So be careful. Get married.
I went out and found
the perfect woman.
Nineteen years old. Beautiful face.
A virgin. Nobody ever fucked her.
And had an ass like this:
And her legs are like:
Her titties are like:
She was so fine. She's one
of the people that's so fine,
when you see them,
they make you ugly.
You be like, "Goddamn,
who is that motherfucker?"
She was fine.
I went, I cut all my girls off.
I said, "That's it, I'm getting married.
This is it. Gonna be me and her."
I was so happy. And I went out
and I went shopping.
And I was waiting on the line
and I saw the Enquirer magazine
while I was waiting on the line
and I saw Johnny Carson
on the front page.
There was a picture of him like this:
Then I said, "What's up with Johnny?"
I turned to the inside story
and his wife was on the other page
and she was like this:
And over her head it said, "Johnny's
wife wants half Johnny's money."
I turned that shit back to Johnny.
Then I started thinking about it.
Half.
lf you... lf you have $5
and have to give somebody
$2.50, you'd be upset.
Johnny had to have
at least 300 million.
And have to give up $1 50 million?
And they wasn't even married
but ten years.
And $1 50 million? Get...
Give me a fucking break.
What...? What...?
And ladies... Now, here's a woman
right here saying, "Right on."
Baby, that's not fair.
Not no 1 50 million.
I see a lot of you ladies going:
"Get all the money you can, shit.
I'm glad she did get all that money.
"She earned it. She earned it.
That... You damn right.
"She was married to him,
she deserved that money."
Get the fuck out of my face
with that bullshit.
No. Stop it.
No, don't get me wrong.
lf you marry somebody
and neither one of you have anything
and you build 300 million together,
you deserve half.
But Johnny was 300 million in
when they met.
And I'm quite sure she knew.
Johnny says, "Hey, I'm Johnny."
She was like, "I know who you are,
motherfucker."
And they got married, broke up,
shit didn't work out.
And then he had to give her
$1 50 million of his money.
I know a lot of housewives
sitting out there going:
"You can't put a price on what I do."
But, ladies, if you marry a man
with $300 million,
you ain't no regular housewife. You
ain't got to clean the house no more.
You get a maid.
You ain't cleaning shit!
You marry a man with $300 million,
you ain't cooking. You're eating out.
You marry... You know how a lot of
housewives gotta get jobs on the side
to help make ends meet?
He got 300 million, the ends
are meeting like a motherfucker.
What you gonna do, get a job at
a boutique on the weekends and shit?
And say, "Here, Johnny.
I made $ 70, put that with the rest.
"Now we have $300 million and 70.
"Because I want to do my share."
No.
All you have to do, you marry
a man with $300 million,
is fuck your husband.
That's it! That's your job.
Fuck your husband! That's it.
That's... Just fuck your husband.
You fill out a W-2,
they say, "What you do?"
You say, "I fuck my husband."
That's it.
And I've had my share of pussy.
I have yet...
Even if the pussy was great
and sparks shot out
the woman's ass
and cannons blared
and the mountains crumbled
and the seas roared,
no pussy is worth $1 50 million!
No pussy.
I'd like to meet some pussy like that.
Put the shit on layaway.
That shit scared the shit out of me.
Half? I was petrified.
Man, you know what's real scary
is that American women in the '80s
have become very business-conscious.
Y'all the most resourceful
and the most business-smart
women on the planet. Now, in the '80s.
And it would be an asset to us,
as American men,
if you weren't so vindictive.
Because the two don't match.
Then, what's really fucked up,
is y'all the most loving people.
American women
are all off into this romance
and they genuinely
fall in love with you.
Now, love and money do not mix.
The shit don't mix.
Especially if you got
a business-smart woman...
You go up and say, "I never met
anybody like you before."
"I never met anyone like you."
"Why don't we be together."
"Will you marry me?"
"I thought you'd never ask."
"Before we get married, why don't
you sign this prenuptial agreement."
"What do you mean,
a prenuptial agreement?"
"That's a contract that stipulates
if we ever break up,
"you take what you had
and I take what I had."
"First of all, I don't give a fuck who
you are and what you have, OK?
"You got a lot of motherfucking nerve
by asking me to sign a contract.
"There's nothing a man can do
for me that I can't do for myself.
"You got a whole lot of...
I love you.
"Telling me to sign a contract
to show that I love you?
"lf I need something, I can go to my
family. My family takes care of me."
And men hear all that shit
and we be like this, "OK.
"We don't need no contract."
And you don't get a contract
and get married without one
and the shit don't work out
and you break up a year later.
She's sitting around
in the kitchen by herself, mad,
trying to figure out a way
to get even with your ass.
"I can't believe that motherfucker
did this to me!
"After all the shit I did...
"All the things I did for that
motherfucker, he do this to me?
"Him and his fat bitch
can kiss my ass!
"I don't give a shit about
either one of them.
"I don't want shit from him or her
and I don't care.
"You know something? You know
what I should...? You know...?
"Half!
"I'll take half his shit!"
And they'll get it.
They'll get half your money,
your house, your car, alimony,
child support and your children.
You will be on the cover
of the Enquirer like this:
So be careful!
I started having nightmares.
I was waking up in the middle
of the night like this: "Half!"