Jerry Seinfeld and Eddie Murphy Talk Shit About San Francisco – By GPT-3

This is a follow up to my post GPT-3: An AI that’s eerily good at writing almost anything.

This is my first attempt at using GPT-3 to write standup comedy. I only wrote the bolded prompt, and the AI generated the rest a sentence or two at a time without my adding a single word. I did curate what I thought were the funniest answers, but unlike getting it to write Dr. Seuss poems about Elon Musk, almost all the answers were funny and coherent – it had me laughing out loud for hours.

Notice I didn’t even mention San Francisco’s poop problem in the very short prompt I gave it, but once Jerry got going it became a self reinforcing cycle. Plus, I expect there’s a lot of articles on the internet about San Francisco and poop.

Here’s the transcript of a stand up comedy routine by Jerry Seinfeld and Eddie Murphy about the problems San Francisco faces with soaring rents, crime, and homelessness.

Jerry: I was in San Francisco last week, and it looks like a homeless encampment. It looks like the last days of Rome. People shitting in the street, stabbing each other. I don’t know what’s going on out there.

Eddie: What do you mean, stabbing each other?

Jerry: Well, you walk down the street, and you get stabbed.

Eddie: Well, I don’t think it’s that bad.

Jerry: No, it’s pretty bad. It’s pretty bad.

Eddie: Maybe you were just there on a bad day.

Jerry: No, it was all bad days.

Eddie: It can’t be that bad.

Jerry: It’s that bad.

Eddie: What about the cable cars, the Chinese New Year parade?

Jerry: It’s still an open sewer. A river of shit.

Eddie: The Fisherman’s Wharf.

Jerry: A pile of shit.

Eddie: North Beach.

Jerry: Pile of shit.

Eddie: Nob Hill.

Jerry: You can’t even see the piles from the hills.

Eddie: Fisherman’s Wharf.

Jerry: A river of shit running through a pile of shit.

Eddie: The Golden Gate Bridge.

Jerry: Golden shit.

Eddie: The cable cars.

Jerry: Shit hanging off the wires.

Eddie: What about the Bay Bridge?

Jerry: Shit floating on shit.

Eddie: You sure you weren’t at Disneyland?

Jerry: It’s that bad.

Eddie: The Presidio.

Jerry: What is that, shit?

Eddie: No, it’s a former military base. It’s quite lovely.

Jerry: Is there shit?

Eddie: A little shit, but that’s a forest. Shit happens. That’s life.

Jerry: That’s the whole city, man. Shit on top of shit on top of shit.

Eddie: You’re crazy.

Jerry: It’s all crazy. San Francisco is insane. The whole place is going to shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. It’s a city of shit.

Eddie: You’re a shit.

Jerry: I’m telling you. It’s not just me. I’m not crazy. This is a proven fact. San Francisco is a pile of shit. You can go there and see it for yourself. Go to the Wharf and take a look at the pile of shit floating under the shit bridge, then make your way over to the piles of shit on top of the shit hill, then walk into the piles of shit in North Shit. And what is Nob Shit? Nob Shit is better than no shit, so that’s something.

Eddie: I don’t know what that means.

Jerry: That’s San Francisco. You can’t take a step without stepping in shit. It’s a pile of shit from every possible direction.

Eddie: You should really just relax, man. You’re working yourself up.

Jerry: There’s nothing to relax about. It’s all shit. And it’s not just a city of shit; it’s a river of shit, cascading down through the city in every direction. I mean, here you are talking to me, and I’m sitting in this bar stool filled with shit. Don’t even know what kind of shit it is, but it’s there. Shit flows freely in San Francisco. There’s no real toilet paper, only shit paper. I mean, where are you going to go in this shit city? Where’s your next shit going to come from?

Eddie: Stop it.

Jerry: No, man. We’re fucked. This is the end of the line. It’s the last days of Rome. It’s the end of San Francisco. I can feel it in my bones.

Eddie: It’s not that bad. We’ll find a place. We’ll figure it out.

Jerry: What are you talking about? I’m telling you it’s going down, man. It’s all going down. And where does that leave us, man? When that shitsplosion hits, where does that leave us?

Eddie: I don’t know.

Jerry: We’re going down with it. We’re going down.

Eddie: Can I get you another drink?

Jerry: Yeah, sure. Here’s the thing: I like San Francisco. I do. You know, it’s a great place, man. People are cool, and the weather’s nice. The coast is beautiful. I don’t want to see it all go down the shit hole. I really don’t. So I say we get off our asses and do something about it before it’s too late. If we’re all in this together, then let’s do something together. What’s it going to be, Eddie? What are we going to do about it?

Eddie: I don’t know, Jerry.

Jerry: It’s a pile of shit. What else is there to say?

Eddie: Okay, I got it. Let’s just relax, calm down. What’s the big deal? It’s not like the whole place is going to be wiped off the map or anything.

Jerry: No? What if I told you that there’s a giant turd somewhere in the city that’s been defying the law of gravity for decades. Where are you going to live? Where are you going to live if that turd suddenly decides to crash down on us? It’s a shit disaster waiting to happen, man. You watch. We’re all just a bunch of piles of shit covered in shit dust.

Eddie: Now you’re scaring me.

Jerry: No, it’s not me. It’s the shit talking. San Francisco is drowning in its own filth. The whole city is slowly sinking into a gigantic pile of shit as we speak. And we’re going down with it. Unless we act now!

Eddie: Okay, I don’t know what to say. Let’s get out of here. I feel like I need some air.

Jerry: There’s no air! It’s all shit air. Everything is shit! We’re doomed!

Eddie: You’re hopeless. I can’t talk to you.

Jerry: We’re all doomed! Doomed! Doomed!

Eddie: That’s it, I’m leaving. We’re done here.

Jerry: I’m telling you, this is a pile of shit. A pile of shit!

Eddie: Goodbye, man. Have a nice day.

(Eddie walks out of the bar.)

Jerry: Don’t you walk away from me! You can’t just walk away from me! Where do you think you’re going?! It’s a pile of shit! Don’t you leave me alone with this shit! Stay here! Don’t leave me! What do you mean, you won’t leave me? I’m telling you, it’s all going down. We’re all going down. Doomed, man. Doomed! (Jerry sits down in the bar stool. A few moments pass, then the stool crumbles beneath him and he falls into the pile of shit.)