Please welcome to the stage Hannibal Buress!
What's up, Minneapolis?
Thank you.
Thank you, Minneapolis!
Yeah!
Yeah.
A lot of people were asking me, why am I filming my special in Minneapolis?
Why?
Even people in Minneapolis were like, "Why are you doing this?"
And it's because...
The rest of the country doesn't know this, but touring comedians...
know and recognize Minneapolis
as one of the best cities to perform comedy in.
You know? I'm just sayin'.
And also,
four years ago, I had a threesome here, and...
I chase that moment with every visit I...
Every time I return, I chase that moment.
I gotta tell y'all something. There's something I have to tell you guys.
These are fake glasses.
I don't wear... I got... These are fake glasses.
I just wear these glasses to make you comfortable,
'cause that's how I am on television. With glasses on.
But I don't wear glasses anymore. I got LASIK.
Look, these are fake. Watch this.
It's fake glasses.
I'll do this, too. I don't need this.
I got LASIK eyeball surgery.
LASIK surgery, perfect vision.
Perfect goddamn...
Hey, don't cheer for me like I won a raffle or some shit.
I paid for it, full price.
These ain't no Kickstarter eyes right here.
One swipe, the transaction was done.
No downside to LASIK.
Except for the fact that without my glasses,
I sort of look like how Milhouse from The Simpsons
looked like without his glasses.
I have very beady, shady little eyes.
But besides that, it's been smooth sailing.
I see all types of stuff I wasn't able to see.
Even with my glasses, I was missing details.
Like, sir, you in the balcony, all the way in the back,
in the center, with my LASIK...
I can see...
that you're a real piece of shit.
And I wasn't able to see stuff like that.
I wasn't able to make easy dumb-ass jokes like that either.
But lately, I've been firing 'em off all the time, and the people love it.
You have to sign a waiver when you get LASIK.
You can't just get it.
I signed a waiver that said that if I went blind because of the surgery,
they could just say, "Sorry about that," and that would be the end of it.
I signed a piece of paper that stated if I went blind because of the surgery,
they could just say, "Our bad,"
and they would hand me a cane, some sunglasses and some jazz CDs.
And then send me on my lonely blind-ass way.
And I'm glad I didn't go blind. I'm really glad... I didn't go blind.
That would have been incredibly ironic to go blind
in the quest for perfect eyesight.
I don't want to go blind. I'm 32, I'm a young guy.
There's still lots of shit I want to see out there.
Like, they set up the movie Guardians of the Galaxy to be a sequel.
I definitely wanna see that shit.
I don't wanna go to that movie as a blind man.
Even though the dialog will probably be dope,
they'll still charge me for 3D and shit, 'cause they're petty.
Corporate, they suck. They don't care about blind people.
I don't want to go back to jacking off to my imagination.
Not ready for that.
Also, I don't wanna make the tough transition
of being a newly blind comedian.
Even though my ticket sales would probably skyrocket
'cause of the curiosity factor.
"Wait, so you're telling me he wasn't blind, now he is blind,
and he's doing stand-up?
All right, I'll check that shit out! All right, I'm interested!
Where's he playing?
Eleven shows at Target Field? Holy shit!"
"Yeah, it's crazy. They're moving some Twins games to accommodate him."
People will get to the gig and be pissed...
'cause all my blind material will suck. It wouldn't be good jokes.
It would be awful material I churned out
to feed the beast that's my growing fan base.
Just awful jokes, like, "Uh...
you ever smell, uh...
So, anyways, I was at the bakery.
Talk about sensory overload.
So, yeah, the other day, I was touching some stucco.
At least I think it was stucco.
Shit, man. I don't know, I'm blind.
Turn up. What else?
Where are you guys from? No, you guys.
I don't know who I'm talking to right now. I'm just having fun.
Minneapolis! Target Field, holy shit!"
Did you know...
that there's an Internet conspiracy going on
suggesting that Stevie Wonder isn't really blind.
Now...
I think Stevie Wonder is blind, I just think it'd be funny if he wasn't.
I think that'd be funny if Stevie Wonder, out of nowhere,
did an interview with Oprah, said, "Oprah...
I never said I was blind.
I just like doing this shit all the time. That's it.
I like doing this. I like wearing sunglasses.
And I love singing songs with my friends. That's all."
I think Stevie Wonder's blind. I just think it'd be funny if he wasn't.
And if Stevie Wonder came out as being able to see...
it would give all the other children that have been faking like they're blind
the courage to do the same thing.
I think Stevie Wonder's blind,
but he does some weird stuff for a blind dude.
He goes to NBA games and sits courtside.
What are you doing courtside?
You just really like the smell of competition?
Why are you there, Stevie?
How do you even explain basketball to a blind man?
"Hey, Stevie, Ricky Rubio just laid the ball up."
"Okay, cool.
What's a layup?"
"Oh, it's when you lay the ball up off of the backboard,
it goes through the rim of the net."
"Okay, cool. What's a backboard? What's a rim? What's a net?
Who is Ricky Rubio? Who are you? And what city am I in right now?
I've never smelt this city before. Siri, what city am I in right now?
Siri... location, please."
I know that joke seems harsh.
But it's okay.
I can do that bit, because one of my best friends...
is gay, so...
you could talk about whatever you want.
I'm 32... 32 years old. It's a meaningless age, 32.
It's a goofy, meaningless age.
Thirty means something.
Thirty is a milestone, it's worth celebrating.
I'm not gonna celebrate...
My friend's turning 30... "Come to my 32nd birthday party!"
No, you go to a dinner with one person and you go to bed.
I'm not coming...
I'm not coming to your 32nd birthday party.
Go to dinner. Go to bed, loser.
Thirty-one...
is meaningless.
At least when you're 31, you still have days on a calendar
that match up with your age.
So, if you're 31, you can say goofy shit.
"I'm 31! It's the 31st!" You can say goofy shit like that.
You probably shouldn't, but you could if you wanted to.
But 32 symbolizes the end of that era.
And one thing I don't like doing at 32...
I don't like showing my ID to get into bars.
'Cause I feel like...
you could tell that I'm not 20.
There's easier ways than showing ID.
I feel like, if you speak to me and I speak back, I think you get it.
"Hey, what's up? How's it going?" "I'm good, how are you?"
"All right, come in."
"Wait a second, did you check his ID?" "No, I just spoke to him for two seconds.
Saved everybody some time."
I don't like showing my ID.
"ID, please?" "You want ID?
How about you look into my eyes?
Do I look like I have the soul of a 20-year-old at all?
You see all this bitterness and shit in my eyes?"
"ID, please?" "You want ID?
How about you look at my body?
Do I look like I have the metabolism of a 20-year-old at all?
I don't have a metabolism anymore. Everything just stays."
Also...
there's certain situations where I don't wanna show ID.
Certain situations.
One time, me and some friends had a layover at Minneapolis Airport.
It's about 11:00 in the morning on a Sunday.
And we ordered some breakfast.
And I say, "Hey, let's get some Bloody Marys for the table."
And the waitress says, "Oh, Bloody Marys? ID, please?"
"Oh, you need ID?
You want ID 'cause that's what the kids are getting into these days?
Who knew these kids were coming to the airport
and getting fucked up on Bloody Marys and mimosas?
These teenagers are out of control with their raging airport brunches.
'Cause that's definitely...
That's what I was doing when I was growing up in Chicago.
Me and my buddies, every Sunday, we would go to O'Hare Airport.
We would buy the cheapest one-way plane ticket we could find,
and we would drink mimosas and Bloody Marys,
stuffing our faces with frittatas.
Oh, those crazy brunches! Oh, man!
We would just talk about whatever. Girls and sports and our teachers!
Oh, do I miss those days!
Oh, my high school brunch crew! Oh, do I miss them!
Oh, to be a boy again!
Here's my ID, lady. Let's keep it moving."
Last summer, in the middle of a tour, I lost my ID.
Which sucked.
But what I found is that you can fly domestically without ID.
Which makes sense.
It'd be weird if you showed up to the airport and they said,
"Oh, sorry, you don't have ID? Oh...
I hate to tell you, but...
I guess you live in Dallas now.
I think you need to start a new life here in Dallas,
and work hard until you get a new ID.
And then you could use that ID to fly back to your old life and get your old ID."
No, you can fly without ID.
TSA treats you like you lost your ID just to disturb their day, though.
They treat you horribly if you forgot your ID.
They give you a thorough, full-body pat down if you don't have your ID,
as if you might've just lost it in your own asshole on accident.
They search your bag,
they give your bag a thorough search if you don't have your ID,
as if that'll be the time to commit a terrorist act.
"Yeah, I don't have my ID,
but this plane needs to go down no matter what.
I had a goal, I need to follow through, that's what Tony Robbins told me.
I gotta follow through with my goals.
If I don't follow through with this goal,
then that pattern of behavior is gonna spill over to other aspects of my life.
I can't have that happening."
So I found that I was able to travel with relative ease...
with no ID. I was able to check into most hotels.
Most hotels. Not the Embassy Suites in Downey, California.
They are very much sticklers for the rules.
I show up at the Embassy Suites,
I had my script ready 'cause I had been doing this a few trips.
So I said, "I'm sorry, I don't have my ID.
What I do have is a copy of that ID, I have a copy of my passport,
I have the credit card I booked the reservation with,
I have my birth certificate, a prescription medicine label,
and one piece of mail.
I know that this is not physical ID,
but I feel like these six items are more than enough
for me to check into your two-and-a-half-star hotel."
And the lady says, "No!
No, no, you need a physical government ID!"
I was a bit thrown off, 'cause I was trying to give her so much,
she wasn't trying to help me at all.
I was like, how do I prove that I'm me? I gotta think outside of the box.
"All right, lady, can I order Chinese food on my phone?
And the guy shows up, 'Chinese food for Hannibal.'
Is that ID? No? Okay.
Yeah, can I call my mom on speaker phone?
And she's like, 'Hey, Hannibal.'
'Hey, Ma.'
'Sounds like you, Hannibal.'
"Cause it is me, Ma.' Is that...
Is that ID? A mother's acknowledgment of my voice is not ID?
What ID is better that that? Oh, you a tough one. Shit.
Okay. Oh, perfect. This is all right. You got a computer right there.
Ah, now, we're good.
'Cause I got a website. It's hannibalburess.com.
You can go on that website,
there's pictures of me, there's videos of me,
speaking in a similar manner that I'm speaking to you right now."
And she says, "No, I'm not looking at that.
You might've just made that website up."
"What? What, you maniac?
Are you suggesting that I learned how to design websites,
so one day, I can sneak into the Embassy Suites?
In Downey, California, 35 miles south of Los Angeles, you maniac?
Is that what you're saying right now?
Are you saying that I started Twitter and Instagram accounts with the same name,
worked and built a following over the years, so one day,
I can sneak into the $110-a-night Embassy Suites in Downey, California?
$64 on Priceline.
Is that what you're saying to me right now, you maniac?"
"Are you suggesting
that five years ago I hired David Letterman
to introduce me on his show as Hannibal Buress...
with a studio audience there,
and he let me do five minutes of stand-up as Hannibal Buress,
just so one day,
one glorious day,
everything would come together
and I would be able to sneak into the Embassy Suites,
the likely bed-bug-riddled Embassy Suites in Downey, California?
Is that what you're saying, you maniac, you?"
By now, I'm shaking with anger. I was so angry.
If my name was Bruce Banner, I would've been green at this point.
I was pissed off.
I wanted to mess that lobby up, I wanted to kick the door in,
flip the couch, knock her computer over, throw all the magazines,
'cause then she would've got on her phone, dialed 911,
"911...
Hannibal Buress is in the lobby right now, and he's fuckin' shit up--"
"Oh, now you know my name, you wench, you?"
Yeah.
I'm trying to bring back "wench."
I'm trying to bring back old terms, like "wench."
"Toots."
And I invite women back to my hotel room for...
heavy pettin'.
All right, sit down. You're ruining the shot, all right?
Oh... comedy.
I try to find inspiration where I can, you know?
You never know where you're gonna get inspired.
I was on a plane...
and the guy sitting next to me pulled out his laptop
and just started watching episodes of that show Wipeout.
You know, Wipeout is based on a Japanese game show.
People just trying not to get knocked into water.
It's a goofy-ass show.
It's something that, if you're flipping through TV,
you'll watch it for a little bit,
but it's not something I would think you would wanna take with you.
Usually, on a plane, I like to catch up on something with a narrative,
but he was just watching episodes of Wipeout.
And this plane didn't have Wi-Fi,
which means that he downloaded three episodes of Wipeout.
And he was happy, I could see in his eyes, he was happy watching Wipeout.
And I was happy, 'cause I was watching it, and I had my headphones on,
and my music started syncing up with all the shit that was happening in Wipeout.
People started falling into the water on beat, it was great.
So I started thinking, what...
what is my version of watching Wipeout on a plane in life, you know?
How can I be different like him? How can I go against the grain?
How can I not care what others think? How can I do what makes me happy?
How can I inspire others in the same way that he inspired me?
And I figured it out, my new thing is that...
if somebody tells me my zipper's down, I tell him, "Let that shit go."
People love telling you your fly is down
without even knowing your position on zipper politics, so...
"Yeah, my fly is down, this is my new thing I'm doing.
Stop looking at my dick, first of all. How about that?
My fly is down?
Yeah, you're looking at my dick, though, which is worse?
This was an accident."
People tell you "Your fly is down"
with the same energy as if they just saved you from getting hit by a bus.
"Hey, your fly is down!
What are you gonna do with your new lease on life, huh?
Are you gonna talk about me in your memoirs?
Please!"
"Sir, your fly is--" "Yeah, my fly is... Is my dick out?
'Cause if my dick ain't out, I feel like you're over-exaggerating right now.
My fly is down, 'cause I'm not a conformist piece of shit like you!
It's anarchy down here and I'm livin' it! What's up?"
I was downtown Chicago,
a homeless dude walked up, "Hey, sir, your fly is down."
"Hey, man, your life is down. Couple things, hey.
I didn't ask you for shit. This is a quick fix for me right here.
You don't know what I'm up to. I'm living life a different way. Wipeout.
I'm living life in a different way."
I'm from Chicago, originally,
and I was back home hanging out with my dad.
I get there, he was excited, he said,
"Hannibal, you ever hear of this show, The Wire?
This show is great."
My dad just got into The Wire.
"Show was amazing, Hannibal.
The story lines, the writing, so many characters, it's great.
I'm on Season Two, I love it."
Didn't have the heart to tell him that Season Two was the worst season.
I'll let him... I'll let him finish that way he can talk about it on his own.
Then I started thinking,
"Why am I judging my dad for just now getting into The Wire?"
People find stuff when they find it, you know?
Everybody doesn't discover somethin' at the same time.
It doesn't make it any less good if you found it late.
I can't judge him for getting to The Wire now.
I found out about Jimi Hendrix
because Hulk Hogan used to walk out to his music.
In WCW, Hulk Hogan used to walk out to "Voodoo Child."
And I'm like, "This song is amazing! This is great!
Who is that? That shit is amazing!"
Somebody like, "That's Jimi Hendrix!"
"Man, he's about to blow up, man, with this Hulk Hogan exposure.
It's so cool for Hulk Hogan to give new artists a platform.
He's gonna be able to tour, he's gonna sell so much merchandise,
'cause of this exposure that Hulk Hogan is givin' to him.
It's a new audience!"
Turns out, Jimi Hendrix is dead, Hulk Hogan's a racist.
My world is crumbling all the time.
I'm a little bit older than my father was when they had me.
So naturally, that makes me wonder, "Do I want kids?
Do I wanna deal with children's quirks?"
There's quirks that come with having children.
Do I wanna have a small person fall asleep in public
and have to carry it around the rest of the day?
Even though it knows how to walk. Shit like that. Or...
Like, "How many horrible children's basketball games can I watch?"
I don't know how many 16-8 final scores a man can stomach.
"It's scoreless at halftime, 0-0."
I don't know how many back-to-back double-dribbling traveling violations
a man could handle.
"Traveling!"
I'm like, "This is a referee's bonanza right here.
These kids suck, but the referee is killin' it right now.
He hasn't missed one travel, huh? He's heartless."
They gotta learn some way.
No kids.
I've thought through some scenarios of having children.
Just in case.
Unlikely scenarios, but I wanna be prepared.
Here's one...
If my lady has triplets...
we have to give one away.
I refuse to keep three of the same baby, man, I can't.
That shit seems so overwhelming, man.
I'm open to having three children, but not three of the same baby.
I wanna mix it up a little bit. Come on, man.
What do I want three of a kind for?
This ain't Texas hold 'em, this is real life.
Get one of those babies up out of here, man.
You know how goofy that stroller situation would be?
How dumb that car seat situation would be?
Get one of those babies up out of here.
Give that baby to somebody that can't have babies.
Her body, her choice, so she can pick which baby we give away.
Unless we have two girls and a boy, she can't just give away the boy.
That's... Come on, balance.
She can pick which baby we give away.
If I'm being honest, I'm hoping she picks the first one.
I want her to pick the first baby, 'cause I'm the type of dude...
I don't like to grab the top newspaper at the newsstand.
It just seem like it got something on it, you know?
And that's my main message today.
That's really what I came here to say.
If you have triplets, give one away, and I'm sorry that rhymed.
That sounds like a Sugarhill Gang rap.
♪ My name is Hannibal And I'm here to say ♪
♪ If you have triplets Just give one away, hua! ♪
I'm sorry. No.
No.
I promise, give one of 'em away.
You wouldn't even miss it.
You'd forget all about that extra baby once you got so busy with the twins.
Look, I'm already calling 'em twins. Fuck that third baby.
I can't worry about other people's kids
when I have a family to take care of over here.
No kids. I have nephews and nieces.
Which is a perfect relationship...
because I don't live where they live.
So whenever I visit them, it's a goddamn event.
Every time. 'Cause absence makes the heart grow fonder.
I come to my sister's house, they're so psyched,
"Uncle Hannibal's in town!"
"You goddamn right I'm in town, kids! Hell, yeah!
Uncle Hannibal's in the building, what's up?
High fives all around."
"Yeah! Uncle Hannibal!"
And I always come through with the cool-ass, fly uncle gifts.
Video game systems, GoPros, helicopter drones.
"Yeah! Thank you for the drones, Uncle Hannibal."
"You're welcome for that drone.
Now how about you come here and tell me a boring-ass school story?
Oh, this is a horrible story.
You didn't establish any characters or anything.
This story sucks.
But I love you.
I won't say this to your face, but this story is garbage."
And it's perfect. It's a perfect relationship.
They get gifts, they get to see their uncle,
I get to feel something outside of show business,
we get what we need from each other, then we separate.
It's perfect.
They're like hookers for my sense of nurturing.
I was filming a movie and I did a scene where I had to act with a baby.
Me and a ten-month-old baby. There's a couple other people there,
but I was the one interacting with the baby, and what I found...
babies are horrible actors.
Don't respect the process. Showed up late, unprepared.
Didn't read the script, obviously. Not good at improvising.
I could go on and on. This baby sucked, man.
And it was an easy job for him.
Basically, be a baby. Visually, remain a baby.
Don't grow up and become a toddler in the middle of a scene.
As long as you still a baby, be a baby, be quiet,
make a couple grand, leave.
That was it.
But everybody's not built for the business, man.
Everybody's not ready for it. We get him on camera, he wasn't ready.
He was chillin' before the camera started.
I'm holding him, director calls, "Action," he just starts wailing.
"I'm afraid of success.
I'm wasting a huge opportunity right now. I have no future in this business."
They call, "Cut," man, I snapped out on the director.
I say, "Hey, Shaun, get this baby the fuck out of here, right now!
Get me a new baby right away,
or I'm walking off set, asshole. How about that?" No...
I didn't say any wild shit like that, man.
But guess what? I work with very intuitive, smart people.
They read my frustration, they saw the situation,
so they got a new baby in there right away.
Because you can't just hire one baby for a job.
You gotta have a back-up baby.
Them motherfuckers are unpredictable. So...
we get the back-up baby and then had the same problem.
We holding him... "Action!"
"I'm not about my paper.
I have very short-term thinking.
Hannibal will never work with me again."
"Get him out of here, Shaun!"
Man, we got a third baby in there.
What a pro.
He came in, knocked it out.
Ten minutes, three takes.
He did something a little different each take, he was amazing.
Came in, made a couple grand, bounced out like a G.
He came in there a baby,
he left a member of the Screen Actors Guild.
If he ever needs anything from me, recommendation, I'll help him out.
Who knows? That kid might be the next Brad Pitt.
Twenty years from now, he's giving me all them Morgan Freeman roles
and shit like that.
"Hey, Hannibal, what's up?
It's the baby from the movie. You wanna play God?"
"Yeah, I do. Hell, yeah!"
"In the follow-up, you wanna play an old-ass president?"
"You're goddamn right I do, man.
You never forgot where you came from."
I left out a major detail about those first two babies.
They were white.
And... I'm not the type of guy that will say that babies can be racist.
But I will say...
that they can have favorite colors.
And also, the third baby was white, too, man.
That wouldn't make any sense if they switched the race of the baby.
They were all white babies.
See, the third baby was a cool baby that could hang,
like J. J. Redick or Justin Timberlake, you know?
A cool-ass baby.
I guess, the children thing, if you're planning a family,
it comes down to perspective, what you see.
Like, some people, you're at the airport, you see a man, wife, two kids,
some people say, "Wow!
Look at that beautiful family."
But...
I just see a dude...
that had to buy four plane tickets.
And that shit adds up over time, man.
I'm just trying to figure out life, you know?
Figure out life just like you guys.
Trying to figure out math.
Not general math, but specific math that applies to my life.
I'm trying to figure out...
how many strangers I have to have empty sex with
before I propose to my ex-girlfriend. And...
the numbers are mounting irresponsibly.
It's messed up, 'cause I'm not even a good first fuck.
I'm not a good first fuck. It takes some time.
My dick gotta grow on you like the Yeezus album.
It takes a few listens.
At first, you go, "I didn't like that! But after several listens...
I have to say that he's one of the best."
Sometimes, I find myself in a situation where...
a woman I'm seeing wants more than I'm willing to give.
And that's not to say that she doesn't deserve what she wants,
that's just to say that I'm not the one to give it to her.
Does that make sense?
I'll give you an example of a situation that happened.
One time, chillin' out in the bed,
I got my left arm around this woman,
we had just finished up and we're chillin',
and she was trying to get me to double-arm cuddle hold her like that, and...
I didn't feel like we were there yet.
I didn't feel like we were double-arm...
cuddle status yet.
I feel like I was giving a lot, holding her with my left arm,
I was holding her tight with my left arm,
which is a lot considering we had just met about, probably,
three hours ago.
And I'm holding her tight like this.
And she kept on trying to get me to hold her like that and...
I didn't want to.
And that's not to say that she didn't deserve to be held like that,
that's just to say that I wasn't the one to do it at that moment.
How do I put this in a better way?
A dollar bill isn't worth that much in England...
but it's worth a lot in Mexico.
We all mean different things to different people,
is what I'm trying to say.
Finding true love is about finding your Mexico,
where you go somewhere and you say, "I get how many tacos for $3?
Holy shit!
I wanna stay here forever."
And you just hope that that feeling is mutual, and that's love.
There's an interesting energy around me sometimes
when I'm... I'm skeptical of people.
It's a weird emotion when you're...
when you're flattered and cynical at the same time.
People you see...
"Oh, that's nice that you would say that, but what the fuck are you up to?
What are you up to, lady? What's your motives?
What are you doing? What's going on here?
Why are you so giddy?
I don't know you. Where were you six years ago?
What's going on here? Is this a setup?
What's happening? Is this a setup?
Did Bill Cosby send you or some shit? What's going on right now?"
"I'm not falling for it."
Well, that situation got out of hand.
Yikes!
I was just doing a joke at a show.
I didn't like the media putting me at the forefront of it.
They were sly, dissing me in the news.
"Unknown comedian, Hannibal Buress..."
Just awful, that was how their leads were.
"Broke-ass comedian, Hannibal Buress, took the stage..."
"Homeless comedian, Hannibal Buress, took the stage in Philly covered in rags."
I got a lot of flak for that. People were writing me awful things.
I had people writing me,
"Bill Cosby's not a rapist, Hannibal. You are!"
What?
What? That's not how that works.
That's not how that works at all.
You know, the weirdest thing about getting a death threat
from a male bodybuilder/stripper on Facebook is...
when you click on his profile and see that you have one mutual friend.
And then hitting that friend up and saying,
"Hey, man, can you tell your buddy to stop saying that?"
Not that I think he's really gonna do it, I'd just rather him not say it to me.
You don't wanna take that energy into your brain if you don't have to.
'Cause I don't think that's how killers operate.
I don't think a killer... "I'm gonna kill Hannibal Buress.
First...
I'm going to the coffee shop, buying the cheapest thing,
so they give me the Wi-Fi code.
Then...
I'm sitting down, pulling out my Acer laptop and logging on to Facebook.
Then I'm searching 'Hannibal Buress, '
then I'm spelling 'Buress' correctly, then..."
It's an interesting situation, man.
It's very weird.
Who knew? Who knew that an off-hand joke...
about Cosby-raping would lead to me having...
amazing consensual sex across the country?
And...
I like to chase adrenaline, excitement.
That's why I do this. It's exciting.
I do other things to chase the excitement after the show's over.
I like to gamble.
Like in an old casino, I like craps.
I like craps because you can bet against the person that's rolling the dice.
You can be negative.
You can just walk up to the table,
"I don't believe in him, for $20. I don't believe in him."
"I don't like his hat. $30 against his hat."
You can bet against people for whatever reason.
It doesn't have to make sense.
"Hey, I don't like the cut of his jib. $50 against the cut of his jib."
I play blackjack, too.
And they say go by the book
to give yourself the best chance at winning in blackjack.
It's called basic strategy. Certain things which you're supposed to do
to give yourself the best chance of winning.
Like, certain things. Don't split tens.
Double down on 11 when the dealer's showing a three, these different rules.
One of those rules is, you're not supposed to hit on 17.
But if I have 17, and the dealer's showing 10,
I'm supposed to assume the dealer's down card is a 10,
so I'm staying on 17 against a 20.
I'm going out like a bitch. That's not how I like to live.
So sometimes, I hit on 17.
Situation came up, packed table, I had 17, dealer's showing 10,
I was the last one to go before the dealer flip,
I said, "Hit," and everybody at the table gasped and went,
"Holy shit, no!
No! He's on full tilt, holy shit!"
Even the dealer said, "Are you sure?"
"Yes, sir, I'm sure. Yes, I'm sure! Hit! Hit! I'm hitting on 17!"
I busted out, 27.
Turns out, dealer's down card's a five, I took his 10.
He would've busted out with 25.
His next card was a six, he got 21, everybody lost.
I took everybody down with me. Yeah.
Yes!
Now, that's kamikaze blackjack right there.
And, you know what, to be honest, that shit was way more fun than winning.
It's only a $10 table, on to the next one. It's gambling, baby!
We'll get that shit back. We got all night!
Drinks? Drinks? Drinks? All right.
I've been trying to come up with a way
for me and my friends to play Russian roulette without anybody dying.
Because I feel like Russian roulette, at its core,
is a very exciting game with extremely high stakes.
So, how do I bring that excitement into my life without the threat of death
while maintaining the integrity of the game
that the originators would have wanted? And...
I think I figured it out. Me and my friends go out into a field,
we have a revolver, put a bullet in the chamber, spin it,
and you have to pull the trigger with the gun pointed directly at your Xbox.
I feel like that's high stakes and low stakes at the same time.
You get a lot of feelings from that. One, you get to take a shot at an Xbox.
Two, you get to see if the Xbox works after you shoot it.
Three, you get to see if the Microsoft warranty even covers a shot-up Xbox.
And if they don't, you get to see
if you could get a cool customer service person that says,
"Man, we don't cover that, but y'all are crazy as hell for that shit, man.
That was so wild! I really respect the gamesmanship.
Thank you so much for bringing that new energy into my job and my life,
'cause I really hate my family right now, man.
You guys brought a jolt, I can't even describe it.
I'm gonna give you these free Xboxes, but in exchange,
can I please join your crew for two months,
probationary status, please, man?
I feel like I'd be at a good... You know what? I said too much.
My apologies, sir. This is unprofessional."
I did a charity show in New York a few months ago
and it was for Gilda Radner's Club.
Gilda's Club, and it was me, eight, nine other comedians.
We signed this poster. There was two of 'em, two posters.
They had all our pictures on them.
Before the show, we signed them,
and they were auctioned off in the middle of the show.
Rachel Dratch was hosting and she was auctioning off and she was like...
And they sold for $8,500 each.
Seventeen grand for two posters.
And then Rachel was like,
"Ladies and gentlemen, your next comedian, Hannibal Buress!"
Hey, wait a second, don't just bring me on.
Right, don't just do that. Wait a second, okay?
I'm not used to going on stage right after some posters just sold for a Honda Civic.
Like, kill some time, Rachel.
Give me a little time to process what just happened.
I'm not used to this. This is new energy.
Seventeen grand for two posters!
If I was on Price Is Right, I would've been completely off with that.
I'd be like, "Two posters, huh, Drew?
Uh...
Uh... $1."
Seventeen grand for two posters!
That is fuck-you money, right there.
I don't have fuck-you money.
I know a couple people that got it, I don't have fuck-you money.
I have "Hey, excuse me, don't talk to me like that, please" money.
I don't have fuck-you money. I got "strongly worded e-mail" money.
I got...
I got that "limp handshake, no eye contact" dough.
But I'm trying to get it, trying to figure it out.
Get a side business. Entertainment is too fleeting.
You gotta get something stable.
I wanna have something.
Just so that, 15 years from now, when somebody comes up to me,
"Hey, Hannibal, what happened? Haven't seen you on TV in a while.
Haven't seen you touring. What's going on, man?"
I say, "You're right, you're right.
And, you know, while I'd rather you not bother me
while me and my family are at this Bloomington Denny's, you know..."
"Let's talk about it, you know?
You're correct, my comedy career isn't going how it used to be going.
But guess what?
My gourmet deviled egg business is flourishing right now."
Deviled eggs, that's the biggest racket in the restaurant industry.
Three eggs cut in halves,
sprinkle some bullshit on 'em and charge $9.
Wow!
I want in. I want some of that deviled-egg money.
Use the deviled-egg money to fund my next racket.
I want my own liberal arts college.
Yeah.
"Come to Hannibal's Liberal Arts College." You know what my pitch would be?
"You wanna spend more money in four years
than you're gonna make in the next 25 years?
Well, come on! Come on here!"
"If you gonna be in debt,
you might as well be in debt with somebody you like a little bit.
I've been on TV at least six times. Come on!"
Use that money to fund my next racket.
It's a solid, practical business. I want my own toilet paper business.
That's a stable business.
Everybody uses toilet paper.
Unless you use baby wipes, which... Everybody should use baby wipes.
I don't know why we decided, as we get older,
we have to treat our assholes worse.
But toilet paper it is,
and toilet paper companies never shut down.
You never hear about it.
"Yeah, we had to shut our doors. People stopped shitting."
You never hear that. You never hear that!
And let's say, hypothetically, people do stop shitting.
Guess what? Toilet paper doesn't spoil.
You put it in your inventory in storage and wait it out.
They'll be shitting again, they can't hold it forever.
You just have to be patient and believe in your business.
I'm kind of talking to myself right now, not y'all.
And toilet paper companies rarely advertise.
And when they do choose to advertise, the concepts are very flimsy.
Like, "I don't know, man, what we gonna... Who cares?
Just put a bear on there. Who cares, man?
People are gonna come to us eventually. They have to shit. Get money, man.
The money's out there, we need to go get it.
This meeting's over and no more meetings. I hate talking about this shit, let's go.
Lunch? Lunch? Lunch? Let's go!
Sushi."
But before I embark on my journey as a multi-faceted businessman,
there are some steps I have to take to ensure success.
I gotta buy a printer.
I don't own a printer...
and I'm pretty sure you need at least three printers
to run your own liberal arts college.
I need a printer!
It's been holding me back, not having a printer.
I've been on the phone with people,
"Yeah, Hannibal, just print that out, sign it, get it right back to us.
We can get started working right away."
"Here we go again. I'm sorry, I don't have a printer.
Thank you for the opportunity.
I hope we can work together when I get a printer.
I hope you guys find someone to work with that has a printer.
Thank you. Goodbye."
I have to get a printer. I'm telling you.
That's the only difference between me and Kevin Hart.
He has a printer and I don't.
I'm telling you!
He's able to print out all the contracts and scripts.
He's printing that shit out.
I'm at Kinko's, he booked the gig already. Story of my life.
I should've been in Ride Along, is what I'm saying.
It's interesting being a performer
in this day and age... you know?
Everybody has cell phones. Cell phones. And people try to film.
I saw people filming the beginning of this.
Like, it's gonna be on Netflix. Way better.
"Let me get this shit, so I can show that I was there.
Hey, y'all, look at what I was sort of paying attention to."
We like to show that we saw stuff. We gotta show it.
Social currency. "Look at what I saw.
Look at what I saw. You don't get to see what I see.
Except for when you're looking at pictures of me seeing that shit."
Makes for some interesting situations.
One time, I landed in Columbia, Missouri.
Garbage, garbage airport.
Garbage airport.
One gate, one bathroom.
The bathroom is on the ticketing side,
which means as you go through security and something happens with your stomach,
you gotta go back on the other side of security,
handle your diarrhea situation and then go back over,
but they still search your shit like they did the first time.
Awful airport.
I would compare that airport to a bus station,
but that would be disrespectful to some of the nice bus stations I've been to.
Some of 'em would be offended.
So I land there...
and I'm walkin' to get a taxi out front.
And there's a police officer there. He recognizes me.
He fans out, "Holy shit! Hannibal Buress!"
"Relax, Officer..." It just seems weird.
It's weird to see a cop fan out, "Holy shit!"
"Dude, relax, you got a gun, man. Don't act like that, dawg.
Come on, man, you got a gun, you doing...
That shit don't look good in a uniform.
Save that behavior for plain clothes. Or, not at all.
How about that, man?"
"Dude, stop doing that with your leg, Officer."
Just makes me wonder, how...
Expect him to protect and serve, he's out...
fanning out in these streets.
He's chasing down a robber, he gets distracted,
"Hey, you get here right now! Come here!
Holy shit, come here! Police, stop it!
Whoa, is that Waka Flocka? Holy shit!"
Pow, pow, pow, pow!
Pow, pow, pow, pow, pow!
So the cop calms down and he says,
"Hannibal, I know this is unprofessional of me as a police officer,
but can I please take a picture with you?"
And I didn't wanna take a picture with the cop.
For a lot of reasons.
One, he posts it on social media...
people can caption it whatever they want.
It's out of my hands.
"Comedian Hannibal Buress snitching at the bus station."
Also, I don't know if he's a good cop.
I don't know if he even likes black people,
and just really likes a few that's on television.
It's messed up, but it's how some white people are, unfortunately.
Some white people are like, "I don't like niggers,
but LeBron James is amazing."
But I just took the picture with him.
'Cause it was quicker and easier to take the picture with him
than it was to explain all the reasons why I didn't want to.
Also, these days,
you deny a cop something, that shit can go left real fast.
"Hannibal, can I please take a picture with you?"
"You know what, Officer, I'm sorry, I'd rather not."
"Hey, stop resisting!"
"Stop resisting!"
Then the news story is,
"Comedian Hannibal Buress...
grabs police officer's gun at the bus station."
Now, there's an eyewitness all of a sudden.
"Yeah, I saw the whole thing. Let me tell you what happened.
Hannibal walked off the plane, went to the bathroom, took a shit.
And he walked right up to the cop and started grabbing his gun.
And he's way bigger and stronger than you think.
And I don't like his stand-up. His show sucked.
Broad City is okay. Guilty."
Ah.
I had a weird situation recently.
My cleaning lady brought her kid with her.
I hear you, I know that sounds obnoxious to start a joke with "my cleaning lady,"
but the shit, it's not that extravagant. It's like 60, 70 bucks.
A bunch of you motherfuckers spend that on vaporizer accessories easily.
So don't... judge me and my 60-buck cleaning lady.
She brought a kid with her. Here's the problem with that.
I'm 32, I live by myself. You can't just bring a kid into my world unannounced.
Give me 15 minutes heads up out of courtesy at least, God damn.
But I have empathy, so I realized she brought her kid because she had to.
Not because she wanted to. So I didn't kick them out.
I didn't say, "Hey, both of you get the fuck out of here!
You come back by yourself when you're ready to clean for real, all right?"
I didn't say that, 'cause I'm not a goddamn monster.
I welcomed them to my place. I popped the Xbox on.
I grabbed the kid some juice. I'm a great host when I'm under pressure.
I go into my room to do some work.
I overhear the kid say,
"Ma!
Ma, is there another room to chill in?
Because this couch is really uncomfortable."
"Oh, for real? You're uncomfortable, little homie?
That's interesting that you're uncomfortable,
'cause I'm uncomfortable, too.
First of all, I didn't know your ma was doing
an impromptu bring-your-child-to-work day.
I'm uncomfortable. I don't want you here, man.
There's lube and drugs.
You might find a fake pussy if you look around enough.
I don't want you to see that stuff.
You don't deserve to see that stuff this early."
It's called a Fleshlight. And...
And I got it as a gift once.
I used it twice for the novelty, once for loneliness.
And... then I stopped after that.
You know you gotta put that shit in hot water every time?
Get out of here. Every time?
No, not a chance.
Let the dust settle on that device.
Man, it's messed up.
Pornography has changed how I view some situations.
Porn has changed how I view some situations.
Now, because of porn,
any time a white couple in their 40s or 50s is really nice to me,
I think it's 'cause the dude wants me to fuck his wife in front of him.
"Hey, Hannibal, good show. Can we get you a drink?"
Uh...
"I'm not really with that cuckold stuff. Man, I can't...
Can't do that. Can't fuck her with you in the room.
Apologies, man, I'm flattered. I'm skeptical, but, uh...
you all do your own thing, man. I'm not into that."
"Okay, maybe we could negotiate some type of Skype situation where...
you can't talk during the Skype, though.
I will mute you if you say anything.
So don't pop into Skype with,
'Yeah, you fuck her with that big, black--'
Hey, you're muted, man. Come on!"
I'm a big sports fan, man. I'm a big sports fan.
I've spent a lot of time in New Orleans over the past year.
And I went and watched their basketball team.
Their basketball team changed their name to the Pelicans.
The New Orleans Pelicans, which I thought was a goofy name change at first.
But it's not the worst NBA franchise name at all.
There's the San Antonio Spurs.
Spur is part of a boot.
There's the Phoenix Suns.
That's stupid. There's only one sun.
There's the Orlando Magic, that's stupid.
You're just gonna name your team after another basketball player.
There's the Utah Jazz.
Used to be the New Orleans Jazz, but they moved to Utah,
keeping the Jazz name,
even though there's nothing jazzy about Utah at all.
It's the least jazzy place I've visited in my life.
It's actually a misdemeanor to own a saxophone in Utah.
Minneapolis Lakers changed into the LA Lakers.
LA is in a drought, there's no goddamn lakes there.
People are dying right now.
You clappin' about people dying? Y'all suck.
So I thought the Pelican name was goofy...
and so I researched pelicans.
If you search "pelican" on YouTube,
the first result is a video of a pelican
calmly walking up to a group of pigeons chillin',
and then just ate one whole.
Just ate it whole.
And didn't even run away afterwards, he sat around.
"Holy shit, I just ate your friend in front of you! Wow!
I gotta say, I feel very powerful right now.
God damn! Your friend was right there, now he's right here. He's gone!
Holy shit, I'm shaking right now!
One by one, you bitches look at me in my eyes
and tell me how that made you feel. Wow!
Whoo! Hey, human, were you filmin' that?
If you gonna post online, make sure you post it on YouTube
and WorldstarHipHop to maximize the views.
Very different audiences, not a lot of overlap.
You gotta post on both. We can go viral, man."
So I got respect for the pelican after that.
The Pelicans play basketball in a building that recently changed its name
to the Smoothie King Center.
Yeah, the Smoothie King Center.
I'm like you were,
I didn't know Smoothie King was crushing shit like that either.
I didn't know they were doing that well. I knew they were doing all right.
I didn't know Smoothie King was doing NBA-arena well.
I thought Smoothie King was doing well in the same way
where your favorite taco spot opens up a second location.
Where you're like, "Oh, shit. Good for Gustavo, man. He crushing it.
Got his number two spot. Good for him."
But Smoothie King is smart,
'cause they're one of the few companies that have NBA arenas
that can sell their product effectively in the arena.
You can buy a smoothie in the Smoothie King Center,
then sit down and watch the game.
Well, nobody's going to the Staples Center
and then buying three printers and watching the Lakers.
I know they don't sell printers there. Do they? I don't know.
Nobody in Orlando's going to the Amway Center
and getting caught in a pyramid scheme real quick and...
watching the Magic.
I guess what I'm saying is, good for Smoothie King,
in a very long-winded way.
So, we watched the Pelicans play at the Smoothie King Center.
Me and my lady at the time, we leave, we're looking for a taxi.
We get a few blocks away. We find one.
It's a guy leaning on his taxi, arms folded.
And I walk up to him, I say,
"Hey, sir, can you take us to Frenchmen Street, please?"
He says, "I can't take you. I'm already hired. Waiting for someone.
I can't take you."
And my girl, she was kinda... We were both a little drunk.
She was a little oblivious and slightly white, so...
So she just said, "All right," and was ready to walk away,
but I'm a skeptic at heart.
I'm a skeptic, 'cause I'm thinking,
"Wait a second, who the hell ordered a yellow taxi ahead of time
to leave the basketball game...
and also told it to be three blocks away?"
What? In my mind, nobody, that's who.
So, I'm a gambler. I'm a gambling dude.
I politely, calmly, call his bluff.
I say, "What's the name of the person that you're waiting for?
Because maybe it's me."
This guy proceeds to just crumble under this very light pressure.
He crumbled. He started screaming.
"Do you have permission to ask me the name of the person?
You don't have permission to ask me the name of the person that I'm waiting for!
You don't have permission to ask me that shit!"
And I'm looking at him, "Dude, you could've just said, 'Michael.'
Lie to me, man! You could've said anything!"
So now it's obvious he's not taking me because I'm black, which was upsetting.
And now my lady realizes he's a piece of shit, so she says...
"You're a piece of shit."
And I'm yelling at him, "Why won't you take us?"
He's yelling back. We're yelling back and forth, back and forth,
yelling horrible things at each other.
Just a real unproductive conversation.
It's funny how some people see that, they wanna help out.
This bigger white guy saw the whole thing.
He walks up and says, "Hey! Hey, you guys! Hey!
Stop arguing with this asshole!
You don't need to do this. This is what you do.
You write down his taxi number and you call the Taxi Commission.
Then they're gonna fine him,
and then they're gonna get his foreign ass out of the country."
I was like, "Holy shit, dude!
Yo, did you just double-down on his racism right now?
Did you just see him not giving us a ride
and raise it to a get-the-fuck-out-of-the-country?
Because that's next level shit.
I don't think you're helping right now, man."
Sports are amazing.
Sports are so crazy.
There's dudes that get paid millions of dollars
just to talk about sports.
There's a segment during the NFL season called "Bold Predictions."
And it's where four dudes sit around a table
and just say outlandish shit for a few minutes.
"Hey, what's your bold prediction for Sunday?"
"I think Peyton Manning is gonna throw for nine touchdowns."
"Wow, that's a very bold prediction!"
"Hey, that's the name of the segment, isn't it, man?"
"Well, okay, but what if he doesn't throw for nine touchdowns?"
"Man, I'm not accountable for any of the shit I'm saying up here.
Thought we were just tryin' to fill time and fill these segments until we die, man.
How about you never challenge me on television again, you nerd?
How about I got another bold prediction?
If you say some shit like that again, I'll punch you in your face, dawg.
That's two bold predictions.
And now next, for the Hot Seat..."
I enjoy sports.
I'm not a... I'm not a big...
Not a big baseball fan.
I respect the skill. I respect the discipline it takes to be great.
But it's just...
It's tough to watch.
Give me situational baseball.
Give me bottom of the ninth, tie game, bases loaded, full count, two outs.
But don't show me what led up to that shit.
Baseball is boring.
A baseball game is good to go to
if you got a friend you haven't seen in eight years,
and you wanna just go somewhere and talk for a few hours,
with no interruption.
Baseball stinks!
One of the greatest achievements in a game of baseball is the "no hitter."
That's when nothing happens.
"Oh, man, he was so good. Nothing happened, man.
He was amazing!
It was an amazing afternoon of pop flies and ground balls.
It was great. Everybody was a-swingin' and a-missin'.
It was amazing!"
I don't like some of the rules in baseball.
I don't like the intentional walk rule,
which allows a pitcher to avoid his fears and problems.
"I think this guy's too good. He's very good.
Y'all think he's good, too? I think he's too good.
That motherfucker's amazing. Back there, y'all think he's too good?
All right, cool, we're not gonna do that.
We're not gonna throw to him, so, uh...
Catcher, please rise and move a comical distance away from the plate.
Just a goofy-ass distance away from the plate.
I'm gonna throw to you four times, 'cause if I throw it to him fairly,
he might have me on TV doing this shit, right here.
'Oh, man.'"
That has to suck, as a pitcher,
you have to look at your bad job in the sky, "Oh, no.
Not again."
Sometimes there's fireworks when you do a bad job.
Pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop! "Oh, man!
It's messed up, 'cause I like fireworks, but not like this, man.
Context is everything, for real."
Pow, pow, pow, pow, pow, pow, oh!
Pitcher. That's one of the few jobs, where if you do poorly...
there's explosions in the sky.
One of the others is TSA agent.
Like, "Oh, shit.
Oh, man."
So, I don't like baseball for those reasons.
I'm a huge fan of steroids, though.
I love steroids. I'm flattered when athletes do steroids.
Thank you.
Thank you for sacrificing your long-term health
for my short-term entertainment. Hell, yeah.
Thank you so much for taking drugs to excel at this child's game.
But they get upset when they found out athletes was on steroids.
They get mad. The game gets mad.
The game of baseball. Not The Game, the rapper.
I don't know his feelings on steroids.
"We found out you were on steroids in 2008."
They find out really late sometimes.
It would be way more exciting if they found out midgame and shut it down.
Like... "Stop the game right now!
He is on drugs! You don't believe me?
Grab his balls, they're very light. That's a symptom.
He's on drugs. Game over."
"We found out you were on steroids in 2008."
Well, you know what? Sometimes you gotta let it go.
'Cause you know what that person was probably doing on steroids?
They were probably hitting home runs, creating happiness,
making strangers high five each other and bond.
Like, Sammy Sosa was on steroids years ago,
and he was hitting home runs.
And you know who was watching Sammy Sosa in the stands?
Probably lots of fathers and sons and they remember that moment.
"Hey, Dad.
Do you remember when Sammy Sosa hit three home runs in one game?"
"Yep, I remember that, son. That was your first baseball game."
"Oh, thanks for that moment. That was amazing, Dad."
"It was great to share that moment with you, son.
I love you. You're my only son."
"I love you, too, Dad."
Steroids did that shit.
Steroids created that beautiful memory for that father and son.
So, if you're against steroids, you're against family, I guess.
Because PCP never did that for a father and son.
There's never been a father and son...
"Hey, Dad, you remember when that naked man wouldn't stop punching us? Oh!
What a horrible night, Daddy.
He had so many combinations, and so much speed,
and it felt like he had equal power in both fists, Dad.
What a... He was a beast. He had no weaknesses, Pop."
They found out Lance Armstrong was on steroids and I say,
"Who gives a fuck? He was riding a bike. Let him do drugs. How about that?
How about you stop bothering that boy, let him ride his bike and do his drugs?"
Also, Lance Armstrong somehow became a millionaire for riding a bicycle,
so he's a goddamn magician in my eyes.
How do you do that? How do you make any money riding a bike,
if you don't have a sandwich or a pizza you're delivering to somebody?
So, let that magical drug boy ride his bike and do his drugs.
And, of course he was on drugs.
Did you see how long he had to ride a bike for?
I take an Adderall just to clean my apartment.
And even then, I don't finish.
I just end up super-focused on some weird shit from my past.
Like my high school yearbook.
"Damn, I miss my friend Ken, my friend Torian,
my homie Black, my homie Scuba.
Look, debate team, football team. Miss Carter's English class.
Oh, shit, it's my high school brunch group! God damn, man!"
All right, good night, y'all. Thanks a lot!
One more time for Hannibal Buress, everybody!