Downloaded from YTS.MX
(organ plays)
Official YIFY movies site: YTS.MX
-Hi.
-Rachel Brosnahan! Lookin' good!
(whispering)
(phone vibrating)
(camera shutter clicking)
-Mommy's coming.
(camera shutter clicking)
(chuckles)
(camera shutter clicking)
-Yearly departed....
We have gathered all you ladies here today
because 2020 was a trifling ho.
And together we are going to lay this motherfucker
of a year to rest.
Because 2020 took so much from us:
But I'm here today to also remind you
that 2020 gave us so much...
-Banana bread. -Yum.
-Insomnia. -Yep.
And a sixth sense to know when
someone is standing six feet away from you.
BT dubs, six feet equals one Sterling K. Brown.
-Just happy to be useful, ladies. Don't mind me!
Thanks, Ster-ster.
What a chocolate daddy he is.
-He hot.
-While we were all unproductive slob kabobs,
2020 was out here doing all of the things.
A global pandemic, mass unemployment,
worldwide protests, wildfires,
murder hornets, Megxit, Brexit.
Yes, all of that happened this year.
This 56-month-long year.
And although so many were divided this year
about whose lives mattered and if wiping down groceries
was really necessary
and bitch, yes it was.
We did have one common enemy:
the iPhone Weekly Screen Time Notification.
I don't need to get dragged like that.
-Thank you, let me live. -Yeah. Let her live.
-2020... -(organ plays)
You were a big ol' dick.
And we are here to tell you to rest in peace
even though you destroyed every little ounce of ours.
-Yes!
-So now, in the spirit of collective healing,
I'm turning it over to you,
to share about what you lost in 2020.
All right, let's get this year off our chests
and out of our minds, huh?
-Yeah! -Yes.
-Let's do it. -Great.
First to say a few words about something dear to her:
please welcome the iconic Tiffany Haddish.
(scattered applause)
-Thank you. Thank you.
I'm here to bid farewell
to casual sex.
This is extremely hard and I apologize
if I have to cut my remarks short.
I'm still in complete shock.
Utterly devastated,
and so, so horny.
-Mm-hmm.
-Casual sex was my rock.
It was there for me in my darkest times:
After heartbreak.
After bombing onstage.
After my 10-year high school reunion.
And I was married then. It was a casual marriage.
-Amen.
-I'll never forget that feeling
that incredible feeling of being on top of someone,
feeling that rush of passion,
staring deeply into their eyes,
and wondering what is his name.
-Mm-hmm.
-But then quarantine happened:
and Casual Sex was suddenly gone.
Just gone.
They said it would be a couple weeks
and I was like, okay.
I thought to myself: this'll be good.
This is a chance for me to heal,
get my spirit, my soul together.
Maybe learn to do the splits so the next time
I see some... baya, you feel me?
Baya! -Hell, yeah, bitch.
-Maybe in the meantime I'll join a fuckpod.
The only problem is once you enter a fuckpod,
you can't leave your fuckpod.
If you leave, you've got to get a nasal swab
and two weeks of isolation
before you can even shake hands.
Sorry, the word "hands"... I just...
It's a lot for me right now.
Cause you know hands. Big hands, small hands.
I like small hands on a man,
'cause it makes my breasts feel big.
You know what? That's not what we're here about.
If God forbid you want to leave your fuckpod for a fuckboy,
you had to ask yourself,
are they cute enough for me to die in about three weeks?
Possibly.
And I stopped watching TV. I just stopped it.
Because at this point, all shows turn me on.
Planet Earth.
Kingdom of Plants 3D.
I love that British nature man's voice.
Is there something wrong with me?
-No there is not.
-And I don't know if it's because
I like the way frogs fuck,
or the way a gazelle rides another gazelle.
Have you ever watched crickets do it?
It's amazing. -Oh, totally.
-And that's when it him me. Casual sex is not coming back.
At first, I was actually okay with it.
There's something about men wearing a mask
and staying six feet away that's such a turn on for me.
-Same.
-Girl, you know what I'm saying?
I think it's something about them not talking.
-Yep. -But that doesn't matter.
-Going on a hike without a face mask is the new
fucking without a condom.
The sad truth is
nothing can fully replace casual sex.
Without it, I'm a stranger to myself.
Okay?
I don't know who I am anymore.
I'm lost.
I got on Bumble, y'all.
I ended up meeting somebody.
He got tested, I got tested.
-I'm in a relationship now. -Tiffany...
-I promised myself
that I wouldn't do that.
I just know that someday,
casual sex...
and I will meet again.
And this time, I won't take you for granted.
I will let you put it in my butts,
for two-and-a-half seconds.
And I will pretend to like it.
Until then...
casual sex is survived by mutual masturbation over FaceTime,
and woke conversations.
Thank you so much.
(organ plays)
-Wow. That was so beautiful, Tiff.
Thank you for sharing your truth.
-Thank you.
-Of course.
And I think I speak for everyone when I say
I'm kind of offended that no one asked me to join their fuckpod.
-I'm bouncing between three fuckpods right now.
-Okay, I don't think that's how that works.
-Oh, it works.
-Anyway, I think it's important to remember
that while we said goodbye to things we'll dearly miss,
this year claimed some victims we're glad as hell are gone.
Like buffets.
And blowing out birthday candles.
So now, to pay her respects to something long overdue,
my queen, Natasha Rothwell.
(organ plays, applause)
-We are gathered here today to say goodbye to TV cops.
TV cops lived in a magical, beautiful world where
they were the ones who solved crimes.
How cute.
TV cops lived a simple life, they were the heroes.
And only ever occasionally broke the rules
in the name of justice.
They went by many names:
Starsky, Hutch. Cagney, Lacey.
-Those little Paw Patrol assholes.
-Yeah, those motherfuckers, too. Turner, Hooch.
Sherlock. Even weird, alien,
sexy Benedict Cumberbatch Sherlock.
-Benedict Cumberbatch is hot.
-So hot.
-And they came in so many different pairings.
Big cop, small cop.
Old cop, rookie cop. Good cop, bad cop.
Or as black folks called them,
bad cop, bad cop, bad cop, bad cop.
As we bid farewell to TV cops,
we must also bid farewell to buddy cops.
If you want a cop to be your buddy,
you have to be a white teenager with a gun.
And they'll take you to Burger King!
- Mmm-mm-mm.
The hard part for me is
there were TV cops that I really loved!
You know, I'll miss rooting for McNulty
on my 8th re-watch of The Wire.
Even when he was bad, he was endearing.
Was it his jawline? I don't know.
And I'll miss loving Carl Winslow.
Carl Winslow! 2020, ruined Carl Winslow!
-Can we keep Carl Winslow?
-No, honey, no.
They're gone.
They're all gone.
If I'm gonna be honest, TV cops, I'm surprised
you survived as long as you did.
But by the grace of executive producer Dick Wolf,
you guys lasted longer than
"Keeping Up with the Kardashians."
-Mmm.
-With that said,
I want to extend my deepest condolences to
recent theater school grads.
Look, I know you had you heart set on
making your television debut as a dead sex worker,
or a doorman, or a doorman who's also a dead sex worker,
but today, I want to remember the good times.
TV Cops, you always knew how to make me laugh as a kid,
and you knew how to make me laugh even harder as an adult.
Like when one of you said
"If you break the law, you break the law.
We're gonna treat everyone equally."
(laughing)
Oh, shit, in retrospect,
that was the funniest shit I have ever heard
in my Black life.
Where do they come up with that?
Oh, speaking of coming up with shit,
now that TV Cops are dead,
network TV is going to have a void to fill.
So I've taken the liberty of coming up with a few shows
with a different group of municipal workers
that I think can take their place...
Mailmen.
I didn't stutter, mailmen.
If there's anyone that needs propaganda right now,
it's the U.S. Postal Service.
Phoebe, my posters please?
Can I get a C, and something up-tempo.
Ooh, I like that. All right.
First up in primetime:
"U.S.P.S. I Love You."
Matt LeBlanc plays a post office cashier
with dreams of being a mail carrier.
Mila Kunis, she's the post office manager
who falls in love with him.
All this talk of priority mail,
but when are you going to make me a priority?
Yeah? -I'd be in that.
-For real? -Yes.
-Okay, making deals!
Okay, not sure how the postal workers will appeal
to young, cool audiences?
Well, buckle the fuck up:
Selena Gomez and Zendaya star in "Going Postal".
Sex, drugs, and express two-day shipping
in the continental U.S.
Oh, not enough action, you say?
I thought of that.
FedExxx.
Vis Diesel, the only guns he needs are these.
(applause)
-Brava!
-You know, they say art imitates life,
but these shows were defunded
long before the actual police departments.
After the service, please join me in the garden
where we will be planting evidence in TV Cops' memory.
Thank you.
(organ plays, applause)
-Thank you, for those powerful words, Natasha.
And thank you to Vin Diesel for wearing the hell
out of that mailman uniform.
Mmm.
And now please welcome Rachie Brozz Brozz.
(organ plays, applause)
-Thank you, Phoebe.
This year, we said goodbye forever to pants.
Thanks to 2020, our pants have been tossed
in the great laundry hamper in the sky.
-Yes!
-When there was no longer a reason to leave the house,
pants lost any reason to exist.
The one time I put on pants this year was to prove
to the Postmates guy I hadn't totally lost my grip.
-Aw.
-There were so many good pants: High rise, low rise,
light wash, acid wash,
boyfriend, girlfriend, harem and assless.
But to really understand what pants meant to us,
we have to start from the beginning.
Pants were born at a time before women
were allowed to wear them.
But like so many freedom fighters before them,
pants stood up in the face of inequality and injustice
and broke down barriers.
Thanks to Pants we have the freedom to sit astride a horse.
To ride a bike without our petticoat getting caught
in the spokes and killing us.
And to lady-spread on the subway with reckless abandon.
-That's right.
Pants also made it easier for us
to run away from predators, like men and bears.
Oh, and they had these cute little pockets
that were perfect for holding tiny things,
like our tampons and our paychecks.
-Yeah.
-Alas, though pants started off as a feminist statement,
they somehow evolved into being so skinny
that they cut off the blood flow to our brains.
It's a bad sign when the best part of wearing pants
was taking them off at the end of the day.
-Yes. -That's true.
So maybe they had it coming.
And 2020 was the inspiration that we needed.
Because this is about liberation.
-Yes!
-Yeah, pants, a world without you looks different.
With the death of pants, we also lost so many other social norms:
Bras, portion control,
productivity, showering regularly.
And, of course, the concept of shame.
And to all that I say...
-fuck it. -(gasping)
To hell with it!
To hell with all of it!
-To hell with dying my hair. -Yes.
-To hell with shaving my pits?
-That's right. Let 'em grow.
-To hell with returning text messages in a timely fashion!
-Yes! Yes.
-To hell with paying my taxes.
-Ye-- No.
No, sorry, you absolutely have to pay your taxes.
-To hell with pants.
-That's right.
Fuck pants.
-Yes.
-Fuck pants.
-Fuck pants! -Yes!
Yes!
-Fuck pants!
-Ashes to ashes, dungarees to distressed,
don't cry 'cause they're gone.
Smile, because you don't have to get dressed.
-Okay.
-Thank you.
-That was good.
Damn.
All right.
Thank you, Rachel Brosnopants.
-Boo.
-Oh come on, it wrote itself, I had to say it.
Listen, I support you on your pantsless journey, Brozzies.
But they do keep the air conditioner on in here
so you about to be cold.
Okay, I feel the dark spirit of 2020 lifting already.
-Shout out to Jesus.
-So to grace us with her wisdom
is my friend Patti Harrison
who's gonna lay to rest someone
very, very near to her.
(organ plays, applause)
-I am here today to honor the passing
of Rich Girl Instagram Influencers.
This is a shocking loss for their family,
fans, followers, and...
their branded partnerships with SmartWater.
They were collaborating on making
a non-reusable metal drinking straw
for women identifying cis-women.
And they were going to debut it at the pop-up party
for the relaunch of Enron.
I'll be honest: Rich Girl Instagram Influencers,
I can't tell whether or not you were in fact "gone too soon."
The number of face-app smoothing filters you used
made your age absolutely indiscernible.
You could have left us very young, yes,
but for all we know,
you could have been well into your 90's.
Who's the daughter, who's the mom?
They're both pushing vaginal rejuvenations, you know? Ha ha.
Regardless, you left behind an over-exfoliated legacy
and a pair of bone-chillingly huge sunglasses.
But what is to blame for this tremendous loss?
Was it the global pandemic shutting down
all their favorite moisture stores?
Was it the withdrawal from not being able to take photos
of sunbeams shining through their thigh gaps at Coachella?
Was it inserting "Kombucha-pons"
before proper clinical trials could be conducted?
We'll never know.
But what is tragically certain,
is that there was still so much left on Earth
for them to not learn.
Rich Girl Instagram Influencers,
though we were shocked at your passing,
it should have come as no surprise,
as you've died many time before.
You absolutely died over this jumpsuit
you described as "chic janitor vibes."
You died over this serum.
This car your dad or husband, whatever, bought you.
But let's not focus on death.
Death's not what funerals are about.
There were so many things you accomplished in your time.
You discovered Italy, Paris,
Up State New York,
And you were almost always...
-Always on a boat? -Yes, on a boat.
#boatlife #WomenWhoBoat
#BoatOrDie #BoaterSuppression.
And who could forget your deeply surface-level
love for photography, which you tried to get people to start
calling "Memory Remembering":
A term you coined for you brand partnership with Fujifilm and...
Enron.
And most powerful of all.
Rich Girl Instagram Influencer, you got involved.
When protests erupted across the country,
you waited one full day
before posting your sponsored results
from your belly-smoothing Skinny Diet Tea.
-Yes. -Wow.
-Though you may be gone, your legacy will live on,
link in bio/swipe up to shop.
You're survived by your children/siblings,
we can't tell:
Beckett, Sailor, Poet,
Jamison Neat, and Jaxson with an X.
Now, in your honor,
we'll be following the strict mourning practices
of "Spiritual But Not Religious,
fiscally conservative but socially liberal,"
and together we will light a candle.
It's from the line of horse wax candles you made
in partnership with Lululemon,
and Hillary Clinton Hot Sauce,
-I'm with Her.
-And... yeah, Enron.
It has abundance written on it, it's $190.
-That's a good price.
-No horse wax candles.
Rest in peace, Rich Girl Instagram Influencers.
May we all say: Namaslay!
ALL: Namaslay.
-Thank you.
(organ plays, applause)
(sobbing)
Mmm.
-Thank you for that moving tribute.
I haven't been that sad about a rich white lady's demise
since Dorinda left "The Real Housewives of New York."
-Left? Please.
Dorinda was fired. -Mm-hmm.
-I heard she was hoping for a raise.
-Andy Cohen, pay Dorinda what she's worth.
-Ladies, ladies, please, settle. Okay?
-All right. -And now please welcome
our second Natasha of the night,
that's Nattie L., of course.
I'm talking about Natasha Leggero.
(organ plays, applause)
(organ plays)
-Uh, sorry about that.
Um, Natasha had to step out for a few.
She's having tiny issues,
but she'll be right here. Okay.
(clears throat)
-Mommy! Mommy! I don't want to be here!
-Daddy has Zoom trivia with his buddies,
and it's illegal for me to keep you in the car,
so just sit back here with the iPad and be a good girl.
-I'm hungry.
-Just please, watch Peppa Pig.
If you can do a convincing British accent
by the time I get back,
there'll be a bowl of chili in it for you.
-I hate chili.
(organ plays)
-Hi.
I am here today to say goodbye to Having Any More Children.
Good-bye to the painful, messy,
psychologically scarring event known as...
-having sex with my husband. -Mmm!
-No one should be having any more kids
and I say this as someone who loves a gender reveal party
and guessing what natural catastrophe it will cause.
By about April of this year, I was ready to reach down there
tie my own tubes, and double knot that shit.
-Amen. -Yes.
-To be clear, it's been great having this time with
my daughter, Gianna... I hope I'm pronouncing that correctly.
But after being quarantined with her for eight months,
I've been thinking of sending back my Wayfair furniture
with a fun surprise.
I love my daughter.
But I love her in the same way that I love LSD.
In microdoses.
But during this quarantine, I'm ashamed to say,
there have been times when I don't like her.
Unless she's sleeping,
in which case, I forget I have her.
But I didn't sign up to be a preschool teacher.
I didn't have a baby to teach it.
Okay, I had a baby to get likes on Instagram
just like everybody else.
-What's your baby's handle?
-Just DM me.
And I'm not just a teacher.
Now that she's home all day every day,
I'm a personal chef,
well, I was until I taught her how to use DoorDash.
But I'm a camp counselor, a child psychologist,
a gym teacher.
And, on really rough nights, a sanitation worker.
'Cause she shits her pants.
People love to point out that having a baby
ruins your body, and don't worry, it does,
but it's your mind that really takes the beating.
Imagine not having to log on to the Internet to be trolled?
She makes fun of me constantly.
I fell like I'm living with a suspended Reddit user.
Sometimes I daydream about what it would be like
to go through this quarantine without a child.
I'd do social distance happy hour with homemade sangria
every night, I'd write two pilots,
one comedy, one deeply affecting costume drama.
I'd finally learn to paint.
But no, instead, I've spent my entire quarantine
trying to convince a 3-year-old to wear a mask.
She's like a Trump supporter.
Always shouting, "No Mask! No Mask!
Dr. Fauci is a deep state operative!"
I used to want to have more kids but now,
the most I'd do is adopt a 14 year-old
who is good at crafts and maybe some light dusting.
It's honestly irresponsible to have any more kids.
I mean, what are they inheriting?
A sinking planet?
Toxic air?
A "Fresh Prince" reboot?
-Mommy, I'm bleeding.
-Ugh.
Always bleeding, all right. I have to go.
(organ plays) -I'm coming.
What is in your mouth?
-God.
And I glad I invested in an IUD. -Same here.
-Anyway, I know there's someone here
who can unite us with her brilliance,
and that is Ziwe.
-Woo! -(organ plays, applause)
-Yes!
-Today we say goodbye to the era of the beige Band-Aid.
Beige Band-Aids were born in Highland Park, New Jersey
in 1920.
Conceived by Earle Dickson, the Band-Aid only came in beige
because the 1920's were famously safe for Black people
-Ha-ha.
-Famously.
But this year was different.
As protests against police violence
erupted across the nation,
our friends at the Band-Aid corporation,
and so many corporations
stood up and declared with a loud, triumphant voice,
"Fine. Here."
Isn't it nice?
We asked for equality and we got a brown Band-Aid.
A little brown Band-Aid on a systemic bullet hole.
-Pass the plate because this is a sermon.
-Mm-hmm.
-We must also pay our respects
to all of the civilian casualties
that the death of the Beige Band-Aid era
took with them now that corporate racism isn't allowed:
Aunt Jemima, Uncle Ben,
Chief Wahoo, Trader Ming
and the nameless Native American butter girl.
Thankfully, Aunt Jemima's legacy will live on
in an Oscar-nominated film about her life,
starring an all-white cast.
(laughs)
-Now along with these new diverse Band-Aids
came a tidal wave of performative bullshit
from corporations and suddenly everyone
was apologizing for massive blindspots
about their unchecked racism.
Networks purged blackface from every beloved
sitcom from the past 15 years.
There's also Washington D.C.'s newly named
"Black Lives Matter" plaza.
-Oh, I was stopped and frisked there.
-Same here.
-In the post-beige Band-Aid world,
apologizing became the norm.
Celebrities apologized for
their accidental plantation weddings,
even though plantation was right there in the name of the venue.
-Thank you.
-I didn't realize the era of the beige Band-Aid
had died until I started getting a flurry of texts
from my former co-workers expressing their own apologies
for various slights.
I truly had no idea that that many white people
had my phone number, and that's on me.
The era of the beige-only Band-Aid is gone,
and all it took was a literal 100 years.
-100 damn years.
-So, thank goodness we now have a Band-Aid in the shade
of Naomi Campbell...
-Nice.
-Iconic.
Thank you.
(organ plays)
-Wow.
Thank you so much, Ziwe.
-You're welcome.
-Okay, well, without further ado,
it is my pleasure and my honor--
Oh my God, I'm getting chills just thinking about it.
--to bring up the great, the legendary,
Sarah Silverman.
(organ plays, cheering)
-Hello, friends.
We're gathered here this evening to bid farewell
to Making America Great Again.
-Woo!
-You were a concept, a political agenda,
a slogan on a hat made in China.
So let's take a moment of silence.
Moment over. All right, Judy.
(music plays)
(cheering)
-All right, cut it, Judy.
(music stops)
-Farewell Lil' MAGA.
It's high time we lay you the fuck to rest.
(cheering)
Can you imagine what George Washington would say
if he saw America right now?
He'd be like, what's a toilet? Why do women have bank accounts?
What's a car? Where are all the horses?
Where's Martha, is she dead? What's a phone?
Salad in a bag?
This country's really changed since its inception.
MAGA, it's hard to pinpoint exactly when you were born.
In recent history, I'd say it started
when a nice lady from Alaska shot moose from a helicopter.
And people loved it.
You started really walking when racist chodes
accused the first black president of being from Kenya.
And then you moved right into that Oval Office
when the electoral college decided they'd rather
roll the dice on a failed casino mogul than vote for a woman.
We never saw you coming, and by "we",
of course I mean white liberals.
I'm not just here to criticize you.
I admired a lot about you.
You were a noble goal.
I mean who doesn't want to be great?
You promised a wall and you made one
out of strong metal cages with toddlers inside.
You touted law and order and you teargassed moms in Portland.
You wanted to make Americans richer.
And you did that!
As long as they were already rich.
But I gotta be honest.
When I close my eyes and picture "great,"
I don't see gumming up the U.S. Post Office
to keep people from voting or
paying less in taxes than you paid for your TOTO toilet...
-Hell no.
-And MAGA, I admired your commitment to diversity.
It didn't matter whether someone was a disgraced lawyer
or a disgraced CEO,
or even a disgraced white nationalist,
to make America great again,
they all had a seat at the table.
And you're responsible for some of
the funniest jokes,like,
"Mexico will pay for the border wall"
and "The virus will disappear by April,"
and that prank you pulled on Herman Cain.
Wow. Just wow.
And with your passing,
there are so many more goodbyes to say.
Goodbye to the idea that education is indoctrination.
-Yes!
-Goodbye to the fear that at any moment,
the nuclear codes could wind up on Twitter.
-Hell, yeah.
-Goodbye to the idea that your opinion is science.
-Yes.
-Life will improve for so many in a post-MAGA world.
Endangered species, democracy.
Infrastructure.
Black and indigenous people of color.
LGBTQIA+ peeps.
Jews. Whoops, guess we are gonna replace you.
But not until we get a handle on controlling the weather.
So to making America great again,
we say, adios because we know how much you'll hate that.
You know, it turns out, you can't make something
great again if it wasn't great to begin with.
When was this "again?" anyway.
Was again when black people weren't allowed in certain towns
after sundown? -No.
-Was it back in 2002 when it was still illegal in Texas
to perform and receive anal sex?
Up until the 70s, women couldn't apply for a bank account
without a man's permission.
Thank you, Justice Ruthie.
Sure, there have been great things about us:
Of course there have been great things about us.
Purple mountains majesty.
Um, Costco.
24 hour dry cleaning. Dolly Parton.
-She's great.
-Gun ranges next to liquor stores.
-That is a thing.
-But now we've taken off the red hat,
and it's our job to climb out from under the rubble,
and the wreckage of what's left of our country,
and just... just make America good.
Because we can be good.
Despite what the past four to 300 years have taught us,
it's not too late. -Yes.
-Maybe this is because I'm high, I don't know,
but we've gotten through so much.
And we've gotten through it with grit and resilience
and porn that's specific to our needs.
-Hell, yes.
-I know we have it in us to Make America Good.
-Say it. -Preach.
-I've seen us be good.
How during this fucking awful year,
we showed up for each other.
When we marched in peaceful protest.
When we helped our neighbors.
When we got on our fire escapes and banged our pots and pans
for the frontline workers
in a collective, shared primal scream.
-Yeah!
-Because goodness is greatness.
So we'll move on from the MAGA era stronger.
-Yes. -And wiser.
-Yes!
-And one step closer to deleting Facebook.
-Amen.
-Because this is America, goddamnit.
And are we the greatest country in the world?
No.
But are we the biggest?
Also no.
But we are the craziest, and that's not nothing.
-Woo!
-And so I stand before you today hopeful.
Because when I look out at this crowd,
I see women in this room who have made us
feel a little bit better.
And it reminds me, we're in this together.
-I got your backs, I got your backs.
I got all your backs. -Wahoo.
-Because...
what was I saying?
-America? -I was?
Oh, okay.
Well, sayonara 2020.
I hate to see you leave but I love to watch you go.
(cheering)
(organ plays)
-Well, ladies, we did it.
-Woo. -Yes.
-We have said goodbye to so much here today.
But as I look around this room, I don't feel a sense of loss.
2020 tried to break us, but today,
some of the funniest women that I know
got the last motherfucking word.
-Woo! -Yes, Phoene Robinson!
-Here, bitches.
-Yeah! -Woo!
-So in closing, thank you.
Thank you for helping us put this year to rest.
I needed it.
And now...
I have prepared one final in memoriam
to take us out. Microphone?
Thanks.
I don't normally sing, so, uh...
bear with me.
-Um, I can sing.
(gasping)
-Oh, shit.
-It's Christine Aguilera.
-Fuck it, I'm out.
-♪ I will remember you ♪
♪ Will you remember me ♪
♪ Don't let your life ♪
♪ Pass you by ♪
♪ Weep not for the memories ♪
♪ I'm so tired but I can't sleep ♪
♪ Standing on the edge of something much too deep ♪
♪ It's funny how it feel so much ♪
♪ But we cannot say a word ♪
♪ We are screaming inside ♪
♪ But we can't be heard ♪
♪ I will remember you ♪
♪ Will you remember me ♪
♪ Don't let your life ♪
♪ Pass you by ♪
♪ Weep not for your memories ♪
♪ I will remember you ♪
♪ Will you remember me ♪
-What note can't you hit? -♪ Don't let your life ♪
♪ Pass you by ♪
♪ Weep not for the memories ♪
♪ Don't let your life ♪
♪ Pass you by ♪
(cheering)
♪ Weep not for ♪
-Yes, child, yes. Sing it!
-♪ The memories ♪
(cheering)
-Happy New Year, see you in 2021, boos.
-♪ Lowkey Fuck 2020 ♪
♪ Still sad still ain't got no money ♪
♪ I ain't got a watch upon my wrist ♪
♪ I just got some shit I gotta fix ♪
-Hi, ladies,
you look gorgeous.
Sorry I can't be on the floor with you.
Where's my eyeline?
(laughing)
Eyelines to the podium.
Feel free to look down, look around,
like you would anyway.
-2020 was a triflin' ho.
-So true.
-Hold up.
-Nobody's here.
-They will be. In the VFX.
-This is nice.
(cheering)
-♪ I'm just stating the facts, this year is just whack ♪
♪ Emotionally I am lonely and anxious ♪
♪ And mad ♪
-Perfect, let's get you dancing.
-♪ Lowkey fuck 2020 ♪
-Why am I dancing? What's the intention?
-Christina Aguilera is singing "I Will Remember".
(laughing)
-I can give it a try.
My dress is like vinyl, so...
Latex, like, making some noise.
-Fuck pants!
Fuck pants.
-Brown Band-Aids. End of racism.
Brown-- woo!
End of racism.
(laughing)
-Oh, shit.
Oh, shit. Okay.
(sighs)
(laughing)
I can't believe it!