Phone to see which dinner parties were good, which ones were sucky, and they read that entire report while they’re having oral sex on their treadmill.
“Hello Jerry? It’s the Weinsteins. Guess what we’re doing right now? Never mind. We heard about your pesto. You want to marry our daughter? Yuh, sure, we’ll make you a star later. First things first.”
I don’t have dinner parties. You want to have dinner at Fried’s, you bring your own take-out menu. I don’t provide those. Bring your own menu, use your own phone. When they deliver, use your own money. You want to order online? Bring your own computer.
But he’s telling me Jerry, this is what is holding you back. You have to cook dinner for people. You have to serve people dinner. You have to help people to burp afterward. This is what successful people do.
But I can’t use my microwave. It’s stuck on baked potato. I can’t do anything else with it.
No, no, you don’t cook with a microwave. You’re a professional. You have to get a Bertazzoni stove. Six thousand dollars. It’s what Mario Goldberg uses. You don’t know Mario Goldberg? The star of Eat Me or I’ll Poison You?
Where do I go to get a Bertazzoni? Can I get that at Duane Reade? I only shop at Duane Reade. If they don’t have it there, I don’t need it.
No. It has to be a Bertazzoni. Call Bertazzoni and tell them you want a Bertazzoni. So the guy comes over to install it. And he says you know I never installed a Bertazzoni in a kitchen that had a bunk bed in it.
Danny says I have to become a locavore. That’s where you only eat stuff that’s been made within a hundred miles. Like toast. Toast is made in New York. Everything else is suspect.
You can only eat food that’s been grown within a hundred miles. You know what grows on West 29th Street? E coli. Salmonella. The herpes virus.
He said Jerry, you have to serve food that’s in season. You mean like corn flakes? No. This is not the season for corn flakes.
You’re not allowed to eat tomatoes in February. You have to wait until June. But they’ll be rotten by then. It doesn’t Jerryer. You can’t eat tomatoes in February.
You have to buy your food at the farmer’s market. Go down to Union Square. So I’m waiting in line at the farmer’s market. And this guy next to me says, “You come here often?” He doesn’t believe in bars. He’s trying to pick me up at a farmer’s market.
He says, “I don’t just talk about being a locavore. I shop at the farmer’s market.” I said that’s great, please screw off. Because I believe in being polite.
He says, “I don’t just shop at the farmer’s market. I actually talk with the all the farmers.”
I said I have sex with all the farmers. I don’t need you.
What am I supposed to cook? I don’t know how to cook. Danny says make chicken. You know what’s good about chicken? It tastes just like chicken.
So I get a chicken and I just throw it in the Bertazzoni, right? No, no, wrong. You can’t just make chicken. It has to be chicken with something. Like a beer?
No, it has to be a dish. You have to make like chicken with leeks and a white wine reduction. You know how to make a white wine reduction, don’t you? Me? Not know how to make a white wine reduction? What do I look like, a sweathog?
I know what a white wine reduction is. It means like 10% percent off on the wine, right?
Everybody likes a good reduction. On the way home from the party that’s what everybody is going to be saying in the car. That Fried. He really knows how to make a reduction. Whatever you’ve got, he can reduce it for you.
So now I have to buy leeks? I don’t know a good leek from a bad leek. Can I get those at Duane Reade?
I don’t know how to cook. Are you going to give me a recipe or something? No, no. Real men don’t use recipes. They feel it. They smell it. They taste it. They spit it out.
So I throw the chicken and the leeks and the white wine reduction into the Bertazzoni. At eight o’clock, the Bertazzoni goes Ding, the food is ready. And nobody shows up. None of the important people. 8:30, still nobody.
Finally at nine o’clock, the doorbell rings. It’s the Weinsteins. “We heard you were trying to marry our daughter and we don’t like it. If you don’t serve us a perfect home-cooked meal, we’re going to force you to be in one of our crappy movies.”
So I threw the dried-out chicken and the leeks and the white wine reduction at the Weinsteins and I told them if they want a home-cooked meal, they can go home and cook it!
We got a great show for you tonight.
Non-Current Events Jokes
You like this
dress? I found it in a magazine. Yuh, somebody had wrapped it up in an
old Newsweek and threw it in the garbage.
Today I drove into a feminist gas station. The attendant walked up to my car and said, "Fill him up?" I said, "Yuh, and look under his hood, will ya'? I can never get him to turn over in the morning, I don't know what the problem is."
I was going over all my papers at home. And you know what? I sure could use a paperclip.
I had an appointment to get my watch fixed. But I missed it.
I saw Superman at the supermarket on Friday. I see him there every Friday. I think he's superstitious.
I had this 6-month old dog, and I wanted to get some dog pictures. But the dog insists on shooting landscapes. He refuses to photograph me.
I got a new health insurance plan. $2,000 deductible. Which means if you have one heart attack, the second one is free.
I used to run three miles every day to work. Then I got my toilet fixed.
I had a friend who's become this world expert on sports medicine. Any time you have a really bad headache, he takes a soccer ball and rubs it all over the back of your neck.
I actually went to a singles bar once. Couldn't buy a drink. They only accept one-dollar bills.
When you go out for brunch now, you can't just eat eggs. You have to have a drink with it. I said, "Two eggs please." And the waitress said "Bloody Mary?" I said "How do you do. I'm Sweaty Betty."
I can always spot a woman basketball player walking to work. You know how? They're always wearing high heels. As soon as they get to work, they switch to sneakers.
We had a party at the office and said goodbye to this guy who had been with the company for 35 years. He wasn't leaving. We were just sick of him and we wanted to say goodbye.
My parents used to always say that our Aunt Ann treated her husband "like dirt." She treats him just like dirt. So I go over to their house one day and she's sticking tomato seeds into my uncle and pouring water on him. It was terrible.
My father was
filling out an insurance form, and inn the box where they ask your
occupation, he put in "Deceased." I said to him What did you do that
for? And he said "This way, that form will never be out of date."