Thursday, September 25, 2014
I wish I can be a rapper or some shit. I really do. You know why I can't be a rapper? It's because my voice ain't deep enough. To be a rapper, you need a deep voice. It's the only way people will listen to you on a regular basis. I don't think anybody would buy my album because my voice is too small. "Yeah bitch I'm killer. I shoot you in the face. Ping ping. Everybody's going to die. Ping ping. Everybody. Everybody's going to die tonight." Did he just say, "Ping Ping." I ain't going to buy that shit if somebody's going, "Ping ping."
Certain shit keeps you being tough. You know what's keep me from being tough. This is really holding me back. Look at this shit here. Look at this. Look at this shit. This is really fracking me up man. There's nothing tough about this. It doesn't matter what you say. Not anybody going to take you seriously if you swing your feet. It don't matter. I will kill everybody in this bitch tonight. I'm not fracking playing with you all. What you all think this is? A game? I'm sick of it. I'm sick how people treat me around here. Would you talk to guy who is swinging his feet? If you are at the club, and I tried to talk to you, "Come here baby. Let me have you a few seconds. You girl. You know damn well who I am talking to. Wait a second. Let me climb down there, and get my feet together. Wait a minute now."
Rappers make me laugh. I square rappers are funny, man. You ever see rappers freestyle? When they are like battling each other, the more angrier the rappers get, the higher the hands get. Have you ever notice that? They all start off so calm. Like this rapper is free-styling. This dude would listen to the other guy.
"Nah, I'm got him. I got him. Real talk. I kill nicks. I sale nicks. I nicks. I nicks, nicks want to give back."
Posted by Dance Studio at 10:45 PM
Wednesday, September 24, 2014
This is the happiness time of my life. I just got married 6 months ago. Give it up. Give it up. No joke. Check it out. Check it out. Check it out. Sorry fellas. Ah. Sorry guys. She's Vietnamese Doctor last name Ho. I'm not joking with you. Doctor Ho. I'm a comic. This is pure joy, "Get in the car, Ho." You know what I'm saying. "Make me some rice, Ho." You know. "You complete me, Ho." You know.
She's Vietnamese and I'm Korean. Where are the Koreans in the crowd. Koreans, we are like the angriest mofo on the planet. Are we not? Are we not, Koreans? "Annyeonghaseyo!" That's mean hello in Korean. Do you know what I'm saying. Give it up you. Give it up.
Vietnamese, where are the Vietnamese? Right. Right. Kind of gay. Right? Kind of gay. You know what I'm talking about. Very fagot, "Tại sao bạn rất đẹp ? Cảm ơn." What the heck. "Tại sao bạn rất đẹp ? Cảm ơn." And when they speak English, they're like gay, retarded, def mutes. You know. "Would you like to eat some Vietnamese pho?" You know. What the heck. "Vietnamese pho? Tại sao bạn rất đẹp ?"
Vietnamese is like Koreans on weed. Think about it.
Posted by Dance Studio at 8:06 PM
Tuesday, September 23, 2014
We are talking about a car now. I knew something was wrong when we down there and the man saw she brought her father. So the man said, "I don't think I can find the keys to the car." So I said, "I don't think I can find the money." So the man found the keys.
So we get into the car now. First of all, to be honest, this is a beautiful, beautiful looking car. I mean, if Denise is sitting in this car, her friends are going to say, "Look out Denise or Chilly down or Cool back or whatever those people say."
I put the key in the ignition, turn the thing, and it went, "koo boo boo boo bump bump bump pump pump pump." The two of us are sitting in there. And the car is not running yet. It's just thinking about it. The car is just in the right side now, just the right side, and it said, "how how how plow plow plunk plunk." And she is sitting there like this like she's dancing, see. "hubba hubba hubba." The car has not started up yet. The car has not started up yet. "how dee how dee how dee." So I press down on the gas, and you're going to think I'm lying. The car said, "What?" The car said that.
So I put the thing in reverse. I let go of the emergency brake. Then push down on the gas, and the car said, "Oh, you want to go backwards?" So now we back out. And the thing goes, "hiccup." Now it's vibrating. I mean this motor is doing, "bee bee bee bleep bleep." Now I'm looking in the rear view mirror, and whatever I run over is. There's twelve of them. And she's sitting there blaming on me, "Daddy?!"
Posted by Dance Studio at 11:27 PM
Sunday, September 21, 2014
I should have went to Disneyland.
Ever since I was a kid, I always wanted to work with Ray Romano. Is it weird that this is exactly how I pictured it?
Well, what's weird is I had this dream before. I wake up, turn over, and see what I would look like if I was a lesbian.
Kangaroos hold baby kangaroos in their pouch. But What if there was even a smaller kangaroo in the baby's kangaroo pouch? How far does it go?
I wonder if i can beat up Brad Garrett He's about half a foot taller than me. But Come on... that goofy bastard would never see it coming.
Why do they call it a bathroom when all it needs to have is a toilet? Should I be taking a bath in my toilet?
I killed a spider in my house the other day. I didn't have to kill it, but he saw me masturbating. Funny. Funny cause it's true.
People are complaining that barbie is too skinny. But she probably does not eat very much because she does not have a butt hole.
The show is called Everybody Loves Raymond, but isn't more important that Raymond Loves Raymond.
Thank you Ray Romano everybody.
Posted by Dance Studio at 8:30 PM
Friday, September 19, 2014
I didn't know I had sleep apnea. My mom told me I had sleep apnea. I was asleep at her house 6 years ago, sleeping in the guestroom. The same way I always do. Just like this, "huh huh huh." And I woke up, "ah ah ah." My mom at the foot of the bed like this, "Oh my gawd Joseph. You're dying."
"Mom, I"m not dying. I'm snoring."
"Joseph that's not snoring. You look like this, 'arrrr arrr arrr.' Joseph you have to go to the doctor, and get that check or else you are going to die. I don't want you to die because I'll die of heart attack. If you die, oh my gawd."
I'm like, "Mom, I'm not going to a doctor for snoring. How long were you watching me? That's creepy." And I kick her out, "Get out of here. Get out of here mom."
"Ah... I'm sorry Joseph. I did not mean to startle you. It just that I was walking to the kitchen, and I heard a noise coming from the guestroom. It sounded like someone was killing a bear. I was like, 'I don't have a bear.'"
Posted by Dance Studio at 8:39 PM
Thursday, September 18, 2014
Jamie Foxx votes Shaq for President Cause He is Cool Calm and Collected in the Championship Interview about Kobe
So you got to pay attention. Whoever you want to be the president, let's pay attention. If we got to ride the boat, let's make sure we do the right thing. You know what I'm saying. Now you'll be careful when you start picking your president. Am I right? Make sure pick somebody that you know is going to be cool in situation. That's why with me, or maybe I bug out sometimes. But if I had my choice, I'll pick somebody like Shaq. Cause he's cool. He never get excited about nothing. He's cool all the time. Did you see the interview that Shaq did right after they won the championship? The dude that was interviewing him was more excited than he was, "So Shaq, How do you feel?!"
"I feel good. I just want to thank my mama and my father. Thank god everyday. Making sure I'm gifted and everything. You know. It's a new thang. You know what I'm saying. I'm trying to do the best I can do. Can you dig it? Can you dig it? uh uh uh."
"So you and Kobe never get in a fight?"
"We were just playing with you all. You all thought we were serious or something. Me and Kobe were just kidding. You know what I'm saying. We gotta gotta wana wanna."
Don't tell him cause that mo will whoop my ash.
Posted by Dance Studio at 9:28 PM
Tuesday, September 16, 2014
How are you doing? Are you having fun Miam? Have you ever wake up at 3 in the morning cover your ash in Harvey relish, and shove your ash in the freak-in ceiling fan? So dig this. I'm in downtown today. Check it out folks. I know there are some tourist here. We got some, some. Are you a tourist buddy? Where are you from guy?
London? "Oh, you are from London, mate? That's freak-in brilliant. Me too. How long have you been here, mate, in the united states of america. How long have you been here."
"2 weeks? Is it? Maybe it's time to lose the fake accent."
I love the way British people say hello, right? Like, "Cheerio." They use a breakfast cereal to say hello -- and good bye. It's like, "Hey man, I had a great time. Count Chocola."
So dig this. I'm downtown yesterday, right? And all of this. I'm wandering around, weird people in downtown. I'm wandering around downtown. All of the sudden, out of nowhere, I hear this, "whooooooooooossssshhhhhhhhhshhhhh." A homeless guy making wind noises.
"Where are you staying while you here, mate? Where you staying while you are in the united ah uh ah uh states? Are you staying at ah oh oh hotel? Where are you staying mate? At KFC?"
"I"m staying at your house."
"Oh you are staying at my house? Well, good. Get up, and make my bed, you wanker."
Sir, put your money away. I don't work take tips for jokes.
You guys should stay at the motel 6 while you are here man -- Great hotel in America. You know their slogan, "I'm tumble death in Motel 6. We'll leave the light on for you." Shouldn't their slogan be more like, "I'm tumble death in Motel 6, and we'll leave the blood fart on the sheet for you. We'll leave the diarhea arc on the wall for yeah."
What the hell are you eating there? Chewy corn chips? Can I have a chewy corn chip? Look at that little treat, yeah buddy? Every put that in your eyes, and pretend you are a dolphin?
How you doing buddy? Have you ever made love to an old lady? Check it out buddy. Check it out. "MMMMmmmm. Mmmmmm. Crack."
"I bet you don't hear that in England? Hey mate?"
Posted by Dance Studio at 9:07 PM
Monday, September 15, 2014
We all have some crappy jobs, right? Everybody has a crappy job. Whatever. You got to do it. First job I had -- Burger King. He he ha ha. I'll come up there man. My brother got me the job. My brother got me the job. Yup. He was the manager. And he got me the job. You'll think it would be cool. You know. Because he is my bro. But he was a duck. He thought he was the burger king. You know what I'm saying. He would put me through drive thru every night.
Why do people assist on yelling at the drive thru. You know it's modern technology. I be there with my headset, "Hi, Welcome to burger king. May I take your order?"
"Blah bla Blah Bla!"
"Blah blah bla bla!"
"Excuse me Chewbaka. I'm bleeding from the ears here Pacino. Let's calm down. Alright we are dealing with food, not missiles here, governor, so drive around."
I would rather have people yell when people didn't talk loud enough. That drove me crazy. 10 cars are out there. I'll be like, "Hi Maim, may i take your order?"
"My squeek squeek. Pickles. Pickles. Cheese. Pickles.
"Main, can I help you."
"And the pickles. And the pickles."
"Apparently, you want pickles. Are you trying to molest me."
"Sauce. All over my body."
"Hurry. Somebody give her some sauce now. She wants it her way."
Posted by Dance Studio at 8:02 PM
Saturday, September 13, 2014
I actually did some sports myself. I ran a marathon. Last year I ran my first marathon. It was a Los Angeles Marathon. I finished. Uhm. Let's not get too excited now. It took me 6 hours and 23 minutes. People were walking faster than I was running at the end of this race. And I trained for it. You know. Cause you get all hyped up. Cause on the marathon day, after months of training, you have to wake up 5:30 in the morning. You go to downtown Los Angeles -- thirty thousand people all different shapes and sizes and color races. Everybody is running the marathon.
And everybody is grouped together in their marathon clubs. You know. Like you got the old lady over here is the grandma running club. And you can tell by t shirts. Cause they got cute little messages that the kids made. They put it on, and it would sparkle with peanuts and stuff. Then you have the military guys over here. They are hard. They're wearing camouflage shorty shorts and combat boots, singing a marathon song. You know, "We will run a marathon. We are about to get it on." So they are hard.
So finally at 6 AM. There's a guy on the podium that says, "Runners! Get on your mark! Get set! Pow!" And you are running, and it's exciting. You wave to your friends, "Look at me. I'm running a marathon." Ah it's exciting. It's exciting for about a mile and half, "What we doing man? 25 more miles?" Now you're just running. Now about 5 miles, this is where society as we know it begins to break down. Grown men begin urinating on public streets, "I can't stop. I got the time." At mile 7, 8, they run out of food. Those slices of oranges, the power bars, now we're hungry and thirsty, but we're running a marathon. After a couple of miles, we become like a pack of wild animals. We were snatching fruit off of trees. Then you get deep, deep into the race, mile 17, mile 19. You get to mile 20. They call this the wall. Cause a lot of people don't get pass the wall. Cause they start to hallucinating -- running the wrong way.
Posted by Dance Studio at 5:53 PM
Wednesday, September 10, 2014
Now listen. Our anthems are cool. Like the national anthem is cool, not in American sports though -- like play off games. I'm going to keep it real. I don't want to hear that shit -- even the players don't. "Ah say can..." Hurry up. You know what I mean. And stop getting some R and B singers. Keep black people away from the national anthem. "Oh say... Can you see... by.... the... oh say..." Is this the remix?! Damn!
Jay-Z busting, "Yo, it's the national anthem. Oh shit. It's over." Oh no. How did he get in this?
I just want some old war veteran that forgot all the words to sing it, "Arrrr say... Damn it. Go on. Start the damn game. Pull my underwear out of my ass arrr." That's what I want.
But during the Olympics it's serious. Our national anthem sounds so great. When they raise our flag, you know usually people watching at home, "like raise that bitch. We got that gold bitch, what. It's our sports. I don't know what it was. It's our shit." It just sounds so good. "deh deh like yeah." Right?
Then I get mad when other countries win a medal cause you got to hear their shitty anthem. "And now time for the Russian National anthem. Eee Neee EEee Neee Nhaaa Neeet RRReeeet. Thank you Russia. That's enough. We don't know when that shit is going to end."
"And now time for the Chinese. Chinese Nationa anthem - Hummm thayyy Chay Seee. Oh thank you. Just end it."
"And now time for the Jamaica anthem. Raaar. Jama. Jama. That was the shit. We will do that one more time."
Posted by Dance Studio at 9:11 PM
Monday, September 1, 2014
What's up? How you guys doing? Alright! Yeah! We're going to have some fun.
So I get hit on by a lot of lesbians, alright. I know man. It sucks. That's why I don't drink. I can't get drunk with this silky hair, and enjoy it. You know. I can't have my back turn at the bar just standing there like, "Oh my god. I love this song. Oh wow. This is great. Yeah."
Guys come up to me, "What's up baby?"
"Hey bro. Stop that. We came together. This is weird."
I know my hair is long. I know exactly when it gets long. It's when people start mistaken me for celebrities. They like, "Hey you look like somebody famous."
I'm like, "Who? Johnny Depp?"
Like, "No. The girl from Juno."
Really? I know. Somebody told me I look like blanket. What do you say to that?
I'm like, "Really? Blanket? Blanket Jackson? What do I, 'hee hee.'"
I don't know what to say. I'm like, "I'm a man." That's it. That's all I did. That's as violent as I get. I'm 5-5 ok. We don't get violent for short people. We don't. We get aggravated, but not violent. We are like chiwawas. You know. We're like, "screw you. Screw you. Puppy Power." That's how we are.
Short chicks are the worst - Short chicks, biggest smack talkers ever. Any girl 5-5 and under, "What's up! I'm a boss. What's up." With their big eyelashes, "What's up. You want to fight, huh?" When they get drunk, it's like down here, "Come on. Let's fight." come on hold my heels, "Come on. Let's do it. Come on. I'm right here." Tiny aggravated people man. That's how we are man.
I'm getting more aggravated. I'm 29, right. I'm getting older. I know I'm getting uncool. Cause I don't like music anymore. I can't stand music. Music is so bad. There's no more good love songs anymore. You get all these kids, trying write about love. Justin Bieber trying to write about love. Really?! He has half a nut in his rectum. He doesn't know what he's talking about. It's still up there. You can't write about love until you know about love. And you don't know about love until you have that first pregnancy scare. You know what I'm saying. That's when you know. I'm going to say this.
Guys, it's our fault. Ok, we got to take care of that, alright. Cause we don't do anything else in the bedroom. We don't, alright. News flash - none of us are sexy. We aren't. We try to be, but we look stupid, okay.
Posted by Dance Studio at 10:15 PM