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Tag: Jerry Seinfeld quotes

The Best Comedy Routines of Comedian Jerry Seinfeld

 

 

Here are some of Jerry Seinfeld’s funniest routines:

 

 

I once had a leather jacket that got ruined in the rain. Now why does moisture ruin leather? Aren’t cows outside a lot of the time?
When it’s raining, do cows go up to the farmhouse, “Let us in! We’re all wearing leather! Open the door! We’re going to ruin the whole outfit here!”

“Is it suede?”

“I am suede! The whole thing is suede! I can’t have this cleaned…It’s all I got!”

I am so tired of having to come up with another little outfit for myself everyday. In fact, I will say this—and I think many people agree with me—I think eventually fashion won’t even exist. I think someday we’ll all wear the same thing. Because anytime I see a movie or a TV show where there are people from the future or another planet, they’re all wearing the same outfit. Somehow they all decided, “All right, that’s enough. From now on, this is going to be our outfit. One-piece silver jump suit, with a V-stripe on the chest, and boots. That’s it. We’re going to start visiting other planets and we want to look like a team.”

Have you ever called someone up and you’re disappointed when they answer the phone? You wanted the machine. And you’re always kind of thrown off. You go, “Oh, I uh, I, didn’t know you were there, I just wanted to leave a message saying, ‘Sorry I missed you’.”
So because of the phone machine, what you can have is two people that don’t really ever want to talk, and the phone machine is like this relationship respirator keeping these marginal, brain-dead relationships alive. Why do we do this? Because when we come home we want to see that little flashing red light and go, “All right, messages.” People need that. It’s very important for human beings to feel they are popular and well-liked amongst a large group people that they have no interest in.

I hate the waiting room because it’s called the waiting room so there’s no chance of not waiting. It’s built, deigned, and intended for waiting. Why would they take you right away when they’ve got this room all set up? And you sit there with your little magazine. You pretend you’re reading it but you’re really looking at the other people. “I wonder what he’s got.” Then the finally call you, and you think you’re going to see the doctor, but you’re not. You’re going into the next smaller room waiting room. Now you don’t even have your magazine. You’ve got no pants on. You’re looking at colon-cancer brochures, peeking out the blinds.
But medically speaking, it’s always good to be in a small room. You don’t want to be in a large room. Have you ever seen these operating theaters that they have with stadium seating? You don’t want them doing anything to you that makes other doctors go, “Well, I have to see this. Are you kidding? Are they really going to do that? Are there seats? Can we get in?”
I wonder if they ever have scalp tickets to an operation? “I got two for the Winslow tumor, who needs two?”

Dating is pressure and tension. What is a date really, but a job interview that lasts all night? The only difference between a date and a job is that in not many job interviews is there a chance you’ll wind up naked at the end of it.
“Well Bill, the boss thinks you’re the man for the position. Why don’t you strip down and meet some of the people you’ll be working with?”

One of the most popular procedures today is the nose job. The technical term for the nose job is rhinoplasty. Rhino? I mean, do we really need to insult the person at this particular moment of their life? They know they have a big nose, that’s why they’re coming in. Do they really need the abuse of being compared to a rhinoceros on top of everything else?
When someone goes in for a hair transplant, they don’t say, “We’re going to perform a cueball-ectomy on you, Mr. Johnson. We’re going to attempt to remove the skin-headia of your chrome-domus…these are the technical terms, of course.”

Can someone please tell me what is the deal with B.O.? Everything in nature has a function, a purpose, except B.O. It doesn’t make any sense. Do something good—hard work, exercise—smell very bad. That is the way the human being is designed. You move, you stink. Why don’t our bodies help us? Why can’t sweat smell good? Be a different world, wouldn’t it? Instead of putting your laundry in the hamper, you’d put it in a vase. Go down to the drugstore, pick up some odorant and perspirant. You’d have a dirt sweat sock hanging from the rearview mirror of your car. And then on a really special night, maybe a little underwear coming out of your breast pocket, just to show her that she’s important.

Let’s get one thing straight about dry cleaning right now. It doesn’t exist. There’s no such thing as dry cleaning. There’s no way of cleaning with dry. Dry itself is nothing. You can’t use it. You can’t do anything with it. It’s not there. Dry is nothing. Are you listening to me? And we walk into these places with the big signs out front, “Dry Cleaning,” and somehow never question how they were able to put this absurd concept over on us.
If I gave you a filthy shirt and said, “I want this immaculate. And no liquids!” what are you going to do? Shake it? Tap it? Blow on it? Give me a break. You almost can’t get something dirty with dry, let alone cleaning it.

And why does the pharmacist have to be two and a half feet up above everybody else? Who the hell is he? He’s a stock boy with pills as far as I can tell. Why can’t he be down there on the floor with you and me? Brain surgeons, airplane pilots, nuclear physicists, we’re all on the same level. But not him. He’s gotta be two and a half feet up. “Look out, everybody, I’m working with pills up here. Spread out, gimme some room. I’m taking them from this big bottle and I’m putting them in this little bottle.”
The only hard part of his whole job that I can see is typing everything onto that little, tiny label. He has to get a lot of words on there plus keep that small paper in the roller of the type writer. That impresses me. But putting pills in a bottle with a white jacket on, I don’t know why you need a diploma for that.

I was audited last year. I have been through an audit.
Even though I.R.S. kind of sounds like Toys R’ Us, they’re not fun people. There’s things they could do to liven up the audit. I think they should take all your receipts and put them in one of those big, lucite sweepstakes drums, and just crank it around—you know, give you a feeling like you might win something. Then they can pull ’em out one by one and go, “Oh, I’m sorry. That’s another illegal deduction. But we do have some nice lovely parting gifts for you… Jail.”

 

 

Page Topic: Funny Jerry Seinfeld Routines

 

 

The Best of Jerry Seinfeld Stand Up Comedy

 

 

Here are some of Jerry Seinfeld’s funny comedy stand ups:

 

 

I will never understand why they cook on TV.
I can’t smell it. Can’t eat it. Can’t taste it.
The end of the show they hold it up to the camera, “Well, here it is. You can’t have any. Thanks for watching. Goodbye.”

Whenever you ask for a doggie bag at a restaurant, there’s a certain sense of failure there, isn’t there? People always whisper it to the waiter, “Uh, excuse me. Can I get the doggie bag? I, uh, I-I couldn’t make it” It’s embarrassing, because the doggie bag means either you’re out on a restaurant when you’re not hungry, or you’ve chosen the stupidest possible way there is to get dog food.
How about the doggie bag on a date? There’s a good move. Let me tell you, if you’re a guy and you ask for the doggie bag on a date, you might as well just have them wrap up your genitals too. You’re not going to be needing them for a while, either.

The problem with the mall garage is that everything looks the same. They try to differentiate between levels. They put up different colors, different numbers, different letters. What they need to do is name the levels like, “Your mother’s a whore.” You would remember that. Your would go, “No, we’re not. We’re in ‘My father’s an abusive alcoholic’.”

On my block, a lot of people walk their dogs and I always see them walking along with their little poop bags. This, to me, is the lowest activity in human life. Following a dog with a little pooper scooper. Waiting for him to go so you can walk down the street with it in your bag. If aliens are watching this through telescopes, they’re going to think the dogs are the leaders of the planet. If you see two life forms, one of them is making a poop, the other one’s carrying it for him, who would you assume is in charge?

As a kid, the only thing I really cared about was candy. Candy is the only reason you want to live when you’re a kid. Ages zero through ten, candy is your life, there’s nothing else. Family, friends, school…they’re only obstacles in the way of getting more candy. And you have your favorite candies that you love. Kids actually believe that they can distinguish between 21 different versions of pure sugar.

Only a seven-year-old can actually taste the difference. When I was a kid, I could taste the difference between different color M&Ms. I thought they were different. For example, I thought the red was heartier, more of a main course M&M. And the light brown was a mellower, kind of after-dinner M.

When I was a kid, my favorite ride was the bumber cars. What a wonderful fantasy of the driving experience as it could be. All confrontation, no destination. That’s what bumper cars are. Driving as an act of pure hostility. But there was always one kid on the bumper cars that couldn’t do it. As soon as the ride started, he’d be stuck in a pack of empty cars, usually ending up with the attendant hanging off that big pole, helping him steer.

I was on a plane the other day, and I was wondering, “Are there keys to the plane? Do they need keys to start the plane?”
Maybe that’s what those delays on the ground are sometimes, when you’re just sitting there at the gate. Maybe the pilot sits up there in the cockpit going, “Oh I don’t believe this…damn it…I did it again.” They tell you it’s something mechanical, because they don’t want to come on the P.A. system, “Ladies and gentleman, we’re going to be delayed here on the ground for a while. I uh…Oh, God, this is so embarrassing…I, I left the keys to the plane in my apartment. They’re in this big blue ashtray by the front door. I’m really sorry. I’ll run back and get them.”
You see the technicians all running around underneath the plane. You think they’re servicing it, but they’re actually looking for one of those magnet Hide-A-Keys under the wing.

You know, why we’re here? To be out, this is out…and out is one of the single most enjoyable experiences of life. People…did you ever hear people talking about “We should go out”? This is what they’re talking about…this whole thing, we’re all out now, no one is home. Not one person here is home, we’re all out! There are people trying to find us, they don’t know where we are. “Did you ring?, I can’t find him.” “Where did he go?” “He didn’t tell me where he was going”. He must have gone out. You wanna go out: you get ready, you pick out the clothes, right? You take the shower, you get all ready, get the cash, get your friends, the car, the spot, the reservation…There you’re staring around, what do you do? You go: “We gotta be getting back”. Once you’re out, you wanna get back! You wanna go to sleep, you wanna get up, you wanna go out again tomorrow, right? Where ever you are in life, it’s my feeling, you’ve gotta go.

I swear, I have absolutely no idea what women are thinking. I don’t get it, OK? I, I, I admit, I, I’m not getting the signals. I am not getting it! Women, they’re so subtle, their little.. everything they do is subtle.. men are not subtle, we are obvious. Women know what men want, men know what men want, what do we want? We want women, that’s it! It’s the only thing we know for sure, it really is: we want women. How do we get them? Oh, we don’t know ’bout that, we don’t know. The next step after that we have no idea. This is why you see men honking car-horns, yelling from construction sites. These are the best ideas we’ve had so far.. The car-horn-honk, is that a beauty? Have you seen men doing this? What is this? The man is in the car, the woman walks by the front of the car, he honks. This man is out of ideas. The amazing thing is, that we still get women, don’t we. Men, I mean, men are with women. You see men with women. How are men getting women, many people wonder. Let me tell you a little bit about our organization. Where ever women are, we have a man working on the situation right now. Now, he may not be our best man, OK, we have a lot of areas to cover, but someone from our staff is on the scene. That’s why, I think, men get frustrated, when we see women reading articles, like: “Where to meet men?”. We’re here, we are everywhere. We’re honking our horns to serve you better.

You know I think that even if you’ve had a relationship with someone or let’s say, especially if you’ve had a relationship with someone and you try to become friends afterwards, it’s very difficult. It’s hard. Because, you know each other so well, you know all of each others tricks. It’s like two magicians, trying to entertain each other. The one goes, “Look, a rabbit.” The other goes, “So? I believe this is your card.” “Look, why don’t we just saw each other in half and call it a night?, Okay?”

So I move into the center lane, now I get ahead of this women, who felt for some reason I guess, that she thought that I cut her off. So, she pulls up along side of me, gives me.. the finger. It seems like such an.. arbitrary, ridiculous thing to just pick a finger and you show it to the person. It’s a finger. What does it mean? Someone shows me one of their fingers and I’m supposed to feel bad. Is that the way it’s supposed to work? I mean, you could just give someone the toe, really. Couldn’t you? I would feel worse if I got the toe, than if I got the finger. ‘Cause it’s not easy to give someone the toe. You’ve gotta get the shoe off, the sock of and drive, get it up and, uh, pretends to drive with a foot out the window, and speaks to person driving next to him: “Look at that toe, buddy.” (puts his foot down) I mean, that’s really insulting to get the toe, isn’t it?

I’ve been watching women in the department stores. They’re trying on clothes, and I’ve noticed that they do it differently from men. Women don’t try on the clothes, they get behind the clothes, you see? They take a dress off the rack, and they hold it up against themselves. They can tell something from this. They stick one leg way out ’cause they need to know, “If some day I’m one-legged, and at a forty-five degree angle, what am I gonna wear?” You never see a man do that. You never see a guy take a suit off the rack, put his head in the neck, and go, “What do you think about this suit? I think I’ll get it. Yeah, it looks fine. Put some shoes by the bottom of the pants, I wanna make sure. Yeah, perfect. And what if I’m walking? Move the shoes, move the shoes, move the shoes, move the shoes.”

Why is commitment such a big problem for a man? I think that, for some reason, when a man is driving down that freeway of love, the woman he’s involved with is like an exit. But he doesn’t want to get out, he wants to keep driving. And the woman is like, “Look, gas, food, lodging, that’s our exit, that’s everything we need to be happy, get out, here, now!” But the man is focusing on the sign underneath. It says, “Next exit, twenty-seven miles.” And he thinks, “I can make it!”

What’s with the age gap hiring policy at most movie theaters? Did you ever notice, they never hire anyone between the ages of fifteen…and eighty, you know what I mean? Like, the girl that sells you the ticket, she’s ten. Then there’s the guy who rips the ticket, he’s a hundred and two. So, what happened in the middle, there? You couldn’t find anybody? It’s like they want to show you how life comes full circle. You’re fifteen, you sell the tickets. Then you leave, you go out, you have a family, kids, marriage, career, grandchildren, eighty years later, you’re back in the same theater three feet away. Ripping tickets. Took you eighty years to move three feet.

I always get confused in the movie theater by the, by the plot. It’s embarrassing. It’s an embarrassment to have to admit, but I’m the one that you see in the parking lot after the movie talking with his friends, going: “Oh, you mean that was the same guy from the beginning…Ohhhhhhhhhh…” Nobody will explain it to you. When you’re in the theater, you can’t find out. “Why did they kill that guy?… Why did they kill him?… Who was that guy? What was the…I thought he was with them? Wasn’t he with them? Why would they kill him if he was with them? Oh, he wasn’t really with them….I thought he was with them. It’s a good thing they killed him.”

I don’t know about you, but I’m getting sick of pretending to be excited every time it’s somebody’s birthday, you know what I mean? What is the big deal? How many times do we have to celebrate that someone was born? Every year, over and over…All you did was not die for twelve months. That’s all you’ve done, as far as I can tell. Now those astrology things where they tell you all the people that have the same birthday as you? It’s always an odd group of people too, isn’t it? It’s like Ed Asner, Elijah Muhammed and Secretariat.

I am not gay. I am, however, thin, single and neat. Sometimes when someone is thin, single and neat people assume they are gay because that is a stereotype. They normally don’t think of gay people as fat, sloppy and married. Although I’m sure there are, I don’t want to perpetuate the stereotype. I’m sure they are the minority though within the gay community. They’re probably discriminated against because of that, people say to them “You know Joe, I enjoy being gay with you but I think it’s about time, you know, that you got in shape, tucked the shirt in and lost the wife”. But if people are even going to assume that people that are neat are gay, maybe instead of doing this: “You know I think Joe might be a little…(waves hand back and forth)”, they should vacuum: “You know I think Joe might be vvvvvvvmmm. Yeah, I got a feeling he’s a little vvvvvvvmmmm.

You can’t just have an adultery– you commit adultery. And you can’t even commit adultery unless you already have a commitment. So you have to make the commitment before you can even think about committing it. There’s no commit without the commit. Then, once you commit, then you can commit the adultery and then you get caught, get divorced, lose your mind and they have you committed. But you know some people actually cheat on the people that they’re cheating with. Which is like, you know, being in a hold up and then turning to the robber next to you and going “Alright, gimme everything you have, too”.

 

 

Page Topic: Best of Jerry Seinfeld