Dirty Grandpa Page #3

I'll miss her

every goddamn day.

But she told me

on her deathbed,

"You get back

out there again."

I haven't had sex

in 15 years, Jason,

and I want to f***,

f***, f***, f***, f***!

So that's what

this is all about?

This whole thing. You

didn't want to be with me.

You wanted me

to drive you down to Boca

so I could be your

f***ing wingman?

Well, obviously

I made a bad decision

because you're nothing but

a cock-blocking machine.

I don't know what you are.

You're like the Israeli

Iron Dome defense system,

but with vaginas

instead of missiles.

- What?

- You're like some sort of

Cock-blocking Terminator

sent back from the future

to cock-block humans.

The robots

should have sent you

instead of

Arnold Schwarzenegger,

you could have cock-blocked

John Connor's parents

and he would never

have been born!

Shut up, Grandpa!

- Shut up!

- What got into you?

I remember you

in high school,

you were ripping

people's d*cks off

on the football field,

talking about

traveling the world!

Now you're pushing some

papers at a f***ing law firm

and probably

peeing sitting down.

Grandpa, I don't know

what you thought

this weekend

was going to be about,

but I came here

for one reason,

to get you to Boca.

That's it.

Fine.

Now can I please

play some golf?

- F***ing golf.

- Okay.

Cocky McBlockerson.

What the f***?

Bam!

Who does your taxes?

H&R Cock-block?

Stop it.

Bam!

Are you still Jenny

from the cock-block?

What the f***! What is your

obsession with my ass?

Your vibrator's on.

You can't get

into it anyway

because you don't

know my code.

Looks like your grandpa

remembered your birthday!

What? Give me that!

We're going

to f***ing Daytona.

We're not

going to Daytona,

because I've got

the keys to the golf cart.

What are you doing?

Hey.

How'd you do that?

Coming or staying,

Jack Dicklaus?

- Grandpa?

- Hurry up, Bubba Twatson.

Grandpa, stop.

Gary Player-with-my-balls.

Stop the cart!

Fred Couples-of-big-d*cks-

in-your-ass.

My God.

Grandpa! Stop!

Michelle

Wies-all-over-my-face.

Now, this is what

I'm f***ing talking about.

This is so f***ed up.

Calm down,

you'll get to hang out

with that gypsy girl

you like.

- I don't like her.

- Yes, you do.

That's why you didn't deny

being a photographer

for Time magazine.

You can hang out with her,

I can have

vaginal sex with Lenore.

It all works out!

We can even go visit

my old army buddy, Stinky.

Stinky?

Which tiki bar are they in?

Sh*t. Sh*t. Sh*t.

- What's that?

- It's Meredith.

Please,

I've got to answer that.

Tell her to f*** off.

Grandpa!

I'm just gonna check

the testosterone levels

on your phone first.

Grandpa, give me

my phone now!

Just as I thought.

Pretty low.

This is Meredith calling...

Sh*t!

Now, look what you did,

you dropped it

in the car's vagina.

God damn it,

I have to put it on speaker.

Don't say anything.

I will not say a word.

Ballbags!

Hey! Who was that?

No one. We're in a restaurant.

Sorry.

"Who's that?"

- What's up?

- Okay...

Well, I really want them

to post

our wedding announcement

on the New York Times website

before our rehearsal

brunch Friday,

so I just wanted to run

your section back to you.

Yeah, you know, now's

really not a good time...

Jason? Can we just

do this please?

"Can we do this now?"

"Jason Richard Kelly,

son of..."

"Doctor Smegma

Von BoxMunchers."

"David and Brooke,

"is a junior associate

at the law firm of..."

"Cream pie fart

and donkey punch!"

Okay, who is that?

It's no one. It's a waiter

with pretty bad Tourette's,

I think...

He just keeps walking by

yelling weird sh*t,

I don't know why...

Okay, well,

what restaurant are you at?

I can barely even

hear you now.

We're at

Chuck E. Cheese's...

Daytona f***ing Beach!

Daytona f***ing Beach!

You're right, buddy!

You're in Daytona Beach?

Listen, we're just driving

through Daytona Beach.

We're en route to Grandpa's...

Jason!

I don't know why you're there,

but you'd better call me

from your grandfather's house

when you get there

tonight, okay?

Of course, baby.

I love you so much...

- F***!

- Marriage is hard.

What'd the hot

college girls text back?

Grandpa, what are you

texting them?

I just texted them.

What are you texting them?

"We'll meet you on the beach."

Yeah, and I added the emoji

with the wink

and the tongue out.

I'm not kidding,

Grandpa.

You realize

that if I don't call her

from your house

in Boca tonight,

I'm f***ed, man,

I'm f***ed.

Jesus. Sounds like

you're marrying

your f***ing

parole officer.

It's just Meredith.

It's the way she is, man.

She just gets,

like, anxious

when she doesn't know

exactly where I am.

Don't panic.

It's organic.

Yeah, I know. Couples get

in fights all the time.

But it's different

with Meredith.

She takes it

to another level, man,

and I'm telling you,

if I don't call her

from your house in Boca,

I'm screwed.

Well, ain't nobody

got time for that.

Yeah, I know.

Clearly.

Which is why

I don't understand

how we got so far

off schedule.

...Sometimes

life is just a fart zone,

and you enter

at your own risk.

Have you been

reading sh*t

off the shot glasses

and the shirts in here

and just saying it

like it's wisdom?

I was seriously trying

to talk to you, man.

Do you realize

the stakes here?

You're ridiculous!

Smile.

You've had a phone

this entire f***ing time?

What else

don't I know about you?

How the hell do you know

how to speak Arabic?

Dad's never said

anything about that.

That's because your dad

doesn't really know

much about me.

I was away with the army

during most of his childhood.

So we were

never that close.

Is that why

he doesn't like you?

Anybody work here?

Okay, everybody

on the f***ing floor!

This is a goddamn robbery!

On the f***ing ground!

My God,

you should see your faces!

I just left to grab lunch

and a new horse mask.

I left mine at the beach

the other day. Whoo!

I thought you were gonna

sh*t your pants, little guy.

Gun's real though.

What the f***, man!

Relax, this is Florida.

Everything's

a licensed gun range.

You just shot

through a wall, man!

- Hey...

- There's pedestrians outside!

Yeah, again, it's Florida!

These people don't matter.

- What?

- So?

Welcome to

Tam Pam Surf Slam.

What can I do for you

gentlemen? I'm Pam.

You're Pam?

Yeah. It's a nickname.

Real name's Pamela.

Hey, no, guys!

Absolutely not!

I will not ever sell you drugs

out of this establishment!

We didn't ask you

to sell us drugs.

Okay, cool.

You're not cops.

In which case,

welcome to drugs!

- My God.

- Now, I'm pretty cool,

So I only sell the stuff

that occurs naturally.

So I got weed, I got

mushrooms, I got meth.

- Meth?

- Yeah.

How is that natural?

Well, it occurs naturally

in my cousin's basement

in Baltimore,

if you know what I mean.

I'm taking this and this

because you shot at me.

I'm sorry.

I almost shot you.

What are you going to do, cry

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