Oh, Jesus Christ.
I'm pretty healthy.
I have to work out during the day
because I can't sleep.
I have a horrible insomnia.
And everybody I tell this to,
they always ask me the same question.
They go, have you tried warm milk?
No, I haven't for a couple reasons.
Number one, it's not 1966 anymore.
Number two, I'm not a * three-day-old kitten.
Have I tried warm milk?
Yeah, I saw a lady breastfeeding at the mall today.
I went up to her, I said,
I noticed you have one open.
Next thing you know, I'm out like a light
in front of the yarn barn for two and a half hours.
Warm milk.
I'd rather be up here ten years straight
than drink warm milk.
Who likes the taste of warm milk?
Brand new babies and gay guys, right?
Exactly.
Fellas, no offense, all right?
I see you're giving me the stink eye.
You're a couple of handsome fellas up front.
You've both got over-tight shirts on,
but let's go with it, huh?
Let's play.
I'm just, uh...
I got more gay friends than Kelly Ripper.
I'm in show business, for Christ's sake.
Don't, uh...
* warm milk.
My buddy goes, have you tried chamomile tea?
How gay a suggestion is that coming out of a guy?
I go, why don't you just suck my *?
I'll pass on in about three minutes.
Dave.
Dave.
Chamomile tea.
All the cures for insomnia are very effeminate.
Have you tried rubbing yogurt on your taint
while you're doing a word scramble?
There's no macho cures, you know?
Nobody ever goes, have you tried snorting Valium,
drinking Jack Daniels, and jerking off twice?
As a matter of fact, I haven't.
I'm still tossing into it.
I'm still turning at night.
That's why I don't think a bottle of Yoo-Hoo
at room temperature is gonna do the trick.
Have you tried chamomile tea?
I mean, what are you, shitting me?
So, I'm up all night, folks.
I'm exhausted.
I'm watching infomercials from, uh...
from midnight till the sun comes up.
I haven't memorized.
I know more about Cindy Crawford's oily skin
than her * doctor does at this point.
Cindy wants us to believe
she couldn't get laid in high school
because she had a greasy forehead.
Imagine an 18-year-old Cindy Crawford,
how * hot she was.
I just picture a couple of fat guys in the locker room.
Hey, you know that hot chick Cindy Crawford?
She wants to * you.
Yeah, but she's got that big zip between her nose.
I can't get past that.
Jesus Christ.
I'm wide awake.
I'm calling QVC just to * kill time.
I'm ordering porcelain dolls a hundred at a time.
I'll take the Japanese one with the yellow shoes for $59.95.
No, I'm not a racist.
I said Japanese.
What the *'s your problem?
Last week, I ordered power love ballads of the 70s.
I got 12 hours of air supply on my cell phone now.
The worst infomercial?
When you can't sleep, that comes on?
That goddamn psycho from MyPillow.
That * freak.
How big is this guy's advertising budget?
Jesus Christ.
Anybody else think he's got the bones of small children
buried under his house somewhere in Cleveland?
That guy creeps me out.
He looks like a pedophile with that big * porno mustache from the 70s.
Giant crucifix, silky blue shirt.
He's holding the pillow like it's a child that washed up on his shore
in * Syria somewhere.
Hiya, how are ya?
I'm Mike Lindell.
Inventor of MyPillow.
And thanks to my patented fill that'll muffle the screams of any 12-year-old boy or girl,
I made a machine washable to get rid of that pesky DNA.
I made it right here in my home state of Minnesota
because I have felonies out in all 50 states.
You know, he's got like 12 underage Asian girls tied to a loan in his basement.
I need 20 more by Wednesday.
Don't get mouthy with me.
I'll open it.
Thank you, staff.
Anyways.
I'm kidding.
I'm no * diva.
Anyways.
How about a hand for them letting me do this here, by the way?
They've been so good to me.
Seriously.
Seriously.
Yeah, so I tried Ambien.
My friend said,
you gotta do it.
If you can't sleep, take Ambien.
That's a nice pill.
Have you tried that?
It's a combination of Clorox and devil's semen, I'm thinking.
That is the most heinous * I've ever put on my body.
If I found the needle in an alley tonight,
I'd stick that in the head of my dick to knock myself off
before I take another Ambien.
It wiped my memory off for 72 hours.
I'd come down the stairs in my robe.
I'd look like Nicholson at the end of Cuckoo's Nest
after the lobotomy.
My wife goes, you want coffee?
I go, who the * are you?
Get out of my house, bitch.
Get out, I'm calling the cops.
My neighbor calls me at like noontime.
He goes, hey, do you know you tried to choke out my wife
in your underwear last night in the front lawn?
I'm like, yeah, you're welcome.
That * made me violent.
Not irritable, * like almost violent,
the next day.
I tell my doctor that.
I go, this stuff is making me almost violent.
This is what my doctor says over the phone.
And I quote, he goes,
yeah, they really don't know how that stuff works.
What the * did I call this, an outgo station?
What did you just say?
They don't know how it works,
so maybe you can ask the coroner next week
when they find me face down on my tub.
He gave me time release Ambien.
I don't know anything about medication.
I'm pretty healthy.
Somebody explained to me after I was taking these,
with time release capsules,
there's coatings on the pills
and they come off every couple hours in your stomach.
I didn't know.
I was cutting the Ambien right in half,
getting right to the nougat center.
So after taking these things,
after two minutes,
I'm pissing and shitting myself on my recliner.
I can't feel my feet.
Honey, check the dosage.
My ass is numb.
Is this right?
I'm crawling across the floor,
leaving a piss stain on the rug.
I'm mumbling like,
I look like, I look like,
you know, Leonardo DiCaprio
in the Wolf of Wall Street.
Check the dosage!
Check the dosage!
It's horrible.
I'm walking around like a * zombie all day.