Jim Norton: Mouthful of Shame Page #6

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-Were you in the house?

-Yeah, I had a bad dream.

-I walked into their room.

-You had a bad dream.

Oh, Christ. Then you walked

into a nightmare. That's nice.

That's the last thing you need

after a bad dream.

"Oh, I dreamt there was a ghost

under my bed.

Oh, terrific."

Now, you walked in.

-Were they in the bedroom?

-Yeah.

-Did they know that you saw them?

-Yeah.

Yes, they did.

Did they talk to you about it after?

It was obvious. No, my dad asked me

if I wanted hot chocolate.

Your dad asked

if you wanted hot chocolate.

Oh, no. They were having anal. Oh, no.

Well, that's what you need

after you catch your parents f***ing.

"Aah!" [popping sound]

"Let's have a cocoa."

Now, okay, so you had hot chocolate,

and they told you about what happened

and what it was?

No. Like, my parents--

I knew what it was when I walked in.

You knew what it was when you walked in.

Some people just don't talk about it.

It's just no eye contact

at the breakfast table until you're 18.

Like, "You want milk for your Cheerios?"

"No, I'll just f***ing cut it

with a fork and knife."

I know you kind of don't want

to think about it. I understand.

What position...

were they in?

It depends, is this gonna be aired?

Are they gonna know?

Is it gonna be aired? No!

No!

No.

No.

Why would we air it on a Netflix special?

Wow. Somebody's not very observant.

What did you think that was?

Did you think that was LeBron James' arm

taking a selfie?

Yeah, so, we don't know who you are,

we don't know who your parents are.

What position?

-Oh, you're really waiting for--

-I'm really waiting. Of course I am.

Please. You think that thing

just jumped up for no reason?

It's not dripping down my leg for nothing,

sweetie.

-I don't know. Just, like, regular.

-Regular. Missionary. Okay, cool.

Were Mom's legs wrapped around Dad?

Like, was she trying to keep in that seed?

Or were the legs wide open

'cause Dad was drilling that p*ssy...

so hard that her legs just shot open?

Thank you very much for sharing that

with us.

It's funny, people's reaction

when they catch their parents.

I've never caught my parents, thank God,

but you kind of know

when they're doing something.

I would always know my parents

were doing something

'cause it'd be in the middle

of the afternoon

and the bedroom door would be closed,

and then you'd just hear, like...

[squeaking]

And then the telltale...

[whirring]

of the Polaroid.

[squeaks, whirs]

And you knew they were almost finished

as it started getting faster.

And then you'd hear, "My eye burns!"

[whirring]

Then your mom

and three of your dad's coworkers

would walk out of the bedroom.

But some people--

Like, we talked, some parents--

some parents are just open-minded,

and they're more liberal about it.

My buddy Scott knew where

his mother's dildo collection was.

And we did not handle that information

responsibly.

As ten-year-old kids,

as soon as his parents left the house,

we would grab the d*ldos,

start sword-fighting with them.

We'd try to chase him

and shove them in his mouth.

I got one shoved in my mouth.

I had to pretend I didn't like it.

"Cut it out, guys!"

[groaning]

We used to throw them at his cat...

which I wouldn't do now,

but in 1979, that was Xbox.

That was all we had.

And I wish I had an iPhone back then.

What a great video that would've been,

just a cat under a sofa

with its ears back,

hissing at a pile of d*ldos.

[hissing]

And his mother must've wondered

why all her d*ldos

had scratch marks and cat hair on them.

She'd probably grab the cat

and smack his face.

"What were you doing with my d*ldos?"

I don't know if my mother has d*ldos

to this day.

I'm in my 40s. I have no idea.

When my parents die,

I'm not going through their sh*t.

I'm just going to take the dresser

and kick it into the front yard.

Let the homeless people take

whatever they want.

Maybe I'll look out the window

and see a homeless guy running away

with what is hopefully

a small white dildo.

That's all you can hope for.

You definitely don't want to see one

of those over-the-shoulder jobs.

Bouncing in the front and the back.

With two heads on it. "Oh, Mom."

Or "Oh, Mom and Dad. Ohh.

Oh, no. Mom and Dad were bookending."

Yeah, they were pretty normal people.

And I turned into such a dirtbag

and a dirty guy,

and I just-- I don't know.

I was always kind of antisocial.

You ever look back at your life

and realize,

"Wow, I was a f***ing antisocial

human being."

When I was 13,

I used to drink with my friends.

I stopped when I was very young,

but for the few years I did it,

I was a weirdo. Like, a real weirdo.

We used to get drunk at my friend's house,

and I wouldn't do fun drunk stuff.

I used to get drunk and then just go

into his family's bathroom

and urinate all over the sink handles

and, like, on the toothbrushes

and in the soap dish.

And here's the psychotic part.

I wouldn't even tell my other friends

I had done it.

When you're that young, no matter what

you do to make your friends laugh is okay.

But I didn't tell my friends.

I just kind of sat there,

just smirking

like a f***ing serial killer,

just thinking of his family

washing their face with my piss soap.

Like, what a f***ing creep.

And I've talked about this before

on the air.

The cat-- I would always take the cat,

and I would unroll his father's newspaper

and scoop all the cat sh*t out

of the litterbox

and put it in the newspaper

and then carefully roll it back up

and put it on the coffee table.

And to this day, I still think

I'm kind of a genius for having done that.

But I never got to see the results of it.

Like, if I had a time machine

and I could only use it once,

I wouldn't save Jesus.

I wouldn't stop World War II.

I'd go back to North Brunswick,

New Jersey, in 1979

just to watch that man

open his newspaper

and see his face as animal sh*t fell

on his lap.

You know how many times that cat

probably got beaten with a shoe?

And the cat can't articulate.

"Really? You think I took my own sh*t

and put it in a newspaper

and rolled it up carefully

like I'm f***ing hosting a cat prank show,

you dummy?"

You ever have memories come flooding back?

That happens sometimes, too.

I blocked a lot of sh*t out

when I was young.

And this one is not even traumatic.

It was just weird.

I was with my friend,

and we were stealing Star Wars figures.

They were the original

Star Wars figures.

Remember them?

They were, like, four inches tall,

and some of them are worth thousands

of dollars today

because they're ultra-rare.

So, it was one of my best friends.

He was a really good dude.

He had a huge dick.

And we're in a department--

I'm saying that for a reason.

I'm not just throwing--

That would be great

if I didn't go back to it for any reason.

"Did he elaborate on his friend's dick?"

"No, he just threw it out there

and smiled."

He was just the guy

that we all knew had a huge dick.

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