"Tom Brady picks me up in a nice car. He says, ‘Get in,’ and I do, and we drive fast. We are listening to some dogs–t on the radio that he likes. Even in my fantasy, I can’t imagine he likes good music. I turn it down and say, ‘Hey, what happened, where is your supermodel wife, I thought we were all spending the day together?’ and he pulls over and takes my hand and looks in my eyes and says: ‘I didn’t invite her because I wanted to be alone with you. Yes, she is beautiful and the mother of my children, but you are smart and funny and I’ve been waiting to have sex with someone with a real body, a real a–, who has lots of bad angles depending on the lighting, and I want to be with you and not that supermodel who does yoga on the beach a lot.’ I sit silently for a few seconds. Then I get out of the car and apologize for what I have just done to the seat and I run down the highway screaming, ‘I knew it!’ "
"I ask him who he is. He tells me — I think it’s basketball. He asks who I am. I tell him, Chelsea Handler. Then we spoon and watch ‘The Land Before Time.’ Why that? How about it’s none of your business what we do!!!"