Then I gotta go to abouncy house party
every Saturday or Sunday.
You know what that is?
Inflatable castleon some dickhead's front lawn.
All kinds of kidsin there jumping around
like coked-upyoung Republicans
at a John Boehnerwarehouse party.
And I'm not sure what happenswhen my kids get in there,
but something switches,and they start
trying to take other kids outat any opportunity.
It's forearm shiversfor everybody.
It's likean illegal cage fight for them.
It's like,"Welcome to the Octagon.
Two babies enter,one baby leave."
Vietnamese baby starts smokingcigarettes and gambling outside,
screaming, "Take him out!Take him out!"
Little baby throws a rooster injust to make it interesting.
But luckily,a bouncy house is like
an alternate universewhere pain doesn't exist.
They're so happyto be in there.
I saw the same littleshitty kid
who'd cry if youlooked at him funny,
little sensitive boy,
come shootingout of the bouncy house.
He hit one of the bumpsthe wrong way and then came
firing through the Velcrostraps, circus cannon style.
Just shoo!Mangles his ass on the driveway.
And all the other dads
are like, "Holy shit!
Try not to react, so he doesn'trealize how jacked up he is."
I swear to you,he just rose up,
popped his shoulderback in
like Mel Gibsonin Lethal Weapon,
mumbled some shitabout whores and Jews,
and went backinto the bouncy house,
[cheers and applause]