• 02/26/2015

Marc Maron's hypochondria leads him to a neurologist, Ms. Pat discovers the importance of having big breasts, and Steve Rannazzisi's mission for a late-night snack goes awry.

Not too long ago I woke up,and I was in my bed.

I'm, like, all right, well yougot nothing to do today.

Why not just spend the daythinking you have cancer?


And I had symptoms of something.

I had these tinglingin my hands,

and my feet were tingling.

So, I'm, like, I better Googlethis shit.

And any time you Googlesymptoms, know in your heart

that all you're doing is lookingto confirm that you're dying.

That's all you're heading for.

So, I start Googling"hands tingling,"

and I'm, like,I got a brain tumor.

So, I call my doctor up,my regular doctor,

and I'm, like, I'm in trouble.

My hands are tingling,my feet are tingling.

I'm pretty sure I probablyhave cancer in my brain, right?

And she's, like, what?

I'm, like, my hands and feet

are tingling,what else could that be?

And she's, like, nothing.It could be nothing.

And I'm, like, but I want to seea neurologist because I think,

I'm pretty sureI have a brain tumor.

I Googled it,and it seemed to add up.

She's, like, I'm not sending youto a neurologist, all right?

You come back in two weeksand if this is still happening

I'll think about sending youto a neurologist.

I'm thinking, like, oh, it'sgonna be happening in two weeks.

I'll make sure of that.

So, I go back two weeks laterand go, it's happening.

We're on with the cancer.

And she's, like, I don't thinkit's anything,

but I'll send youto a neurologist.

I'm, like, thank you.

So, I make an appointmentat the neurologist.

This guy was--this was insane.

So, I walkinto this neurologist.

He's about 80.I'm not saying that's bad.

I'm not an ageist,but he looked over it.

There's nothing worsethan going to a doctor

and they're, like, bleh, what?

All right.

So, I walk in to this guyand I say,

you know, my hands are tinglingand my feet are tingling.

And I think I'm in trouble.

Swear to you, the guy grabsone of my hands

and he presses his thumb into it

and he goes,that one's all right.

And then he, like,he does the same thing

to the other one.And he goes those are fine.

I'm, like,are you even a real doctor?

And I go what about the feet?

He goes, take your shoesand socks off.

I take my shoesand socks off--takes a pencil,

and rubs the eraser endat the bottom of my foot

and goes, that one's fine.

I'm, like, are you kidding me?

I'm, like,what kind of tests are these?

I want to see a diploma.

And then I go what about my ear?

My ear's clogging up.He goes, oh, we should probably

get you an MRI,and I'm, like, thank you.

That's all I was looking for,was the opportunity

to have an MRI.

So I go to the MRI place.

Have you had an MRI?

The machine takes upthe whole room.

It's huge.Big, arcing thing.

Got a hole in the middlewith a gurney.

It's such a great machine,

an amazing piece of technology,that the guy that operates it,

he's got to sit in a booth,like, away from it,

and do the controls,like he's NASA,

you know, for the MRI machine.

So, this amazing pieceof technology,

the guy comes out of his booth,

he lays me out,he straps me down or whatever.

He lays me on the gurneyand he slides me in

and he goes back to his boothand within 10 seconds

it starts goingdun-nun-nun-nun-nun-nun-nun-nun!

And I'm, like,what the hell is that?

Does it need oil?

What kind of machinemakes that noise?

Then it's, like,nin-nin-nin-nin.

I'm, like, what kindof bullshit machine is this?

Is there a guy in thereoperating it?

I literally--when I was in that machine

I had a fantasy at the endof the day, a little person

walked out and went,that was a rough day.

You're, like,he was in there doing something.

So, I don't know what the hellwas going on with the machine.

I could Google thatinstead of cancer

and I'd know what was going onin the machine,

but I like the idea ofa little man working in there.

So, I left it at that.

So, the guy--

I'm in there 45 minutes,and the guy pulls me

out of the machine and goes,you did real good in there.

I'm, like, well, there's a skillI didn't know I had.

I can exist in a tubefor up to an hour.

If I ever need that.

So, now I'm face-to-facewith this dude, this technician,

and I go sodid you see the results?

And he goes, yeah,I'm the technician.

I saw them.

And I'm, like, well, what's up?

He's, like, I'm not a doctor.I can't tell you that.

And I'm, like, I'm lookinghim right in the eye,

and I'm, like, but you know.

You're looking meright in the eye.

You know if I have a tumorin my brain.

You know if I'm dying right now

and you're not gonna[bleep] tell me?

You're not gonna[bleep] tell me,

but you know if I'm dyingor not?

But I didn't say that.I probably said, oh, okay.


So, I swear this happened.

I'm about to leave the MRI roomand he goes,

"Take care of yourself."


I don't know how he talks.

All I heard was,

"Good luck with the cancer."

So, now I'm freaking out.

I need to know nowwhether or not

I got brain cancer,

'causeI plan to start drinking again.

So, I wait there for a half hourand he gives me the results.

I drive them to my doctor'soffice that afternoon,

and I'm, like,hi, can he look at these now?

And she's, like, he'll lookat them between 3:00 and 6:00.

I'm, like, what is he?The [bleep] cable guy?

This guy can't--you can't focus in on a time

and I got to waittill the end of the day?

So, then the guycalls me, like, at 6:00.

He's, like, hello, Marc.This is Dr. Rosen.

And I'm, like, hi, what's up?

He goes, well,I looked at your MRI results.

And I'm, like, uh-huh?

And he goes,

"You have a normal brainfor a man your age."

So, good news, but a littlestick, you know what I mean?

You know...

no cancer,but I'm not gifted in any way.

But even after he told meall that stuff, like,

he wasn't clear enough with me.

'Cause he's, like, all right,so, if you need anything

that I can help you with,please call me back,

and I go, thank you very much.And I'm, like, wait!

No tumors, right?There were no tumors?

As if he's going to go,oh, shit,

I didn't mention that?Yeah--

Yeah, your brain's fullof tumors.

Good luck with that.

Thank you.

Tonight I'ma tell you howmy big titties saved my life.

[cheers and applause]

So, it was the summer of 1988.

I'm 16 years old,

I got two kids,two and one years old,

and I'm living in the hoodin Atlanta.

And in this hood, you know,I'm trying to survive.

So, I go outand start me a small business.

Well, I was selling crack,

but we gonna call ita small business tonight.

Okay, white people?

'Cause when you 16 years oldin the hood

and you got two kids,

there's only two thingsyou can do for a job.

Either sell drugsor sell your body.

So, I did the onethat paid the most.

So, I had to advertisethis business.

And I couldn't go out, you know,

and try to get no [bleep]commercial or no flashy signs

or no shit like that.

So, I had to advertise the waywe do in the hood.

I went out and bought mea 1980 Fleetwood Cadillac

from the junkyard for $500.

And I put $9,500 into it.

Rims and paint.

So, I take this carand I paint it pearl white,

with 1,001 gold flakes in it.

And white people, you probablydon't know what the hell

I'm talking about,but when you got a paint job

with 1,001 gold flakes,you the shit in the hood.

So, I'm sitting in my carone day with one of my clients,

running inventorythrough my small business.

I always had to keep a clientin the car with me,

'cause I was 16 years oldwith a learner's permit,

and I didn't want to riskthe chance

of losing my [bleep] permit.


So, I'm sitting there one day,and one of my rivals walk up,

and he hit the back of my car.

And he's just yell, Rabbit,

get the hell out of the carwith your fat ass.

Now, Rabbit is my hood name.

'Cause you can't goby your real name in the hood.

Patricia don't sound toughat all.

I get out the carand we arguing,

and he [bleep] spit on my car.

Now, it wasn't a regular spit,people.

'Cause I wouldn't have got mad.

It was the type of spit thathe pulled from his damn navel.

The first thingI'm thinking, like,

this [bleep] done [bleep]chipped one of my gold flakes.

I paid a lot of moneyfor that paint job.

So, I go to my car'cause I got to be tough,

and I'm a girl.I reach in the car

and grab my baby bag,

and I move the Pampers over.

Then I move the crack over.

Then I get my pistol.

'Cause you knowI'm a good mama.

You got to keep all the shittogether.

And so I take my gun

and I stick it to his dick.

And I said, now,get that shit off of my car

before I turn your dickinto a blooming onion.


He wiped the spit off.

And I said, now,get the hell out of here.

He walks away.

He get halfway up the hilland he turn around

and he was, like,when I come back, bitch,

I'ma kill you.

Now, I'm from the hood.You hear that shit every day.

You don't believe ittill they lay you down.

White people, don't letthis white guilt get you, okay?

Relax, this shit is funny.

And five minutes later,

I'm serving customersand he come back.

Now, he's shooting.

Now, I don't knowif you ever been in a shootout

with black people before,

but when they comedown the hill and they running

and they shoot, I thinkthat make the bullets go faster.


But I want to shoot back

'cause I got my pistolin my hand.

But what I realized,

my pistol wouldn't shootbecause the shit was on safety.

Now, I don't know if you everbeen in a shootout before,

but if you're ever in a shootoutand you shooting,

and your shit on safety, younot in a shootout any longer.


You being shot at.

So, I take off running,and I'm running down the hill,

and my [bleep] tittiesjust flying in my face.

And I'm tryingto hold my titties down.

'Cause you know,these titties young.

They took off runningbefore I did.

I run down the hill,and I jumped over this fence,

and I run intomy girlfriend house.

She was, like, why you got bloodall over your shirt?

And I look downand I'm, like, damn.

I done snaggedmy [bleep] nipple on the fence.

She called 911, y'all,and the EMT pull up.

A little white guy, and hewas, like, ma'am, what happened?

I'm, like, I think I snaggedmy [bleep] nipple on the fence.


So, the EMT guytried to take my bra off.

And, you know,I got a big set of titties.

I've had these same tittiessince the third grade.

So, he's back theretrying to take my bra off

and he's struggling like hell.

I was, like, oh, evidently, younever dealt with real titties.

Let me give you a hand, EMT.

So, I had to bend my back in

where my back tittieswill help him unbutton my bra.


So, he take my bra loose,and then my right titty

just fall outlike it was in a drive-by.

So, he picked it up and he was,like, I think you've been shot.

I was, like,you think I've been shot?

So, he lift my arm up and hewas, like, you got an entrance

and it came outthrough your nipple.

That's your exit.

So, I'm thinking, like,this [bleep] blew my nip off?

Like a bull's-eye?

And so he's, like,

I need to get youto the hospital.

So, I get to the hospital,y'all,

and the doctor examinedmy titty and he was, like,

ma'am, he blew your nip off.

I'm, like, I [bleep] heard.

He was, like, well, ma'am,you really lucky.

Because if you was a A-cup,you would have died.

Them little tittieswould've got you killed, baby.

These real titties.They save life.

Thank you all so much.I'm Ms. Pat.