I'm thinking about changing my name.
I don't like Bryan.Bryan Callen.
It sounds likea piece of wet cotton
hitting the floor,you know what I'm talking about?
Dead before you get outof the gates, you know, guy?
Change my nameto something sexy,
something animalistic, like...
(snarls like a cat)
Isn't that hot name?Just... (snarls)
Sounds like an angry tomcat.
Just my name, honey.
My last name is gonna besomething really macho,
something hard, something male.
Like... (sudden gasp)
Something that hurtsyour vocal cords to say,
so it costs you somethingto say my name!
Nobody's named...(snarls, gasps)
I got a problemwith my hair, though.
Jumping ship quick.
I'm taking that Propecia,nothing.
Gets wet, looks likea piece of lettuce, okay?
That's not how you get girls.
I want that long,black Johnny Depp hair.
I want it just...I want a black waterfall
all over my body.
And I'll get it, too.
I'm gonna get it,I just found out.
'Cause I read recentlyin a hair journal...
...they're gonna be ableto clone hair
in less than ten years.
That's a fact.
Biotechnology.And by the way,
they're gonna be ableto genetically engineer it.
You can have any kindof hair you want.
I'm getting a horse tail, okay?
That's what I'm getting.I don't want hair.
I'm getting a horse...And by the way,
I'm starting my hairlineright here at the eyebrows.
I don't want a forehead.
Foreheads are overrated--they're just wrinkly and shiny.
It's all media hype.I'm just gonna get a horse tail.
I'm just gonna be, like...(neighs)
Every time a girl looks at you,
you just take a big sloppy biteout of a peach.
Maybe I'll just kind of
hang out on a motorcycle.
Picture this,let me paint the picture.
By the way, I'm not gonna ridethe motorcycle,
'cause I'm notinto brain injury.
Doesn't matter. Doesn't matter.
It's the look, all right?
Now, check it out,say you're
a single girl, you're coming outof your favorite coffee shop,
you're sipping a frappuccino,whatever, okay?
At first I looklike a normal guy.
Why? 'Cause I'm wearinga helmet--
safety first, all right?
So you don't see the partyI got coiled up
like a cobra!
Like a cobra!
Till I pull my helmet off real slow
and just eh, eh, eh!
(British accent):Would you like to geton the back of my bike
and pretend to ride?
Mm-hmm. I havea peach hip basket
brimming with peaches.
Peaches for everybody!
Nobody has a horse tail,a fake motorcycle
and a peach hip basket-- I will.
I'm gonna make a fortunewith my hair, too,
You know what my jobis gonna be?
You got a horse tail?You're a painter.
That's what you do-- I'm gonnabe an avant-garde painter.
Let me explain.Check it out.
Hanging out.No shirt, whatever.
Baggy pants tied offwith a rope.
You know what?
Maybe no pants;maybe just rope.
I don't know, I don't know,I'm avant-garde,
I'm hanging out in my Soho loft.
I got huge vatsof white, oily paint.
And I paint stuff...
with my hair.
Just dipping the hair!I mean, with dipping... (grunts)
(European accent):I made this for you.
It's called I Love You Too Much.
I got to go. Thanks, guys.