Jo Koy: Comin' in Hot (2019) - full transcript

Hawaii.

Are you ready?

Ladies and gentlemen,

give it up for Jo Koy!

♪ Five, four, three, two, I let one go ♪

♪ Bow, get the fuck though
I don't bluff, bro ♪

♪ Aimin' at your head like a buffalo ♪

♪ You a roughneck, I'm a cutthroat ♪

♪ You're a tough guy
That's enough jokes ♪

♪ Then the sun die
The night is young though ♪

♪ The diamonds still shine ♪



That's what I'm talking about.

Yes!

Had to bring it to Hawaii, baby.

Aloha is real.

If you're in a bad mood, just,
shoot them with some Aloha.

You guys are like Care Bears,
it just comes out of your chests.

"Someone having a bad day?"

Oh, shit.

People in Hawaii brag about shit
that no one else brags about.

That's real!

'Cause you cher...
you cherish the things that you have.

It's yours.
I love this, it's mine, brother.

I had a guy walk up to me,

he was like, "Hey, brother, you see my...
you see my brand new



2003 Toyota Tacoma?

Cherry, bro.

Fucking cherry!

Lifted, bro. Lifted.

Lifted, 2003!

Brand new, 2003.

Toyota Tacoma."

You don't care, you're laid back.

You live in paradise.

You don't have time... You're not uptight.

You go out, "Good, we go out."

Dress nice. "Okay, dress nice."

Nice outfit, "Where's my slipper?

Where's my slipper?"

You guys will wear a slipper.

"Slipper!"

Always, "Slipper."

"Slipper." Fucking brand new outfit,

"Slipper."

No one outside of Hawaii
knows what "slipper"...

I'll tell you what "slipper" is.
It's fucking, look...

Look, "Slipper."

"Slipper, slipper,

slipper.

Slipper, slipper, slipper, slipper."

I don't even know why you wear it.
They're barely on your fucking foot.

That's how you guys walk.

"Slipper" at the front of your foot.
You're not even...

It's not even on your foot.
You just, kick the slipper, step.

Kick, step,

kick slipper, step,
kick slipper, step, kick...

You love the vowels. You guys love vowels.

You don't care. A, the letter A.

How many A's can you put
in one street name?

How many A's? That's too many A's.

That's why if anyone comes to Hawaii,
I'm talking to the world right now,

if you come to Hawaii,
don't ask for directions.

All the streets sound the same.

Ask for directions, they'll be like,

"Oh, that's easy, brother.
This how you get there.

You just go down Kaleakalakaka.

Make a right turn on Laukaladakalakau.

Left turn on Naukauaakala.

And then a right turn on Ahaahahaha'aaa.

Love everything about Hawaii.

Can't get enough of it.

I don't even listen to the music
and I love it.

When I'm here,
I can't stop listening to it.

Don't know any of the words. I don't care.

I drive and I sing...

You're clapping. I just made that song up.

You guys don't even know
what the fuck I'm saying.

All I did was the vowels...

That hula is this shit!

Hula is everything.

That is the sexiest dance ever.

All that shit they're doing now,
all the sexy dances they're doing,

they stole it from the hula.

Hula... that shit is sexy.

She talks to the man through dance.

That is sexy.

She tells him what she wants
through dance.

"You come see me...

when the sun go down.

You take me to dinner.

If I like you...

I give you pussy."

Everybody, look at this.
Every culture. Every race.

Every ethnicity is in here,

hanging out, laughing.

"Good time." They don't care,
"Good time, bro." They don't give a shit.

And we look... I look out into the crowd,
you can't tell us apart. You can't!

You know how many Mexicans my mom
walks up to and goes, "Filipino?"

"Mexican!"

"Sorry, sorry!

Sorry, sorry."

There's a way you can tell Asians apart
from other Asians.

It's by their accent,
and only if they have accents.

Out of all the Asians,
Koreans are the easiest,

'cause when a Korean person talks,

they sound like they've been
smoking weed all day.

Like right before they talk to you...

Koreans sound like Asian ghosts.

My best friend growing up was Korean.

I remember the first time
I went to his house,

his dad yelled from upstairs.

I thought the fucking house was haunted.

Swear to God, right when I walked in...

I was like, "What the fuck was that?"

"Ah, it's my dad. He just wants to know
if you're hungry."

You can do that with any Asian.

Vietnamese.

What? I haven't even done anything yet.

Vietnamese, I love Vietnamese people.

You're my... I love you.

You're the smallest of the Asians.

You're smaller,

but I will tell you this,

don't fuck with Vietnamese people.

They will fight anybody.

Those little fuckers will fight any...
They don't give a shit.

I don't care how strong you are,
they will fight you.

They will run up to you and say shit.

That's their little feet.

I had one run up to me
at the end of the show.

"Hey dude,
what you say to me like that, dude?"

They talk...

They talk...

They talk real fast...
You know they talk that fast.

They talk like this, real fast, like,

"Dude, what you say to me
like that, dude?"

They talk real fast like that, dude.

Koreans sound like they've been
smoking weed all day.

Vietnamese people sound like they've been
doing cocaine their whole life.

"Hey dude, what you say to me
like that, dude?

Don't you talk to me like that, dude.

What you say to me like that?"

Vietnamese people put a period
after every word that come out.

"Hey. Dude. What. You. Say. To. Me.
Like. That. Dude?"

Vietnamese people go real high.

They go real high, like that, dude.

They go down low, like that.
They start low, like that, dude.

Then they'll go real high
like that, dude.

Vietnamese people sound like
they're in a car far away

and they drive by you real fast
when they're talking to you.

Like, "Hey dude, what you say to me
like that, dude? Don't say that!"

Man, say that shit again, man.
Get out the car and say that shit.

Japanese.

What?

Japanese, only if they have accents
you can tell us apart.

Japanese,

very distinct.

When a Japanese man talks...

it come from diaphragm.

This where Japanese man purr.

Huh!

Hi!

Japanese!

Japanese woman,

doesn't matter if she's 12 years old,

or 75 years old,

they always sound 12 years old.

Let's go!

Okay!

That's why no one watches Japanese porn.

No one watches Japanese porn.

You know how annoying
that shit is to watch?

All right, let's go!

Oh-oh, keep going!

Uh-oh, in my eye!

Ooh!

Ooh!

Ever since my last Netflix special,

I've been getting a lot of Mexicans
coming to my shows.

A lot of Mexicans come to my shows now.

And they always come up to me

and say the same shit
at the end of my show.

They always go, "Hey fucker."

Sorry.

It's so racist. I don't know why.

I don't know why... "Hey fucker." Why...

Why when I impersonate a Mexican guy,
I always gotta sound like...

I always gotta sound like
I'm falling off a cliff.

It's so fucked up.

It's a horrible impersonation,
but that's what they sound like.

They always sound like
they're falling off the cliff.

The longer the sentence,
the further the fall.

Mexicans always come up to me

and say the same thing
at the end of my shows, all the time.

They're like,
"Hey, your mom's just like my mom.

Everything your mom does, my mom does."

What'd I say?

"Everything..."
You look like a cholo, I swear to God.

Its scaring the shit out of me.

I'm trying to do this joke,
but this guy's like,

"Say it right, fucker.

"Say it right, fucker. Don't..."

You know how hard is it to be funny
when a cholo's looking at me like this?

What's your name, bro?

- Jason.
- Jason?

- Are you Filipino or Mexican?
- I'm Filipino.

He's fucking Filipino!

Goddammit.

See what the fuck I'm talking about?

You look like my brother, man.

Jason?

See, this is what I want everyone
to know, man.

There's a reason why
Mexicans and Filipinos look a like.

There's a reason why
Mexicans and Filipinos relate.

It's a lot deeper than Vicks VapoRub.

That's not the only common bond we have.

I don't want you to come up to me
at the end of the show,

"Hey, my mom use Vick's VapoRub too.
That's so crazy."

No, it's not.

There's a reason why.

There's a reason why we relate
on so many other levels.

Spain conquered the Philippines
for over 350 years.

That's real shit.

You guys bred with us.

We're the first hybrid race.

That's what Filipinos are:

Spanish, Asian.

Filipino.

That's what we are.

It's a bad thing what happened,
but it's also a good thing.

We got a lot of their traits,
a lot of their culture.

Know what I'm saying? We look like 'em.

Look at us.
We're two hour flight from Japan.

We are in the heart of Asia,
that's where for the Philippines sits.

But look at us,
we don't even have Asian last names.

Because they left
their fucking names there.

We don't have Asian names,
we have Latino last names.

Look at our fucking last names.

In my family alone,
De La Fuente, Santos, Gonzalez.

We're fucking Mexicans!

We are the Mexicans of Asia.

That's... that's real talk.

Everything Mexicans do, Filipinos do.

Everything!

What do you guys have?
Quinceañera, debut.

We got that from them, right?

We celebrate the daughter
when she turns 15, right?

She's 15? Same shit!

Throw a big ass party.

Mexicans do that shit all the time, right?

"You're 15, you're ready to be a woman,
mija, it's your quinceañera."

"Are you sure Papa? I'm only 15."

"Yes, I'm sure.

Your mother's only 30."

Okay, okay, okay, that was fucked up!

That was fucked up.
But it's funny, come on.

Is it fucked up? It's just a joke!

Fuck! Stop being sensitive.

Go fuck yourselves!

Stereotypes are funny for a reason,
'cause they're true.

We all have stereotypes. Embrace it.
Fuck it. Laugh at it. Who gives a shit?

Not all Filipinos are nurses,
but a lot of you motherfuckers are.

I don't know all these Filipinos in here,
but I know one thing,

we have the same uncle.

Every holiday,
he has to talk to everybody.

And we dread it,
'cause it takes forever to talk to him.

'Cause he doesn't even know
what he wants to say.

He always starts off every conversation
like this, "Ah...

You know, uh...

Josep, ah...

Remember the...

The...

Shit, the..."

Always, "Ah..."

I took...

I took my uncle to the to the mall,
and we were in the food court.

We're just sitting there,
he's just trying to talk.

And he's loud, so everyone's watching.

That's the part
that embarrassed me the most,

'cause he's loud, and everyone's looking,
and he's like, "Ah...

Josep, you remember the...

that, uh...

one time you...

got me...

- the..."
- I'm like, "What? What are trying to say?"

"Hey, I'm trying to tell you. Wait!

Don't rush me, huh.
I'm trying to think and you're rushing...

Don't rush me, huh!

The... that one time you got me..."

Everyone's watching.
Everyone in the food court is looking.

"Ah...

that, ah, you got me a drink?

You got me that drink?"

"Yeah, I got you that drink.
What about it?"

"Yeah, and, uh, you come back,
it had that, uh...

that big straw?

Remember, it has that big straw.

I look at it, go,
'Putang ina, that's a big straw!'

Remember that, you look at this big straw,
and then you got mad at me?"

- "Yeah, what about it?"
- "Yeah, you told me to just drink it.

Remember? You told me, 'Just drink it.'"

"Yeah, what about it?"

Everyone's watching. Everyone's watching.

"Yes, so I start to drink like that,

and...

I'm... I...

I'm drinking like that
and I start sucking on the straw...

And then, this, uh, black ball
starts shooting in my mouth...

And I'm sucking.

I'm sucking like that, and I'm... I'm...

Black balls are in my mouth

and I'm sucking and choking
on these black balls.

I got mouth full of black balls,
and I'm choking, sucking..."

"Shut the fuck up!

Boba, it's fucking boba!"

"Oh, yeah, boba. I hate that shit."

That's why Filipinos
should only be nurses.

Just be nurses, don't be doctors.

Imagine my uncle a doctor,

during surgery.

"Nurse, can I get the, uh...

the... oh shit.

The... you know, that, uh...

you know, to cut the...

to cut, uh...

you know, the..."

The nurse is like, "Putang ina, what?
They all cut, what?

What do you need, doctor?"

"The... the shit... the...

the..."

"He's dying, what the fuck do you need?
What? What?

Say it."

"The shit... the...

the..."

We are a stereotype.

Filipinos morph into a fucking stereotype.

I don't know what it is,
they just morph into a goddamn stereotype.

I talked about that on my last special,
but look, look around you. They're here.

See, my mom's not here tonight,
but I look out, and fuck, there she is!

Short hair, glasses.

Purse on the lap.

Look, right there, there she is.

There she is.

Handkerchief, handkerchief.

Louis Vuitton purse.

Confused, "Where are we?

Where... where are we? What is this?"

I love us.

They got to have that Louis Vuitton purse.
That's their purse.

You know how many Louis Vuitton purses
I bought my mom? So many.

You know what she puts in it? Snacks.

It's the most expensive lunch box
you'll ever see.

And they're not even good snacks.

All my friends, when I was a kid, man,
they would go to the mom,

"Mom, can I get a snack?"

And she'd pull out delicious snacks
out of her purse.

Doritos.

Fun Size Snickers.

I run up to my mom...

Shit!

Her snacks were something she took
from a restaurant.

Run up to my mom,
"Mom, can I get a snack?"

"Oh, here's some oyster crackers."

Oyster crackers are made to absorb soup.

And she wants me to eat this
before I go to class.

"Put that in your stomach."

I'd put it in my...

"Swallow it!"

That's my mom's hustle.

That's any mom's hustle, I swear to God.

And here's the thing, man,
it doesn't matter how much they make,

It doesn't matter.
They will get free shit.

"If it's there, get it."

My mom said that to me all the time,
"Get it.

Go back in there and get it."

"Get what?"

"Just what... that... whatever that is.

Just get more, grab more.

Put it in the purse.
Put it in the purse. Go!

Get it, get extra."

She always said that, "Get extra.

Joseph, go back in there and get extra.

Get extra."

You know what "get extra" means? Steal!

Steal!

She wants her kid to fucking steal.

"Get extra."

I used to hate going to McDonald's.

'Cause she'd always make me go back in,
"Go back in there and get extra napkins."

"Why?"

"Because we need extra
for the... the house.

Get extra, Joe. Go, go back in there."

"God, how many do you need?"

"Well, your birthday is coming up.
Go back in there."

"Fuck!"

Stuffing my pocket with napkins.

I'm so mad, I'm looking at my mom.

She's out in the parking lot.

I'm crying.

She doesn't care.

"The other pocket! Fill it!"

My son has no idea how that feels.

He doesn't know.

I buy napkins.

I buy expensive napkins,
because I'm traumatized.

Stealing napkins my whole life.

I don't want my son
to go through that shit.

My son doesn't know
how embarrassing birthdays are.

My birthday sucked.

My mom was handing out slices of cake
to all the kids,

then she hand out napkins.

None of them match.

"KFC, McDonald's, Taco Bell,

Burger King, KFC,

Cheesecake Factory, ooh that's a good one.

That's... that's a lot thicker
than the other."

These kids got a good though.

Fifteen-year-old kid.
Man, my son has no idea.

He has no idea how good he's got it.

These fucking millennials, millennials!

Is that what they're called this year?
Millennial? Gen X? Millennial?

Pussies!

Is that what they're called, pussies?
They're pussies. All of them, pussies.

If there's 15-year-olds in here,
you're fucking pussy, all of you.

Fucking pus... Right?

Am I my fucking right? They complain.
You can't... you can't yell at 'em.

They'll... they'll say something.
You'll get in trouble.

They go, "Oh my God, my...
my mom yelled at me,

and I'm so scared to go to the house,

'cause my mom yelled at me."

Man, go fuck yourself. Are you kidding me?

You're scared to go home
'cause you're mom yelled at...

That's all my mom did, was yell at me.

That was the only language
my mom spoke, was yell.

"Ha?

What?

Say it again!

Say it again!

Say it!

What did you say, Joseph?

What did you say? Turn around.

Turn around, Joseph.

That's the only language my mom talked.

Yell! "Ha?

When? When did you do it?

Where? Where did you go?

Ha? What?

Did you lose your lunch box?"

I remember when I lost my lunch box
one time, holy shit!

That's how my mom disciplined.

Through the...
She never, like, physically touched.

She... she verbally attacked you.
That's when she went after you.

She'd break you down in words.

Interrogation.

Two and a half hours of yelling.

"What?

Where...
where's your lunch box, Joseph?

Where did you put it?"

"I... I don't know!"

"What do you mean 'you don't know'?
Where? Where did you go?

You go from house to school.
School to house.

Where the fuck did you lose it?

What? You just take your lunch box,
put it anywhere, 'Oh, I don't know where.

I don't know where anything is.
I don't know where.'

Where's your lunch box, Joseph?

Where?

Where did you put it?"

"I don't... I don't know!"

Then she'll just repeat what I said
in a stupid voice.

"I don't... I don't know!

How do you not know, Joseph? How?"

"I don't know, Mom,
what do you want me to say?"

"Tell me where it is?"

"I don't..."

Two hours of that.

- "Where?"
- "I don't know."

- "Ha?"
- "I don't..."

She wants me... she want me to have snot

coming out of my mouth,
and then breathe it in at the same time.

That's when she's happy.

That's what my mom knows she got me.

I don't know where...

That's when she walks up to me,
"Okay, okay, breathe, Joseph, breathe.

Breathe. My God."

"Breathe, my God, Joseph.
Breathe, breathe. Breathe"

"It's just a lunch box."

Then she's gotta embarrass me.

Then she's got to put my lunch
in a Tupperware container.

That's how she embarrasses me.
She always says,

"I'm going to put your lunch
in a Tupperware container."

And then, I'd cry more, "Why?

I don't want to go to school."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want to go to school
with my lunch in one of your Tupperwares."

'Cause that shit's embarrassing.

If I send my son to school
with the Tupperware container,

he goes to school with a clear bowl,
and it's got a blue lid,

and it says Tupperware on the lid.

My son would be proud
to go to school with that shit.

My mom's Tupperware...

usually an empty Cool Whip container...

Country Crock.

One time, she put it in an empty
Neapolitan ice cream container.

Had the red handles,
she put my homework and my lunch.

It looked like a fucking briefcase,
like what the fu...

Put my lunch in a Cool Whip container,
that shit is so embarrassing.

Then she goes, "Grab a Sharpie
so I can write your name on the lid."

Like...

Like someone else has
a Cool Whip container lunch box.

"I'm pretty sure I'm the only one
with a Cool Whip container lunch box."

"You never know, Joseph."

"No, I know."

I'm walking around the lunch room,

looking for a place to sit,

with my Cool Whip container lunch box.

All the other kids are looking at me.

"Whoa.

Your mom's gonna let you eat Cool Whip?"

"I don't know what's inside it."

I'm sitting down at the lunch table,

with my Cool Whip container lunch box.

All these other kids
are trading lunches in front of me,

but no one wants to trade
for the mystery bucket.

My mouth is watering,

'cause you see all these
delicious trades going down.

"I'll give you my turkey and cheddar
cheese sandwich,

for that peanut butter and jelly."

"I'll give you my chocolate chip cookies

for those Pringles."

"I'll give you my chocolate milk

for that Gatorade."

And I'm looking at all of 'em.

"Does anyone want munggo?

Munggo?

Munggo?

No munggo? It's so good, munggo?

You get to keep the container."

Some kid was like,
"What the fuck is munggo?"

I had to explain it to him.

"It's these little round green beans.

And it sits on top of a bed of rice.

And if you dig deep enough,
you might find a shrimp or two."

Some other kid was like,

"What the fuck is that bag of sauce
next to it?"

"Patis.

Filipino fish sauce.

It really accents the flavor
of the munggo.

Don't spill it on your shirt,
you'll smell like pussy all day.

Here's the thing about my son, man.

He doesn't know what a lunch box is.

This kid has a debit card.

I'm even embarrassed to say this.

His school takes credit
and he has a debit card.

It fucking sucks.

Doesn't know the responsibility
of a lunch box,

just goes to school and rings it up.

I still discipline him.

I still get mad at him.

He called me on a Wednesday one time,
he was like, "Hey Dad,

there's only, like, $0.40 left
on my debit card."

And I was like, "Oh, my God.

Go fuck yourself!

The fuck did you eat on Monday, asshole,
filet mignon?

What, you're walking into the lunchroom
like a fucking nightclub?

"Ah, chocolate milk's
on this motherfucker, let's go!"

I know this is weird for me to even say,
but my son doesn't know what rice is,

the way I knew rice...

Rice was fucking everything to me.

Rice was breakfast, rice was lunch,
rice for dinner.

And I know there's a lot of people going,
"Oh, Filipinos eat breakfast?"

Yes, we do.

It's... it's just last night's dinner
with an egg.

That's all that... that's all that is.

And it's delicious.

That's all we ate was rice.

That's the key to a Asian household, rice.

That shit is always cooking.
There's always a pot of rice cooking.

The rice cooker is always on.

You could get locked in an Asian person's
house, and all the lights are off.

You can find the kitchen.

Just look
for that little square red light.

Now, there's the fucking rice,
right there.

I sent my son to go get rice
the other day,

I go, "Joe, go grab a bag of rice."

And he ran down a couple aisles,

and then he came back
with this little-ass bag of rice.

Was in his hand like that.

And even though I knew that was
the bag of rice he was supposed to get,

I started reflecting back
to when I was his age.

The bag of rice I had to get...

was a size of this fucking stool.

That shit was twice my body weight.

I had to drag that shit back to my mom.

It was a big nylon bag,

with Chinese writing on the front.

Said 50 pounds at the bottom of it.

My mom would sit that in the back
of the kitchen next to the trash.

Top just ripped open.

Inside that bag was a coffee mug
with a broken handle.

She called that a measuring cup.

She taught me how to make rice.

I remember that day.
"I'm going to teach you how to make rice,

and this is the only time
I'm going to teach you."

"Okay.

How do I do it?"

"You take a couple scoops of rice, Joseph,
put it in the pot,

put water in the pot, squish it around.

Clean the rice like that.

If the water is cloudy, the rice is dirty,
pour that water out.

Put more water in there. Squish it around.

Squish it around.

If the water is still cloudy,
the rice is dirty, pour that water out.

Continue the process, Joseph,
until the water is clear.

When the water is clear, add water.
It's ready to cook."

"Well, then, how much water do I add?"

"Just fill it to this line right here,
Joseph."

This is how you cook perfect rice.

I want the world to know that right now.

This is an ancient fucking secret.

Every Asian knows how to make rice,
and this is how you do it.

You don't need a measuring cup,
and you don't need no fucking rice cooker.

All you need is rice, a pot,

and this fucking line right here.

And I know there's people watching,

"How do you do that?
That doesn't make any sense."

Well, let me explain it to you.

Put as much rice as you want in any pot,

then fill it up with water.

"How much water, Joe?"

Well, you touch the top of the rice
with this finger right here,

and fill it up with water till it hits
that fucking line right there.

Perfect rice.

This kid's got it so good now.

So good.

Disciplining him is easier too, though,
I will say that.

It is a lot easier to discipline my son.

My mom had to be creative.

With me, shit, it's easy.

If my son fucks up, and this is anyone,
though, with a teenager,

they fuck up, what do you do?

Take their phone away.

That shit works.

You don't have to verbally abuse 'em,
you don't have to physically touch 'em.

Just take their fucking phone away.

My son doesn't know what to do
when I take his phone away.

My son physically breaks down
when I take his phone away.

I'm like, "Give me that phone."
He's like, "Ah, Dad, ah.

What do I do now, Dad?"

He's never seen his hand before.
"What is this?

Hello?"

My mom, when she disciplined, shit!

Like I said, she never hit me,
but goddamn, man.

I remember one time,
I was hiding in the closet,

and she walked by and I scared her.

Jumped out, "Ba!"

My mom got so... "Ah!"

"You think that's funny?

Jump out and scare me like that, ha?

Get back in that closet.

Get back in there. Sit there.

You sit there till I tell you to come out.
Sit there."

And I sat in that closet.

And then she forgot
I was in that fucking closet.

She came back with laundry,
"Ha, what are you doing here?"

"You told me to go here.

I've been here all day."

She didn't even apologize.
"Just go to your room, it's late now.

Go to my room crying.
She didn't give a shit.

Called her sister,
bragged about what she did.

"You're not going to believe
what I did to Joseph.

I put him in the closet.

All day!

All day, I swear to God.

I was even walking around,
'Where the fuck is Joseph?'"

My son, goddammit.

He's 15. Here's the thing about
15-year-old boys, man.

He thinks he's being slick and he's not.

I keep telling him that, too.

And that's the thing.
If you got boys, if you got a little boy,

just be honest with 'em,
talk to 'em like dudes.

I can't speak for girls. I'm just saying,
if you have a little teenage boy,

talk to 'em like dudes,
they'll respect you more.

I don't hide shit,
I don't candy coat shit.

I let my son know.

Like, "Joe, I know what you did in there."

"What are you talking about, Dad?"

"Well, I'm just saying, like,

I was 15.

And II know what you did in there.

Like, all the creepy shit you're doing,
I did too.

I was just better at it."

"What are you talking about, Dad?"
"Joe, come on, man. I know what you...

You were in the shower for 30 minutes,
man. I know what you did."

"I didn't do... I just took a shower."
I'm like, "You didn't take a shower."

"How do you know I didn't take a shower?"
"Joe, you were in there for 30 minutes,

and your hair is dry.

Bought you a big bottle
of Head and Shoulders and it's empty.

But you still have dandruff.
I don't know how... what...

But your dick always smells like mint.
It's just mint.

Mint and zinc come from here.

It's Head and Shoulders, Joe,
not Dick and Hand. That's it.

It says Head and Shoulders!

It doesn't say Dick and Hand, Joe.
It says Head and Shoulders.

It's not slick. Come on, man.

"All right, Dad. All right."

That's how my son is now.
Now he's cool with it, "All right.

All right.

I promise.

I'll be... I won't...
I'll make it so you don't know."

Then he went to high-five me, "I promise."

I'm like, "I'm not gonna
fucking shake your hand."

I'm not gonna touch the murder weapon.

Good-looking kid, man.

He's got a full head of hair, man.
He's got a big afro, man.

He's got dark skin.

All right, he's got the darker skin.

He's been going to a lot of the other
football games from other schools,

and all the kids are asking him
if he's half-black.

He even came up to me, like,
"Dad, a lot of kids think I'm half-black."

I'm like, "All right, what'd you say?"

He goes, "I've been saying yes."

"Why would you say that?"
"I don't know, like, they don't know."

"Well, how about when I come
pick you up or something,

and they notice
that you're not half-black?"

He's like, "Well, just don't pick me up."

And then he asked me
if he can get a DNA test,

'cause he saw a commercial,

and he's like "Hey, Dad,
let's get one of those DNA tests."

"Why do you want to get a DNA test?"

"Let's just see,
maybe there's black in the family, Dad?

Maybe a long...
maybe a long time ago, there...

maybe a long time ago
there was someone black in our family,

and it's catching up to me,

Let's just see, it would be fun."

I'm like, "Joe,
there's no black in the family."

"You don't know. Let's just see."

I'm like, "Joe, there's no black in the...

Your aunt married a black guy,
but that doesn't help you at all."

"Come on, Dad.

Just get it.

Just get it. It'll be cool. Just get it."

So I got it.

And we're gonna do it.

And I hope, I don't know...

I hope it comes back black.
I don't know...

If the results come back black,
I'm just gonna be like, "Um...

get the fuck out of my house.

Go find your real dad. Who the fuck...

Who the fuck is this kid?

Give me back that debit card,
motherfucker.

He's constantly fucking with me.

Always fucking with me.

Oh, I'm sorry there's a wire.

A black guy right here, I'm sorry.

- That's... no. What's your name, sir?
- Malcolm.

Malcolm. Goddammit, couldn't get
any blacker than that, shit!

Motherfucker!

Shit.

Malcolm.

Of course it is.

- Is this... is this your lady?
- This is my wife.

- And what are you? What's your ethnicity?
- I'm Filipino.

You're Filipino. See, this is what...

This is what my son's parents
should look like, right here.

My son's parents are here!

You think I'm joking?
Wait... wait till I bring 'em out.

You're gonna be like,
"Oh fuck, that is our kid, shit!"

You know my son ran up to me one time...

This is true story.

We were, uh...

I was, uh... I was in my room,

and he ran up to me,
he always fucks with me.

But he... 'Cause he's got such
a beautiful head of hair.

Right? It's fucking beautiful, man.

And, um...

He looks like one of the Jacksons,
from the Five, like, "Hey!" Like...

But...

And it comes up to me, Malcolm,
and he goes...

"Dad, when I get older,

am I gonna be bald like you?"

And that hurt me so bad.

Like, he doesn't understand
how hard that hurt.

And I was like...

So I wanted to, like, let him know
that it hurt, but not with words,

just by my tone.

I was like, "You know what, Joe?
You get your hair from your mom's side.

And on your mom's side,
everyone has a full head of hair.

That's probably why you have so much hair.
So you have to be worried

about being bald like your dad."

And my son goes, "Sweet!

Sweet!"

And went into his fucking room
like an asshole.

And I was crushed.

I was like, "Man, fuck this kid, man."

That's why any time he asks a question,
I have an opportunity to knock him down,

I do it, Malcolm. Fuck him, man.

He came up to me,
like, two weeks after that.

And he was like, "Dad."
He was like all sad.

"Dad, can I talk to you for a second,

please

and you promise you won't make a joke?"

"Yeah.

I pr... I promise."

"No, I'm serious, Dad.
Like, it's been bothering me,

and I need to talk to you about this,
so please, no jokes."

"All right, Joe, talk to me.
What's wrong?

Why are you crying? What's wrong?"

"Okay, um...

Ah... I don't even know how to say this.

Um...

Okay, I've been growing my pubic hairs
for a couple years now..."

"Joe, you gotta warn me about the topic.

Like, you can't just come in hot
like that, man. You gotta...

warn me, let me know.

I'm trying to eat lunch right now.

Now I got pubic hairs on my mind."

"All right, come on, Dad.
You said you were gonna

not joke around, I'm being serious.
Like, listen to me.

I've been growing pubic hairs
for a while now, like for a couple years."

"Yeah, you're a teenager,
that's what you're supposed to do.

You're supposed to grow your pubic hairs,
what's bothering you?

Why is that making you mad?"

"No, just listen to me."

"Okay, I'm listening.
What? What's bothering you?"

"Okay, well, I always thought,

Dad, that once you start
to grow your pubic hairs,

that... that the penis was supposed
to start growing."

"Yeah, and?"

"My penis isn't growing, Dad!

Just my pubic hairs.

My penis is still the same size
from two years ago,

but my pubic hairs are long, Dad.

It just keeps growing.
I don't get it, Dad.

Dad!

Dad!

Dad!"

I didn't know what to do. I just got
on my phone like, "What the fuck?"

He's like, "What are you doing, Dad?"

And I was like...

"I'm canceling that DNA test."

"Oh, my God, Dad.

Does everything have to be a joke, Dad?

Does everything have to be a joke?"

And I was like,
"Well, you made fun of my hair.

Now I'm making fun of yours."

"Oh, my God, Dad. Come on.

Seriously.

I don't understand what's going on.

Dad, what's going on?

What's supposed to happen?

I've been waiting,
nothing's happening, Dad.

Dad!

Dad!" I just grabbed him.

Grabbed him, I was like,
"Yo, stop. Stop fucking crying.

Stop!"

"Well, tell me what I'm supposed to do.
I don't get it, Dad."

"Well, stop crying, first of all."
"Well, then, tell me. What?"

I go, "Listen to me.

Look at me. Listen to me."

"Oh, my God, what, Dad?"

"Unfortunately, Joe...

That comes from your mom's side too."

Okay, now...

Now here's a fucked-up part
about the story.

I lied to my son.

He didn't get that from his mom's side.

That's 100% my dick, 100%.

I knew it was mine when he described it.

I was like, "Oh, shit. That's mine.
I got the same...

I got the same fucking thing."

But I'm not gonna tell him that.

I'm not gonna be like,
"Yeah, that's the family dick

and I'm heading down to you."
Like no, fuck that!

It's the dick I hand down
from generation to generation.

I'm not gonna tell him that.

That's the hand he was dealt.

Now he has to play his own cards.

I had a small dick and it worked.

Worked for me, goddammit.
It'll work for him.

Not gonna be sad about it.
He's gotta deal with it. Deal with it.

I'd be sad if he walked up to me
and was like, "Dad, I don't have a dick."

I'd be like, "Oh shit!

I'm so sorry.

Oops!

Maybe Malcolm isn't your dad."

Fuck you, Malcolm,
you're laughing too hard at that shit.

Fuck you, man. See?

Laughing hard at the big black dick joke.

But then he got mad at the Malcolm joke,
"Oh, 'cause I'm black.

Gotta have a name like Malcolm."

Stereotypes are funny for a reason,
for that reason right there alone.

That's a good stereotype, Malcolm,
and you know it.

Your whole life, you've been blessed
with that stereotype.

The big dick stereotype.
We don't know if you have a big dick,

but none of us in here
wanna take that bet.

We just assume Malcolm has a big dick,
'cause that's your stereotype.

Just like you assume I'm good at math.

Fuck you, Malcolm.

But that's the fucked-up part.
That's the fucked-up part, Malcolm.

You can't get mad when someone else
calls you out on another stereotype,

'cause it's just funny.

We're just having fun, man.
So, don't get mad.

If you're gonna take that stereotype,
you have to take 'em all, Malcolm.

You have to take 'em all.
Don't be biased with your stereotypes.

Don't get mad if someone walks up to you,
"Hey, you like chicken?"

"Why? 'Cause I'm black, motherfucker?"

Black man's gotta like chicken
all the time, motherfucker?"

"You got a big dick?"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah."

Unfortunately...

Unfortunately...

I don't have a big dick.

And neither does my son.

Oh, this is gonna suck for my son
when this goes out on Netflix.

Goddammit.

Fuck!

He's gonna walk through
the hallways at his school,

and everyone gonna be like this, "Whoa."

"It was just a joke."

No, it wasn't!

That shit is real.

So what?

He has a small dick, and?
It doesn't matter.

Small dick... fuck it.

It'll work. It works. It fucking works.

I'm gonna... You know what?
Here's the thing.

He's gonna go through his teenage years,
be insecure about his small dick.

Then he'll go through his twenties,

probably build-up some confidence,
I think. Then he'll get to his thirties.

If he's not confident
about his small dick then,

then I'll step in and talk to him.

Then I'll walk up to him, like, "Hey man.

Hey!

Still mad about that small dick thing?"

"Yeah, Dad. It sucks."

That's my son, 30-year-old voice.

"Yeah, Dad. It sucks.

I'm 30 years old,
I got a 15-year-old dick.

Here, I'm gonna do it to this side,
"Yeah, I'm 30 years old,

I got a 15-year-old dick, Dad.

What the fuck?"

That's what I'll grab him.

"Listen to me.

All right? Listen to me."

"What? What, Dad?

What could you possibly tell me?"

I'll just tell him,
"From the bottom my heart, look, Joe,

you got a small dick and...

This is all you got to do.

Fix your credit."

And that's the truth, Malcolm.

You ever want to live...

If you ever wanna live
the big dick life, like Malcolm...

...fix your fucking credit.

You got a small dick, fix your credit.

That's the truth. You got a small dick?

Good credit make your dick grow
ten inches.

That's the truth.

And there's a lot of guys in here
that have a small dick, just like me.

You're just not laughing as hard.

Trying to play it off.

Try not to laugh,
like this part of the joke

doesn't relate to you.
You're just looking at me like this.

But the girl you came with his dying.

"What are you laughing at?"

"Fix your fucking credit."

That's the truth.

Fix your credit.

Shit works, man.

Look, it works for me.
I'm confident. I don't give a fuck.

I'm single and I got good credit.

I'll tell every woman in here right now,

I got a small dick!

But I got good credit.

Can a big dick buy you a house?

This little motherfucker can!

It's real talk.

Everything you hear, Malcolm, I hear.

You hear big dick shit? So do I.

Women aren't like men, man.

Women are different creatures, man.
When they love, they love.

You take care of a woman,
you provide for a woman, you protect.

Cherish.

Honor. Love.

Every... All that shit,
make her feel like a queen,

watch what she does for your ego.

Watch what a woman does for your ego.

'Cause she knows
that's what's important to a man,

his fucking ego.

And men love that shit.

She'll say shit to you
that you know goddamn well

she shouldn't be saying to you.

She lies to you in bed,
and you take that lie.

You love that lie,

'cause it makes you feel good.

You never question her on that lie.

"Who the fuck are you talking to?"

You love it when she says it,
you tell her to repeat it.

"Ha, oh my... ow!"

"Yeah, bitch, 'Ow!'

'Ow!' It hurts, huh?"

"Yeah! Oh, my God!"

Doesn't matter about the size.
Size doesn't... look at it.

See, it's small, she doesn't care.
She loves you.

She loves you.

What you doing, the physical act,
making love, she loves making love.

She doesn't care about the size,
"It's mine, mine.

Mine, mine. That's mine.

Mine. Muah.

I'm gonna sleep on it."
Muah.

So, stop trying to do big dick things.

Why do we do that?

Stop trying to do big dick things.

Stop trying to do shit
that Malcolm does naturally.

Stop!

Just do you!

Do you! I do it all the time.

I'm in as far as I can go,
but what do I do?

I arch my back,
like more dick is gonna come out.

The fuck am I doing?

Like there's extra dick in my hip.

I just need to unlatch it.
"There it is, bitch. You feel that shit?"

Your balls are a natural stopper.

Your balls tell you
when you're out of dick.

Your balls always tell you.

Your balls are like,
"That's all the dick. That's all the dick.

Just balls, Jo. Just balls."

Stop trying to do big dick things.

Stop. Stop doing this shit,
bringing it out and going back in.

What are you doing?

You have to have laser point accuracy
to get back in there.

Stop!

Stop!

Just leave it in there.

Leave it in there.

Cram that pussy.

Cram the pussy.

Cram it. Fuck her up. Cram it.

Fucking cram.

Fucking cram.

Cram. Push the bitch.

Cram it.

"Where the fuck are we going?"

Fuck... fucking cram it.

"We're in the kitchen."

Just be happy you've been invited
to the mansion party.

Just be happy you've been invited
to the mansion party.

That's her mansion.

Her 40-million-dollar mansion.

And she's throwing a party,

and there's only one person
on that guest list, you!

I'm getting teary-eyed
just thinking about it.

Forty-million-dollar mansion party

and she's got one person
on the guest list,

you.

That's fucking amazing.

Unfortunately, you can't go all the way
inside the mansion.

"It's a big place you got here."

But you can compliment the door frame.

Jiggle the knob.

Jiggle the knob.

Look for the spare key.
It's in here, up here, and right there.

That's where the spare key is,
I swear to God.

Find that shit.

Malcolm's upstairs, "They got
a Jacuzzi up in this motherfucker."

Fuck you, Malcolm.

I'm just gonna tell my son the truth.

And be like, "Look Joe,
size doesn't matter.

Size doesn't matter."

It got quiet in here.

Does size matter?

- Yeah.
- Yeah?

Does size matter?

Yes!

Yeah?

Yes?

Yes!

One no!

I was right.

I'm gonna ask again, does size matter?

- Yes!
- No.

Yes.

No, down here.

Yes, up there.

See what good credit will get you.

Good credit gets you downstairs.

Oh, shit.

Malcolm's got front row.
He got a big dick and good credit.

Motherfucker!

Motherfucker!

You sure you don't have a big pussy?

What? Is that fucked up?

Stop. I said I had a small dick. Stop.

Maybe that wasn't her yelling.
Maybe that was their big pussy like,

"Yes!"

"Shut up, big pussy." "No, he's a liar."

"Shut up, big pussy." "No!"

If...

If size matters,

then why is the number-one sex toy

that's always sold out at the sex shop
that little, tiny...

Look, look at all the women.

The size of my dick, right there.

Every woman buys that fucking thing.

Not one woman goes in the sex shop
and goes, "I'll take this right here.

I wanna fuck something
and scratch my throat at the same time."

Every woman...

When you use it...

I love you, Hawaii.
Thank you so much, man.