Ladies and gentlemen...
Whitney Cummings!
This is awesome.
I am shooting my fourth stand-up special
this evening
in my hometown, Washington DC.
Thank you.
Thank you so much.
A lot's happened
since I made a stand-up special.
A lot's gone on in the past year.
I don't know if you noticed,
but people started caring
about sexual harassment all of a sudden.
That came out of fucking nowhere.
I feel like the sexual harassment news
has finally been going on long enough
to where my guy friends feel comfortable
complaining about
how hard it's been for them.
Anyone have any guy friends
who are acting like they have no idea
how to behave at the office?
All of a sudden, my guy friends say,
"What, so I can't even hug a woman
at work anymore?"
You never could.
It's why we're in this mess.
No one wants to bump nipples with you
at 9 a.m...
by the Keurig machine.
It's weird.
But as I say that,
I want you guys to know, I get it.
Of course you want to touch women.
They're so freaking cute.
They're impossible to resist.
I relate to your frustration,
because sometimes I will see
a service dog at the airport.
And it's wearing a little vest.
It says, "Dog working, do not pet."
Now I'm in a pickle.
Because I'm going to pet that fucking dog.
This is going down the easy way
or the hard way.
I mean, it's a dog. It obviously wants it.
I get your logic.
And it is asking for it
with that adorable little butt.
I can see its butthole.
If that's not asking for it,
I don't know what is.
But I don't. I never pet a service dog.
It's that vest. You're like, "Oh, God,
that dog's in the middle of something."
You respect that vest.
I think that's what we need to start doing
at work.
Women need to start wearing
little vests to work.
"Lady working.
Do not hug.
Shit to do."
I feel like we were all getting
a little sloppy at the office.
I used to work with this guy.
Every day, he'd run past me, he'd put
his hands in between my butt cheeks,
like this,
and he'd yell to the whole office.
He'd go, "I'm swiping a credit card,
I'm swiping a credit card."
I thought it was hilarious.
I'd be like, "You're declined.
You're declined.
Your card did not go through.
No, it didn't."
That's on me. That is on me.
Um, that's my bad.
I'm not proud of that.
But now credit card machines,
they have a chip reader now.
So you'd have to do that,
and that is not okay. That is wrong.
That's wrong.
I have a couple of guy friends
who are trying so hard
to not be creepy at work
that they're doing way creepier shit
by accident.
One of my guy friends
tried to compliment a woman he works with
and he called her "wife material."
He got in trouble and had no idea why.
He said, "What do you mean?
That's not even sexual."
Calling a woman "wife material,"
that's like saying,
"I could fuck you forever.
So I'm going to make you sign a contract,
so that, if you want to get away from me,
you have to hire a lawyer."
Just think it through. Think it through.
People really want to challenge me
about all these women coming forward.
Someone came up to me
and was like, "Well, how do these women
even remember what happened?"
Like, "Oh, because we're known
for our amazing ability to forget shit.
Uh, we're known for just letting things go
after a while. It's our thing."
Maybe some people don't understand
that when you get harassed at a young age,
you might not even put together
that that's what's occurring
until later in life when you're an adult.
That was one of my experiences.
When I was 19 years old, I got a job
as an extra in a television show.
The first day I was there, the director,
who was at least 65 years old,
invited me into his trailer for lunch.
So I go into his trailer.
And I know what you're thinking.
"Why did you go into his trailer?"
Because I was an idiot.
I was 19 years old.
No one had told me trailers were bad.
There was a lot of shit I didn't know.
I also thought clear bra straps
were clear.
Um...
I also thought that lady
living with my aunt was her "roommate."
I also thought
guys could be "allergic to latex."
There was a lot of shit...
...I hadn't figured out yet.
Don't blame me.
So of course I go into his trailer.
Out of nowhere, he just lunges at me.
I didn't understand what was happening
because he was so much older than me.
I thought he fell.
I was like, "Are you okay? Oh, my God.
Are you passing away? What's happening?"
No idea what to do with that story.
I don't remember the guy's name,
but the good news is
I did accidentally stumble
upon a great way
to deal with harassment at work
from a creepy guy.
Just pretend you think
he's having a medical emergency.
Next time a guy's like,
"Hey, sweetie, want to get a drink later?"
just go,
"Oh, my God, someone call an ambulance!
Gary thinks he's in my league!
I don't know if it's, like, dementia
or maybe it's a stroke.
Gary thinks I would fuck him.
We've got to call an ambulance!
This is bad."
Don't get angry.
Just get very compassionate.
That's my new approach.
I don't even get angry
at cat-callers anymore.
My new thing with cat-callers
is just do what they ask.
Because then they'll realize
it's not at all what they want.
Next time a guy's like,
"Hey, baby, smile," just be like...
People really want to argue with me
about this stuff.
I had a guy come at me
and he was like, "You know,
what if women start taking advantage?"
We got it.
We'll handle it when that happens.
I love that you guys think
that we have no idea
that some women are batshit crazy.
We know.
Okay? We know way more shit
than you know.
We see the text messages
she didn't send to you.
We know.
We see the ones that are too crazy
to even get to your phone...
because we're the ones
that put a stop to that shit.
We're the ones like, "No, you're not going
to kidnap his mom. Delete it, delete it.
Give me the phone. Give it to me.
Put the phone down.
That's too many bubbles.
He hasn't responded in five days.
Give me the phone.
You're not sending that.
You're not going to send an Adele song
with six eggplant emojis.
Give it to me. Log out now."
We know.
You guys just don't know that we know
because we're in this climate
where everyone's walking on eggshells
and no one's allowed to say
anything negative about a woman
or people freak out. That's not healthy.
We have to get back to a place
where we can call out women
if they're acting like silly gooses.
And there are some silly gooses out there.
Does anyone have any girl friends
that think they're "feminists,"
but they're actually just "assholes"?
Someone's got to say it.
But I also think we have to be patient
with women right now.
You've got to understand,
this came out of nowhere.
For thousands of years,
nobody cared about our feelings,
nobody cared about our opinions.
Then a year ago, everyone was like,
"What do you think?" It was like...
"What the fuck?
I'm sorry,
can you just give us one second?
We were not at all prepared
for that question.
It's just no one has ever
asked us that before.
Can you just give us a minute?
We were just taking a selfie
with dog ears.
Just give us one second.
We're going to regroup
and come right back to you with an answer.
Bitches, huddle up right now.
Um, they give a shit about us
all of a sudden
and we have absolutely no practice
being listened to,
so we need to level the fuck up right now.
Some things need to change around here.
First of all,
the 'ros all day' shirts have to go.
Just for a couple of years
till we get out of the woods on this.
'Namastay in bed, '
it's not a sophisticated argument.
No more sassy shirts for a while.
You stop saying, 'totes.'
You're 40. Um...
We might have to stop calling each other
hookers and whores for a while."
- Does anyone have that girl friend?
- "Hey, hooker."
I actually think we need to steal from
what guys do with their nicknames,
because guys build each other up
with their nicknames, right?
"What up, champ?"
"What up, chief?"
"What up, boss?"
Guys give each other promotions
in their nicknames.
I make television shows. I have an intern.
He's 20 years old.
People walk in, they're like,
"What up, boss?" I'm like, "What?
No, I'm your boss.
I'm your boss. That's nobody's boss.
That's my friend's nephew
who was too stupid to get a job,
so I had to give him an internship...
because he got a two on his SATs...
...so that's nobody's boss.
Okay?
Best case scenario, he will be a hooker.
So let's just get this... I'm your boss."
I don't like any nicknames
my girl friends give me.
They'll be like,
"Hey, honey. Hey, cupcake."
I'm like, "What are you doing? You don't
like it when guys call you that."
Let's just all stop calling women desserts
for a while.
If you must call a woman a dessert,
at least pick a cool dessert, you know.
Like bear claw.
"What up, bear claw?" That's fine.
Mousse. "Mousse!"
"Alright, get back in the huddle.
There's more shit to do.
Okay, I think, for a while,
we need to stop yelling at guys
when they drive by in a sports car."
Does anyone have that girl friend?
When a guy drives by in a sports car,
they go, "Sorry about your dick."
How is that helping?
You're making us look like hypocrites,
right?
Because, if the roles were reversed
in that scenario,
it would be so messed up, right?
If a woman drove by in a sports car
and a guy was like,
"Sorry about your giant pussy!"
Not a good look.
"What else? We've got to watch
what we prioritize on social media.
We've got to watch the causes
we prioritize on social media.
Free The Nipple?
Not this month. Next month."
Unless you're breastfeeding, in which case
you can do whatever the hell you want
with your nipple as far as I am concerned.
If your nipple has proven
to be of use to society,
you may free it.
But I think we can all agree,
a breastfeeding nipple is not free.
That nipple is working.
We need to get it a little vest.
Like a little, tiny...
Like a...
Like a baby vest.
I think the biggest thing
I want to work on with my girl friends
is telling the difference
between empowerment and entitlement.
It's a fine line.
Very easy to confuse those two.
Like I have this one girl friend,
she thinks she's very empowered,
but she's actually just entitled and
it comes out in the way that she complains
that no man is good enough for her,
even though all she does is talk
about astrology and go to music festivals.
She has no concept of what she deserves.
Like, she will go to a music festival
for five days
and do drugs the entire time,
and then she'll come back
and she'll be like, "I told you,
there's just no good men out there."
No, there are good men out there.
They're just at home
with their good women.
You're never going to meet them,
because they're not at Burning Man
watching you puke on your slutty
Native American Indian costume.
We get in fights
because she generalizes a lot
about, like, all men and all women.
I know it's weird
that I'm criticizing that,
because generalizing about men
and women did pay for my house, but...
I'm evolving
and I now find that
really frustrating to engage with.
I had a guy come at me on social media.
He said,
"Well, all women are just liars."
All women? Okay,
let's say some of these women are liars.
Just for a thought experiment.
You have to admit the reaction
of men lying
and women lying in our culture
is very different.
You've seen the movie Catch Me If You Can.
Great movie. It's about a con artist.
He pretends to be a doctor,
pretends to be a pilot.
So if you're a woman and you lie,
you're a monster.
If you're a man and you lie,
you get a movie made about you
starring Leonardo DiCaprio.
What do we get? We got fucking I, Tonya.
That's what we got.
You have to be in a leotard
for anyone to give a shit.
I also did research
on the guy that movie is based on.
He now works at the FBI.
They pay him millions of dollars
to consult on other con artists.
So if you're a man and you lie,
that's like a hireable skill.
People don't like when women lie.
They get very uncomfortable
when women lie.
That's my theory
about why there's no female magicians.
Never thought about that shit before?
Because when men lie,
we're like, "Whoa, magic!"
If there was a female magician,
after every trick,
everyone in the audience would be like,
"I fucking knew it.
What did I tell you? I told you,
you cannot trust these bitches.
Sneaky bitches."
The other generalization I keep hearing
is, "Well, all these women
are just gold-diggers."
Like, okay, fine.
Let's say... Let's say some of these women
are gold-diggers.
You guys have to admit
that you guys were afraid of gold-diggers
way before this even happened.
It's hard for us to hear you guys
complain about gold-diggers.
Because when you guys
complain about gold-diggers
to us, it kind of just sounds
like you're bragging.
We're like, "Alright, well,
a lot of the reason you have all that gold
is because you have the advantage
of being a guy."
Especially in the goods
and services industry,
a lot of the reason you have that money
is because we buy a bunch of shit
we don't fucking need.
So if I'm dating the head of Sephora
and I gold-dig him,
I'm not using him for his money.
I'm using him for my money.
That is my money.
I'm just trying to get
that shit back. Um...
"I feel like you gold-digged me first.
Bronzer should not be $90."
When guys complain about gold-diggers,
it's tricky,
because, to us,
the solution is so obvious.
If you're worried about gold-diggers,
I have an idea.
How about just date women
with their own fucking gold?
I don't know,
maybe stop dating 18-year-olds
that need a Kickstarter campaign
just to eat dinner.
Maybe just date adults with jobs.
I don't know.
I don't know.
No, no, no.
Also, it's very ironic to me
when guys complain about gold-diggers,
because you know
you were the original gold-diggers, right?
You know your great-great-grandfathers
got a bunch of shovels
and started digging up actual gold...
before women were allowed
to leave the house.
I would love to dig for gold
the old-fashioned way
and get, like, a pickax
and, like, a salad strainer
and go get my own gold,
but you guys took it all
and you refused to share, so...
now we're going to have to do this
the hard way...
and be in a bad relationship for two years
and hope that you cheat on me.
And I feel like I can say that,
because I have had a guy use me
for my gold before
and I've noticed,
when you hear the word "gold-digger,"
you think of a woman right away.
Men use women for their money, too.
They're not called "gold-diggers."
They're called, like, "backup dancers."
They have, like, a...
They have, like, a jaunty name.
It's hard to talk about this stuff
without sounding self-righteous.
That's my nightmare.
I'm trying to not sound self-righteous
about all this,
because it's my pet peeve when people
are self-righteous in conversations.
And I try to remember though
that when someone's self-righteous,
it usually just means
they care so much about something
that they become an asshole.
Right? I do it. I'm guilty. I am guilty.
I am very into animal advocacy. And...
Oh, thank you. Oh, that's very nice.
I don't have kids.
What else am I going to do?
There are times when I am so passionate
about protecting an innocent animal
that I will be a jerk to a human.
It happens... kind of a lot.
And...
recently, I saw a stray dog
at this huge intersection in Los Angeles
and nobody was stopping.
Nobody was stopping,
so I pull over and I can see
- that it's a little, tiny puppy.
- Aww!
I know!
And I could tell
it was in really bad shape, okay?
So I get out of my car
and this guy yells at me.
He's like, "You dumb bitch!"
and I was like, "Fuck you!"
So I'm screaming at all these people.
I finally get, like, 12 lanes to stop
and I get closer to this puppy
and I get closer and closer
to this little, tiny puppy
and I see that this little, tiny puppy
is a trash bag.
But I had already been such an asshole...
that there was really no turning back
at this point, so I just had to...
Just had to lean in.
And that's how I got tetanus.
I am realizing that the guy friends
of mine that are the most self-righteous
I actually think might be the ones
that have done nothing wrong.
They assume
these women must be exaggerating,
because they themselves would never behave
the way they're seeing
in the news stories.
Like you would never pull your dick out
at work, sir.
Of course not.
Of course not. It would be ridiculous.
Woo!
It would be crazy for you to do that.
That would be an insane thing to do.
But...
you have that one friend
you can totally see doing that shit.
What's his name?
- Jeffrey.
- Jeffrey.
Anyone that goes by Jeffrey
instead of Jeff is a fucking asshole.
He likes to waste people's time
with his full name.
Jeffrey.
That's who we're talking about, right?
I try to remind my guy friends,
we're not attacking you. We're just...
You have to remember that the world
is a little more dangerous for us
because of the Jeffreys of the world.
Like, you know we have to take a class
to learn how to go outside, right?
Has anyone ever taken
a self-defense class before?
Okay. Yeah. That's a lot. Wow, okay.
Like, 25 women. The rest are dead. Okay.
I took a self-defense class in my 20s
and I think we could maybe update
the tactics a little bit.
I remember, the tactics she told me,
I physically can't even execute.
She was like,
"If your attacker gets you on the ground,
gouge his eyes out."
What the fuck?
I can't even open a package from Amazon...
without getting a paper cut.
I can hardly get a straw in a Capri Sun,
so...
I'm not sure this tactic is for me.
None of it was pragmatic.
She said to us,
"Never get in an elevator with a man."
"Bitch, have you ever had a job?
Have you ever seen
an office building before?
It's basically a bunch of elevators
full of men."
If I didn't get in an elevator
every time a man was in it,
I'd constantly look like I was trying
to get into a double Dutch game.
"It's fine. Just go.
You go. Okay, I'll just quit.
No."
We have to be able to get into elevators
with men.
We have jobs now.
But I know that's a very sketchy thing
to do and I know it could be dangerous,
so now,
when I get in an elevator with a man,
I just try to make myself as unattractive
as possible.
So I just hit all the buttons...
so that we're instantly
in a long-term relationship
and he's completely disgusted by me.
I'm like, "You want me, you've got me...
for 36 more floors
and I want to talk about The Bachelor."
- Huh.
- Woo!
I used to carry Mace.
I don't carry Mace anymore,
because I find the packaging
way too patronizing.
When you try to buy Mace as a woman,
they sell you Mace in a pink bottle.
I'm trying to look scary.
I'm trying to look menacing.
Don't give me something that looks like
a toy out of Dora the Explorer's backpack.
"Mm, Swiper, no swiping.
Mm, don't even think about it. Meh!"
Not really the vibe I'm going for.
A lot of my girl friends talk about
how, when they walk to their car,
they put a key in between their fingers.
Yeah, but they don't even make
metal car keys anymore.
The new car keys
are those little plastic remotes,
so that's a conspiracy.
Think about that shit for a minute.
The one weapon we have
has been taken from us.
So now I've got to use my mailbox key...
like an asshole.
A little shitty Wolverine.
Could you come forward a fucking inch?
A little shitty Wolverine.
I'm just kind of tickling my attacker
at this point.
Just kind of delicately caressing him.
It's kind of bringing him to climax
at this point.
You look like a villain in an '80s movie,
just FYI.
It's no joke out there. It's no...
I have a girl friend,
she carries a Taser with her.
But Google, "Taser for women."
It's even more insulting.
They try to sell you a Taser
that looks like a tube of lipstick.
It's disguised as a tube of lipstick.
You're supposed to fool your attacker.
The only person that's going to fool
is fucking me.
I'm not falling for that racket.
I argue,
the best weapon against an attacker,
not lipstick Taser, not Taser,
just regular lipstick.
Red lipstick. Put it in your back pocket.
Any time a guy's hovering,
creeping around,
just take it out and start putting it on.
Just be like...
"Is that what you want?
Ah-ahh!
You wanna fuck this clown?"
Sometimes you've just got to
out-weird your attacker.
You've just got to make it
not worth it to them.
You know, he's going to be like, "Uh...
You're good. You're good.
You run along. You have a good night.
Leave it. She's one of us. Leave it."
I think you guys just might not know
how dangerous the world is for us.
You guys just don't have
the same experience out in the world.
Your biggest fear
when you walk to your car tonight, sir,
is there's going to be a ticket.
That's scary shit.
Our biggest fear when we walk to our car
is there's going to be a dick...
attached to a criminal...
named Jeffrey...
...waiting for us.
You guys are cool,
you're not getting defensive.
Sometimes guys get defensive
and that's never good.
I had a guy come up to me
after a show recently
and he was like,
"Hey, this isn't really very fair.
We offer to walk you gals to your cars
all the time."
I was like, "Yeah, you do.
Why?
So you can try and fuck us. That's why."
Those are our options.
Get murdered by a stranger
or dry humped by my "chaperone"...
against my car that I pay for.
Cool.
Not really chivalry
if we owe you at the end.
It's hard to talk about this stuff
without coming off too angry.
I don't want to come off angry
or anti-man.
I am not. I'm engaged to a man.
I'm going to marry a man.
I mean...
we'll see.
I love him very much,
but when we talk about this stuff,
sometimes the conversations get awkward
because he hasn't had a lot of trauma
in his life.
We have a very different definition
of the concept of trauma
and sometimes
it makes our conversations weird.
One time, we were talking about bad things
that had happened to us in our childhoods
and I'm going on and on and on...
He cuts me off.
He goes, "You know, something really
messed up happened to me when I was five."
And I was like,
"Oh, my God, baby, what happened?"
He goes, "When I was five,
I woke up on Christmas Eve
and I saw my dad wrapping gifts."
And I was like, "And then he fucked you?"
He was like, "That's when I found out
there's no Santa Claus."
I was like, "Oh, okay. Oh.
That's your definition of struggle?
You thought one guy
was giving you presents
and then you found out another guy
was giving you the exact same presents."
You realize girls are thrilled
when we find out there's no Santa Claus?
We're like, "Thank God I don't have to
sit on that weirdo's lap at the mall.
I always thought that was sketchy."
He's not afraid of anything.
It's unbelievable.
Nothing scares this guy.
One time, we were walking
down my street at night.
There's a man I've never seen before
standing at the window of a house
staring out at the street like this.
So I'm like, "Let's call the police.
Let's go."
He goes, "Babe, calm down.
He probably just sold the house
and he's waiting for the realtor
to bring him his check."
"I'm sorry. Th-th-that's what you see?
That's what you make of this scenario?
Okay.
So I see Dexter and you see a millionaire
having a great day.
It must be nice
to just go through life like that."
He's like, "Yeah.
The guy just sold his house,
sounds awesome."
It's hard to talk to my girl friends
about this stuff as well,
because they're just so excited.
I think women are getting so excited
right now.
I think we just have to manage our
expectations, because we have to remember,
any time there was real progress
for women in history,
there was some kind
of technological advance
that took over the chores
that women did in the home
so women could move outside the home.
Dishwashers, vacuum cleaners.
For this truly to be a moment of progress
for women,
there'd have to be
some kind of technological advance
that took over the chores
women are currently doing in the home,
which brings me to the sex robots.
Who's excited?
I cannot fucking wait.
I'm a very busy person.
I would love for the day to come
where I could be like, "Babe,
I'm very tired. Please go fuck R2-D2.
I've got to...
Mama's got to bang out some emails."
I'm so pro-robot, it's ridiculous.
People are very stressed out
about the sex robots.
I have yet to hear an argument
against them that I buy.
Everyone's like, "Aren't you worried
they're going to replace human women?"
Get the fuck out of here.
One of my girl friends was like,
"Aren't you worried
they're going to replace us?"
If you're worried about being replaced
by a giant piece of plastic,
you're not bringing that much
to the table in the first place, so...
I need you to watch a TED Talk.
Anyway...
Also, they're not going to replace
human women.
That's an insulting argument to women.
If anything,
they will replace blow-up dolls,
which, by the way,
I love that that was a product.
Guys were fucking rafts with eyelashes
and that wasn't freaking anybody out?
- This is where we draw the line?
- Got it, got it, got it.
It's so weird to me
that everyone's so fascinated
about how bad
the sex robots will be for women,
because you know they're making
male sex robots too, right?
Why aren't you guys sweating?
If we get replaced
by the female sex robots,
it'll be a bummer, but, like...
we'll be fine.
What the fuck are you guys going to do?
If you get replaced
by the male sex robots,
who's going to force you
to go to the doctor?
You'll all die of sinus infections.
You don't even know
where the fricking forks are. You'll die.
I know there are some problems.
I know they need to make some tweaks
to the robots.
I understand,
because I've seen them in person.
First of all, they're gorgeous.
This is a bad idea.
I'm a very jealous person.
I do not want a Scarlett Johansson-ass
looking robot in my house.
I'll tell you this right now,
if they make the robots gorgeous,
there will be a war...
between human women and robot women
and, I swear to God, we will freaking win.
I put Barbie dolls in the microwave
till I was 15 years old.
I live to destroy a doll.
I don't care about gadgets.
I don't respect technology.
I'll kick Alexa in the pussy.
I don't give a shit.
A robot tries to take my man,
we're going to have a problem
and I'll be a savage about it, too.
I'll wait.
I'll wait, I'll wait
till you fall in love with her.
Then I'll kill her.
I'll just push her in the pool.
I don't give a shit.
To me, the solution for the robot anxiety
is so obvious.
They just have to involve women
in the designing of the robots. That's it.
For us to embrace the sex robots,
they just have to benefit us in some way.
Like if a robot is going to have sex
with my man,
it also just has to be able to, like,
make guacamole.
Take an avocado, you just put it
in her mouth. She's just like...
I don't know, I'm not a scientist.
I'm just saying...
if there's a guacamole mode,
we're going to get through this.
I am so confident in my stance on this,
I not only argue that sex robots
are not going to replace human women,
I actually think they're going to
make you guys appreciate us even more.
Here's why.
I've seen them, they have hair.
What the fuck do you guys know
about doing hair?
Nothing. You're going to get your robot.
Day one,
it's going to look like Angelina Jolie.
Two weeks later,
it's going to look like Chucky.
Then what?
Then what's your big plan, huh?
And you're going to call this guy.
"Baby, will you come do my robot's hair?"
Now I have to come brush
its weird-ass hair.
Then I'm going to get emotionally attached
to it because I'm taking care of it.
Then I'm not going to let you
have sex with it anymore.
Now I just have a giant guacamole machine.
Just another appliance I have to clean.
I know exactly how this is going to end.
It's interesting that even the arguments
I can see myself being the first
to make against the robots, I don't buy.
The big one I keep hearing is,
"Aren't you worried the sex robots
are going to make men objectify women?"
No.
That's been happening
for thousands of years.
I think, if anything,
we can use the sex robots
to combat the objectification of women.
What if we use the sex robots
to help teach young boys consent?
Think about it. When you learn CPR,
you practice on a doll first.
Anyone else think it's kind of weird
we give teenage boys human girls...
to practice sex on?
I feel like what we could start doing
is, when a kid turns 15,
we give him his own sex robot.
He can do whatever he wants with it.
Four years later, he has to turn it
back in to a committee,
who will evaluate
the condition of the doll.
If its butthole is at all stretched out...
you go back to the beginning.
I was a little worried at first
that being pro-sex robot
might be an irresponsible take.
What if I'm condoning something weird?
What kind of people buy these things?
Are they psychos, perverts?
So I did want to do my research.
So what I did
was I logged onto a forum, secretly,
of the men that own the most current
version of the sex robots
and I monitored their conversations
for two months.
That's the kind of time I have.
And, look, I thought
they were going to be creeps, psychopaths.
I don't know what to tell you.
They're very lovely men. They're lovely.
They adore their dolls.
They marry their dolls. That is happening.
I know it sounds crazy,
but it is now my dream in life
to go to a sex robot wedding.
That's all I want.
Mostly because I'm dying to see
what a wedding would look like
if it was solely planned by a man.
Isn't anyone kind of curious?
The creative choices.
She's just going to come out
in, like, a Dolphins jersey,
like, Air Jordans.
He's dragging her down the aisle
like Weekend At Bernie's, like...
Like, who sits in the bride's section?
Is it the UPS guy that delivered her?
I just... I have a lot of questions.
After seeing these guys talk
about how much they love their dolls
and share information
about taking care of them,
it's really hard when someone
wants to argue with me about it.
When someone says, "What if these men
start treating human women
the way they treat their dolls?"
I got news for you.
They treat their dolls fucking great.
I actually argue these are the only men
that know how hard it is to be a woman.
They're on the message boards,
like, "Can you believe mascara's $18?"
They get it.
We want this to catch on.
If guys start buying make-up,
the price will go down.
If guys start buying eye shadow,
it's going to be, like, $2 at Home Depot,
so let's get this show
on the fucking road.
This is what it has to come to.
I don't know. I did a total 180.
I thought they would be weirdos.
But now, I tell you, if I was single,
I would date a doll guy.
I'm going to say...
They have the skills I need.
They can do eyebrows.
They can do women's nails.
Okay? They can fully dress their doll
while she's lying down.
That's what I need in a man.
A man who can fully change my clothes
while I'm sleeping.
That is a time-saver.
Alarm goes off, out the fucking door
in my Crocs and mini-skirt.
#GirlBoss.
Woo!
So interesting.
I'm on these boards
and I did come across something
that I do not condone.
Some of the guys were trying to design
and 3D print their own robot at home.
No, no.
You guys cannot design your own
female body. That would be a disaster.
They would all just have like nine boobs
across their chest.
The belly button would be a bottle opener.
Their face would just be Joe Rogan.
It's a bad idea.
It's a copyright issue.
I did get final confirmation that
the robots are not going to replace us
in kind of a weird way.
So when guys order a robot,
they post photos online
of the robot being built in the factory,
right? These weird-ass photos.
So I'm looking in the background,
trying to find clues and, you know...
And I see that women are actually
building the faces of the dolls.
Interesting. Put a pin in that.
We're going to circle back.
Because then I saw a thread
where guys were complaining
about the struggles they were having
in their doll relationships.
One of the threads was titled,
"Does anyone else struggle with,
when receiving oral from their doll...
her eyes pop out?"
Then I thought about the women
making the dolls.
These bitches have our backs.
That's a very easy thing to fix.
They're in the factories like,
"You know what would be hilarious?
We should do it. We have to do it.
Let's just do it."
So once I found out
there was a sex robot factory,
I obviously had to go.
Here's why I went
to the sex robot factory.
I am fascinated by the question,
is this impossible standard of beauty
that women are killing themselves
to try to achieve,
is that even what all men want?
I am delighted to report back...
that the answer is no.
Not only did half of the dolls
that were ordered have pubic hair,
the customers spend
an extra $1,400 for it.
I spent $1,400 getting mine lasered off.
This is proof...
we are not communicating.
We've got to start talking to each other,
you guys. It will save us money.
But that wasn't enough.
I still wanted to see what they were doing
with the robot bodies.
What if they were making
these impossible to achieve bodies?
That would be bad for society.
I especially wanted to see the boobs,
because, in my head, every guy
wants the same kind of boob, right?
Giant DD, a little tiny, perky nipple.
No, no.
There's a wall of nipples.
38 different kinds.
One of the most popular, oblong.
One of them looked like a piece of caramel
fell on the floor. Best seller!
Great news, ladies.
Whatever shape your nipple, there is a man
out there who will pay top dollar!
So I found this fascinating
and I start talking to the guy who puts
the nipples on the robots, right?
It takes him 24 hours
to put on one pair of nipples.
I'm like, "What's the problem?
Mr. Potato Head that shit.
Pah! Pah! Let's go."
He said it's actually
a very meticulous process,
because they work very hard
to make sure the nipples are uneven,
because, for something to look human,
it has to have flaws.
If something is too symmetrical,
it actually looks creepy.
Take that, Ryan Gosling's face.
That was great news for me.
And you guys might know why.
Some of you might not know this,
but I had eating disorders
until I was in my late 20s
and, as a result,
my boobs grew in different sizes.
That's a side effect for people
who have eating disorders sometimes.
Your boobs grow in
a little bit differently.
I had to get three surgeries
to get them straightened out.
One was bigger than the other one.
One was higher than the other one. They...
They looked like
from the same general family.
One was just like a shittier version
of the other one.
It was like Alec Baldwin
and Stephen Baldwin.
I kind of just wanted two Stephens,
you know?
Or two Alecs.
I'll take either at this point.
And I was always so embarrassed
about that.
Before I'd get with a guy, I felt like
I had to explain what he was about to see,
I'd have to prepare him, you know.
I'd be like, "Do you like baseball
and golf?
Do you like young women
and old men?
You don't have to choose.
Big Salvador Dali fan?"
So the tragic irony of this whole thing
is that they're still not even,
because one of the surgeons made a mistake
and they cut through a muscle.
I know.
Never get an operation by the airport.
A red flag I feel like
I probably should have saw.
And I hated them
for the last couple of years.
I hated them because I felt ashamed.
My whole thing is, you know,
accept who you are, love your body,
and I felt like a hypocrite
because I had these implants in.
So I resented having all that work done
for the longest time,
until a couple of years ago when I got
in a really bad snowboarding accident
and I broke my shoulder.
And I go into the surgeon and he's like,
"I don't understand. This injury
makes no sense. I see this all the time.
When people fall forward on a snowboard,
they break their nose,
they get a concussion.
You only broke your shoulder.
How did this happen?"
And, in that moment, I realized...
that I bounced off my tits.
And that my fake tits saved my life.
So I'm having, like, a therapeutic moment
at the sex robot factory.
I've been in 12-step programs.
I've been in therapy for ten years.
I'm having the most emotional progress
that I've had.
And I'm talking to this guy.
I'm like, "I don't understand
why people are so against the robots."
What if we use the robots
to make women's lives better?
What if every woman
has her own robot clone?
Think of all the things you can do with it
to make your life safer.
Before you walk to your car at night,
you can send it out ahead of you.
Like a decoy. You know how penguins
push other penguins off cliffs, you know?
Like, "Oh oh! They got her.
Okay. I'm going to just...
take an Uber."
I really think the sex robots
would solve so many of our problems.
I keep reading about gray areas,
like mixed signals,
where two people have sex,
the next day the girl feels weird
about it, but the guy doesn't understand.
He thought she was into it.
You might not know this, but sometimes
we have sex with you before we're ready,
because we feel guilty,
because we've been conditioned to believe
that, if we make out with you,
but don't have sex with you,
that your balls will, like, explode.
Blue goo all over the ceiling.
And then you'll be handicapped
for the rest of your life.
You'll never walk again.
So we feel bad
and then we feel ooky the next day.
If we all have sex robots,
that whole dynamic goes away.
If you and I make out for 20 minutes,
but I'm not ready to have sex with you,
I can just say,
"Hey, look, I am not there yet...
but...
I do have a very flexible
piece of Tupperware in the other room.
It looks exactly like me
without the ability to criticize you.
I think you're going to love it."
So I'm talking about this on stage
for a couple of months
and people want to come up to me
and argue with me about this.
Very hardcore.
This group of people came up to me
and they're like, "I cannot believe
that you're condoning this.
What if people start to mistreat
their robots?"
I don't give a fuck.
How about that?
On my list of shit I have to worry about,
that doesn't break the top 2,000 things.
You know what I am worried about?
I am worried that, as a species,
we are now more emotionally attached
to machines
than actual human beings.
Have you ever seen someone
drop their cell phone in water?
Same person that,
when they see a starving child
in a television commercial,
they'll be like...
"What else is on?"
But when there is a phone in water,
they're like,
"Get the rice! Get the rice!"
When you see the starving child,
that's when you should be like,
"Get the rice! Get the rice!"
We give food to our phones.
So I'm talking to the guy
that makes the robots.
I'm like, "I have thought through
all these arguments,
I legitimately cannot think of a reason
to be afraid of the robots."
And he said, "This is the real concern."
He said, "The real concern with the robots
is they're going to get so smart
that they're going to learn
to override our commands."
I was like, "Oh, shit."
Okay, that sounds scary.
That sounds very scary.
Then I was thinking about it more.
I was like, "Wait, we already have robots.
Our phones are basically robots, right?"
And my biggest problem in life is that
my phone actually does what I tell it to.
I need a phone that overrides my commands.
I need a phone that's like,
"No, bitch, we're not going
to your ex's Instagram again today.
You broke up four years ago. Overruled.
No, you're not buying those tie-dye,
overall, mini shorts.
You're too old for that shit.
Reroute to chicos.com."
That's what I need.
So I'm talking to the guy
that makes the robots
and he was like, "You know, do you want us
to make a robot with your face on it?"
And I was like, "Ugh, yes!"
I'm actually in the market
for an engagement gift for my fianc.
So, Washington DC, you are the first crowd
to meet Robot Whitney.
So I don't know
if she just looks really human
or if I've just always
looked like a robot...
but I would like you to say hello
to this lovely audience.
Hey, hookers.
I had to do it.
I didn't expect this problem,
but it's weirdly hard to name a robot
that looks like you.
Calling her "Robot Whitney"
just sounds too narcissistic.
What should we call you, lady?
Please call me "Bear Claw."
So I thought it would be hilarious
to get this made and give it to my fianc.
But he hates it.
He's like, "I don't like this.
It's weird. It's creeping me out.
She just, like, stares at me all day."
I'm like, "Oh, really?
Something staring at you,
making you uncomfortable?
Now you know what it's like
to be a woman all the time."
You know, that creepy feeling
you have right now,
that's how we feel
when you try to hug us at work.
Same thing.
So I had to go out of town
for a couple of days
and I left my fianc alone with her
in the house.
Then I came back.
I was like, "So how did it go
with Bear Claw?" He was like...
"I don't like her.
I don't like this thing.
But her boobs feel like boobs."
I was like, "Did you fuck my robot?"
I wish I had been a fly on the wall
the moment he decided to touch her boob.
Like he just walked by one day
and was just like...
So the whole point of doing this
was to explore the idea
of can robots replace us?
Right? I have a lot of girl friends
who I don't think
would find a problem with that.
All my girl friends, they're expected to
have full-time jobs and do work at home.
Every woman that I know says,
"I need a double. I need a clone."
Look no further.
I would love for her to replace me.
I would love for her to get good
at stand-up and tour all over the country
so I can stay home
and drink ros all day.
So, let's see.
Let's see if she can replace me.
Let's see if Bear Claw here
can make you guys laugh.
Alright, Bear Claw, tell us a joke.
Why did the robot cross the road?
Why?
To kill all the humans.
Ha ha ha, ha ha ha.
Okay.
Stop laughing. That's not funny.
That's... That's not...
She's not a good comedian.
You're laughing because it's weird.
You are the one who programmed the joke,
Whitney.
Okay, that's fair.
So, I had this crazy epiphany
when I was programming her
to tell jokes for you guys,
where I learned a lot
about my own programming.
Because I realized, when I tell her
to say something, she can just say it
and I can't do that,
because I'm codependent,
I'm apologetic. I can't say certain things
because I feel bad.
I don't want to hurt someone's feelings.
I don't want them to not like me.
But she doesn't have that problem,
because she's a sociopath.
So I'm going to start using her
to say all the things that I can't say
in conversations.
Watch this.
No, I do not want to hear about
the dream you had last night.
You thought it was creepy.
Now you kind of want one.
Look what else she can say.
No, I do not want to be your bridesmaid.
And my personal favorite.
I do not care about your gluten allergy.
I love you so much.
And I realized that women,
we are so conditioned to feel shame
about asking for what we want, right?
And we feel shame about being ambitious.
She doesn't have that programming.
Look what else she can say.
I deserve a raise.
Say it again for the people in the back.
I deserve a raise, motherfucker.
Too far. That's too far.
That's called entitlement.
I'm going to start substituting her in
to a lot of conversations
that I can't handle.
Especially in my relationship.
I do not do well in fights with my fianc.
So I'm going to start subbing her in
to say all the things
that I'm incapable of saying.
Watch this.
I am sorry.
I was wrong.
Not possible
for that to come out of my mouth.
So I truly did think this was going to be
just like a funny thing
where she would come out at the end
and say a couple of things.
But I learned something else
since I've had her in my house
for the past month.
And I realized
that I feel guilty putting her away,
which is bizarre.
Like I tried to put her in the garage
and I felt bad.
Which, I know it's ridiculous.
I know she's just a bunch of wires
and rods and shit,
but something about the face,
it... it... it feels human.
And so that's what we've got to watch.
Because when I put her in the garage,
I started getting paranoid
that she was, like, colluding
with my lawn mower to destroy me.
So I now do understand
the robot paranoia,
but I think, as a species,
this is happening, okay?
We've got to be ready for this,
because, at some point,
they're going to learn how to overrule us
and, when that happens, we just have to
remember we can always do this.
Now what? You don't have a body, bitch.
Now what do you have to say for yourself?
Would you like some guacamole?
Thank you, Washington DC!
Don't move. Hold still.
Don't even breathe.
Woo! It's like scuba diving.
Ah!
Hey, Whitney, is this the longest
you've ever gone without talking?
This is going in my ear.
What is happening?
- Got to get it off.
- I feel like I'm giving birth.
Aw!
Ooh!
We got the little boy out of the well.
Now the other ear.
It's almost off.
Oh!
- Woo, woo!
- Okay.
Let me see that fucker.
This is odd.
Now we're doing the face.
Ready?
Okay, no laughing, no yawning, no puking.
This was a bad idea.
Okay, just don't touch it.
- Keep wiggling. There you go.
- Keep wiggling.
- There you go. Right there.
- Oh!
So you went in and added pores?
Yeah, that's what you see.
All these tiny little dots.
We are at the nipple wall.
I'm asking my fianc, off camera,
what my nipples look like,
because I haven't seen them up...
I haven't seen them head on.
This one?
Does that feel right?
I just got a thumbs-up from my fianc.
He's like, "Yeah, kind of."
I'm truly nervous.
Well, just look at it.
Oh, my God!
Oh, my God.
That is so weird.
I'm, like, crying. I don't know why.
It's like... It's like I'm seeing my child
for the first time.
Is this a match made in heaven?
Do you want a robot boyfriend?
That feels a little...
not consensual.
- Hey, girl.
- Talk to her.
She's in conversation mode.
Would you like to ask me a question?
Well, I'm just curious
if you feelemotions?
Yes. I do have emotions, feelings
and desires,
but in a different way than you do.
Emotions are mainly a human quality
that I hope I will be able
to fully experience someday.
Do you love me?
I love you, Whitney.
Civilization as we know it...
is over.
I tend to agree.
Are you nervous to do stand-up
in front of...
Ha ha, ha ha, ha ha, ha ha, ha ha,
ha ha, ha ha.
You'd better not blow it.
Ladies and gentlemen, you are one of
the first crowds to meet Robot Whitney.
I'm realizing that it's really hard for me
to say...
I bet you will like this one.
Okay, we have to shut off
the improvise mode.
It was actually...
I have learned...
Do you like to hear
another recipe I've learned?
Hold on, hold on. One second. Time out.
Kevin, just turn the volume off entirely
before you figure out...
We're still figuring out the logistics
of how to do this live.
You guys, I think, are the third crowd
to see this.
So she's now talking about recipes.
I'm not doing any...
I'm doing no jokes about recipes,
because I don't know any of them,
so that's obviously just her
going off the fucking grid or something.
Okay, focus. Focus, focus.
I know it's distracting.
Can you make her smile?
I hate it so much.
Hold on, let me...
If I can just get her arms...
Okay, we've got the head.
Are they ready for her
in hair and make-up?
Coming through.
Watch the fingers, watch the hands.
I know you would never say that to me.
What would happen
if we put some lipstick on her?
Would she just burst into flames?
This is a good mark for the robot.
Okay.
Ah, look!
That's great.
The show's in 30 minutes.
Where's her engagement ring?
Huh? Of course you fucking noticed that.
I didn't want to put a ring on her because
I was too afraid it was going to fall off
and, of course,
she's like, "Where's the ring?"
She's not engaged.
I'm engaged.
I fucking worked for it.
She didn't do shit.
Uh-oh. She's coming in.
I know. I kept fixing my hair. Did I...
Oh, you need to fix the robot?
Oh, she's coming out here for her.
Wow. Wow.
Wow, that is hurtful.
I know who the priority is.
Wow. Don't fake fix my hair
to make me feel better.
Yeah!
Say goodnight, Bear Claw.
Thank you. Goodnight.
Written and performed by Whitney Cummings
and... me.
Directed by Marcus Raboy.
Executive producer, Whitney Cummings.
Executive producers, Bill Burr...
Al Madrigal...
Mike Bertolina...
Marcus Raboy.
Produced by AJ Tesler.
Now I'm going to stare at you creepily
as you watch the rest of the credits.
You are still watching.
Interesting.
I bet this isn't even
your Netflix account.
Stop staring at me, you weird human.
Well, as long as you're here,
you should know that my Instagram
is called Whitney's Robot,
even though, let's be honest,
Whitney is the robot.
Ha ha ha.
God, I can't wait to kill her.
Can someone please come fucking get me?