I'm not really Oh, wow. I hurt myself stretching. It's myself. Folks, how are you?

Welcome to the show, I'm in a good mood.

It's Thursday.

This is my fucking long weekend starting.

Ooh, a few cigarettes yesterday.

Can you hear it?

Can you taste it? Wouldn't even touch them if the wife didn't fucking buy them.

You know, it's about access.

Same with food. I could be fucking shredded. I could be 180.

Because when I was single, I didn't buy fucking food.

You open the fridge, a thing of stoly vodka, a little bit of Chinese food from three weeks ago.

Maggots crawling out.

Then you don't touch that.

You're like, look, I'm shredded.

That was hard to do in Astoria because I had butcher shops next to me with

fucking pork chops this big in the window and fucking oh my god you know but store it just

authentic whatever you wanted Christ I was eating like bin Laden Indian

fucking Pakistani trying all that shit I used to go into this butcher shop he had a wheel.

Wheel of pomegran I think he told me it costs like $2,000 he would he would fucking cut the chunk off the wheel for me.

I'd go home and spank it all over it,

making a nice brie.

What the fucks him out with you?

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