Is This Anything?

by Jerry Seinfeld

Save your energy.

  So you can turn this place back into a disgusting rathole after I leave.

  You make me sick.”

  That would be me as a maid.

  A Little Hair

  A little hair could be a gigantic problem.

  You ever have a friend staying over your house,

  they use the shower.

  Then later, you use the shower, and you notice

  there’s a little hair…

  on the wall of the shower?

  For some reason,

  this little hair is the most disgusting thing you have ever encountered in your life.

  And you want to get rid of it, but you don’t want to touch it.

  I don’t know how it got up that high in the first place.

  So, you’ve got to aim the showerhead… at the hair.

  Sometimes the water doesn’t hit it…

  Then you have to take little handfuls of water and walk back and forth.

  It’s like putting out a fire in 1906.

  You keep dumping them on it as it goes down the wall a foot at a time.

  Sometimes the hair really hangs on.

  It doesn’t want to go down.

  It wants to be with you.

  It’s a terrible relationship.

  The hair loves you and you’re trying to drown him.

  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…”

  Alcatraz Faucets

  What is the problem that we can’t have a regular faucet in an airport bathroom?

  That they will not give us a “twist-it-on, twist-it-off” human-style faucet?

  Is that too risky for the general population?

  Too dangerous?

  “We better install the one-handed, spring-loaded, pain-in-the-ass Alcatraz-style faucets.”

  Those ones where you have to go,

  “Hey, I got a little water there. Oo—a couple drops.”

  What is it that they think we would do with a faucet?

  Turn them all on full?

  Run out into the parking lot, laughing,

  pushing each other into the bushes?

  “Come on, the water’s on, let’s go! I turned it on full blast.”

  “You idiot!

  We’re businessmen.

  We’re going to miss our plane.”

  “Who cares? Waa-ter!”

  That’s how they think we’ll behave.

  Missed Flight

  You get anxious on your way to the airport.

  Because if you miss the plane, there’s no alternative.

  On the ground you have options.

  Cars, trains, buses.

  You miss your flight, there’s no other forms of air travel.

  The airline doesn’t go,

  “Well, we do have a cannon leaving in about 10 minutes.”

  They stamp your boarding pass, give you a helmet.

  “Now, is this a direct cannon?”

  “No, you will have to change cannons when you land.

  And make sure you get out of the net quickly.

  Because we shoot the luggage in right behind you.”

  They have a guy aiming it,

  “Where you going, Denver?

  Oh, Chicago.

  (changes direction slightly)

  Alright, wait a second…”

  Horse Racing

  Went to the track to see some horse racing.

  I would never do that on my own.

  I’m a “Go with” guy.

  I really don’t want to do most things.

  But, I will “Go with.”

  Betting on horses.

  So ridiculous.

  Can’t possibly win.

  What are we betting on?

  Do the horses even know that it’s a race?

  That’s the first thing I need to be convinced of before I’m putting money down.

  After the race, are the horses walking back to the stable?

  “I was third.”

  “I was fifth.”

  “I was ninth.”

  I think they’re walking back going,

  (singing)

  “Oat bag…

  I get my oat bag now.

  It’s oat bag time for me…”

  I mean, I’m sure the horses have some idea of what’s going on.

  They probably know that, “This guy on my back is in a huge hurry.”

  He’s hitting him with the thing.

  He’s yelling at him, “Come on, come on!”

  But the horse must get to the end and go,

  (out of breath)

  “We were just here!

  What was the point of that?

  This is where we were.

  That was the longest possible route you could take to get where you wanted to be.

  Why didn’t we just stay here?

  We would have been first…”

  I’ll tell you one thing the horses definitely do not know.

  They do not know that if you should accidentally trip and break your leg at any point during the race…

  We blow your brains out.

  I have a feeling they’re missing that little tidbit of information.

  I think if they knew that,

  you’d see some mighty careful stepping coming down that home stretch.

  “Take it easy… take it easy… watch your footing…

  You win, I’ll place… whatever.

  First or last, it’s the same bag of oats, boys…

  The important thing is your health.”

  Glue Factory

  I have heard that when horses get old they send them to the glue factory.

  I would like to know, actually, how the hell you make a horse into glue?

  Who saw that potential?

  Someone working in a stationery store?

  Sees a horse walk by?

  “You know what, I think he could be glue.”

  So, they have a machine with horses walking in on one side

  and little glue bottles coming out the other?

  That is some machine.

  If you’re a glue manufacturer can you look at a bunch of horses

  and tell which are the really sticky ones?

  “See that one, kind of weaving around?

  He’s out of his mind.

  He’ll be Krazy Glue.”

  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 f
eet 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 peeing.

  It’s perfect.

  I’m living in a paradise here at the ranch.”

  Horsepower

  There’s just no end to the indignity of being a horse.

  You go horseback riding.

  The horse sees you pull up… in a car.

  He knows, you have absolutely no real need to do this.

  I get out of a car that has 500 horsepower.

  So I can sit on an animal that has 1.

  Why do we even use the term “horsepower”?

  Is it just to further humiliate the horses?

  Each Space Shuttle rocket has about 20 million horsepower.

  Is there any point in continuing to compare it… to the horses?

  Any chance of going back to using horses for rocket propulsion?

  Trying to keep track of how many we’re going to need?

  “Hey, horse…

  We had a rocket engine that broke down.

  Can you get 20 million friends together, really fast?”

  The horse has got the straw hat with the ears coming through, pulling the hayride.

  “Twenty million…? That’s a lot…

  I don’t even have 20 friends, let alone 20 million.”

  Horse Trailer

  To me, the toughest part of being a horse would be the trailer.

  Why do they make it like that?

  Is that the best way to move horses down the highway?

  With their huge, fat, disgusting rear ends… right in my face?

  Do the horses like it?

  They’re probably standing in the back going,

  “Do you feel a draft, Bill?

  I can’t see anything back there, but it’s awfully breezy, isn’t it?

  You don’t think our huge, fat asses are hanging out the back of this truck, do you?

  Why the hell would they do that to us?

  They already sit on us and kick us while we’re peeing.

  Why would they drive us around with our ass sticking out of a truck, too?”

  Pony

  Parents deceive kids about the Pony Ride.

  “It’s a little horse, growing up just like you.”

  It’s a very slow, smelly, uneventful experience.

  It’s not a ride.

  It’s a brain-dead schlep through a dusty dirt and dung patch.

  I’m sitting on the thing, and the guy is leading it around a 20-foot circle.

  And even as a kid I remember thinking,

  “Oh, this is just too pointless.

  Someone get me off this freaky little mutant.”

  So beyond the Pony Ride, what exactly is the contribution of the ponies to society?

  Pony manure? For fertilizer?

  I don’t think there’ll be enough of it.

  Police don’t use ponies for crowd control.

  (looking up)

  “Hey, you want to get back behind the barricade?

  Little boy?

  Down here…

  I’m talking to you.”

  I assume that somehow somebody genetically engineered these horses to be this size.

  Could they make them any size?

  Could they make them the size of a quarter if they wanted?

  That would be fun for Monopoly, wouldn’t it?

  You put him on the board…

  “Baltic, that’s one more, fine, right there, hold it right there.”

  Nose Job

  A friend of mine is going in for a nose job next week.

  Guy.

  Nose job.

  You know what the technical term for a nose job is?

  Rhinoplasty.

  RHINO.

  Now, the guy is aware he has a bit of a problem.

  He’s obviously sensitive about it.

  That’s why he made the appointment.

  Is it really necessary to compare him to a rhinoceros?

  When you go for a hair transplant, they don’t say,

  “We’re going to perform a Cue-ball-ectomy on you, Mr. Johnson.

  We feel the Chrome-domus has advanced

  to a level we term, Skin-head-ia.

  These are all medical terms, you understand.”

  Mad Cow

  What I love about the Mad Cow Disease is we

  of course attempt to blame it on the cow.

  “It’s not our fault, these cows are crazy.

  They’re nuts, they’re out of their minds.”

  We show them sliding down these slippery ramps all out of control.

  And the cows are probably,

  “Oh sure, you’re drinking me, eating me, wearing me,

  sneaking up on me and tipping me over, and I’m the one who’s off…?”

  Drugstore

  Seems like it would be fun to make up these drug ingredient words.

  “Now, with an extra drop of Retsyn.”

  And we all go,

  “Well, that’s good.

  Honey, we’re getting more Retsyn.”

  What is Retsyn?

  How much were we getting?

  That’s medical science.

  Some guy in a white coat going,

  (tastes)

  “Hmm… you know, I think it needs more Retsyn.”

  “How much?”

  “Ah, give them an extra drop.

  What the hell…

  That should be enough.

  They’re lucky they’re getting any Retsyn.”

  I had a cold a couple of weeks ago.

  I go in the drugstore.

  It’s an entire wall of cold medications.

  You ever catch yourself reading ingredients in a drugstore?

  “Oh, this one has .03 tetrahydroziline.

  That’s a good amount of that.”

  Sometimes you have to contemplate some existential questions.

  “All right, so this product is quick acting…

  But this one is long lasting.

  So, when do I need to feel good?

  Now?

  Or later?

  I don’t know.”

  I like how they always show you how the medicine works on TV.

  Where the guy says,

  “Here’s the human body.”

  It’s always this guy.

  (Arms wide. Palms facing out. Head to the side.)

  You know this guy.

  No face.

  Mouth open.

  This is how drug companies see the public.

  He’s always got the tube coming down here and then there’s the circle.

  (Throat. Stomach.)

  These are the complex inner workings of the human body, I assume.

  I’m sure when you go to medical school, they probably put that up on the board the first day.

  “Okay everyone, now remember, you got your tube coming down from the mouth.

  And that goes into your ci
rcle area.

  That’s pretty much all we know.

  That’s it for today.

  Don’t miss tomorrow.

  We’re going to practice making people wait in a little room in their underwear…

  And then you will all be doctors.

  That’s all there is to it.”

  Then in the commercial, they have to show you the pain.

  That’s the part where they say,

  “Here’s where you hurt.”

  Pain is usually represented by some sort of lightning attacking the guy.

  Glowing redness is popular.

  Sometimes parts of the guy’s body will just burst into flames.

  Sometimes the whole guy is out of focus.

  I’ve never had a doctor say to me,

  “Are you having any pain?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “Are you having any lightning with the pain?”

  “Tiny hammers banging on you?”

  “Have you seemed to be in a fun-house mirror at any time?”

  Then they tell you about the pain-relieving ingredient.

  There always has to be a lot of that.

  Nobody wants any amount less than “EXTRA-STRENGTH.”

  “EXTRA-STRENGTH” is actually the absolute minimum we will accept at this point.

  You can’t even get “STRENGTH.”

  “STRENGTH” is not available.

  They don’t even make “STRENGTH” anymore.

  Some people are not satisfied with “EXTRA.”

  They want “MAXIMUM.”

  “I want ‘MAXIMUM-STRENGTH.’

  I am in a tremendous amount of pain.

  Give me… the MAXIMUM ALLOWABLE HUMAN DOSAGE.

  Figure out what will kill me and then back it off a little bit.”

  Doctor’s Waiting Room

  There’s that little bit of arrogance in the medical community

  that I think we could all live without.

  Like, when you go to see the doctor, they don’t just let you see the doctor.

  You must first wait in the waiting room.

  There’s no chance of not waiting.

  That’s the name of the room.

  Just the fact that doctors have Waiting Rooms is like saying,

  “All appointments are meaningless.

  My schedule is bogus.”

  You sit there, you pretend you’re reading your little magazine,

  you’re actually looking at the other people…

  (to oneself)