Murphy, Rhea, Anton

  • Season 2, Ep 18
  • 05/19/1993

Murphy, Rhea, Anton

A while back, I wentdown to Washington, DC

and they-- and they put meup in the Watergate Hotel.

I don't know if you've been--it's just like a normal hotel.

Nice, you know.

I don't know why I expectedit would be weird, like all

the paintings would havethe eyeballs that are

moving back and forth, you know.

Or I'd pull one of thebooks of the bookcase

and it would wheelaround and there'd

be Richard Nixon. "Doyou need more towels?"

But, uh-- that actuallydidn't-- it didn't happen.

Although somebody did break inand leave a mint on my pillow.

That was a little weird.

So I got to go tothe White House

and meet President Bush--which it's exciting to meet

the President, but I'mnot a big fan of him.


You know.

I suppose he's an OK guy,but I was not crazy about him

as a President.

But you know, that's whyI wanted to meet him.

Because he was the President.

Everybody wants to meetthe President, you know?

How do you think a guy likethat gets a fox like Barbara,


It's power, baby.

Pure and simple.

Chicks dig power.


I'm going to meet the guy.

I'm going to meet the guy, andI didn't want to just shake

his hand and smileat him like I'm

his pet monkey or something.

You know?

I wanted to tellhim what it's about.

I wanted to go,"People are hurting.

Stop the pain."

You know, that'swhat you want to do.

I'm coming up the line.

It's my turn, and Isay-- I tell him, "Hey.

Nice party.

Shrimp are big!"

I was going to break the ice.

And then, next thing you know,"This is my wife, Barbara."

And it's all over.

You know.

Do you think shewanted to talk to me?

I'm nothing to her.

Less than nothing.And that's what happened.


I just filled up mypockets with those shrimp.

And uh, went back tothe hotel, had myself

a little party at thetaxpayer's expense.


It's time to keepour show moving.

and this is what I've learned.

If you look at anyone long enough,

they'll eventually spit.

You know what I'm saying?

Hey, isn't that Mother Teresa?


I'm so sick of these men whojust talk about themselves.

I'm looking fora well-hung mime.

Anyway, um-- I've gotto find him first.

Now, all my friends are married.

They make me sick.

They call me all the time.

They're like, "Hi,it's Lynn and Charlie.

Yeah, we've officiallychanged our name to one.

Hey, how's the dating scene?

Oh, hold on just one second.

Charlie just brought meflowers for no reason at all.

Thanks, Darling.

Put them with the others.

Hey, did I tell youwe're buying a house?"

No, did I tell youMasterCard is suing me?

Some of my friends havestarted to have babies.

My best friend had a baby.

She gained 80 pounds.

She was in total denial.

Right before shehad the baby, she's

like-- do you thinkthere's any chance

that the baby couldway up to 80 pounds?

I'm like, I'm your best friend.

I'm going to go with 40, tops.

But, um-- I started to see atherapist because my family

says I'm in denial,which is a total lie.

I'm even in denial about thefact that I'm in therapy.

I've just convinced myself thatit's a friend that I see once

a week, and then I lend her $90.

And she never pays me back.

Therapy is amazing.

You sit there and you talk aboutyourself for an hour straight.

And the other person listensto everything that you say.

It's like I'm the guy on a date.

I think everyone should bein therapy, though, because I

think everyone haslow self-esteem.

Because you can nevergive anyone a compliment.

Because if you ever giveanyone a compliment,

they either totally dismissit, or they confess something

really horrible aboutthemselves that you

would otherwise never know.

You know?

Oh, you have a beautiful smile.

My back tooth iscompletely black.

Well, you look great today.

I once killed a man.

Well, you have a perfect penis.

It's not mine.

Anyone being sued by amajor credit card company,

or am I projecting?


It's gotten to the point nowthat I have to answer the phone

in foreign accents,you know what I mean?

I'm sorry.

She not here right how.

Maybe you call back in a year.

It was humiliating.

I tried to use my creditcard the other day.

I say I tried.

I went to one ofthese boutiques where

they have nothing butlike skin tight clothes.

Anyway, so I go in and therewas this evil salesgirl.

The kind who she'sobviously had her neck

broken and never got it fixed.

She's like-- Can Iget you something?

I'm like, Dramamine?


And, uh-- Anyway, I didn't wantto buy the dress, but you know.

I was in the dressing roomand I was trying it on,

and the girl nextto me was trying

the same dress in a size two.

And then she cameout, she's like--

"Do you have this in a zero?"

And in the meantime, I'm beingforced to buy the dress I'm

wearing because I couldn'tget the zipper undone.


Like now, I'm justgoing to wear it out.

So I tried to pay for the dress.

I gave her my, you know,American Express card.

It was like giving her ascratch-and-win lottery ticket.

She went like this.

She goes-- they want me to call.

I said, well call.

So she calls and shegoes-- oh, uh-huh.

They want to talk to you.

Well, tell them I'm not here.