Matthew Broussard

  • Season 5, Ep 17
  • 10/21/2016

Matthew Broussard admits he looks like a villain, explains why college is basically a social experiment and reveals the least sexy thing you can say to a woman.

I look like a douchebag.

(laughter)

Cool, thank you,thank you very much.

That's not really a joke.

It's just, like, I need you tomake sure to know that I know,

like, I'm aware.

I've seen mirrors, I get it,like, I understand.

Like, I feel like, before I evenpicked up the microphone,

most of you alreadydidn't like me,

and that's, that's okay,

because '80s movies havetaught you to not trust someone

with my hair and bone structure.

I get it.

You know what I mean, I feellike that's my whole life.

I just have, like,a douchey face,

where I can just, like,walk into a party,

eat three Pringles, and leave,and everyone's just like...

"That guy was a dick,I don't like him."

I try to have fun with it,though.

Like, during my lunch breaksat work,

I like to throw ona letterman jacket

and stop by local high schools,right? Yeah?

And just, like,cruise around the cafeteria,

find a kid sitting alone,

and he's, like, "Pfft,Stacy's a cheerleader.

She'd never go to prom with you,dorkwad."

He's, like, "Wait, who are you?

You look at least 40."

I'm like, "Whatever, kid.

I'm... drunk."

I actually recently joineda support group

for people who peakedin high school.

Thank you.

It's called CrossFit.

I saw it during...Oh, you've heard of it.

(applause)

Thank you very much,that's, uh...

That's not a joke, either,I actually do it-- it's sad.

Here's the thing that's lame:It's, like, I'm 28 years old.

At this point in my life,when I go to the gym,

it's just to work out,it's just to stay in shape.

People who do CrossFitconsider it a sport.

Like, when I joined the gym,the first thing they asked was,

"So what are your goalsas an athlete?"

It's like, "Low cholesteroland sex with the lights on?

Like, why are you here?"

And I don't think the workoutsare good for you.

Like, they sound likethey were written

by an undercover chiropractortrying to drum up business.

That's like, "All right,here's twice your body weight.

"You're going to pick it up,set it down,

then screamlike a wounded Spartan."

"Okay, what about form?"

"No time for form, just tryto lift with your back."

"Okay, that sounds likeit's going to hurt

and not in a good way."

"Don't be a pussy.

"Pain is just cartilage leavingyour kneecaps-- you got this."

I'm single right now.

Not because of the vulva thing,for other reasons.

And I enjoy being single,

but I feel like I've been singlefor too long,

and I've started to pick upa lot of weird habits

because I don't havea girlfriend

to just be like, "Hey, stopchewing your fingernails,"

or, "Mason jars don't doubleas latrines."

Like, really simple thingsthat you know.

And one of the weirder hobbiesI've picked up as a single guy

is, I like to makelittle clay sculptures,

about this big or so,of Pokémon.

And here's the weird part,because that's not...

They're not bad.

They're actually, like,really good.

And if that sounds cocky,

just rememberwhat I'm bragging about.

Now, here's the thing thatmakes that extra strange.

Because of the wayI look and am,

I don't really pull off quirkyvery well.

I feel like I give offone of two impressions:

either dumb frat boyor charming serial killer.

That's it, right?

So when you guys picturemy bedroom,

you probably see, like,I don't know,

something bro-y, kind of, like,protein powder

and a Fight Club poster.

And they're there, but...

Now picture,in addition to those,

a menagerie of handmadeanime figurines

and ta-da!

Murder dungeon--that's where I live.

And I had a wake-up callrecently,

where I went on a date,and it went well,

and I lured her backto my apartment,

and as we were walking in,I realized,

I forgot to tell her about this,

so the first thing she sees

is just a hundredof these little guys,

just lining my shelves,overlooking my bed

like gargoyles of self-inflictedabstinence, right?

And for a moment,I think I'm artistic,

she thinks I'm autistic,

and in the silence that follows,

you can hear her ovaries just go"shumpf" up into her ribcage,

like tubes at the bank, and...

She looks at them,

and then she looks at mewith fear in her eyes,

just like, "Oh, you didn'ttell me you collected toys."

I was like, "No, no, no.

I made those."