Oh, my God. I do think about death. I just want it to be justified, you know? Like, if I die violently, you know, maybe I have, like, Serena Williams sitting on my face, and… I don’t know, Venus is polishing me off, and they’re trying to fit a racket in my ass or something like that. Then my wife comes in, boom, and I’m, like, fucking done. It’s fun that way. I don’t want it to be a dumb death. I feel like there’s dumb deaths that they kind of subtly mock, like, on the news. They do. They’ll be like, in local news… they’ll be like, “and then, also coming up, “a guy was trying to get a soda out of a vending machine, and then it fell on him.” And they’re like… and you’re like… ’cause that could happen to you. It could be, like, you know, like, I would go to the fucking mall, and then I fall down the stairs, and then they send a news crew, and they’re like, “what happened?” And they interview the dumbest fucking guy, and he’s like, “I seen him fall. And then he don’t move no more.” And you’re like, “that’s my eulogy? Thanks a lot, man.”

I felt like I was gonna die a few months ago. I called a car service to take me to the airport. You know, when you’re like, “I got 60 bucks. Let’s fucking do this, right?” This nice town car comes to the house. The guy gets out. He’s got all white hair. Much older man. From the beginning, he makes me uncomfortable when he calls me sir. I don’t know if you’ve ever had a guy way older than you call you sir. You’re like, “hey, man. You’re, like, 1,000 years old.” “You have a couple weeks to live, maybe. How about we drop the formality, okay?” I get in the car, he goes, “the temperature all right, sir?” I go, “it’s fine.” He goes, “would you like a bottle of water, sir?” And I go, “you don’t have to call me sir.” You can just call me Tom.” And at that moment, all of his professionalism went out the window. ‘Cause the very next thing he said was, “you smoke weed?” And I was like, “I mean, yeah, sometimes.” And he goes, “do you want to smoke some now?” And I was like, “I mean, yeah.” But I don’t think my driver should be offering me, you know? He doesn’t miss a beat. He opens the console. He takes out a joint. He lights it. He passes it back. I hit it out of respect, right? ‘Cause he’s old. And then I give it back to him, and the next thing he says is, “yeah, I can’t drive unless I’m fucked up.” I’m like, “did you hear what you just said?” And he goes, “yeah, I’m ripped right now.” I’m like, “well, hands on 10:00 and 2:00, motherfucker.” Like, “keep it together.” I go, “so is that all you do? Smoke weed?” I can handle a guy that smokes weed. He goes, “well, I love it all.” And I’m like, “what’s all?” That’s a broad statement.” He goes, “I love coke. I love heroin.” “But there’s nothing like smoking rocks, you know what I’m saying?” And I was like, “no, I don’t know what you’re saying.” Mind you, this is while he’s driving, so it’s actually like, “I love smoking rocks, man. You know what I’m…” I’m like, “dude, turn around.” So I go, “can I ask you something?” He goes, “yeah. What’s up?” I go, “what’s it like to smoke rocks?” I’ve never done that before.” And he goes, “ooh-ooh!”  I was like, “is that the whole sentence? Is that it?” He goes, “that shit is the best! “What I like to do personally, “is I like to sit in my apartment and fire ’em up. “And then I look out the peephole. “And I watch people walk around. “And I just freak the fuck out about what’s gonna happen next.” And then, he gave me a head nod like, “doesn’t that sound awesome?” I was like, “dude, that sounds terrible. “That’s called a panic attack, “and that’s a horrible sales pitch for crack. Now, I’m definitely not gonna try it.” We pull up to the airport, and I go, “it’s none of my business, but I think you’re too old to be messing with all these drugs.” And he goes, “I don’t do it anymore, Tom.” Yeah, it was “sir” at the top of the ride. Now, it’s “Tom, you piece of shit.” “I don’t do it anymore. I did it when I was younger.” And I go, “all right.” And he goes, “I mean, I still do it every once in a while.” “But you know what they say, if you do something every once in a while, it’s not that bad for you.” And I was like, “dude, I think they mean that about”, “like, pizza and chocolate.” “Nobody ever means that for crack, just so you know.” I’ve never heard, “what are you doing?” “I’m smoking rocks.” “Well, not every day, okay? You crazy kid.”

Weed‘s not a big deal, though. I don’t know why the fuck people make a big deal out of weed. You know? You…  You see it change. I mean, states have it legalized. I don’t know why… the perception, I find, from other people about California, they think that we’re like the wild fucking west. Like, people, they’re like, “aw, you live in I.A. “You guys just smoke joints and tell the cops to suck your dick, right?” And I’m like, “yeah, that’s exactly right, yeah.” “You should do that too when you come out. “L.A.P.D. Is super into that. “But take your joint, flick it at ’em, “be like, ‘suck my dick, man.’ they’ll laugh and high-five you… it’s fine.”

It’s so dif… I mean, first of all… all right, let’s be clear. If you get a medical card, one of the things that people don’t know, they have expiration dates on them, and you have to renew your card all the time. And it’s not what you think. It’s not exactly the easiest thing. You literal… you have to get in your car. You have to drive down to a place. That’s it… that’s all you gotta do, is go drive there. Takes, like, five minutes. But my card expired three years ago. I still haven’t renewed it. I tried to go to a dispensary a few weeks ago, and there’s two rooms. There’s the room they check you out in, they check your stuff, and then, there’s the main room with all the goodies, right? And the guy took my card, and he goes, “dude, I can’t let you in. Your card expired three years ago.” I was like, “come on, man.” And he was like, “all right.” I was like, “wow, I’m a really good negotiator, huh?” I didn’t real… well, once you put it like that, yeah.

Getting that medical card is surreal. My experience was surreal. I went to a doctor’s office, and it’s not dr. Dickhead that I was telling you about. This is a different doctor. He’s a doctor because he got a business card, and he put “dr.” on it. His office was such a piece of shit, that you could hear the conversation going on between the doctor and the patient ahead of you, which is never supposed to happen. So as I’m waiting for my turn to go in, I’m waiting, and I hear the doctor go, “oh, what is your medical need for marijuana?” And the guy in there goes, “oh, I have a bone disease.” And I was like, “oh, shit. I don’t have a bone disease.” Like, I thought you could just be like, “weed’s awesome.” And he’d be like, “yeah, I fucking know,” like… So I start to panic internally… like, what am I gonna say? And in my mind, I just go to the worst shit. Like, in my mind, I’ll be like, “just say you have AIDS. Like, just tell him you have AIDS.” Then he’ll be like, “when did you find out?” I’ll be like, “I just found out, like, five minutes ago.” “You don’t seem that bummed out.” “Well, I’m just happy to be here, so let’s wrap this shit up, man.” For some reason, I pictured him asking me to prove it, which they would never be like, “prove it,” and you’re like, “oh, I left my aids card at home.” I don’t have it on me.” Then I go, “that’s way too dramatic. Just dial it back.” I’m like, “ah, I’ll just say I have cancer.” That’s much more believable.” Then I start thinking of all my family members that have died of cancer, and I’m like, “man, if I say I have cancer just to get weed, I am getting cancer next fucking week.” By the time I have that thought, I’m sitting in front of the doctor. He’s like… I go, “what?” He goes, “what is your medical need for marijuana?” And the best I can come up with on the spot is, “my eyes hurt.” And he goes, “do you have vision problems?” And I go, “oh, yeah.” And he goes, “you don’t wear glasses?” And I go, “can’t. Hurts.” “Everything hurts. Ow, ow. Ow, ow.” He writes me a prescription. I go to leave. As I leave, I see the guy who’s going in next, and I don’t know why I think it’s gonna be funny to listen. ‘Cause I think he’s not gonna get it, and I’ll tell you why. I completely judged the guy, ’cause the guy’s your typical L.A. Cholo Mexican gangbanger, okay? It’s a very specific look. You’ve seen movies. You know what the fuck I’m talking about. It’s khaki dickies with an oversized white t-shirt, Chuck Taylors, an L.A. Hat, and also an L.A. Tat in, like, this general area here. So it’s like, “aw, if I lose my hat, I still have my favorite team right fucking here.” So I listen at the door. I’m like… *Laughs* And I hear the doctor go, “what is your medical need for marijuana?” And the guy goes, “I just really like the way that weed makes me feel.” And then the doctor wrote him a prescription for that. Yeah, you don’t have to lie. You can just be like, “weed’s awesome.” And he’s like, “yeah, I fucking know. “I feel sorry for all the people with diseases “that keep coming in here, man. “The last dude’s eyes didn’t even work. “It was sad. You’re lucky you have your health, ese.” “Orale.”

I’m always trying to set goals. My latest goal… I’m trying to be less polite, you know? ‘Cause the world is not as polite as you’re raised to believe it’s gonna be, you know? I don’t understand why we accept that when you say “thank you,” people don’t have to say “you’re welcome” anymore. People have stopped. Now, you say “thank you,” and people give you a nod, like… I want to stab you in the fucking ears if you do that shit to me. I do. I’ll go, “thank you,” and they go… I go, “did you not… did you not just hear” what I just said to you, man?” And you get, like, a follow-up nod. So now, I skip it all. I just take shit, and I go…

I find rudeness everywhere. I think the rudest person in the world is a person that waits outside of a grocery store with a petition for you to sign. What a fucking asshole you are. They do that, and do you know why that’s a shitty thing to do? They’re systematically trying to ruin your happiness. ‘Cause you’re leaving the grocery store, and you’re feeling what? You’re feeling happy. You’re like, “oh, I got soy milk. It’s gonna be a good week. All right.” And then they stop me ab… “sir, could you look at this?” I’m like, “look at what?” And they’re like, “do you want children to starve and die on the streets?” And I’m like… “Now I do… now that you just ruined my day, I do, yeah. I want you to die first, but then I want all of them to die.” I say the opposite of whatever they’re trying to fucking get me to sign. Like, “this is to teach blind people how to do Shakespeare.” I’m like, “I hope they all go deaf first.” And they’re like, “Jesus.” I’m like, “yeah, that’s fucking right. You’re the asshole, not me.” “This is to end the war in Afghanistan.” I go, “I fucking love the war in Afghanistan.” “It’s my favorite war. I hope it goes on for 1,000 years.” And they’re like, “you’re crazy.” I’m like, “that’s right. I’m crazy.” Remember my face and never ask me to sign shit again.”

I can’t get over rude people. I was in a hotel a few weeks ago. I go down to the hotel gym. I get on the treadmill. I run, I don’t know, 70 miles, right?  170 miles, thank you. 170 miles. But I’m alone. There’s nobody in there. I’m sweating. I’m hyperventilating. *Groans* Then, out of nowhere, I just hear, “getting it in?” And I go, “Jesus Christ! What?” This guy goes, “you getting it in?” I go, “getting what in?” He says, “you getting a workout in?” I go, “doesn’t it fucking look like it?” He goes, “yeah, you just gotta keep doing it.” And I go, “okay.” He goes, “nah, I used to be like you.” And I go, “what?” He goes, “I used to be like you. “You just gotta keep eating right and keep doing it, and you’ll get there.” And I was like, “dude, I’m disabled.”  And he was like, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know that.” Let me… let me point something out. It’s okay for me to make jokes about disabled people and people with horrible diseases because they make me uncomfortable, and I don’t want to be like them.  Maybe that makes me a bad person, but I’m an honest person, and I’m telling you, that shit is terrifying. I don’t want to be like them.