Rodney Carrington: Here Comes the Truth

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1

[announcer] Ladies and gentlemen, the next

president of the United States of America:

Rodney Carrington!

[cheering]

How are you?

Hi, everybody.

[whistling, cheering]

Do not adjust your glasses.

I'm this goddamn fat, alright?

[laughter]

I... I used to look at fat people and go,

"How in the hell did you let yourself

get like that?"

And then I just went out

and found out for myself.

I got divorced about four years ago.

And you don't know how important it is

to have somebody in your life,

around eight or nine o'clock at night,

to say, "Don't eat that."

"You do not need to be eating

chocolate cake this time of night."

Because when you live by yourself

like I do,

and you buy cake, put it in the kitchen...

I'm watching TV at night,

the only thing I can think about

is how there's a cake in my damn kitchen.

There's a cake in my kitchen.

When you live by yourself

you don't need a plate.

You've just got to get a fork.

[laughter]

And you'll eat half, and go, "Well, f***,

I'm here." And you eat the other half.

And three months later

you're in drawstring britches.

[laughter]

When you go to buy jeans and they go,

"What size?" you go, "42, 16."

[laughter]

Those are capri pants for fat girls.

When you lean down to pull your boots on

and you black out, like, "What the f***?"

[laughter]

...you have to start addressing sh*t.

I cannot remember the last time that

I physically washed my feet with my hands.

I just pour shampoo on them

and go like that.

[laughter]

You know, I'm just not that motivated

right now, folks.

When you get married and, I don't know,

when you get divorced,

whoever tells you they take half...

they get it all.

If you live in this state

they get every bit of it.

I'm just letting you know.

My kids say, "Get a girlfriend."

Are you crazy?

I'm still paying for the last one.

If somebody came to me and went,

"You want p*ssy, or mac and cheese?"

I'd go, "F***...

I'm gonna go with mac and cheese."

[laughter]

It's just less work, you know?

P*ssy is just exhausting.

Isn't it? I mean, I like it,

don't get me wrong.

I just don't like what it's attached to,

90 percent of the time.

[laughter, whooping]

That was the problem with my ex-wife.

I liked it, she didn't care for it.

I tried to get her to eat it

in the hot tub one time, and...

she wouldn't touch it.

I don't blame her.

It's gamey. Tastes like duck.

[laughter]

Doesn't it? You're like:

"What the f***? I can't tell.

What does it taste like?

Seagull or some sh*t? I can't tell."

[laughter]

That's why we eat it in the dark.

You know that, right?

Because if they saw us,

they would see us going,

"Oh, f***! How long

do I got to do this sh*t?"

And they're like, "It's wet, isn't it?"

You're like, "Yeah."

[laughter]

"Yeah, it's wet because I'm

not swallowing this sh*t."

You breathe...

you breathe through your mouth.

It's the same technique you use

to pick up dog sh*t.

[laughter]

Isn't it?

When you pick up, you go,

"Oh, sh*t, oh, f***."

That's going to be a topic of conversation

on the way home.

[female voice] "Do you hold your breath

when you lick my p*ssy?"

[male voice] "F***ing Rodney,

God damn it!"

"Do you hold your breath

when you lick my p*ssy?"

"Well, hell, mid-week,

I've got to go back to work.

I don't need that sh*t on my breath."

[laughter]

"But if it's Saturday and I'm hammered

I'll lick your butt. I don't give a f***."

[laughter]

You go down there like a trucker.

[gargles]

That's the time you're glad that

p*ssy juice don't have purple dye in it.

Saturday night, you look like a clown.

[laughter]

"Have you been eating p*ssy?

It's all over your goddamn face."

[he sighs]

I'm not that motivated.

I don't have to worry.

Not a lot of women are going, "I want

to f*** that fat little son of a b*tch."

[laughter]

Except another fat little son of a b*tch.

Which, by the way, are fun to f***.

Now that old Rod's a fatty, I've had to...

well, you know, I've had a few fatties.

I was with this girl one night.

She was about 180. Real good-looking.

Five-two. One-eighty.

[laughter]

She's sitting on top of me

and she puts her hand on my forehead,

and leans over and presses,

and I'm like, "What the f***?"

She goes, "I am going

to f*** the sh*t out of you."

I said, "I hope you do."

She goes, "I am going to tear

your little dick off with my vagina."

I said, "I dare you."

[laughter]

And she got to rocking back and forth.

And she had shaved all her sh*t,

but it was about two weeks earlier.

[laughter]

Yeah.

She had, like, a sailor beard

going on down there.

And it was rubbing against my stomach.

I'm like, "Whoa, slow the f*** down.

You're going to start a friction fire."

[laughter]

"You're going to burn a hole

in my goddamn stomach.

I need some Neosporin. I can barely keep

a hard-on, it's burning so much.

My leg has been asleep for 15 minutes.

Use the stirrups every now and then."

[laughter]

"I'm going to get some Neosporin,

and when I come back, I'm on top, chubby."

[laughter]

I was down here about two nights ago,

drinking with one of my buddies.

It's one of them bars where you sit

at the bar and see yourself in the mirror.

Get drunker as the night goes on.

And this drunk Christian woman

walked up to me.

Because there's a bunch in this town.

[laughter]

A lot of drunk Christian women.

She walked up to me

and introduced herself like this: "Hey!"

[hiccups]

"I know you.

I hope you're happy.

I hope you're happy

with those sick-ass jokes you tell,

because one of these days

you're going to meet your maker."

I couldn't tell if she was serious because

I run into a lot of drunk sons of b*tches.

But it dawned on me real quick

that she was serious.

She sat down and told me one of these days

I was going to meet my maker.

I told her I was encouraged,

because I thought I might be going

straight to hell.

[laughter]

I had no idea I was going to get

a chance to explain myself.

Because I feel like I can talk my way

out of anything, given a damn chance.

Then she told me

how upset God was with me,

and I said, "How could I be so wrong,

if I was his idea?"

I'm not my fault.

Do you ever think that maybe God got tired

of stamping out the same old sh*t,

and thought, "Tonight, I'm going

to make something weird"?

[laughter]

When he was putting me together, he was

using different kinds of ingredients.

He had on big rubber gloves,

and it was late one night.

He was in his laboratory, somebody walked

in and interrupted him: "Hey, God."

And I got loose.

He went, "F***! Get that."

[laughter]

"It's got half a brain

and I didn't put a dick on it."

[laughter]

"If it gets loose, it will hate itself."

Imagine how long the damn line is,

to meet your maker.

"Has that f***er let anybody in yet?

I've been here four hours.

The line hasn't moved."

That's going to be

an anxiety-ridden line, isn't it?

Standing in that son of a b*tch.

Good God!

"What's wrong?"

"I've got to sh*t."

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