Anderson, Graham, Cross

  • Season 2, Ep 0212
  • 05/26/1993

Welcome to "Two-Drink Minimum."

I'm Jake.

You know, as you folks allknow for years now thousands

of people havebeen writing to me

for advice abouttheir love problems.

And so I brought oneof the letters with me

tonight, which I'd like to readand then answer on the show.


Dear-- dear Jake, I'vebeen seeing Charlie--

not his real name--for over a year,

and our relationshipis fantastic.

The problem is my parents.

My mother refusesto talk to him.

And my father won'teven allow his name

to be mentioned in the house.

Charlie is a wonderful,sweet, and caring man.

I love him very much.

And he loves me.

I plan to marrythis terrific man,

but I'm worried about how myrelationship with my family

will be affected.

Signed, Torn in Toronto.

I have my response herethat I've gone over.

Dear Torn, yours is a sadand all too common story.

First of all, if Charliewere such a great guy,

he'd tell you his real name.

Um, Torn, listen to yourparents and listen to me.

Charlie is probably a puke,a miserable worthless piece

of crap.

I hate him.

He makes me sick with thatphony look of persecution.

"I can't understand whyyour parents don't like me.

What did I do?"

Obviously, I can't say.

But you probably knowexactly what it is.

Which reminds me, howwell do I know you

Torn, if that is your real name?

Why should I takeyour word for it

that Charlie issuch a great guy?

I think you're lyingto me about Charlie

like you're lying to meabout your real names.

I was going to tellyou Charlie is a cancer

and must be cut out.

But the more I think aboutit, the more I hate you both.

God, I wish I couldget my hands on you.

I'd reach down yourvile, ugly throats

and pull out your filthy,rotten, stinking guts to punish

you for passing offyour counterfeit

emotions for realhonest feelings.

But that would betoo good for you.

You deserve to spendthe rest of your lives

in a miserable,loveless marriage

like your pathetic parents.


Well, I, uh-- I, uh--I-- I--I hope that helps.

Um, now I'd like to bringout our first performer.

I had the best dayever, you guys.

A ran into my ex-boyfriend andhis new girlfriend with my car,

so it was really good.

Thank you.

It wasn't my fault.

I didn't see himsitting in a cafe.

I'm sure.

So I'm dressed up.

I got lipstick on.

I hate lipstick.

I cannot stand lipstick.

My mom makes me wear it.

"Honey your grandma's goingto be here in five minutes,

could you run upstairsand put some lipstick on?

She likes when you wear it."


She can't see it.

She can't, you know, unlessI smear it on my teeth

like she does, thenmaybe right there.

Give her a littlepoint of reference.


She's a very sweetwoman, my grandmother.

She took me to buya dress with her.

That was very nice.

But then she followed meinto the dressing room.

You don't really want anybodyin the dressing room looking

at you, especiallyyou're grandma sitting

on a little stoolgoing, (GRANDMA VOICE)

why are takingyour brassiere off?

You know?

I don't know.

I don't need a brawith this dress, OK?

God, I barely need a bra at all.

She can't hear at all, so she'sreally loud. (GRANDMA VOICE)

I think you havenice breasts, honey!

Oh my god.

Why don't you just say itso the whole city can hear?


They're nice breasts,Karen Anderson!

Stand up straight!

Stick 'em out!

Put a little lipstick on 'em.


I used to get super-embarrassed.

When I was in high school Iwas one of those people who

had every medical attachmentknown to mankind on my body.

I had, like, everythingyou could think of.

I had glasses.

A lot of people have glasses.

I had braces.

People have braces.

I had headgear.

I'm a horse, and I'mready for a ride.

Come on.Let's go.

Then I dressed up the look witha beautiful back brace. 'Cause

you just can't stopthere, can you?

Please, make melook like the girl

from "Sixteen Candles"who keeps hitting

her head on the water faucet.


I got the worst traitshanded down to me.

Some people are so lucky.

Oh, you have your mother's eyes.

How pretty.

Oh, you have your father's hump.

Can't tell you apart.

Walk around highschool going, oh yeah,

these are the best yearsof my life, uh-huh.

Mom, Dad, youforgetting anything else

from the gene pool--anything at all?

Maybe a club footwould look nice on me

this term, some supporthose and an iron lung

to round out my look.

(GRANDMA VOICE) Well, honey, ifyou put a little lipstick on,

nobody would notice.


But you don't listen to me.

Go to the beach, thatwas, like, the worst,

because you want to look good.

Trying to lookgood at the beach--

no suntan lotion, just a littleWD-40 around the mid-section.

Buff up the headgear.

Check it out in themirror-- ting, ting, ting.

I'm a looker, yeah.

How good could I look?

I've got headgear on,glasses, a back brace,

little thong up my butt.

Hey, fellas, how you doing?

No flash photography, please.

I'm a super teen model.

Totally embarrassing--I'm laying in the sand,

some kid chainshis bike up on me.

Hey, I am not a rack!

Thanks a lot, you guys.

What a town.

Yeah, man, you can buyanything in this town.

Are you kidding me?

Yesterday-- getthis-- yesterday I

bought a cuckoo clockat an Army Navy store.

Last night at 10, thebird chirped 2,200 times.

11 rolled around, it wasn'teven halfway finished, you know?

This relentless bird in my face.

But I don't want to giveyou the wrong impression.

I'm not lazy.

I'm not lazy.

In fact, I'm a workaholic,which is why I can never work.

I'm recovering.


Even light work,I can't touch it.

Maybe one day I'll help an oldlady with a bag of groceries--

boom, I'm in the Peace Corps.

So it escalates.

I got to watch it.

-So with this life, I'm in aboutthe worst shape I've ever been

in, even though maybeI don't look too bad.

But I'm not doing too good.

But I figure as my bodycrumbles, my spirit soars,

and my ego inflates to fillthe empty seats at my shows.

So I'm doing well.

But my friends are worried.

My friends say, Matt, yougot to get more exercise.

And I want to oblige them,because I'm glad they care.

And I was thinking about this.

I figure there aretwo ways you can

go about getting more exercise.

Now you can one, do theobvious-- go out, jog, swim,

play basketball.

Or, two, you can let yourphysical condition regress

to the point whereanything becomes exercise.

You hip to whatI'm talking about?

Ever gotten that clammy feelinggoing up a flight of stairs?

Maybe a headache gettingoff the couch too quickly?

I'm at the point whererapid eye movement

is a cardiovascular workout.

So, health is importantnowadays, isn't it?

Yeah, I'll tell you.

Really, no it is,'cause nowadays doctors

say there's bothgood cholesterol

and bad cholesterol.

But I can't help but believethat all cholesterol deep down

is good.

That's why I think of myarteries as a Boys Town

where I give badcholesterol a second chance

to turn it around.

So I eat a lot of steakand stuff like that.

My uncle just hada pacemaker put it.

There's a lot ofstuff he can't eat--

microwavecheeseburgers-- ex-nay.

My uncle is a mess.

He's had numerous heart attacks.

They've used thosefibrillators on him

so many times that he's got aplus on one nipple and a minus

on the other.


The medics still get confused.

My uncle's a strange guy--very moody, manic depressive.

And once he sentme a postcard that

said "having a wonderful time.

Wish I were dead."

My uncle.

I've been a littlemorbid lately,

because my cousin-- whoI was very close to.

He's that one member of thefamily I could really joke

around with-- more a friendthan a relative-- and my cousin

died like five months ago inthis really bad car wreck.

And I was at his funeral, whichis of course closed casket,

until I dropped it-- fauxpas, faux pas, you know.

But I was one ofhis pallbearers,

and I got a muscle cramp.

I figure life is for the living.

So I let it go.

I let it go, becausehe was heavy.

He's my cousin, butthat's not important.

Here's where it gets weird.

This is all you got to follow.

I let it go-- boom,casket hits the ground.

Lid flies open.

My cousin's head rolls 30yards down an embankment,

lands at the feet of somepeople visiting another grave.

Really awkward.

-I'm a nice kid.

I try and say the right thing.

Without missing a beatI said, little help!

I didn't think anybody wasgoing to throw it back to me,

you know?

I-- I started to walk awaywhen I heard a heads up.

I'm outta here.

I recently moved to Los Angeles,the movie capital of the world.

And, you know, I'ma great big fan

of the movies, especiallythe old classics.

And one of myfavorite actors was

the late, great Humphrey Bogart.

Now who could forgetHumphrey Bogart?


Give it up for Humphrey Bogart.

Who could forget HumphreyBogart in such classic films

as "The MalteseFalcon," "Treasure

of the SierreMadre," "Casablanca"?

Now, folks, can youimagine if Humphrey

Bogart was your dentist?


Wouldn't that be weird?


for cute or clever segues.

And speaking ofthat, I was at this,

um-- I was eating at thisseafood restaurant today--

really nice, you know, fancy--one of those ones where they

got that tank in themiddle of the lobby.

And they let youpick out your own,

uh-- no, no, dolphin, actually.

And it was, uh-- it was good.

It was great.

Well, don't groan.

I mean, it was all tuna-safe.

You know, I wantedto be PC about it.

It was all dolphin-free--tuna-free dolphin.

I mean.

No, isn't that kindof hypocritical

that nobody really caresabout saving the tuna's life.

You don't see anybody out therepicketing to save the tuna.

Just the dolphin, because,you know, it's cute.

That's-- that's whywe can't eat it.

No, it's Flipper.

No, no, no, no, wecan't eat Flipper, no.

Because you know that if adolphin was ugly and tasted

good, we'd be eatingby the truckload.

No one would care.

Really, it's weird.

The only negative thingthat ever happened to a tuna

was-- was born butt-ugly,and it mixes well with mayo.

So sorry, Charlie.

But that's how that works.

And I just think it's weirdthat we project the human idea

of vanity onto theanimal kingdom.

We're not allowed to eat cutefood or domesticated food.

We're not allowed to.

Morally, ethically, it's wrong.

I mean really,ostensibly, I should

be able to eat agreat big steaming

platter full of littlebaby kittens if I want.

You know?


What, because they're cute?

Forget that.

Eat them up.

Cook them.

They're good.

I'm sure.

-Oh sure, I can eat a pig's ass.

I guess that's OKwith everybody.

No problem with that.

Yeah, a pig's ass is all right.

Mm, yeah.

Yeah, give me the part rightby where he dumps outta.

Can you lop thatoff for me, please?

That'd be good.

Hey, put a honey glaze onthat too, while you're at it.


Good-- honey-coated pig's ass.

Make a good littlesnicky-snack right now for me.

No, it's just weird.

It's an odd thing.

And I-- just to deflectthis-- I know I do this bit,

and I always getsome, like, you know,

pseudo-liberal who puts theblinders on as soon as they

hear "Eating dolphins." andthey don't listen to the joke.

And they'll come up to me afterthe shows-- this has happened--

just in my face,indignant, coming up to me

going, (FUNNY VOICE) um, excuseme, uh, comedian, or whatever.

Yeah, I mean, well,no-- yeah, well, we

heard what you were sayingabout eating the dolphins,

and I just wanted to say wrong!


No, um, OK?


I mean, yeah, yeah, I mean,we don't not eat the dolphins

because they're cute.

We don't eat thedolphins, because they're

intelligent, OK?

Think about that,mister, next time, OK?

Just honestly, really, honestly.

And people have said that to me,which I think is really, really

stupid logic, 'cause, youknow, I suppose if you're going

to use that kind ofrationale, then I suppose

we should be eatingthe retarded, really.

If you're going to--