Is This Anything?

by Jerry Seinfeld

I like whatever the weather. Because that is the weather for the day that it is. Here’s your choice: You’re dead. Or it’s today. Those are the options. You either don’t exist or, occasional drizzle. Take your pick.

Braces Glasses I had glasses at 10, braces at 12. When you’re thinking about talking to a girl for the very first time in your life, you want as much corrective apparatus on your head as you can possibly get. I said to my parents, “Let’s not stop now, how about a hearing aid, orthopedic shoes? I want to look like a human science project. Sparks flying out from behind my head. This is my image. Let’s go with it.”

Watching postal employees work is like watching a lava lamp, isn’t it? They’re just floating and oozing around back there. I think there’s a big lightbulb in the back. That heats them up so they kind of float up to the front. Sell a few books of stamps, then they cool and slowly drift into the back again. That’s how the postal system works.

Crook Head Protect When the cops catch a crook they hit him with the nightstick. Get him in a chokehold. Cuff him behind his back. But then when they put him in the back of a police car, they always keep their hand on the top of his head. “You don’t want to hit your head on the edge of the door, there. That really hurts.”

The Involuntary Luge The luge is another great Olympic event. It’s on the bobsled run. But there’s no sled. It’s just Bob. I think it’s the only sport I’ve ever seen that if you had people competing in it against their will, it would be basically the same thing. If they were just grabbing people off the street. (fighting back) “Hey, hey, hey… I don’t want to be in that.” Then strap them to the thing and shoot them down the course. We would have no way of knowing. He’s got the helmet on, so we wouldn’t hear the screaming. “Sorry, buddy, you’re in the luge.” World record. Didn’t even want to do it. They should try it in the next Olympics. Call it, the Involuntary Luge.

Alone in the Bathroom We’re all alone in the bathroom. Whatever goes wrong, you have to handle it. Did you ever go to a big party, go in the bathroom, flush the toilet, and the water starts coming… up? This is the most frightening moment in the life of a human being. You’ll do anything to stop this. You’ll lose your mind and start talking to the toilet. “No, please, don’t do this to me! Come on, you know this is not my fault. I didn’t make this happen. Just tell me what you want… I’ll get you the blue thing. The little man in the boat. Just let me off the hook this one time…”

Horseback I’ve gone horseback riding. Can’t do it. And they don’t give you the really good horses when you’re not good at it. I found that out. The guy says to me, “What level rider would you say that you are?” I said, “I don’t know. Zero. Nothing. Whatever the system is. I can’t do it. Is that clear enough for you? I’m going wherever the horse wants to go. That’s my ‘level’…” Of course after they hear that they start looking around… “All right… is Glue Stick back yet? How about Almost Dead? Why don’t you saddle him up?” So I get on this U-shaped, lightning-quick steed. I’ve got the only horse, you could put your feet flat on the ground while you’re riding him. “I’m riding a hammock here.” Looking up at my friends, “I don’t feel like we all got the same kind of horse here.” It is kind of a secure feeling, though. I could walk along with him if I wanted. And the horse wasn’t too thrilled with having me either. Because I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. So he takes control. You know how they just stop sometimes? And they do that slow roll of their head to look up at you? Like, “Who the hell did I draw here…?” And they look at you with that huge black, brand-new-bowling-ball eye? “Chill out, Hopalong. I know the trail. I’m here every god damn day, okay? And I really appreciate the kicking while I’m taking a leak, too. Thanks a lot. That really improves the already wonderful life that I have. People either sitting on me. Jerking my head around. Or kicking me while I’m peein...

Flower Power Probably the only thing that enables a man to keep a relationship going over a long period of time is the existence of flowers. A man alone cannot survive in a relationship. But a man with some flowers has a chance. If there were no flowers on earth, the world would be men and lesbians, that’s it. And that’s why flower stores are not set up right for what men need. It should be that you walk in, you tell them what you did wrong, they give you the flowers for that, and you just continue right out the back. The “Alright, Your Brother’s Not an Idiot” bouquet. The “Your Career’s Important Too” basket. Also, any man carrying a big bouquet of flowers is the king of that street. No other man with a woman wants to be seen anywhere near this guy. Or he gets, (elbow jab) “See? That’s what I’m talking about…” Because he’s carrying flowers. He could have a severed head in the other hand. She doesn’t notice that.

Married/Single The other problem I have being married, is I can no longer pretend to be interested in the dating problems of my single friends. “You called some girl, she didn’t call you back… I don’t care.” “Can’t seem to meet the right person? Change your entire personality.” When I was single I had married friends. I would not visit their homes. I found their lives to be pathetic and depressing. Now that I’m married, I have no single friends. I find their lives to be meaningless and trivial experiences. In both cases, I believe I was correct. Whichever side of marriage you’re on You don’t get what the other people are doing. I can’t hang out with single guys. If you don’t have a wife, we have nothing to talk about. You have a girlfriend? That’s Wiffle ball, my friend. You’re playing Paintball War. I’m in Afghanistan with real loaded weapons. Married guys play with full clips and live rounds. “This is not a drill.” Single guy is sitting on a merry-go-round, blowing on a pinwheel. I’m driving a truckful of nitro down a dirt road. You single guys here tonight, looking at me… “Hey, Jerry, what if I want to be a married guy like you? What do I got to have if I want to be a married guy?” I’ll tell you what you got to have. You better have some answers, buddy… You better have some answers for that woman. Women have a lot of questions. Their brains are strong. Active. And on high alert at all times. You’re sleeping, she’s researching. (flipping book pages quickly) The female br...

A wife is not a relationship. A wife is an extra head mounted next to your head.

Of course Facebook, another great trash receptacle of human time… Which everyone loves because not only does the name Facebook complete the final whoring out of the word “book.”

Cookies Different foods affect you at different times of day. Cookies wait for night. I’ve never seen a cookie in the morning. I don’t know where they are. Cookies know in the morning, you are strong, they are weak. At night you are weak, they are strong. That’s why most cookies are round, because this is a face-to-face confrontation. You can almost feel their little chocolate chip eyes on you. Something happens between 9:00 and 11:30… You’re talking to someone, their face turns into a cookie. You look away, the clock is a cookie. The moon is a cookie. Cookie companies make cookies seem very innocent, “It’s just elves living in trees. They make them as a hobby…” They always put happy clowns and balloons on the box. The truth is cookies should have names like “Chocolate Sons of Bitches.” That’s what our real relationship is. “Those little ‘Vanilla Bastards’ got me again last night. And I told you to stop buying those ‘Go to Hell Wafers’ with the ‘Screw You Cream’ inside. I didn’t stand a chance.” It’s a war. That’s why the cookies live like military. Inside boxes in those pre-formed Army barracks housing. You slide it out, it’s like a D-day beach-landing troop carrier. All the cookies are lined up waiting to go into combat. But I prefer the box over the bag of cookies. Where they’re all just climbing all over each other, just complete anarchy and chaos. You get to the end of a row of cookies, I don’t care how crazy you are, you stop for a second and go, “What the hell am I ...

Your Job I don’t know the occupation of one person in this audience. I don’t know where you work. I’ve never set foot in your place of business, but I know one thing about your job. I know, wherever you work, you cannot believe how dumb the system they have there is. “How did they get so many idiots in one place? And this new nincompoop that’s in charge of these morons is an even bigger pinhead than the last jerk those numbnuts hired. I’d quit but I could never make the same money someplace else doing as little work as I do here. Are you kidding? I love it here, I do nothing. I just don’t understand why the company’s doing so bad.”

Kids in Bed My wife has been bringing our youngest one in the bed every night at 3 o’clock in the morning. This is another beautiful experience. It’s like sleeping next to a laundry bag that has a live goat tied up inside. All night long the goat is punching and kicking, trying to get out. He has somehow mounted himself onto a rotating display wheel that works its way around the bed raising his body temperature to 189 degrees. How does that little body pump out all that heat? God, it’s hot in there… And not only is it romantic to sleep with your wife like that, but you wake up feeling refreshed and ready to go.

Marriage Happy The key to marriage of course, is to make the other person happy. That’s what I tell all my guy friends. “Make your woman happy.” You? You’re not going to be happy and that’s good. Because that cuts your work in half. Now we’re down to one person that we have to worry about keeping so god damn happy. You think men want to be happy? We don’t even know what it is. We don’t care what it is. We’ve never experienced it. And couldn’t be less interested in it. What men want is to do whatever the hell stupid thing it is that we’re doing, and if you could please just leave me the hell alone and let me do it, I think we’ll both be a lot happier. And ladies, this is the thing about men you have to understand, we’re not really ever happy or unhappy. We’re just guys. Men just do what we have to do until someone comes up to us and says, “Hey, come here. I got something else for you to do.” We go, “Okay,” and then we do that.

Look Fat My wife is very smart. So, I have to be thinking all the time too. Because the bored female is a very dangerous individual. They will invent games to play to alleviate the boredom that are not fun games. A wife will say, “I’m going to put on an outfit that is completely wrong for my body type, and I would like to get your opinion of it.” Oh no, I don’t want to play this. “Why? It’s not a difficult game. I’m just going to move these different shells around a little and you simply have to pick the right one. I’m just asking if you think this makes me look fat?” “No, I don’t. Because you are not fat, so that would be impossible.” “But if it did make me look fat, would you consider lying to not hurt my feelings?” … “Well, I would never want to hurt your feelings.” “Then you might be lying. I could look fat.” That’s it. Game over. You lose again. “Would you like to play ‘Do you think my friend is pretty’ roulette?” And that’s not even Russian Roulette. There’s a bullet in every chamber of that game.

Dual Zone Climate Control You are not alone in marriage. Society, culture, technology even is helping you on your journey. For example, in your car, dual zone separate buttons on each side climate control systems. Gee, I wonder if it was a married person that thought of that? Thought this could possibly come in handy, if you are with a certain person that you are perchance legally bound to for the rest of your life, and you need them to shut the hell up about the temperature. “I’m freezing. I’m roasting. I’m boiling. It’s blowing on me.” When my wife says, “The air is on me.” It’s the equivalent of a normal person saying, “A bear is on me.” That is the emergency level we are at. And I respond at that level too. “Oh my god, an evil breeze from a hostile vent is attacking my mate and life partner. Who, incidentally, bore me three children without anesthesia. Probably could have caught the babies herself if no one else was around… But cannot survive a waft of air, three degrees off her optimum desired temperature.” And I’m sure this stupid Dual Zone thing totally works too. To keep different-temperature air molecules from co-mingling Inside a three-foot-wide closed compartment of an automobile. Because when I go to my coffee place in the morning, I like to get my coffee black on the left side of the cup, cream and sugar on the right. And that’s no problem, they can do that. Or you go to a fancy restaurant, they ask you, “Do you want still or sparkling water?” I say, “Both. Sa...