and you know, acting auditions,and it's kind of humbling,
'cause I'm not like an ugly guy.
Like I'm not the most rottenavocado at the green grocer,
you know, but like,
you know, I'm not likeJohnny Sweetface either.
Like I'm not super handsome,you know.
So I go in for this stuff, andit's like they... it's weird
getting told to your faceexactly what you're being
brought in for,like something crazy.
Like I went in just recentlyfor this audition.
And I didn't know whatI was going in for, right?
So I walk in and a reallyattractive girl
with a clipboardis sitting there,
and I'm like, "Hey, I don't knowwhat I'm here for.
Can you tell me whatI'm auditioning for?"
And she's like, "Yeah,what's your name?"
I'm, like, "Matt Braunger."And she's like,
"Oh, yeah, here you are, Matt.
Yeah, you're here for the roleof 'unattractive man.'"
Like to my face.
Like not to someone else--"Tell him he's here for that."
the hot girl said that.
"You're here forCaptain Uglyface," you know.
Did you ever like, haveyour face make a noise
you didn't tell it to make?
Like you're that shocked.
Like just... "Dah!"(laughter)
Okay, yeah, no, that's cool.
I'll just sit downtry to play it off
while I cry tears of blood.
That film I went out for-- Harry Potter.
What?My transitions are awesome.
Anyway, Harry Potter, uh...
That didn't relate at all.
You know, I like,I like Harry Potter.
I like the moviesand the books,
but I think they sendthe wrong message to our kids.
And that's that it's okayto own an owl for a pet.
No. Okay, look, if you don'tknow, I mean, I know.
I'm from Oregon, okay?
I'll tell you right now,
owls are made of claws,feathers and hatred, okay?
Owls don't give a crap, okay?
Owls hate us.
Owls are like NWA in 1991,if you remember them days, okay?
The gangsters of the woods.
You ever look at an owl?
The rage in its eyes,just sitting in a tree.
Like the only birdthat looks
that crazy and fullof psychotic rage.
It's up there...
(high-pitched voice):"Who... who...
"Who's next to die?It's you, mouse!"
♪ And I'm back hating everythingthat lives. Made of rage. ♪
That's the songin an owl's heart.
I know, I've seen it.(applause)
That's it, you know.
You hear that song, run.
I went to this clothing storenear my house.
I had my hand in my pocket.
For no reason I just hadmy hand in my pocket.
The cashier was like,"Hey, brother,
why you got your handin your pocket?"
And that was the firstand only time in my life
that I wish thatI had a nub.
'Cause I'd be like,
"Sir, this isn't a hand,this is a nub."
(laughter and applause)
"I lost my hand
"in a horrible accident.
And I keep the nub in my pocket'cause it's unsightly."
Then I would havestared him in the face
for 30 seconds solid.
He'd have got uncomfortable."Hey, brother, you want
some free shirts or something?"
I'd be like, "Yeah,I'll take that in blue.
I mean, that in blue."
Can you point with a nub?I don't know.
I don't know if you canpoint with a nub.
I guess it depends if it's a lotof stuff close together...
'cause in that case,you need the precision
that only an index fingercan provide you.
But if it's something by itself,
I guess you can pointwith a nub.
My neighborhood's weird.
I'm pretty sure thecrack dealers in my neighborhood
are working togetherwith the pawnshops.
'Cause why is there a 24-hourpawnshop in my neighborhood?
Regular people don't wake upat 4:00 in the morning, like...
"I feel like sellingmy microwave.
"You know, I just really feellike selling something
"at ten percentof its value.
I just feel likeselling something."
I have weird aspirations.
Like, I really wantto kick a pigeon.
(laughter and applause)
'Cause pigeons walk aroundlike they're invincible.
Like, you're not invincible.
I'll kick the hell out of you.
You're not waiting for the bus'cause you can fly.
I can't kick pigeons
'cause there's alwayspeople around...
and if I kick a pigeon,some woman will say,
"Oh, my gosh, that guy justkicked a pigeon
in broad daylight."
She go homeand tell her husband,
"Honey, I saw this guy kicka pigeon in broad daylight."
Her husband tell his boss,"My wife said
this guy kicked a pigeonin broad daylight."
His boss knows somebodyat the paper.
Next thing you know,front page--
"Black Dudes Are KickingPigeons.
"There's been a flurryof pigeon kicking
"going onin the black community.
"It must be stopped at once.
"Save the pigeons.
"Got to stop these P.K.B.P's--
Save the pigeons."
Acronyms are hilarious.
I don't know why I wantto kick a pigeon.
I just figured it wouldmake my day better.
So I kick a pigeonin the morning,
something bad happensthat evening,
I'm like, "You know what,that happened,
"but I kicked a pigeon earlier.
It was relaxingand invigorating."
I want to have the pigeonkicking Olympics.
Where you get judged
by the distance thatyou kick the pigeon...
the number of feathers you kickoff the pigeon...
and the octave of the squawk.
When you kick the pigeonlike a high-pitched...
That's a gold medal right there.
You kicked the hell outof that pigeon.
You're a goddamn warrior.
You deserve your own statuein the park like, yeah...
Dude, how crazyhas the rain been?
The weather's insane, right?
You see the weather report?
Doesn't it sound sexual to you?
It's like, "Thank you, Tina.
"The cold front's going to comein hard and strong and early.
"It's gonna surprise you.
"Lot of moisture down south.
"Then on Wednesday,the rains come in.
Seven hard inches poundingyou all day long."
"And that pounding won't stoptill the ra...
"the winds come in,
temp drops down,starts blowing you..."
I'm at home like, "What'sthe ten-day forecast?
"This is hot.
"I'm not there yet, bro.
"Give me, give me some time.
Give me some more days."
I feel like mustachesbasically just tell the world,
"Don't trust mearound your kids."
"I'm not safe."
I don't like...
I don't like talkingon the phone.
I hate it.
It's so uncomfortable.
I figured out the best wayof getting off a phone
without having to lie.
Just ask what time it is,
repeat the time really loudlyand then just hang up.
Works every time.
Someone's like, "Owen,what are you doing?"
I'm like, "What time is it?"
They're like, "3:40."
I'm like... "3:40?!"
I'm not doing anything.
I'm just watching the weatherand getting a boner. Just...
People at home...
"Should I clap?
Can he see me?"
I just got outta college, guys.
Thanks for your support.
I didn't really graduate,you know. I just sorta...
I miss it.
I miss college,'cause at college,
when you eat ramen noodles,
it's because you'rea poor college student.
Now when I eat ramen noodles,
it's because I'm a failure.
Mission incomplete.My dinner costs a dime!
I think ramen noodlesneeds a new slogan
right on the front package.
Show some guy cryinginto his bowl
of noodly soup.
"It's over! It's over!"
I love the flavor.What is that, beef? No.
It's loss of pride.
Now, eat up, Skippy, you gotsome dry-walling to do.
Get 'er done, tractor pullat Wal-Mart.
Here's your sign.
Then he just shootsguns in the air.
of you guys in New York.
I am proud of you guys.
I walked around this cityall day and I haven't seen
one girl with "Juicy"written on her butt.
Why was that? Thatwas so cool for a while.
"It's true 'cause it'swritten...
that it's juicy."
What? You don't see guys writingstuff down their thighs.
(whispers):That means "thickness around."
I don't even understandthat phrase, "juicy."
I like my juice from apples.
Never looked at a woman'sbackside and went, "Ughh...
I am thirsty."
"I am parched. I needsome butt juice!"
"Eww, that's gross.
Really? Butt juice?Right up front?"
Yeah, I did it.