What I actually said was...

Here's what actually came out: (couldn't get the mic stand up to my face so I had to take the microphone off. I had a cigarette, a sheet of paper, a lighter and the mic in my hands at one point. After recalibrating and putting stuff down on the stage...) I wanted to come up here last week, but before I could I already had 17 Beam and Cokes coarsing through my system and wound up losing my shirt to a homeless guy playing pool. While I was taking off my shirt some guy says, "I'll trade you some mints for a cigarette." After 17 beam cokes I say "suuurrrrreeee" (in slow motion) Now I don't know if it was the alcohol or the Beam or the alcohol or the Beam. But I watched my hand reach in slow motion toward the tin. As I started putting into my mouth my brain (stutter) looked up (stammer) from its card game and said "what the fuck is he doing. Oh don't tell me he's taking candy from strangers. This is bullshit! What did you think I sat through all those McGruff and Patch the pony films in school. For fun? Well I wasn't laughin. That's it 420 is off for you (note: I performed on 4/20 and was told as I was going up that I had to incorporate a 4/20 joke into my routine). Immediately after putting this into my mouth, my body processed the alcohol in a matter of moments by expelling every ounce of it through the pores in my body. They shot out of me like a paisley shirt and I made a B-line to the door to get to my car in the Fred Meyer parking lot across the street. Once I got to my car, I sat there to ensure I was completely sober. I recalled the Pennsylvania drivers’ manual and went through it step by step: I'm just fasten the seat belt: good. Check the rearview and side mirrors, headlights: on, windshield wipers working: check, turn signals: left and right. Alright, we're just going to turn on Burnside. I was immediately killed. So, I was in heaven waiting to talk to god. And I said, "give me another chance. I didn't get a chance to go onstage this week, I'm just asking for another chance." He said, "Alright, this will be like one of those 'Heaven Can Wait deals, where you have to do me a favor." He said, "I need you to be a prophet, my instrument to deliver series of predictions to tell the people." That's what I'm ultimately here to do tonight. This is for you guys: (I pull this out of my pocket http://www.creativekidsathome.com/activities/activity_34.html and and it takes me forever to get my four fingers into the thing. I begin to ask for numbers and colors from the audience. I only did one.) “In the year 2120 there still will not be a pill on the market to make vagina's smaller.” (I asked for numbers and colors again. The same person yelled out...the only person who was paying attention. When I opened the paper it was the longest prediction which made no sense unless you go through all 10. So I said:) Y'know what, I think I'm going to end it right about now. Thanks