Jim Norton: Mouthful of Shame Page #7

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So, we had on shorts and tank tops,

so we couldn't put stuff down our shorts.

So, we were taking the action figures out

of the package

and kind of walking up

to the front of the store and hiding them,

and at the end of the day,

we were gonna scoop a bunch

and just run out the door.

So, security sees us at one point,

takes us downstairs.

And he says,

"What the f*** are you guys doing?!"

We're like, "We didn't do anything."

And then he looks at the bulge

in my friend's pants,

and he goes, "What have you got in there?"

Again, I knew my friend had a big dick,

so it didn't surprise me

that the security guard thought he had

a couple of Chewbaccas and a Vader.

I got it.

He looked at my shorts

and knew there were no stolen figures.

Maybe a Yoda.

So, my friend's like,

"I don't have anything."

And the security guard goes, "Let me see."

So, my friend pulls his shorts aside,

and this gift of a cock rolls out.

Have you ever seen a cock roll out?

It was like watching

time-lapse photography of a flower.

It was like watching a cinnamon bun

in reverse, on how it's made.

It actually made, like, a little noise.

I'm trying to remember the noise it made

when it hit the chair,

'cause it was a plastic chair.

Have you heard a ham dropped on linoleum?

And it's a surreal moment in my childhood.

We were all just kind of looking

at my friend's big stupid dick.

And then the security guard looks at me,

and he goes, "Wait outside."

Sends me outside. So, I'm outside

the security office 15 minutes.

He comes out, puts his head out the door,

doesn't even open it all the way.

He goes, "All right,

I've decided not to call your mother.

Now get the f*** out of here

and don't come back.

I gotta talk to your friend for a while."

And he closes the door.

I walk out that side door.

I wipe it from my memory.

Something sparks it this year,

and the whole day comes flooding back,

and I'm like, "Oh, no. Oh, you idiot.

You never got the rest

of those Star Wars figures."

Thousands of dollars' worth

of merchandise.

And I never would've got caught

'cause the security guard was busy choking

on my friend's giant dick.

So, that's the type of stuff I talk about,

and I wonder why I can't find a gal.

I wouldn't mind a girlfriend

at this point.

I really have been single for five years,

and at this point, I don't even know

where to go to meet women.

I sincerely don't.

I don't know what women want.

We all think we know.

You know, dressing a certain way.

Obviously, I'm not a great dresser.

Do you like my shoes, by the way?

[cheers and applause]

Yeah! Yeah.

I mean, someone told me

these Yeezys are fake.

I don't think they're fake,

'cause if they are,

somebody owes me 20 bucks.

I don't even what women want.

What do women--

I'll ask you as women,

what is it you look for in a guy?

-[woman] Humor.

-Humor. Okay.

I'll address this myth.

I think women think they're supposed

to say "humor."

"I love a funny guy." No, you don't.

No, you don't. 'Cause if you asked me,

"What kind of women do you like?"

I'll be like, "Intelligent."

It's nice, but it's not number one

on the list.

Believe me,

if you have fat enough nipples,

I don't care if you eat paint chips

for breakfast...

and f***ing bang your head

into a screen door

like Rain Man when the toast is burning.

But sense of humor--

Like, I'm a funny guy.

Being a funny guy

has never, ever helped me get laid.

Here's the only time

that being funny has helped me get laid:

When a woman's only other option

is a guy who looks like me

who isn't funny.

Then it will kind of get you the nod.

Like, "All right."

It's never enthusiastic.

Like, "Oh, my God. You're really--"

[grunting]

It's always a kind of a default.

It's never overcome good looks.

No one's ever looked at me and went,

"Ah, I don't know.

That guy's six-foot-three.

He's got a great body. He's a triathlete.

But the little fella--

his anecdotes will have me in stitches

the entire evening.

Come on, big boy.

Slam your face into my p*ssy

and do some knock-knock jokes."

And I'm a good guy to date

'cause I'm a dirty guy.

I figure women would like a guy like me.

Like, I love giving oral sex

to women more than I like anything.

And I like-- I mean, immediately.

I go right down there.

And I like things on women

that you don't even like on yourselves.

Every special,

I talk about liking a bigger p*ssy.

I like an untraditional vagina.

A cock. No, I'm kidding.

I like the type of vagina

that a woman is self-conscious about.

You remember in high school, if you had

to keep your crotch in the locker

'cause all the other girls were cruel

and they'd walk by--

"Hey, it's Big P*ssy McGillicuddy"

or whatever they'd say.

And I've learned a lot about what's sexy

and what's not sexy.

Don't talk when you're going down

on a woman.

There's nothing sexy you're gonna say

when you're giving her head.

If a girl's going down on you and she's

like, "I love sucking your cock,"

that's kind of sexy to hear.

But there's nothing you're gonna say

when you're going down on a woman

that's gonna make her happier

than what you're doing.

I had a girl tell me that one time

her boyfriend was eating her p*ssy,

and he stopped, and he looked up

and he went, "Mmm. You taste scrumptious."

It's actually sexier

when you're eating p*ssy

if you look up and go,

"ISIS beheads people."

One thing I hate: I hate using my fingers.

That's the only thing I don't like,

when a girl's like,

"Put your fingers in me."

'Cause I have little hands,

and every time I put my fingers in,

I never quite get to where--

I just barely can touch the bottom

of the G-spot.

And they're always like,

"A little deeper."

"But the webbing."

[groaning]

I gotta take my left arm

and push the right one.

[groaning]

And one of my closest friends

was Patrice O'Neal.

You know Patrice.

[cheers and applause]

And it's funny. Patrice would annoy me,

'cause he would always brag

about how great he was at finger-popping.

But Patrice would always brag

about finger-popping,

and I watched him one time in Brazil

make a girl squirt using his fingers.

'Cause Patrice had fingers

like ballerina legs.

I was in one bed with my girl.

He was in one with his.

And he was like, whap, whap, whap,

and she would squirt.

[squirting sound]

And then my girl is squirting,

but out of her eyes,

watching the other--

And I'm doing the best I can,

but I just couldn't--

My fingers were like two polio legs

in a swimming pool.

The girl finally got annoyed

and just pushed my hand out.

"All right, Peter Dinklage fingers.

F***ing--"

I really don't know where

to meet the women.

After that bit,

I don't expect to meet a lot of you.

I'm on the social media apps.

I use Tinder. Anybody else use Tinder?

[woman] Whoo!

The woman who said "whoo,"

how long did it take you to meet somebody?

-Just yell out the number.

-I'm married.

You're married. Oh, good.

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