- No, I fell--back in December, I fell.
I fell real bad as I was, uh--
I was at home.I fell in the shower.
I was drunk.I was drinking in the shower.
I drink in my shower.
I drink in my shower,
not like I need to drink so muchthat it carries over.
I wait for the shower.
I choose to drink in the shower
because everybody deservesa spa day in this world, and--
I'm glad you agree with me.
Why is it perfectly acceptable,
oh, drive out somewhereand go to a spa,
and if you lay downin their establishment
with rose petals and champagne,that's fine?
But I do it verticallyin my own home
with a six-pack on the backof the toilet for easy reaching,
I'm some sort of scumbagall of a sudden?
It's the one roomyou can be alone and naked
and have a cocktail in.
Every other room in your househas a drink appointed to it.
What are you--are you on the porch?
Have a mint julepon the porch.
Oh, what,are you in your living room?
Have a sophisticated scotchor a snifter of brandy.
What, are you in the garage,
tinkering aroundwith your motorcycle?
Have a beer in the garage.
But, oh, I'm gonna havesomething in the bathroom, like,
you should probably goto meetings.
No, man, I don't need to go.
I set it up.I have an event for myself.
I have the drinkson the back of the toilet.
Don't bring them in therewith you.
You don't need them that close.
I have a waterproof Bluetoothspeaker for the shower shelf.
I put the iPod on shufflein the other room,
and I let Steve Jobs DJ my moodfrom beyond the grave.
And he gets it right!
All right, DJ Steve.
That's the 160-gig model,35,000 songs.
I got about nine ex-roommates'libraries on there.
What can you do for me?
Five Motorhead tunes,then three Lionel Richie jams.