Stand up comedy with...Woody Allen
Gonna tell a love story now, 'cause you have background material on me. Ah, this occurred before I was married, a long time ago, out in Manhattan, I was in Manhattan. I was at City Center, this was ages ago, I was watching a ballet at City Center, and I'm not a ballet fan at all, but they were doing the dying swan, and there was a rumour, that some bookmakers had drifted into town from upstate New York, and that they had fixed the ballet. Apparently there was a lot of money bet on the swan to live. And I look at the box, and I see a girl, and my weak spot is women, ah, so I always think someday they're gonna make me a birthday party, and wheel out a tremendous birthday cake, and a giant, naked woman is gonna leap out of the cake and hurt me and leap back in the cake. So I pick up this girl, I was very glib, and she was a brilliant girl, she was a Bennington girl, studying at Bennington to be a woman male nurse at a four-year program, working on a term paper on the increasing incidents of heterosexuality amongst homosexuals. The girl was a swinger, however, I must....The girl was brought up in Darien, Conneticut, and when she was younger, she had a little brother about six years old, eight years...his parents sent the kid to military school. And while he was there, he stole jam or something, and they caught him, and they wanted to do things right, 'cause it was military school, so they held a court martial there. They found the kid guilty. They shot him. They returned to his parents half the tuition.
Meanwhile, I was running amok with his sister, his sister was fabulous, she was a great, great, blonde, and she had tatooed on the inner surface of her thigh, the words 'Bird lives', which, unfortunately, I was never privileged to see in the relationship, but had it been printed in Braille, I would have had a great thing going with her. We used to go up to her apartment late at night, and all her beatnik friends would be sitting crosslegged on each other there, and they would be trying to make opium out of the poppies given out by veterans on street corners. She used to plug in her twelve and a half dollar hi-fi set, y'know, with the teakwood needle, and put on the record albums on of Marcel Marceau, y'know, just....
She crushed me, I...Every time I tell the story, I'm reminded...I was what you would call, not a intellectual, up to her...she was...I was thrown out of college, and when I was thrown out of college I got a job on Madison Avenue in New york, a real dyed-in-the-wool advertising agency on Madison Avenue, wanted a man to come in, and they pay him ninetyfive dollars a week, and to sit in their office, and to look jewish. They wanted to prove to the outside world, that they would hire minority groups, y'know. So I was the one they hired, y'know. I was the show jew at the agency. I tried to look jewish desperately, y'know. I used to read my memos from right to left all the time. They fired me finally, 'cause I took off too many jewish holidays.
I have never in my life had difficulty with the cops. I had difficulty with the cops, that's not...no actually I didn't have difficulty with the cops. I was once sitting home in my house, and a lot of cars pulled up around the house. They shined in searchlights, and I heard a voice over the loudspeaker say "We have your house surrounded. This is the New York public library" They wanted their books back, y'know, and the little librarian was lobbing grenades over the house. I came out with my hands up, y'know, kicking the book ahead of me. They took me down to the main branch on Fifth Avenue in New York, and they took away my glasses for a year. And I was thinking, when I lived in my apartment in the brownstone building in New York, we were constantly getting robbed all the time. It was a very big feature of the neighbourhood, y'know. Guys would break in and steal, and my apartment was robbed about four times in two years, y'know, it really got to be a bad thing, and I didn't know what to do about it, so finally I put on my door, a little blue and white sticker that said "We gave". Figure that would end it brilliantly, but it didn't, 'cause a man in my building, Mr. Russo was held up late at night, two very big guys got him with a bottle and a stick in the lobby, y'know, and they wanted all his cash, and Russo like a jerk tried to sign for it for tax purposes, whatever it is, y'know. They hit him with tremendous shot across the frontal lobe, y'know, real smack in the head, and he fell to the lobby in a fetal position, y'know. He lay there until his lease ran out, y'know. He's never been the same since the smack in the head, y'know. He smiles a lot now. He laughs out of context occasionally. He's not as perceptive as the average tree stump, y'know.
Everybody in the building panicked, they said that I'm small and that I should go and build myself up, in case I get into trouble, I could defend myself, so I went to Vic Tannings, this was a long time ago, I went for three weeks, and I lifted and I bent and I squatted. Nothing happend to me at all, y'know, nothing grew or anything, and I figure it's ridiculous, why don't I forget about it and give Vic Tanning the cash., and I ask him if he'll walk me home nights.
However, there is a kid in my building, a little odd kid named Leon, and Leon takes karate lessons. Leon is always walking with his hand cocked at a right angle, like this, y'know, and everyone said that I should learn Judo, 'cause I'd be an animal, but Judo to me has always been a thing of the bigger your opponent is, the bigger the beating he is gonna give you, y'know. And then my good friends told me, in the back of Esquire magazine, you can send away for a fountain pen that shoots teargas. It's a real fountain pen, and it secretes a gaseous billow, y'know, really great pen, seven and a half dollars. I send away. It comes in the mail, two weeks later in a plain brown wrapper, y'know. I unscrew it, I put in the teargas cartridges (pop), I clip it in my breast pocket, y'know (click), I go out, a long time ago this was, some friends of mine had a surprise autopsy, and I'm invited for the evening, y'know.
I'm coming home by myself, two o'clock in the morning, and it's pitch black and I'm all alone, and standing in my lobby is...a neanderthal man, with the eyebrow ridges, y'know, and the hairy knuckles like this, y'know. He had just learned to walk erect that morning, I think. Came right to my house in search of the secret of fire, y'know. A tree-swinger in the lobby at two o'clock in the morning. A mouth breather looking at me, like (breathes heavily), y'know. I took my watch out and I dangled it in front of him, y'know, 'cause they're mullified by shiny objects sometimes. He ate it. I tried to impress him and I backed off and I pulled out my teargas pen, and I pressed the trigger, and some ink trickled down my shirt. I made a mental note to call Esquire and tell them 'cause, I'm standing in the lobby, two o'clock in the morning, y'know, with a product of a broken home, y'know. I had a fountain pen in my hand, I tried writing on him with it, y'know. He came for me, and he started to tapdance on my windpipe, so very quickly, I lapsed into the old Navajo Indian trick of screaming and begging.
I get into an amazing amount of, ah, physical encounters for someone my size. About thirteen weeks ago, I had my shoes shined against my will. Tremendous shoeshine boy, said to me "I'm shining your shoes". "Yes you are" I said. He did give me an execellent shine though, I might add, but they were suede shoes.
A Love Story
Gonna tell a love story now, 'cause you have background material on me. Ah, this occurred before I was married, a long time ago, out in Manhattan, I was in Manhattan. I was at City Center, this was ages ago, I was watching a ballet at City Center, and I'm not a ballet fan at all, but they were doing the dying swan, and there was a rumour, that some bookmakers had drifted into town from upstate New York, and that they had fixed the ballet. Apparently there was a lot of money bet on the swan to live. And I look at the box, and I see a girl, and my weak spot is women, ah, so I always think someday they're gonna make me a birthday party, and wheel out a tremendous birthday cake, and a giant, naked woman is gonna leap out of the cake and hurt me and leap back in the cake. So I pick up this girl, I was very glib, and she was a brilliant girl, she was a Bennington girl, studying at Bennington to be a woman male nurse at a four-year program, working on a term paper on the increasing incidents of heterosexuality amongst homosexuals. The girl was a swinger, however, I must....The girl was brought up in Darien, Conneticut, and when she was younger, she had a little brother about six years old, eight years...his parents sent the kid to military school. And while he was there, he stole jam or something, and they caught him, and they wanted to do things right, 'cause it was military school, so they held a court martial there. They found the kid guilty. They shot him. They returned to his parents half the tuition.
Meanwhile, I was running amok with his sister, his sister was fabulous, she was a great, great, blonde, and she had tatooed on the inner surface of her thigh, the words 'Bird lives', which, unfortunately, I was never privileged to see in the relationship, but had it been printed in Braille, I would have had a great thing going with her. We used to go up to her apartment late at night, and all her beatnik friends would be sitting crosslegged on each other there, and they would be trying to make opium out of the poppies given out by veterans on street corners. She used to plug in her twelve and a half dollar hi-fi set, y'know, with the teakwood needle, and put on the record albums on of Marcel Marceau, y'know, just....
She crushed me, I...Every time I tell the story, I'm reminded...I was what you would call, not a intellectual, up to her...she was...I was thrown out of college, and when I was thrown out of college I got a job on Madison Avenue in New york, a real dyed-in-the-wool advertising agency on Madison Avenue, wanted a man to come in, and they pay him ninetyfive dollars a week, and to sit in their office, and to look jewish. They wanted to prove to the outside world, that they would hire minority groups, y'know. So I was the one they hired, y'know. I was the show jew at the agency. I tried to look jewish desperately, y'know. I used to read my memos from right to left all the time. They fired me finally, 'cause I took off too many jewish holidays.
The Police
I have never in my life had difficulty with the cops. I had difficulty with the cops, that's not...no actually I didn't have difficulty with the cops. I was once sitting home in my house, and a lot of cars pulled up around the house. They shined in searchlights, and I heard a voice over the loudspeaker say "We have your house surrounded. This is the New York public library" They wanted their books back, y'know, and the little librarian was lobbing grenades over the house. I came out with my hands up, y'know, kicking the book ahead of me. They took me down to the main branch on Fifth Avenue in New York, and they took away my glasses for a year. And I was thinking, when I lived in my apartment in the brownstone building in New York, we were constantly getting robbed all the time. It was a very big feature of the neighbourhood, y'know. Guys would break in and steal, and my apartment was robbed about four times in two years, y'know, it really got to be a bad thing, and I didn't know what to do about it, so finally I put on my door, a little blue and white sticker that said "We gave". Figure that would end it brilliantly, but it didn't, 'cause a man in my building, Mr. Russo was held up late at night, two very big guys got him with a bottle and a stick in the lobby, y'know, and they wanted all his cash, and Russo like a jerk tried to sign for it for tax purposes, whatever it is, y'know. They hit him with tremendous shot across the frontal lobe, y'know, real smack in the head, and he fell to the lobby in a fetal position, y'know. He lay there until his lease ran out, y'know. He's never been the same since the smack in the head, y'know. He smiles a lot now. He laughs out of context occasionally. He's not as perceptive as the average tree stump, y'know.
Everybody in the building panicked, they said that I'm small and that I should go and build myself up, in case I get into trouble, I could defend myself, so I went to Vic Tannings, this was a long time ago, I went for three weeks, and I lifted and I bent and I squatted. Nothing happend to me at all, y'know, nothing grew or anything, and I figure it's ridiculous, why don't I forget about it and give Vic Tanning the cash., and I ask him if he'll walk me home nights.
However, there is a kid in my building, a little odd kid named Leon, and Leon takes karate lessons. Leon is always walking with his hand cocked at a right angle, like this, y'know, and everyone said that I should learn Judo, 'cause I'd be an animal, but Judo to me has always been a thing of the bigger your opponent is, the bigger the beating he is gonna give you, y'know. And then my good friends told me, in the back of Esquire magazine, you can send away for a fountain pen that shoots teargas. It's a real fountain pen, and it secretes a gaseous billow, y'know, really great pen, seven and a half dollars. I send away. It comes in the mail, two weeks later in a plain brown wrapper, y'know. I unscrew it, I put in the teargas cartridges (pop), I clip it in my breast pocket, y'know (click), I go out, a long time ago this was, some friends of mine had a surprise autopsy, and I'm invited for the evening, y'know.
I'm coming home by myself, two o'clock in the morning, and it's pitch black and I'm all alone, and standing in my lobby is...a neanderthal man, with the eyebrow ridges, y'know, and the hairy knuckles like this, y'know. He had just learned to walk erect that morning, I think. Came right to my house in search of the secret of fire, y'know. A tree-swinger in the lobby at two o'clock in the morning. A mouth breather looking at me, like (breathes heavily), y'know. I took my watch out and I dangled it in front of him, y'know, 'cause they're mullified by shiny objects sometimes. He ate it. I tried to impress him and I backed off and I pulled out my teargas pen, and I pressed the trigger, and some ink trickled down my shirt. I made a mental note to call Esquire and tell them 'cause, I'm standing in the lobby, two o'clock in the morning, y'know, with a product of a broken home, y'know. I had a fountain pen in my hand, I tried writing on him with it, y'know. He came for me, and he started to tapdance on my windpipe, so very quickly, I lapsed into the old Navajo Indian trick of screaming and begging.
I get into an amazing amount of, ah, physical encounters for someone my size. About thirteen weeks ago, I had my shoes shined against my will. Tremendous shoeshine boy, said to me "I'm shining your shoes". "Yes you are" I said. He did give me an execellent shine though, I might add, but they were suede shoes.
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