Downloaded from YTS.MX
A NETFLIX ORIGINAL COMEDY SPECIAL
Official YIFY movies site: YTS.MX
Hey, camera guy, could you please stop looking at me like that?
You're freaking me out here.
Thank you so much, Monterrey!
You're the best!
Thanks for sharing my dream with me today.
We'll have a ball. Thank you so much.
I'll introduce myself to the newcomers.
Okay. You're obviously high.
Those are my folks. Thanks for coming, Mom.
Let's have some fun.
For the newcomers, I'm Alan Saldaña. I'm not from this beautiful city.
I live in Monterrey, but I grew up in Reynosa,
a nice, non-violent town, where there's peace and quiet.
What? This town is awful too. I was killed like six times here.
But now I feel immortal. I can't die anymore.
So, what kind of comedy do I do? Stand-up, observational comedy.
I analyze everything, and I just had a cruel experience.
The worst experience any man can have.
Raise your hands, guys,
if you have been quarantined after a pregnancy.
What, bros? Don't you have sex?
Get out there and start breeding.
When my doctor said to me,
"It's 40 sexless days and nights," I said no problem.
I looked at my hand and asked, "Remember me?"
But my wife said, "No cheating, faggot."
I thought 40 days and nights were no big deal.
But it's a helluva long time.
The first 15 quarantine days went by smoothly.
I was in full control of the situation.
Twenty days later, I was having twinges.
I was like, "Oh, fuck!"
Twenty-five days later, one ball was swollen.
I walked like this.
Just like Quasimodo.
At 35 days, I hugged my friends very affectionately.
"How are you doing, dude?
Come closer, you faggot."
Forty days later, I hoped the doctor would give me the green light.
Because I saw my own doctor, Dr. Simi.
I waited forever for the doc to give me the green light.
I waited for the damn cocky doctor! I was like,
"Come on, man! It's been 40 days! I'm horny."
And the doc was like. And I was like, "Come on!"
And I was so desperate I hit the table like this.
And it didn't hurt.
I could even crack a walnut.
Sometimes I even crack coconuts.
Some Sundays at the mall,
"A coconut, sir." "Sure, I'll crack it for you."
"With chili?"
I was waiting for the doc to give me the green light, until he said,
"You're allowed."
Put yourselves in my shoes. Everything I felt.
Forty days with no action. You think I waited until I get home?
Like hell I did. I did it In the doctor's office.
Up and down, missionary style.
And the doc was like, "Get off of me! Give me a break!"
So outside, I screwed the chick in the animal costume.
Then my wife wanted some and I said,
"Tomorrow. I have a headache. I just cracked a walnut."
I analyze everything that happens to me in my life.
I like my life. I'm a good dad, just so you know.
I put my kids in the Colegio Irlandés school.
You don't believe me? So I need to get my son out of there?
When he asks why he can't go to school, I'll say because people don't believe me.
I put him in an expensive school,
because he needs it for good education.
The kid gets there at 7:30 a.m, leaves at 2:30 p.m.,
then he does his extracurricular activities,
and I get him back at 9:30 p.m. ready to be tucked in.
I'd let him sleep in the school, but I can't.
The janitor won't let me.
So I like that school.
One day, I forgot he was finishing at 9 p.m.
I got there at 9:30 p.m. to pick him up.
There was nobody but his karate coach.
And I showed up saying, "I'm sorry. I forgot."
And my kid's always happy to see me. He was so happy because he rarely sees me.
He goes, "Dad! Dad!" "What is it, son?"
"Guess what my karate coach taught me."
"What, son? What?"
So my kid turns around and punches another kid.
He knocked that kid out.
I must admit I was proud that my kid knocked out another kid.
But I hated to find out the kid's dad was the karate teacher.
I could've been knocked out because of him.
So, I immediately said, "What did I tell you, huh?"
"Help the kid up and pick up his crutches, dude!"
"You don't hit kids that can park in the spaces for disabled people."
So I analyze everything that happens to me,
and I analyze people's behavior.
Times have changed.
People are so biased.
Raise your hand if you're biased.
Okay, raise your hand if you know what being biased means.
People can be so judgmental, for example,
I notice how people treat me differently
when I'm in a nice suit and tie, than when I'm in drag.
They treat me differently, the jerks.
Sure, I'm biased too. I don't deny it.
If I see a gangster kid on the street walking like this,
my bias says he's a pothead.
Maybe he's no pothead, and washes cars, but I think he is.
I see a guy in a suit carrying some pamphlets
during my Sunday barbecue, my bias says he's a Jehovah's Witness.
I see a chick on a corner in a miniskirt, with big boobs,
smoking out there in the middle of the night,
my bias says she's a dude.
Everybody is biased.
People judge you by the kind of music you like.
If you like vallenato music, people label you as trashy.
If you like Arjona, you're a moron.
If you like reggae, you're a pothead.
If you like banda, you're the reggae guy's pot dealer.
And if you like Jenni Rivera,
you're the reggae guy's pot dealer's mom.
Thank you.
Another thing I criticize a lot are Jehovah's Witnesses.
And don't get me wrong, I respect all beliefs and religions,
but why the hell do they come on Sundays?
When I'm hungover.
They never show up on Sundays when I'm not feeling rough.
But they smell a hungover sinner and come running.
Why not show up on Monday, dudes?
They show up on Sundays because barbecue empowers them.
They burst into flames on Monday. "Oh no, it's Monday!"
All that's left is a Bible, an umbrella, and the Watchtower pamphlets.
Jehovah Witnesses show up on Sunday knocking on your door like this:
The Coppel guys leave, but not them.
"Anybody home?"
"Why did you turn the lights off?"
"We can hear the TV."
The instant you peek through the window they go, "I saw you!"
You ask politely, "How can I help you?" "We're the Witnesses."
"I know, I saw the umbrella."
"Would you like to become a Witness?" "No testifying for me, thanks."
"We're the sisters of Christ."
"You look great for your age."
"What do you take, Herbalife? How do you do it?"
So they know I'm a jerk, and they quit showing up.
Instead, they use WhatsApp now because all jerks are Catholic.
They put up a sign outside their house,
"This is a Catholic home." Just below the census sign.
The Witnesses put one that says,
"This guy's a jerk. Census guys, don't count the jerk."
They don't show up now, they use WhatsApp. I'm asleep on Sunday, and it goes…
I open the message at 9 a.m., still half asleep,
and it says, "We are Jehovah's Witnesses."
"Umbrella. Umbrella."
"Repent, sinner!" Hands like this.
"Last chance. The end of the world is near."
"XD. XD. XD."
How do you reply to such a threatening message?
I sent them this emoji:
"Maybe your world is ending but not mine. Blocked!"
You think they quit saving me? No, they're looking for my weaknesses.
They know I like gossip so they exploit that.
They yell outside the house, "Heard the good news?"
"What good news?"
"Salvation is at hand." "Is it here?" "Not yet."
"Let me know when it's here. I'm hungover."
Next Sunday the wiseguys try something new. "Fire!"
"Where?" "In your heart for not accepting us."
"Give me a break!"
"Let me talk to your boss."
"Put your hands together to talk to the boss."
"I said the boss, not the owner of the company."
"You mean the pastor?"
"Here's a pamphlet with the number in the back.
Zero 1-800 God hears you. The Watchtower.
They'll answer you."
So I called.
"Thank you for calling the Jehovah Witnesses line."
"Witnesses, dial one."
"If you're not a Witness, you'll go to hell, but dial two."
I dialed two and burned my finger.
"To join our congregation, dial one."
"To make a donation to our congregation, dial two."
"To apply for a copy of a lost pamphlet, dial three."
"To get for information about our umbrella sale,
dial four."
"To purchase fabrics, that we sell by the meter,
and sew your own skirt,
dial five."
"To speak with a pastor, dial zero."
Sure, why the hell not? Zero it is.
And the music on hold goes like this…
Hallelujah Hallelujah
"All our pastors are currently busy."
"Please, hold."
And the music goes again.
Hallelujah Hallelujah
"Two umbrellas for the price of one. Get yours now."
Hallelujah
"Had enough of Hell? Don't know how to be saved?"
"Join our preacher team and bug people every Sunday."
"Live the experience. Base salary plus commission."
Hallelujah
"This is Pastor Alemán. Who's calling, please?"
"Alan." "How can we help you, brother Alan?"
"I'd like to cancel my subscription."
"Is there a problem?" "No. I have all the pamphlets."
"So why are you canceling?" "You guys show up way too early."
"Should we change your visiting hours? We have slots at 7:00, 8:00, 9:00."
"Come over on Monday." "That's s problem."
"We're closed on Mondays." "Are you construction workers?"
"I want to cancel."
"Here's the cancellation number. Can you write it down?"
"Yes I can." "Write this down, 666."
"Dial that to cancel your salvation." "Anything else?"
"Could you help us rate the pastor's service?"
"From one to ten, how would you rate the pastor's service?"
I said six.
Next Sunday I was up early, they didn't show up, and I went…
At 10 a.m.
At 11 a.m., ridden with guilt, I was like,
"Were they fired because of me?"
"Why did I report them?"
"Maybe they had little Witnesses to support, and I didn't care."
Thank you.
I will not be called a misogynist.
In my next sketch, I'm badmouthing a woman,
Do not call me a misogynist.
I have nothing against women.
My beef is only with this fucking broad.
She's fat, so don't start saying, "Oh, he said that fat women…"
No. I love fat women. I screwed a few of them.
Some fatties don't get any. "You don't get any? Right this way."
I like fat chicks because in bed you tell them to swallow,
and they're still hungry.
"Is there any more?"
Here's why I hated this fat chick.
I was flying home from a tour in Guadalajara.
Raise your hand if you've been on a plane.
You'll get the message.
For the rest of you, it's like a bus with wings.
So, I'm on the plane, and airplane seats come in rows. A. B. C.
A is the window, C is the aisle. I had an aisle seat.
This fatso came in. One of those with a screechy voice that nobody likes.
With a skinny girlfriend, the usual combo.
It's always a fat chick and a skinny chick.
They boarded Noah's Arc. The fat chick and the skinny chick.
I hated this porky because of all her bitching.
It all started because there was no room for her carry-on.
So she made a scene.
"Why don't they check-in their bags?"
"They use up all the damn space! Where do I put my bag?"
"Right, Gladys?"
Gladys is her skinny confidant.
I thought, "You dumb broad. Just look elsewhere."
I hated her even more
when she said this about a baby who was crying.
"Is this a daycare or an airline?"
"Somebody breastfeed the kid to shut him up. Right, Gladys?"
I go, "I hope this dumb broad doesn't sit next to me."
That was like a magnet. Fatso sat in the B seat, in the middle.
Gladys in the window seat like this.
I'm in the aisle seat like this.
The flight attendant says we'd open the emergency exit, and I'm like…
"What exit?"
"Where do I exit?"
The fatso started annoying me from the instant she sat down.
"Ever since they let yokels fly
they make the seats smaller to squeeze in more yokels.
Right, Gladys?
That fucking bitch! Then she started doing this to me.
I got mad because she put fat on me.
"Watch the armrest. This is my armrest."
"That's yours. Stop invading my space."
"Right, Gladys?"
I thought she'd put her arm there. But no, just a roll of fat.
Porky kept bitching that even her guy dumped her.
"Oh, Gladys. The jerk cheated on me with that scrawny thing."
"I'll block him on Facebook, WhatsApp, Instagram, my heart."
"I'll have him for lunch with tortillas and avocado."
"Right, Gladys?"
And I thought, "Forgive him. Who'll believe a big fat jerk like you?"
"I'd screw you if you were nice, so no."
I put my headphones on. Didn't want to hear it anymore.
I hated her, but meant no disrespect.
I slipped into my world with my headphones.
She started hitting my headphones.
But they were Bose so I heard nothing.
Okay. They weren't.
They were gowin brand.
The Oxxo ones. She wedged the rubber bit inside.
So she's knocking it and I say, "Yes?"
"Lower your dumb yokel music. It's annoying."
"I'm discussing some issues with Gladys."
"Right, Gladys?"
I go, "So fly first class and go fuck yourself in the front."
"But get three seats for your fat ass."
"And I'll knock you silly if you keep putting your fat all over me."
"Fuck you! Right, Gladys?"
Thank you.
Sorry. I couldn't stand her.
You see, I'm very transparent, very sincere.
And with all my sincerity, I'm still so unlucky in love.
I've been sent to the friend zone a lot.
Raise your hands if you know what friend zone means.
Okay, let me explain what it is to those of you who don't know.
"Friend" means we're dating, "zone" means no sex.
How did I know I was in the friend zone?
Because the girl I wanted kept using the word "friend."
"Hi, girlfriend." "I'm fine, girlfriend, and you?"
"Hi, how are you?" "Way out of your league."
How did I know she didn't care? She made out with the whole school.
She even dated the school's janitor. But not me.
I thought it was because we had no romantic moments.
So I took her on a date to the movies.
But she showed up with another guy.
With the janitor.
The worst part was that I had to buy the popcorn.
I went to get popcorn and the lady asked, "Are you guys together?"
"Always together," I said.
"Can we get a friend zone combo, please?"
"What's in it, miss?"
"Popcorn for you, a drink with two straws for them,
and a much-needed pair of balls for you."
"And for five more pesos, a dose of dignity."
"Are there any other combos?" "The Three's a Crowd combo."
"What does that include?"
"Popcorn for them, a drink with two straws,
and throwing hints at you to get lost."
"I'll just have the popcorn."
"Okay. We'll give you half a portion."
"Isn't she getting some?" "She'll get some later."
I said, "I can't be in the friend zone. I'll confess my love to her in style."
So I got her a huge teddy bear that cost me 5000 pesos.
A box of Ferrero Rocher Limited Edition Dark Chocolate
at a Sanborns clearance sale.
Long-stem red flowers sprayed with Norwegian water.
Where did I get those, you wonder? From the pothead on the corner.
He's a pothead with a green thumb.
And if he says he used Norwegian water,
I believe him because he's a pothead, not a liar.
I got some European refill cologne. The French stuff.
I ran out of cash. The bear left me broke.
I put on some cologne in case she kissed me and hugged me,
and something happened.
What the hell? Let it happen.
I couldn't care less, I refill it.
Twenty more sprays, so it doesn't wear off.
But the crap is pure alcohol and I went…
Me and the damn bear, in love.
I tell my future mother-in-law,
"Good afternoon, ma'am. I'm here for your daughter."
"And don't be surprised by the big bear, as my love for her is even bigger."
"I got her the chocolate too. I want her lips to taste like it."
"Flowers that remind me of her beauty. And I reek of love."
"It's really intense down there. I spilled some."
"And if she accepts me,
I promise that every day, every minute, every second,
I'll be her true love, work for her,
and with love and dedication, I'll buy a house to have sex in all day."
"And if I have a heart attack, I'll say I miss her on a Ouija board."
She took one look at me and said,
"What a moron!"
"Couldn't you wait for her and the janitor to leave the room?"
So I ended up with a broken heart and blue balls.
But God closes a door and opens a window.
Every cloud has a silver lining. It happened to me.
I met this gorgeous chick.
I don't know what she saw in me, she was stunning.
We dated for two years. The first year was pure honey.
Bees followed us around because of all the honey.
So much honey we looked like Winnie the Pooh.
Year two, our relationship went downhill.
I had to do something or she'd dump me, and I didn't want to lose this girl.
I had to rescue our relationship.
So I had a noble idea of inviting her to watch Netflix at home.
Just to hang out.
"Honey, let's watch Netflix together at my place."
"How about it?"
"We'll hang out and create memories we can laugh about in the future."
And she said, "And you'll fuck me?"
I said no and she did…
"It's not a problem. Just tell me so I can have a shave."
I said no and she said, "Go see if Mom believes you."
I went, "Good afternoon, ma'am."
"May I take your daughter home to watch Netflix and chill?"
"So you can fuck her?"
I said no and she said,
"Sure you will. It happened to me, that's how this idiot was born."
"I know all about it."
And she said to her daughter, "Go and have a shave. Poor guy."
We bumped into her seven-year-old brother on the way out.
And he asked, "Where are you going?"
Poor innocent kid, I thought. "To watch Netflix at mine, son."
"So, to fuck?"
"Good for you, man!"
"Fuck her brains out. Rock her world!"
I was so embarrassed. Then the local priest showed up.
"Where are you going, son?" "To watch Netflix, Father."
"Before the wedding?"
"That's a sin, say Our Father 15 times as penance."
"Twenty if she hasn't shaved."
So we went to mine and did exactly what you're thinking.
I fucked her.
But only because of the social pressure.
Thank you.
The problem was when I took her back to my furious father-in-law.
"Where were you morons?" "Watching a movie at my place."
"I know what that means, and it hurts me."
"Your parents went out. The house was all yours."
"You abused my trust, it's gone forever. That's what hurts me."
I felt bad because like, it or not, the guy was right.
I even said, "Sorry, sir. I won't fuck her again."
"Don't worry about that! But why did you use my razor?"
"My whole chin smells like fish."
So, I'm unlucky in love. It never goes well.
You should ask yourself
why the moron invited her over to watch Netflix?
I love the Internet.
I post my videos on YouTube, I'm always on Instagram or TikTok.
I love the Internet. But my connection isn't what I expected.
For example, the local provider is Izzi.
I guess it's different elsewhere, but here it's Izzi.
I signed up because I got hooked one season
by an artist promoting Izzi.
Remember Rafael Amaya, El Señor de los Cielos, Aurelio Casillas?
Oh, what a man!
When he says, "Giddy up!"
When he says, "Kidnap me, Chacorta." I say, "Me too."
I'm watching El Señor de los Cielos on the slow internet.
Aurelio Casillas freezes while shooting a guy.
I'm like, "Kill him!" "Let it buffer."
I called Izzi to complain,
and they asked the dumbest question I've ever heard.
I called them and heard, "Thank you for calling Izzi. If you're a customer…"
Of course I'm a customer. Why else would I call you?
It's like calling Infinitum.
"No, I called to say hello. Are you having a barbecue, or what?" No.
"If you're an Izzi customer, dial one."
Being a proud Izzi customer, I dialed one.
"Enter your account number." Who knows their account number?
I was running like an idiot. My account number?
My account number!
Running all over my two-story house, "My account number!"
What, deadbeats?
So I have to be broke because you're broke?
All over the house, "My account number!"
Speeding in the golf cart, "My account number!"
Around the pool, "My account number!"
I got to the elevator.
Skeptics.
Oh! The garage.
My account number!
Then I entered the account number, five, four, seven…
You'd hack me if I told you.
What bugs me so much when you call this kind of company,
they're not patient with you if you make a mistake.
They send you back to the main menu. You're on hold and you hear…
For fuck's sake! I dialed again.
"Thank you for calling Izzi. If you're a customer, dial one."
"Enter your account number." Five, four, seven. Slowly to not mess up.
"For telephone issues, dial one. For Internet issues, dial two."
"If you're the issue, dial eight."
Just out of curiosity, bro.
Eight.
The message is, "Go see a a shrink."
For fuck's sake! I dialed again. "Thank you for calling Izzi."
"If you're a customer, dial one."
"If you're been rerouted more than twice, dial two."
I was rerouted more than twice. Two.
"If you're upset about being rerouted, dial one."
"If you're really upset, dial two."
"If you're mad as hell, dial three."
"To beat somebody up,
because you're upset about being rerouted, dial four."
"To hurt Izzi's owner for any reason whatsoever, dial eight."
Screw the owner. Eight.
I hear, "You're no match for him."
Thank you very much.
To make a long story short, I finally spoke with the operator.
But she took ages to answer.
Just so you'll get when I made the call, have you seen Titanic?
When Jack and Rose board the ship?
That's when I phoned.
Do you remember when the old lady throws a stone into the sea?
That's when they still hadn't answered.
They did when Lightning McQueen won the Piston Cup.
So, I dialed the number, and a lady picked up nonchalantly,
"Thank you for calling Izzi. How can I help you?"
"Improve your lousy service."
"I keep waiting like a fool, dialing and hanging up."
"I'm mad as hell. I don't care if quality control hears me."
"I'm worse than Rafael Amaya when I'm mad. Come on, dude!"
The lady's like…
"Calm down or I'll send you to the main menu."
"I'm calm," I said.
"I'm calm."
"Now, how can I help you today?"
"I need to cancel my Internet connection."
"This is a good time to cancel because your bill is due today."
"Okay. Cancel it."
"But we'd hate to lose such a great customer."
"How can we improve our service?" "By providing the Internet, bitch."
We argued for a couple of hours because they hate canceling.
"It's a bad idea." "It's a great idea. Just cancel it!"
Two hours later, she said she'd let me cancel,
but I had two bills to pay.
"Just a minute. You said I owed one bill, lady."
"The other bill became due while we argued."
"Plus a penalty for early cancellation."
"To help you avoid paying that much, I'll send you a technician tomorrow."
"Send me the bastard."
"Send him over so I can take it out on him."
At nine, when I'm mad as hell, ready to beat the crap out of him.
I will slap him silly.
"I'll beat up the dumpster guy, so send me the jerk."
He showed up at nine. I opened the door to yell at him.
But It wasn't Rafael Amaya, El Señor de los Cielos.
Holding a cable reel.
"What is your issue with the Internet, bitch?"
"Nothing, boss. Sorry."
"Chacorta, get him." And they kidnapped me.
So now, Izzi is your best choice, trust me.
And if your Internet sucks, it's because I'm a jerk.
Thank you.
Hey.
Why do I need to understand things?
Because comedians need info to write their shows.
With no info we just talk a bunch of crap.
I recently saw a video on National Geographic
about the praying mantis.
If you've never seen one, the mantis is an insect like the cricket,
whose forelegs look like it's praying, hence the name praying mantis.
They're found in the area… They're in Kung Fu Panda, all right?
They're called praying mantis because they're like this.
Turns out that when the male mantis
is impregnating the female in his missionary position,
because they're religious.
And she's going, "Oh, my God!"
The female devours the male's head during sex.
Go figure.
You'd say, "Ah!"
"Go for it, bitch."
But this?
Your face?
To get how serious it is, imagine you're having sex,
and the crazy woman bites your eye. Damn!
"You went too far!"
"You used to scratch me, bite me, spank me, but my eye? No way!"
Then the other eye. Man!
"Now I'm blind. Just fart so I'll know where to aim."
Animals have weird ways of reproducing, for example,
in the next video they talked about the black widow,
and how she won't let the male impregnate her.
Don't they get horny?
Isn't her little spider nest needy?
Then I remembered she's a widow, so she doesn't want to.
She still loves him.
The new male says, "Let's go." "I can't. My ex just died."
-How did he die? -I killed him.
So the male has to catch her unguarded to impregnate her.
I guess the unguarded spider is like…
This is my best imitation of an unguarded spider.
It's all I've got.
And stop whining.
If you go by my place at 4 p.m. I'll be practicing on the handrail.
Rehearsing to offer you a great show.
It's true, I'm on the handrail like this.
So, imagine the spider's off guard like this.
Spinning her web like this.
Like Spider-Man.
"Clean that corner up there."
"Up there for my eggs." That's where they lay their eggs.
And the male jumps on her.
"Get off of me, dude!"
And the male's going, "Move it, black widow."
"You need this, lady, come on!"
Spanks her with all 8 legs. "Come on, bitch."
But when the male impregnates her,
he has to run for his life before the widow kills him.
So the male comes and…
I don't know how he comes, okay?
I guess he comes like all males do, moaning like this.
That's how all males come,
making caveman noises.
Some come in installments.
I guess the spider comes…
And runs off or gets killed.
The widow goes, "Hey! Asshole!"
"Send me your number."
So I wonder how the male runs off
when I know that after sex your legs don't work properly?
Sure, because he's got 8 legs.
Six run and the other two get dragged along.
The last two get dragged like this.
So, if I screw a widow, she'll kill me.
"Let's go!"
I'm sprawled on the floor.
The spider asks, "What's wrong?" "Sorry."
"I fell from the roof."
"I fell in love."
You must wonder how I know so much stuff.
Because I was taught everything I know.
I knew nothing. My wife taught me.
My wife was a genius when we met.
We went to a motel.
Her phone connected automatically to the Internet.
Automatically.
"How did you do that, you witch?" "I downloaded an app."
"What app?" "Rodrigo."
It's true.
So she taught me everything I know.
For example, while we were at it one night she said,
"Hit me." And I'm like, "But I love you."
I was shocked, and she said, "Hit me!"
"I love you. Why would I hit you?"
"Spank me." "But you're a big girl now!"
"Hit me, you fool!" So I hit her. Then she kicked me out.
She liked it missionary style. I said sure and gave her a pamphlet.
"You need to tithe, man."
Then she said, "Buy me a dildo."
A dildo is a kind of vibrator that goes…
Right? Some are more powerful.
Some big black ones have Wi-Fi and stuff.
Some are so huge and pretty they even have names,
"Tremulous Pancho."
There's a new dildo for modern women.
I don't know the name, I don't use those dildos.
I saw a girl using it like this.
You hear bells ring, and they get possessed by evil spirits.
I call them The Exorcist dildos. I tried one out of curiosity.
Just the tip, I said, but it went in.
I was walking funny all over the house.
I looked like I was dancing duranguense.
I left the room like this, and my daughter asked what was wrong.
"Call your mom!"
She came back from the market two hours later.
I was lying on the couch like this.
Shaking like that.
My wife asked what was wrong. I asked her for an IV.
"I soiled the rug, look."
It looked like a snail.
So you probably think this guy with everything he knows,
must love table dance clubs, but I don't.
I've never been to a table dance club. Seriously,
What? Did you see me or what?
I admit going to one recently.
But not for me. I did it for you guys. To have something to talk about now.
I went to this club with all the staff turnover,
because of the orange neon sign,
"Girls wanted. Salary plus commission. We provide daycare."
I said, "Daycare? Wow!"
I saw some ladies leaving dressed as nurses.
Unbelievable. A daycare with an infirmary?
One left, dressed up as a cop. So they had security.
Then one dressed up her bare skin. You can make a baby in there too.
I went inside the club and my advice for you guys
is to be alert with the waiters.
Because waiters are jerks.
Table dance club waiters.
Just those, okay?
The golf club restaurant ones are worse.
Because when a table dance club waiter knows you're got cash,
they tell the girls that work there that a godfather arrived.
"A godfather's here."
"Shut up." I had the savings pool, so I was a godfather.
All my god-daughters wanted tips. "What's up, Godfather?"
"Hello, dear. How's your mom?"
I invested my entire buying power in a bucket of ten beers.
And with the bucket there was a free private dance.
I didn't know what a private dance was.
A girl showed up in scanty clothing like this.
Put on music for a free private dance.
She walked up to me like this.
The guy with the camera, please, stop looking at me like that.
You're freaking me out, dude.
Do I gawk at you like this?
That's uncomfortable, right? Stop gawking at me.
Okay, here we go again.
Please make me feel like a woman.
I asked a friend to do that, and he grabbed my tit.
Here we go.
One, two, three. I need cash for the diapers.
I know it's a luxury, but I'm worth it.
What toothless guy did this?
What was that?
If you can't whistle, do a "tweet-tweet."
Here we go again.
One, two, three, let's get the kid a dad.
It's freezing down here.
No way.
Okay. Okay.
I'm too old for this shit.
Okay, here we go again. I got this.
I've all these great cheers. Here we go.
One, two, three, a lioness is not a pussycat.
Here we go, one, two, three.
If I fall on my butt, it's because the damn pumps don't fit.
The girl walks up to me half naked.
That's how they turn you on at these table dance clubs.
The ones that laughed know it.
She walks up to me and says hi.
"Hi."
"How are you?"
"Fine, thank God, hanging in there."
"Thank God we're okay."
"Let's go," she said.
"Where?"
"Somewhere more comfortable."
"Go right ahead. I like it here."
"Let's make your dreams come true."
"Will I finish high school?"
"Your most intimate dreams."
"Will you make me rich?" "You'll feel like a million bucks."
So I went with her. You won't believe it!
What a great daycare! All the kids would want to stay.
I'm not explaining my jokes, okay?
They are imagination jokes.
So you need to use your imagination.
Haven't you used imaginary rocks to throw at dogs?
Take that, you freaking dog!
And the dog gets scared.
That's the power of imagination.
It's the same power women use to hurt us.
Where do women hurt us? Here.
In the mind, the imagination.
When? While you're having sex.
When you're doing it with her.
Yes, you jerks, with style.
Some guys are real jerks. No.
No!
It's with style.
One, two, one, two.
One, one, one!
You're doing it. She's moaning like crazy.
That's a sign that you're doing a good job.
She's like…
If I were a chick, I'd be such a slut.
I'd do it twice.
It goes in.
It comes out.
You're done.
She'll be moaning like crazy. That's part of it.
But they moan like crazy too, 7,5 on the Richter scale.
It's like…
Where did it hurt you, bro? Here.
It hurt you here in the head
because we men imagine all kinds of nonsense.
"I'm killing her."
"I'm rocking her world."
"Who's your stud, bitch?"
|f she moans the same way at the same time,
we men can't deal with it.
I grab her hair. "Are you okay?"
"Three minutes. I'd kill you if I go on."
Thank you, Monterrey. You're the greatest!
Subtitle translation by: Ricardo Espinoza