Steve Rannazzisi: Breaking Dad

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(Steve)

Focus. Relax.

Focus. Come on.

Nothing else is bothering you.

There's no one else here.

[hard rock music]

[baby crying]

Mommy, I'm peeing!

Just you and the audience.

Hot wife

or supportive wife?

I just have to concentrate.

- Whatever.

- Here we go, buddy.

It's go time.

Ugh!

All right.

How about a "good luck"?

What do you think?

Oh!

Oh-ho!

Oh, you're evil.

(man)

Ladies and gentlemen,

please help me welcome

the one and only

Mr. Steve Rannazzisi!

[cheers and applause]

Thank you very much, Boston.

Thank you very, very, very much.

How's everybody doing up there?

You guys good?

Excellent.

Excellent.

Thank you. Thank you.

Thank you guys very much.

Thank you.

Thanks for coming out.

Lot of couples

I see in the front row.

Date-night people.

Weekend date nights.

You guys are pros.

Good job.

You did it right.

You got dressed up.

You took her out on a weekend.

Probably sweating right now,

wishing you were at home.

But you did the right thing.

You're professionals.

Weekday date-night people,

those are the couples

that I like to hang out with.

You get to see the greatest

couples in the world

on the weekdays,

couples who hate each other.

The old, grizzled veterans.

I love it.

It's my favorite thing to do.

I just watch them.

They just sit there

and stare at each other like,

"Oh. Isn't this great?

I love you."

Now modern technology's

changed that, though.

Now they have, like,

other things to do.

Like, the waiter will come over,

take their order,

then walk away.

He pulls out his phone.

He starts playingCandy Crush

with the sound on.

She's gotFifty Shades of Grey

on an e-book, reading it.

She's, "Mm,

this is interesting."

We had a date night

not too long ago.

It was a great,

great date night.

Great dinner.

Good conversation.

Went home. We were

having sex with each other.

And--that's not the funny part.

That's normal.

That's what we do.

Date nights for married people

is scheduled sex.

That's really what it is.

So we were doing it,

and it was one

of those sexual sessions

where, in the middle,

I, like, had this

out-of-body experience

where I was, like,

talking to myself,

and I was like, "Dude, you're

doing really good right now.

Like, she is super into this."

Like, it's almost like a pitcher

pitching a perfect game.

I was like, "All right,

don't talk to yourself.

"Don't [bleep] this up.

Just stay on target."

You know, I thought that the

chicken parm I ate for dinner

would have slowed me down.

It didn't, guys.

It carb-loaded me.

It pushed me further.

Then we were done.

We high-five each other,

like we do.

"Yeah. Good job."

Went to bed.

And then in the middle

of the night, I was like--

I had that feeling of,

"I want to do that again."

Like, I think

that I can accomplish

that level of joy again.

So I was like, "All right."

I tap my wife on the shoulder.

"Babe! Babe!"

She wakes up.

She's like, "What?

What is it? The kids?"

And I was like,

"Nah. It's this dick!"

[cheers and applause]

She was like, "What?"

And I was like, "Oh"--

it's the first time.

I was like, "Oh, maybe she's

not as excited about this dick

as I am."

So I was like,

"Eh! What about this dick?"

And she's like,

"We did it. It was great.

"Thank you very much.

It was so good.

"I'll see you next Wednesday.

You're the love of my life.

Thank you."

Then I got a little depressed.

I was like, "Oh."

Man.

We used to do it multiple times.

I don't know--

why don't we do that anymore?

Like, what slowed us down?

And the only thing

I could think of

is, really, just space.

Like, physical space.

We used to live in a

350-square-foot apartment.

We'd just stand

and stare at each other.

No other distractions,

nothing.

I mean, we slept in a twin bed.

Every night

we'd just roll over,

and sometimes I would

just be inside of her.

I didn't even know why.

It was likeTetris.

It was like that piece--

"That's where that fits. Okay.

We'll worry

about the rest later on."

That was it.

Now we sleep on a California

king Tempur-Pedic.

Yeah!

We have sex. We're done.

We high-five each other.

I roll over three times.

I'm in my own hemisphere.

I could probably

have sex with somebody else

on my side of the bed;

she wouldn't even know about it

unless I told her.

That's the Tempur-Pedic

commercial I want to see,

by the way.

You know?

[bleep] that wine glass

going up and down.

I want to see one dude just

[bleep] drilling somebody else

where he was like--

"I'm with stupid" T-shirt.

You'd sell a sh*t-ton

of beds that way.

Plus we got two kids.

So if you have kids,

you need a big bed.

You do.

Because by 6:
00 in the morning,

my sh*t looks

like a Haitian float.

There's, like,

ten people hanging on.

Half of them are naked.

Smells like piss everywhere.

There's crumbs of food

on the ground.

Speaking of floats

and rafts,

my favorite story from last year

is still the Rob Konrad story.

And maybe some of you

know about it, but--

Rob Konrad used to be

a professional football player

for a couple of years.

He played for Miami.

Then he retired.

And he lives in Florida,

in Miami,

with his wife and his kids.

And last year, he was fishing

about ten miles

off the shore of Miami,

and as he's fishing--

he's by himself--

a rogue wave comes

and knocks him off the boat

and then capsizes

the whole boat.

So now this guy's

in the middle of the ocean,

6:
00 at night,

in a life vest.

No boat.

No one's around.

So what does this guy do?

He swims nine miles

back to the shore of Miami

in the dark, in the ocean,

at night.

Nine [bleep] miles.

I have no comprehension of what

that must have felt like.

I'm gonna--let me ask you

a question, okay?

You're put in

the exact same situation, sir.

How many miles do you

think you make it? Honestly.

Be honest with yourself and

all the people that are here.

- A quarter mile.

- Did you say a quarter mile?

[laughter and applause]

A quarter mile's very honest.

A quarter mile is--yes.

That's an honest answer, sir.

That's like not

giving up too soon,

but you're like,

"I'm gonna give it an effort,

but there's no [bleep] way

I'm making it to the beach."

Here's how far I would make it.

I would swim until

something grazed my foot--

a sea creature--

and then I would just be like,

"Click, click, click, click.

Blub, blub, blub, blub."

Right to the bottom

of the [bleep] ocean.

Done.

Done!

Sea creatures

touching my feet?

No, thank you!

If someone else's foot

touches mine in a hot tub,

I'll barf everywhere.

I'll [bleep] a hot tub party up.

I'll ruin it.

Nine miles in the ocean!

During the night!

Swam!

Came up on shore

at 6:
00 in the morning.

Walked onto the shore.

Just came out of the water.

Which I hope was the night

where some high school kids

were taking acid

and decided to come down,

just hanging out at the beach.

Like, "Right, PJ?

"This is the greatest

night ever, right, man?

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