Tells it like it is … Says what we’re all thinking … Won’t apologize for telling it like it is and saying what we’re all thinking. So goes the theory that brought America its new president. But this is Vegas’ new comedian-in-residence.
“I’m a filthy, dirty animal that’s gonna rock this place!” says—make that exults—rotund, Dixie-bred Ralphie May, punctuating nearly every exclamation with a high-pitched giggle or a booming guffaw as he anticipates his new Harrah’s showcase of a whopping 60 performances in 2017. “I don’t want family-friendly. I’m talking women with social coke habits. I like old-school Vegas, where you could (fill in the un-G-rated blank here) a cocktail waitress. Now everybody is like, ‘Assault! Assault!’ Hey, if it’s good enough for the president, it’s good enough for me!”
Speaking of which … in the era of a blunt, verbally unpredictable new leader, May—who, it should be noted, has conducted his no-holds-barred act since the first George W. Bush term when he emerged nationally on Last Comic Standing—could be catching the wave of the unfiltered, say-anything zeitgeist of the new Republican West-Winger (even though he’s a Democrat).
“I’ve been correct—not politically correct, just correct—my whole life,” says May, who takes dead aim at what he considers societal hypocrisy. “People who are easily upset only care if it matters to them. Everybody is fine with Asian jokes except the Asians. It’s the same guy who was laughing at the fatty jokes and the women jokes and the black jokes. I never heard one Mexican stand up and say, ‘Hey, stop saying that about black folks.’ That’s why ya gotta give it to everybody. It would be rude not to. If people do something dumb, take your lumps. I don’t like calling everyone a blank-American. If you’re here, you’re an American. Now, what else are ya? You’re a Mexican? Good for you, knock yourself out. Black? Who cares? I’m tired of all this boo-hooing.”
Like Donald J. Trump, May’s no stranger to tossing a lit match into the flammable public discourse and watching it explode. There was the Native-American tumult, in which May’s “Indian” routine, surfacing on YouTube, ignited a Twitter conflagration. (Note: He’s raised money for Native-American causes). There’s the one about seeing movies in a black neighborhood. And the one about his “retarded” childhood pal who called himself that because he detested the “Down syndrome” label.
Targeting all people is born of being “of the people,” says May, who noted he was recently in Fargo, N.D. (temp: minus 28 degrees), the only professional performer to venture there for months. “You gotta empathize with people and go where they go,” he says. “There are so many people who are flyover and I like those people. The uppity elites from New York and L.A., they can go see somebody else. I always say, ‘Hello, friends.’ You don’t have strangers, just friends you haven’t met yet.”
Take this advice to get you through a night with ol’ Ralphie boy: “Get over yourself. Let’s drop all the drama and pass the bourbon.”
Did we mention the title of May’s new Vegas residency? It’s called No Apologies. We think he means it.
Harrah’s, 10 p.m. Jan. 26-28, starting at $35 plus tax and fee. 702.777.2782
