Eddie Murphy Raw Page #3

"I love it. Suck my dick, huh?

"Suck it, you black motherf***er.

"I love it. The best motherf***er.

The 'f*** you' man."

Made me stay in the house, man.

Almost got married last year.

Don't you "ooh" and "aah".

Got to get married in the '80s.

I read the papers.

I said, "F*** this, I'm getting out."

Hey, you know, read.

You can catch some sh*t.

You can't just keep messing around

like you used to.

Eventually, your dick will fall off.

Remember...? Remember, like,

VD in the '60s?

That sh*t don't just sting no more.

Every time they cure something,

it come back stronger.

VD is new and improved now.

They got dudes in the doctor's office

with symptoms like, "Excuse me, doc,

"what does it mean when you

go to the bathroom

"and fire shoot out your dick?"

"Let me get this right.

So you're getting a burning sensation

"when you urinate?"

"No, fire shoot out my dick, is all.

"A burst of flame fly out my dick

when I pee.

"I can't even pee in the house, I burn

my house down. I gotta go outside.

"I was outside peeing,

dude tried to mug me,

"I turned around and burned him up

on the street.

"Because my dick is a blowtorch,

is what I'm trying to say."

Got to be careful.

They say having casual sex nowadays

is like playing Russian roulette.

And I know I've thrown my dick

on the crap table many a night.

Looking for Miss Right,

you be gambling every time.

You gambling with your dick, saying,

"Come on, need a woman with a mind.

"Come on, now. I need somebody

perfect for me. Give it to me, now!

"Oh, sh*t. Fat, bucktoothed b*tch.

No, give me my dick back. No.

"I'm gonna keep rolling.

I got one more roll in me.

"I want the perfect woman, now.

I want somebody with a mind,

"intelligence, a nice ass and a body.

Give it to me, now!

"Oh, skinny cockeyed b*tch.

No, give my dick back.

"Give my dick back.

Now, listen, be quiet.

"I'm gonna keep rolling.

This is my last roll.

"This is the last one.

This is the one for me.

"Miss Right. Blow on this for luck.

"This is my last roll.

Come on. Here we go.

"Give it to me, now!

Oh, sh*t. Herpes. I crapped out.

"My dick is f***ed up.

My dick is ruined."

So be careful. Get married.

I went out and found

the perfect woman.

Nineteen years old. Beautiful face.

A virgin. Nobody ever f***ed her.

And had an ass like this:

And her legs are like:

Her titties are like:

She was so fine. She's one

of the people that's so fine,

when you see them,

they make you ugly.

You be like, "Goddamn,

who is that motherf***er?"

She was fine.

I went, I cut all my girls off.

I said, "That's it, I'm getting married.

This is it. Gonna be me and her."

I was so happy. And I went out

and I went shopping.

And I was waiting on the line

and I saw the Enquirer magazine

while I was waiting on the line

and I saw Johnny Carson

on the front page.

There was a picture of him like this:

Then I said, "What's up with Johnny?"

I turned to the inside story

and his wife was on the other page

and she was like this:

And over her head it said, "Johnny's

wife wants half Johnny's money."

I turned that sh*t back to Johnny.

Then I started thinking about it.

Half.

lf you... lf you have $5

and have to give somebody

$2.50, you'd be upset.

Johnny had to have

at least 300 million.

And have to give up $1 50 million?

And they wasn't even married

but ten years.

And $1 50 million? Get...

Give me a f***ing break.

What...? What...?

And ladies... Now, here's a woman

right here saying, "Right on."

Baby, that's not fair.

Not no 1 50 million.

I see a lot of you ladies going:

"Get all the money you can, sh*t.

I'm glad she did get all that money.

"She earned it. She earned it.

That... You damn right.

"She was married to him,

she deserved that money."

Get the f*** out of my face

with that bullshit.

No. Stop it.

No, don't get me wrong.

lf you marry somebody

and neither one of you have anything

and you build 300 million together,

you deserve half.

But Johnny was 300 million in

when they met.

And I'm quite sure she knew.

Johnny says, "Hey, I'm Johnny."

She was like, "I know who you are,

motherf***er."

And they got married, broke up,

sh*t didn't work out.

And then he had to give her

$1 50 million of his money.

I know a lot of housewives

sitting out there going:

"You can't put a price on what I do."

But, ladies, if you marry a man

with $300 million,

you ain't no regular housewife. You

ain't got to clean the house no more.

You get a maid.

You ain't cleaning sh*t!

You marry a man with $300 million,

you ain't cooking. You're eating out.

You marry... You know how a lot of

housewives gotta get jobs on the side

to help make ends meet?

He got 300 million, the ends

are meeting like a motherf***er.

What you gonna do, get a job at

a boutique on the weekends and sh*t?

And say, "Here, Johnny.

I made $ 70, put that with the rest.

"Now we have $300 million and 70.

"Because I want to do my share."

No.

All you have to do, you marry

a man with $300 million,

is f*** your husband.

That's it! That's your job.

F*** your husband! That's it.

That's... Just f*** your husband.

You fill out a W-2,

they say, "What you do?"

You say, "I f*** my husband."

That's it.

And I've had my share of p*ssy.

I have yet...

Even if the p*ssy was great

and sparks shot out

the woman's ass

and cannons blared

and the mountains crumbled

and the seas roared,

no p*ssy is worth $1 50 million!

No p*ssy.

I'd like to meet some p*ssy like that.

Put the sh*t on layaway.

That sh*t scared the sh*t out of me.

Half? I was petrified.

Man, you know what's real scary

is that American women in the '80s

have become very business-conscious.

Y'all the most resourceful

and the most business-smart

women on the planet. Now, in the '80s.

And it would be an asset to us,

as American men,

if you weren't so vindictive.

Because the two don't match.

Then, what's really f***ed up,

is y'all the most loving people.

American women

are all off into this romance

and they genuinely

fall in love with you.

Now, love and money do not mix.

The sh*t don't mix.

Especially if you got

a business-smart woman...

You go up and say, "I never met

anybody like you before."

"I never met anyone like you."

"Why don't we be together."

"Will you marry me?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

"Before we get married, why don't

you sign this prenuptial agreement."

"What do you mean,

a prenuptial agreement?"

"That's a contract that stipulates

if we ever break up,

"you take what you had

and I take what I had."

"First of all, I don't give a f*** who

you are and what you have, OK?

"You got a lot of motherfucking nerve

by asking me to sign a contract.

"There's nothing a man can do

for me that I can't do for myself.

"You got a whole lot of...

I love you.

"Telling me to sign a contract

to show that I love you?

"lf I need something, I can go to my

family. My family takes care of me."

And men hear all that sh*t

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