“Because they see the brown skin and they just assume something’s going on.”

Russell Peters points out that everyone has problems

“Hey, big asian guy. How are you doing?”

Imagine a world-famous comedian directing this question at you in front of thousands of other people. Would you feel uncomfortable? Offended at his description of you? Nonetheless, you would feel shocked. Well, shock is the feeling that Anglo-Indian comedian, Russell Peters hopes to arise in audiences around the world, in his Notorious tour. Peters holds no boundaries with his jokes. He points out the flaws and unique qualities of each people group. Peters’ comedy focuses on ethnicity. As a man of mixed race, himself, he attempts to vanish the unspoken barriers of racial tension. In order to do so, he takes a seemingly counter-productive approach. He humorously points out the flaws, characteristics and stereotypes of many different races. His hope in doing so, is to directly expose the common conceptions of each race and force people to think about how they may have let these stereotypes rule their opinion of said people group.

Russell Peters, born and raised by his Indian immigrant parents, in Toronto, Canada, knows what it is like to not find his identity in one race. His jokes often allude to his struggle with belonging to one certain ethnic group. Because race is something that does not define him, he notices the dividing lines between other people of different races very clearly. In a 2013 interview, Peters commented, “I don’t make the stereotypes, I just see them.” He chooses to defuse these separations through comedy, the universal language.

Because he does not work from a script, he often molds his act around the audience’s racial dynamic. He jokes with the people sitting close enough to answer his overly blunt questions. Sydney, Australia is a perfect platform for him to utilize his racially-based comedy. Australia has a long history of racial tensions and unrest between people groups. The population is diverse and tensions between the Aboriginal people and Anglo-Australians are high. Not only does Peters work to impact people’s opinions on a worldly stage, but also directly on the topic of Australian racial differences.

Notorious transcript

• Alright. Fucking Sydney! Give it up for Starting from Scratch and DJ Spinbad
• Just so you guys know, that’s actually what DJ’s are supposed to do. See how they were DJing and they weren’t looking at you? Because they were fucking DJing. I know a lot of you spend money to go see these “so called DJs,” that stand there in big arenas like this and their arms are in the air. They better be DJing with their dick right now. That’s all I’m saying. ‘Cause if your arms are in the air, who the fuck is playing the music? That’s like you spending money to come see me and then I put on a DVD and go (points at the hypothetical DVD screen). Stand their making hand hearts.
• Ah. Good to be back here. How are ya buddy? I can’t tell if you’re white or not. Um it’s not that easy anymore, ya know? Back in the day when you saw a white person, you knew they were white. Immediately. When I was a kid and I saw a white person I didn’t have to ask. If I was like “are you white,” they’d be like “what the fuck else would I be?” But now you need to confirm. What are you, sir? Are you white? “Yes.” Even you hesitated. You had to go through your own lineage. Like “am I? Why apparently I am. Yes I am.” Because you’re not regular white. You’ve got like hairy immigrant arms. You know what I mean? Get a shot of those. Did you get those? (to the camera man) You’re missing the arm cue. It’s right there. Jesus, that is… That’s not proper white buddy, I don’t know. That’s Italian or Greek or something. I don’t know what’s going on there. Where are your parents from? “The UK.” The UK? Oh. OK so.. Yeah that’s pretty white. Um. That, in fact, is the benchmark. You are one hairy Englishman, I’ll tell ya that. FEE FI FO FUM, I SMELL THE HAIR OF AN ENGLISHMAN.
• You know why you’ve got to ask nowadays? I was in Florida. You guys ever go to Florida, in the US? If you go to Florida, everybody in Florida looks like everybody in this room until they open their mouth. Spanish flies right out of their mouth. Not like a little bit of Spanish like you could tell that all of their thoughts, everything they do is in Spanish. You know how you can tell? When you say “hello” to them, you can see your “hello” enter their head. You’re like “hello” and you see it go “hello(pointing to brain) equals hola.” “Reply with(in Spanish accent)…Hello.” And you know that their “hello” started with a J. That’s the best part. “J-hello.” It’s not just a greeting, it’s my favorite dessert. It sucks for me. I like the Spanish language but if you go to a place where all they do is speak Spanish, and they should be speaking English, it gets annoying. Because they see the brown skin and they just assume something’s going on. And everywhere I go in Florida, they’re like “Oye, Cubano. Oye!” (Jibberish in a Spanish sounding tone, while making salsa-dancing movements.) Listen up there, fucking Fernando. I don’t want to dance right now. First of all, we’re at a gas station, this is really awkward. When I told a guy- I go “Oh I don’t speak Spanish,” he goes “What kind of fucking latino no speak Spanish?” When I told the guy I wasn’t Latino, he reacted like a guy who bought a hooker and found out it was a guy. You know what I mean? Like “No, no. I’m not Latino.” “What the FUCK are you?” (pointing) Pointed at my dick when he did it! “What de FUCK is dat?” I like Spanish, it just gets annoying when everybody’s speaking it. “Hola, Hola. ¿Como Estas? Hola.” I was getting fed up. I walked into a store. I saw an Indian guy with a turban. I got ALL excited. I was like “Thank God my people.” I go “How you doing man?” and he goes “Hola.” I’m like “Oh Fuck.” You can’t speak Spanish with Indian head motions, it doesn’t work like that. “Qué paso(tilting head back and forth)”
• Been traveling a lot this tour. That’s the fun thing about being on the road. I go to countries I’ve never been to. I was Thailand. I know a lot of you have been to Thailand, it’s not far from here. I like how a lot of you don’t want to admit that you’ve been to Thailand because you’re fucking perverts. That’s why. Um Thailand’s great. When I go to countries I’ve never been to, you know what I like to do? I like to experience what they’re famous for. Not ladyboys, you filthy pirates. I was in Bangkok. (laughs) Um. You know what’s funny about Bangkok? Is that it doesn’t matter how old you get. When you hear Bangkok, you’ll giggle every time. 42 years old and I’m like “Bangkok” (giggles). Because you start thinking about the origin of names, right? And you start trying to figure out how they came up with that name. Like they were having a meeting in Thailand and they were like “We need a name for the city(in an asian accent). OK. Quick lunch break and we come back.” (Hit’s crotch on mic and doubles over) OHHHH. “What happened?” “Oh I bang cock!” (sings like an angel) Kind of makes you wonder how they came up with the name for the island of Fuquette. “I don’t know, fuck it.”
• When I was in Bangkok, I got a Thai massage. That’s what else they’re known for. Just so you guys know, if you go to Thailand and want a Thai massage, just say you want a massage. Not a Thai massage. Because they understand that it’s already Thailand. But I didn’t know. One of my friends was telling me about the Thai massages. It’s actually customary over there for the lady to uh…(makes jerking-off motions) Not shoot dice, I mean uh…finish you off. And I was like “well alright.” And just out of curiosity I was like “Why do they do that? Not that I’m opposed to it, I just want to know why.” And he goes “Oh because they give you this great massage and you’re relaxed all over your whole body except for dead center, you’re stiff.” And then he was like “Well when is a man most relaxed? After you know..(makes sexual noise)” And then you add a great massage onto that and then you’re just fucking Jell-O when you leave. (walks with extremely loose limbs) You can tell who’s had a massage. Everybody walking around the streets of Bankok like ehhhh(loose limbs). “Is he hammered?” “No, he had a great massage.” So I was like “alright, I’ll try it out.” So I went for my massage and just my luck-I’m not making this up. When I was there, they had just passed a law saying that these women were no longer allowed to finish you off with their hands. And they weren’t going to start blowing everybody. It’s not that kind of party, ya know? Because even when they do finish you off with their hands, it’s not done like outside of Thailand. Like over here, it’d be considered dirty if everyone’s like “Hey man, you want to go to Rub and Tug?(makes sexual facial expressions.) It always has that gross undertone to it. Like you go to a Rub and Tug and the lady’s talking shit to you like “Oh so big.” And she’s taking her time. Not over there. It has nothing to do with sexuality. It’s just like to relax you. So they’ve got it down to like two pumps like Ding Ding, “get out.” Like they don’t care how big, how small. They’re just like Ding Ding, “get out.” So, I’m trying to figure out what’s going to happen when I go for my massage. So I go “What happens?” and he goes “I dunno but you’re gonna find out.” So I go “Well, alright. Are they gonna finish me off?” “Probably but I don’t know how.” So I go for my massage. This cute little Thai lady. She gives me this great massage down my back, down my legs. Down my feet, up my legs, up my chest. And then she gets to my hog and I know something’s gonna happen, right? But I don’t know what, so I just tilt my head back and relax. And I feel a wonderful sensation on my weener. And I’m thinking maybe she’s doing the old, you know, like elbow crease. I don’t know, like I say “the old” like it’s a move or somethin. So I look up and I swear to God she’s going (moving forearms together) She’s giving me the best wrist job I’ve ever had in my life. Like I didn’t know you could do that with a wrist. I went back to my hotel room that night because it felt so good, I thought I’d give it a shot. Ya know? Sitting at the edge of my bed like “alright.” Just a note fellows, if you’re going to try this tonight, take your watch off. That’s all I’m saying. Don’t be the reason that you have a Bangkok.
• Let’s see, the Middle East. Where are the Arabs at tonight? That’s a lot of Arabs. That’s a dangerous amount. Um what style of Arab are you guys? Lebanese! (in Australian accent.) What the fuck is Lebanaise? Is that some sort of Hamburger topping that I don’t know about? “Hey man lemme get a hamburger”(In an Australian accent) That’s my impression of you guys. It makes me laugh. “Ya OK mate, no worries, yeah.” (in Aussie accent) Are you a particularly high-strung bunch of people where you have to tell everyone “No worries, man, alright. Are you worried? Because no worries.” I always feel like I should shove carrots in your mouth when you’re talking to me. (Makes carrot eating gesture) “No worries” I’m not worried. “Croikey”
• Lebanaise. “Let me get the ketchup and some lebanaise on that. What’s lebanaise? It’s lemon and mayonaise.” My Lebanese friends, have you ever gone back to Beruit? Let me tell you something. I’ve partied all over the world. And by far, without trying to suckup to you guys, ‘cause I’m scared, out of all the places I’ve been to in the world, Beruit parties like you’ve never seen before. They literally party like they’re is no tomorrow. There could very well be over there. You’ve never seen chain-smoking like you go to Beruit, you see chainsmoking. To us, chain-smokers light up a cigarette, finish and start another one. Lebanon? Three at a time. Literally, one in this hand, one in this hand and one of those fake blue ones for “safety.” “Dude aren’t you worried about getting cancer?” “I will never die of cancer(in arab accent)” “Do you have the cure?” “The ***** will kill me way before the cancer. No disease will get me, don’t worry.” I know what the problem is in the Middle-East. My arab friends, listen up. Here is how to start change over there. Here’s what the first problem is. Arab men will never say “No. I don’t know.” They will never say no and they will never admit to not knowing something. It somehow emasculates an arab man to not know something. It doesn’t matter who it is. If he doesn’t know, he’ll make up a story. And he will yell it at you. Doesn’t matter, it could be something as simple as “Hey do you know how to make a cake?” “Yes. Of course. Everybody knows how to make cake.” “Really, because I don’t know how to make cake. Could you show me?” “Yes.” You know how to tell when an arab guy is lying? He’ll start his answer off with “OK.” That’s the fucking tip-off. Right then. “How do you make cake?” “OK. First you get cake. Then you make it for 20 minutes. Then you have cake.” “Are you sure? Because I don’t think that’s how you make cake.” “THAT IS THE ONLY WAY YOU MAKE CAKE! They’ve been making cake like that since the beginning of time!” Like alright, don’t get crazy, I’m just asking. It’s true. It doesn’t matter what you ask them, if they don’t know, they will make up a story. And this really happened to me last year. I was in Dubai and I was in Bloomingdales, the department store. The American department store. So clearly, there’s a problem with the Jews and the Arabs. So I’m in Bloomingdales and I’m looking to leave the store. I see a security guard and I go up to him and say “Hi is there an escalator in here?” “Yes(in arab accent)” “Do you…know where it is?” “Yes of course.” “Do you think you could…tell me where it is?” “Yes of course.” “Fucking tell me then!” “OK…You go straight. Then left. Then right.” I have no reason to doubt this guy. So I go straight. Then I go left. And I go right…into a wall. There’s another guy working in that part of the store. I go, “Excuse me is there an escalator here?” and he goes “Do you see one?” I go “No I don’t, that’s why I’m asking.” “Do you think maybe they put a wall in front of it?” “I don’t know that’s why I’m asking you.” “Why would you think that there is an escalator on this wall?” “I don’t know, that’s what this guy that worked here told me…” “Maybe he lied.” “Who the hell lies about an escalator?” “Apparently that guy.” I ask if there is an escalator in the store. “Of course. How else you go up and down?” “Do you know where it is?” “Of course. I work here!” “So did that guy! Can you tell me where it is?” “Yes.” “Where the fuck is it?!” “OK. You have to go back. Then straight. Then right. Then left.” I go “No, no, no, that’s how I ended up here. Those are the same directions.” “Well that’s where it is” “Are you sure?” “Why would I lie?” “Why would that guy lie?!” “That’s his problem.” So I go back and walk by the guy who gave me the bullshit directions. Now I’m hoping, as a man, that this guy is going to continue the lie for me. At least do that. You know, when I say “hey man, there’s no escalator over there,” I’m hoping this guy’s gonna be like “What?! It was just there one hour ago! They moved it?” But nothing. I go, “Hey man, there’s no escalator over there” and he goes (nods while smiling.) That’s the problem in the Middle East. Arab men need to learn how to say no, I don’t know. Do you realize how much shit could have been avoided? The Iraq War would never have happened. They knew they didn’t have weapons of mass destruction. But when the US asked them if they had weapons of mass destruction, “Yes. Of course. Everybody has weapons of mass destruction.” Even the Iraqi people are like, “What are you doing? Shut up.” “Where are they?(American accent)” “OK. Go straight, then left, then right.”
• And I don’t speak arabic. Sadly, I don’t speak any other languages. I know phrases and stuff and other people’s languages but I have a theory. If you don’t speak another language, you can fake it. The trick is, to know what another language sounds like, and then when you do your impression of it, sound angry when you do it. Because when you’re angry, you’ll screw up what you’re trying to say anyway. It doesn’t matter what language, even if you speak the language… rararar(grumbling) You’ll get angry and screw it up. So if you know what it sounds like, you can fake it by just sounding angry. Like I’ll give an example. If I went to India, there are over 200 languages in India. I don’t know any of them. At all. I know a couple of greetings. But I don’t know enough to get me in or out of trouble. But I know what they all sound like. And if I was stuck in India, I would just fake it. I could be stuck in a market in India and be like “(Angrily spits gibberish in an Indian accent)” They won’t know. They’ll be like, “Oh my God, he’s very angry. I don’t know. I don’t know what dialect that one is but this man is very angry! He is most angry! He’s very cross. So cross.”(Makes a pinching motion toward his head and then ‘throws’ it out) That’s what Indian people do. We don’t want all of that bad energy. We take it and we throw it out. (Same motion) “Get out of my head! And into my car!” Same thing with any language. You can fake it. I’m going to HongKong in a couple of weeks. If I get stuck there, fuck it. I don’t speak Cantonese but I know what it sounds like. (Gibberish in an asian accent.) “I don’t know what language that man is speaking, but whatever the case, he is very mad.(In asian accent)” “So mad. I’ve never seen somebody so mad in my life.”
• Big asian guy. Good to see you. How are ya? (to asian man in front row) You know that you’re a big Asian guy, I didn’t have to tell ya. What style of Asian are you? “Choinese(Australian accent).” I’ve never quite heard it put with that accent before. “Alroit, noice to meet cha. I’m Choinese.” Where are you from? Born in Australia. “Alroit man.” And are you a big fan of meat? (Man’s shirt says meat.) According to his shirt. It says fuckin meat. I didn’t know! Don’t look at me sideways. What’s your name? Peter. Oh ya for sure, absolutely… And your girlfriend? “That’s Wong. This is Wong.” Do you have a Chinese name, Peter? You don’t? Don’t fucking lie to me, Peter. I don’t believe you. Where are your parents from? Ten shan? Well let me tell you. TENSION is building if you don’t tell me. There’s no way your parents said “Look that’s our baby Peter.” Unless they were like Pee-Taww. You know what I mean? Like family name Is Taww and his name is Pee. “Pee-Tawww.” (Asian sounding gibberish.) It’s fucked up that I said that, Peter. I’m sorry. And that’s your lovely lady?
• Are you guys engaged? Congratulations. When are you guys doing that? You don’t know? No rush? She’s like, “No. Fuck that.” How long you guys been together? 4 years? Are you waiting to get to 8 because that’s the lucky number in Chinese? How did you guys meet? And by meet, I don’t mean meat. Work? That’s nice. How old? 28? Well don’t rush into getting married. You’re too young. You gonna knock her up at some point, Peter? Little half Asian babies. Atta boy. I have a baby, a daughter. I like her. She’s not here, you don’t have to clap. I mean she’ll watch this at some point. “Dad, what the fuck?” Who has kids? You have kids, English guy? Not yet? Well you’ve got to un-furry your furry area. “Ta-daa (singing while motioning toward his crotch.)” I like being a dad. My daughter is 2. She’s really pretty. Let me clear something up. If I had a fucked-up-looking kid, I’d be the first to tell you. I’d be like “Ya I’ve got a little girl. Eeeek(disgusted). Fingers crossed she grows out of it.” But I’m honest. I hate when people say how cute their kid is and you see it and you’re like, “What the fuck is that?” What did you google a platypus before showing me your kid? Not every kid is cute. They are sweet, but you can look at a kid and be like “Ew.” I saw a cute baby in the mall the other day but just a giant head on this kid. Like I could tell it couldn’t even hold that shit up. Just a big head on that baby. Hope he grows into that thing. But she is a very pretty girl, my daughter. People say “Wow, she’s so pretty.” And to be honest with you, she looks like my ex-wife. My ex was a very good-looking woman. On the outside. My ex-wife is like a ferarri with no engine. Like “Oh my God a ferarri!” “Ya it doesn’t work.” Just fucking sits there and costs me money. That’s all it does.
• Are there any pregnant women here tonight? Sorry that you’re in the stairs. Have to climb all that shit. “Ughhh(holding back).” Pregnant women have it rough. You have no idea how rough pregnant women have it until you get pregnant. Like, there are the obvious things that pregnant women have to go through like discomfort, and their hormones are crazy. They’ve got cravings, a human inside of them, their moods are all over the place. That’s enough to have to deal with on your own. But when you have to deal with other people too, that only adds insult to injury. And especially in America, they don’t give a shit. They’ll say whatever they want to you. When my ex was pregnant, we were in the mall one time. And this girl walks up to my ex-wife and goes, “Oh my God, you’re pregnant. That’s a miracle.” She pointed at her stomach like we didn’t know where she was pregnant. “You have a miracle growing inside of you.” I hate when people say shit is a miracle. It’s not a miracle when a woman gets pregnant. Especially when my ex-wife is Latina and I’m Indian How hard to you think it was to get pregnant? You’ve got the two most fertile races on the planet. We never even had sex. I just sent her a text one day that said “I’m coming home” “Dooing” “I just saw coming.” It’d be a miracle if I was in the wrong hole. “It IS a miracle! I was in her ass. This is the most determined child you’ve ever seen. Do you know how much shit this kid’s been through?”
• I love being daddy. Having a little girl. I know your chinese side probably wants boy. (To Peter) I don’t make up these things, alright. I’m just going by what I understand. And they get to this age where they repeat everything. People warn me about that ya know, “Eh Russell, you’ve got to watch what you say because they repeat everything.” “No, they don’t.” I forgot I have a foul mouth. I forgot about some of the things I do when I’m alone in the car. When I was driving to pick up my daughter a few weeks ago, I was playing NWA on the way there. And you know, because it’s so old-school, I wasn’t thinking about what they were saying. I was just thinking about the memories it brought back for me. The late 80s, you know, and then you start thinking about all these things. I wasn’t thinking about what they were saying. Then I pick up my daughter and I put her in the car. And I don’t sing along completely because I don’t really know the words to everything, but I just sing along to the part I know. And anyway, it got to this part in the song, and I’m just driving. And I’m like “Yo got that 5 0 double up nigga.” And then 2 seconds later from the backseat, I hear, “Niggaaa.” “NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!” And I’m trying to flush her memory. I’m like, “Potato! Potato, honey!” And she’s like, “Po-Pota-Niggaaa.” I can’t return her to her mother full of filth.
• Is that your wife or your girlfriend? (to Englishman) How long you been together for? You thinking about locking her down? Or are you just going to waste her time, Englishman? Why are you sweating right now? For no reason. She seems like a lovely lady, you still like eachother. Look at that. They’ve been together 4 years and engaged. (To Peter) And they’re still holding hands. That’s cute. It’s the T-shirt. But he’s not grabbing his meat, she’s holding his hand. Who has kids? You have kids, older guy? And I mean older with respect, not like ew fucking old. I mean you’re obviously older than me. Unless you just aged horribly. You know what I mean? What’s your name sir? Al. And who are you here with, your family? Are any of those your kids? Your wife and son. And daughter or daughter-in-law? Which one. I ask daughter or daughter-in-law and he says “yes.” Hello? “Bastard, hello(in indian accent.) He’s fucking looking at me like..(wide eyes.) This isn’t youtube. I’m not buffering right now, I’m talking right to you. Is that your only child, Al? You like him? Good, right. How old are you? 26? Why are you so shifty-eyed for? Great, that’s gonna be on film forever. When you’re your dad’s age, “what the fuck was I thinking?” How old are you, dad? You look great for 62. You look like shit for 42 but you look great for 62. That’s good. And were you in the room when he was born? Let me tell you something, guys. When your wife goes into labor, do your best to not be there. Be in the vicinity, like the hospital. You can make her think you’re in the room. Like do some sort of voice note on your phone. “Push, honey, Push.” And then hit repeat and loop. But when she’s giving birth, don’t go in that room. Because women get crazy when they’re giving birth. They say the meanest shit to you, don’t they? Because they are in pain. They feel that pain and then they start thinking, “You’re the fucking reason for this pain. I hate you with everything in me right now.” They just get mean, don’t they? Here’s the problem. Women don’t think that men know birth hurts. Of course it hurts. It has to hurt. I’ve had shits that hurt. I can only imagine how much worse it would hurt if you’re squeezing a human out of you. But that’s part of the deal, ladies. And I’m not trying to downplay how painful it is. It’s extreme pain. But the positive side to the pain of giving birth is that it’s physical pain. Which means that it’ll go away eventually. 6–7 weeks later, your vagina will snap back together and you’ll forget all about it. You’ll be walking around and you’ll stub your toe and be like “Oh shit! My toe!” “What about your vagina?” “Fuck that. My toe hurts.” Physical pain is the best pain you could hope for. I used to box and I would get black eyes and headaches but after a couple of days it would go away. I’m not comparing boxing to your box. I’m just saying that physical pain goes away, ya know? Because when you’re giving birth, all you really need to do is lean back and focus. Focus on squeezing this person out of you. You don’t have to see what we saw. In that fucking room. We can’t unsee it. 6–7 weeks later, your vagina’s ok and the rest of my life is fucked! It’s been 26 years. Do you think Al’s forgotten? He’s not forgotten shit! I’m scared to go down on chicks to this day! It’s been two years and I’m scared. I’m jabbing my way in. It’s the worst thing you could ever see! It’s like watching your favorite restaurant burn down! They’ll rebuild it but I’m not eating their again. That menu is different. They’ve done all kinds of things-put a drive thru in there. Mexicans working in the back. Is he a good kid, Al? Absolutely. Was he a smart child? Always. You’re dad really loves you because my dad would be like, “this guy’s a fucking idiot.” Either your dad loves you a lot or he can’t stand you and he doesn’t want us to know. Indian dads will say “This guy’s a fucking idiot.” Do you love him? “Of course I love him, that’s my child. But what a fucking idiot. Absolute idiot.”
• My daughter’s pretty smart. I’m impressed by her. She’s only two and already speaking spanish. I wanted her to learn spanish first because she’s half Latina and we live in California so I at least wanted her to know the language of California. Spanish is a very helpful language in California. You go to a restaurant, want your car back from valet, you want to know what to say. I told my ex-wifes family, they’re from ecuador, told them to do me a favor and speak to the baby in only spanish.They were like “no problem” and were like “no problem, did jew want us to teach her english too?” “Nahhh. I got this.” Last thing I want is my daughter to be born in America and sounding like an immigrant, “Dada jew coming over?” “No sweet heart, No. Jews are not coming over. Unless my agent calls.” When you have kids trust me on this one, buy them educational toys thats the best thing to do. They start learning really young, I bought my daughter this toy and you press the color and it says the color and you push yellow it goes YELLOW, GREEN, BLUE. But the cool thing in America is that all the educational toys have a switch from english to spanish. I flicked all her toys to Spanish and now I’m learning Spanish too. Mmmmmmmmm. Who’s thinking I am. Now when she pushes it it goes AMARILLO, VERDE, AZUL. Now I know how to say yellow,green, and blue in spanish. But only like an opera singer. Let me tell you where it backfired on me. Few weeks ago I was in LA I needed some yellow paint, went to home depot and I walked in and there was a Mexican guy working INSIDE…INSIDE Home Depot so thats progress. Thank you Mr.Obama. I knew he was Mexican first because its LA and his back was facing me and he was 5'4 and had a giant head. There was no neck and it looked like a rock ‘em sock ‘em toy that hadn’t been punched in the gut yet. He turned around and his name was Juan, you know what I mean? His name was Juan and had the little Mexican flag on his pin. When I usually see someone and can figure out what their comfort language is I always try and greet them in that language. I do this for two reasons so that way they think I speak their bullshit so they won’t try and rip me off and secondly you know it makes them feel comfortable and when I try to say it I do it in the best way I can say so you really believe I speak it. The minute you reply thats when I get fucked up. I run out of words. I see him and I say, “HOLA JUAN COMO TE LLAMA” and he says “Hola ( Spanish Gibberish)” …..and Im like alrighty then listen I think we need to go back to English you know because you’re at work and we need to keep it “professional” so I go I need some paint and he goes “Si, que color?” and I do Yellow and he goes “SI, mira.” and he holds up gray and white and shades of grey and shades of white and I go no yellow and he replies si Yellow. I go thats gray and white and he says “no, that’s yellow mira.” No that’s fucking shades of gray juan. He stills goes “Mira! yellow Mira Mira Ice Ice” .I don’t care what your favorite song is right now I just want yellow paint. “Ice Ice Si Mira.” I didn’t know that yellow meant Ice in spanish thats not on the toy. So I get in this big argument with this guy not fucking ice juan SI mira Yellow. Stop saying Mira Yellow this is not yellow. Stop saying yellow ice I don’t want that thats disgusting first of all and I just want yellow. STOP SAYING MIRA YELLOW, MIRA YELLOW NO SE NO SE. STOP WHAT THE FUCK, NO SE NO SE. AMARILLOOOOOOOOO turns out he has the same toy at home and he goes “Jew mean YELLOW?”
• I want to be strict, I want to be strict with my daughter. But she’s only 2 so i cant really gage how I’m gonna be with her yet. I want to be like my parents but not as crazy. Indian parents are crazy with their kids, I wanna be like white parents. I love watching white parents talk to their kids. White parents have this way of speaking to their children like their humans. Its beautiful to watch. But I cant be as lenient as white parents, because you white parents take it a little too far. You guys give your kids “Options” their fucking kids they shouldn’t have options. I was in the mall the other day and I saw this white lady with a Kid in the food court, and she said to her 5 year old kid “Sweetheart what you want to eat for dinner” the kid goes “ I don’t know” ok well when you figure it out let mommy know and shell make it for you. kissing noises I love you. She asked a 5 year old what you want to eat. Not do you want this or this. What. He could be said anything. I want shoes. Shoes for dinner. She wouldve made him a pair of shoes. I cant even imagine, I grew up in an immigrant house, in a Immigrant house there is no dinner for the adults and dinner for the children. Mom doesn’t fucking care of what the children like Mom doesn’t cook for the kids, mom cooks for dad. Whatever Dad liked thats what you were eating for dinner. It doesn’t matter what your dad liked thats what your eating. Turns out my dad liked molten plates of lava I was the only 5 year old farting fire at 5. Fart noises. They used to call me dragon ass in school. But white parents explain things to their kids, they take the time to do that. Thats nice. Indian parents they’re the worst, they don’t want you to do something they will make up the most insane story as to why you shouldnt do something and will scare you to not ever think about it. And you think that your parents are not that creative so you think there is no way you can they can make that up. That must’ve of happened. Ill give you an example, I grew up just outside of Toronto in a small town called Brampton. Btown represent. I grew up in these town houses so all the driveways were attached to the houses. At the edge of the driveway was a major road with cars. We were obviously not allowed to play on the roads only on the driveways. Obvious reasons. This is the white lady telling her son to not play on the road “Sweetheart mommy doesn’t want you to play on the road, ‘WHY NOT’, because its not safe, ‘I DONT CARE’, well I do, ‘SOO’ If you get hurt you will make mommy sad..Do you want to make mommy sad? ‘NOOO’, well then be a good boy, ‘OKK,’ I love you” It was so good she explained it to him and why he shouldn’t and the consequences to what could happen. He had all the information to not play on the road and you know what he didn’t play on the road. Not my dad this is my dad telling me the same thing “RUSSELL, DON’T GO ON THE ROAD. YOU’LL GET HIT BY THE CAR AND BREAK A PART” Not I might get hit by a car, I WILL get hit by THE car. Apparent there is only one car in my neighborhood and I was going to hit by the car. Going to get hit by it and break a part. How the fuck do you break apart? When I was a kid I thought I was made with Legos and was gonna break apart one day. They scare you into not doing things. I don’t have any tattoos because my dad scared me “ If you have a tattoo you’ll find out” “Thats how you get hepatitis” “You want hepatitis?” “NO” “Then don’t fucking get a tattoo” you have any tattoos al? you know why because you’re from the generation I’m not saying I’m from your generation from my generation emulated yours. In my generation, you had to earn tattoos. You just didnt go and got one blindly. When I was a kid the only people I saw with tattoos is old white guys and they would have a fucked up looking anchor on their forearm and it wouldn’t look like an anchor more like a check mark you know what I mean. Like he got it when they hit some rough water. OOOOOO check mark. As a kid tattoos mean something now they don’t mean shit everyone goes and gets one it equals nothing to me anymore. Im like why did you get it and people are like to express my individuality NO you’re a fucking idiot thats what happened and you decided to be just like everyone else. When I was a kid you can look at someone and see what their tattoo was and where it was to decide what type of person they were. Like you saw someone with a neck tattoo you were like thats a crazy son of a bitch right there. They always had something crazy on their neck like FTW Fuck the world. Then they would have a teardrop tattoo. Whats the teardrop for? “I KILLED A MOTHAFUCKA and I couldn’t cry my own tears.” Dontchu quit on me. Now it doesn’t matter what the tattoo is or where it is. Now there’s emo kids with skinny jeans and life is difficult tattooed on their necks. Real tears running down his face. Why you crying? IT hurt. People get crazy they get sleeves. ITs cool right now. In 10 years you’re going to regret it. Its like having a ed hardy shirt on for the rest of your life. Sorry Lebanese people. “Now alright mate, ed hardy…” I see your tattoos sweetheart I see it. You look upset talking about tattoos. What’s that on you? A nautical star that says dream big work hard. When you say it aloud do you see how ridiculous that is. Im just saying when you’re on the way to the tattoo shop you should’ve said it aloud a couple times. So you have 5 tattoos? What was your first one? You got one on your back? What is it? Its a music note? Is it on your back or tramp stamp? You should put a bass clef at the base of your back. Is it a treble clef? Are you a singer or you want guys to whistle while their fucking you? What was your first tattoo? Treble clef on your back. One day you looked at your back and said “fuck my back is boring it needs a soundtrack.” Woman always put these cute tattoos. They start with these cute tattoos..What you get? A dolphin heheheheheh. You got to think about the future when your 80 years old that dolphin look like a can of tuna. That treble clef is gonna look like a teardrop on your ass. Your nautical compass is gonna be all out of whack. It used to point north now everything goes south. What does it say fsjkdhfsdkhfk;s….You gotta think about the future. No one thinks about the future.. when I was your age How old are you when you got it? 19 what the fuck you haven’t had skin long enough. At least have skin for 20 years. Before you fuck it up. You’re young and not thinking about the future. I’m glad I never I got a tattoo because after you’re 40, your skin doesn’t snap back like it used to. Like your skin after 40 is like finding your favorite pair of underwear from 5 years ago omg I still have these and you pull the waist and it doesn’t snap back and your like my favorite underwear is my new dusting cloth this perfect. You don’t think I see you buddy, you got a sleeve and this weird shit going on over there. What is it? What you got there besides no arm left? What happened. What was your first tattoo, tony tats. what is that? A dragon because you have bad breath or..? What made you get a dragon…obviously you’re not chinese. You like dragons…you know that they’re not real right? umm I like dragons I have a bunch of them. Then you were like I have this dragon and another arm and you just went fucking ham on the other arm didn’t ya. Where are your parents from? You’re obviously not a white guy. Syria. One guy clapping. NO that was mosquito. You know your syrian parents don’t fucking appreciate your arms right now. Back home son we would’ve cut of your arms you look like shjfd cut off them. I see yours too buddy, you guys aren’t thinking are you. How old are you? 35 how long ago did you get that? 5 years ago so at like 30 you were like this arm needs a fucking dragon. I never want to see this arm again!! The asian guy beside you has a tattoo.. do you have a dragon? That would make more sense to me. Do you have a dragon? Ya see that makes more sense. He fucking has a dragon. You should have a tank or something to describe where you’re from. Like a fake set of bombs strapped to your arm you know what I mean? This Asian guy is like so stupid this Arab guy has a dragon, “Hey dragon arms.” Think about the future. Why do you have a dragon , were you born in the year of dragon? Dragons are more in tune for you being asian. Im not really mad at you for having that. Woman get cute with tattoos they put sayings and shit on them. There was a girl on one of my shows who was like I got one here and here and here and here and stuff on my back. I got stuff on my back too but I wax it off. what you got on your back and she goes scriptures..I have scriptures written all over her back. WHO IS THAT FOR? The guy fucking her thats who its for, I don’t know about you but the first time I fuck this girl I don’t want the bible to be staring in the fucking face.‘’Thats it baby turn over what the fuck. Oh my god I’m gonna cum give me your face’’, “why are you cumming on my face?” “Because I don’t want to cum on Jesus.” Its really uncomfortable my moms sitting right over there. And I just did that sorry MA. Your fault. I didn’t know these words before. She bought me an educational toy.
• I’m jealous of tattoos. Thats my real problems with tattoos I’ll be honest with you. Because first of all you cant get a tattoo after 40 because you look like you’re going through some mid life crisis you look like an idiot and the other reason is Im an hairy indian guy. I don’t have the real estate for a tattoo. What am I gonna get a tiger peering through the hair of my chest? roars. Girls are like omg the grass looks so real. Megan Megan come her he’s got like a 3d HD omg eww you can feel it its so gross. How old are you kid? You look young. 15. Thats an awkward age. Don’t get any tattoos. You’re only 15, don’t do whatever the fuck she did at 15. she’s only 19 soon I mean I don’t know when you got the treble clef. 18. In one year she got 5 tattoos no regard for her body. Seem like a nice brown kid don’t fuck this up. You’re 15 your in your prime whacking years just enjoy that. Its ok buddy we’ve all been there. Who’s that with you , your uncle? How old are you uncle? 34 you know what I’m saying uncle. 15 thats all you wanted to do. Whats your name buddy? Shahan…Shahan when you’re jerking shahoff that theres nothing wrong with you. Just enjoy remember uncle 15 rawer..even in your 20's as a guy you could jerk off 8 times a day and still fuck at night and it was an incredible time. I mean you don’t do it properly but. Don’t try this tonight either you’ll get carried away. It never ends for a man Shahan You will always as long as you have arms. Al 62. He’s still cranking one out every once in a while lets not lie to each other al. Its not as frequent as it once was but I mean once a month. But you gotta empty the pipes you know what I’m saying. After your 40 it slows down and thats when you have to make decisions in life you know, you’ll still do it but not the same frequency or willingness as it used to be. Like tonight Ill give you an example if i don’t get laid after my show I don’t give a shit Ill go back to my hotel room open up my laptop put on some porn crank one out and go to sleep like a fucking gentleman. You know what I mean? problem is after 40 you get tired way easier. You know how many nights Ive put my laptop on my chest and I fall asleep with my dick in my hand. While the movie is loading. and the only reason I wake up is from the heat from my laptop is burning my chest. Im on fire. I grew up like an immigrant even though I wasn’t an immigrant in canada I felt like one. I moved to the states 7 years ago and actually became an immigrant kind of a weird process for me. You know being a canadian living in america..3 canadians good. One canadian flag. Hold that up well get a shot of that. Don’t you want that on the DVD? Thats our flag a leaf symbol of strength and fall. The immigrant experience is a lot harder than you think it is you know w You really gotta give your parents props to wherever they went to because they took a chance. My parents left India in 1965 and they moved straight to India to toronto which is where I was born and raised by wolves. I don’t know thick my dads accent was when he moved but it never got thinner. In the 40 years he was alive there. My dad has this ability to give everything an accent. Everything it didn’t matter not words any immigrant can fuck up words my dad would fuck up sounds. One time my dads car broke down and he called me “ Son the car is broken down” what happened “ I don’t know” “well whats wrong with the car?” “ If iI knew that I would be a MECH NICK” what the hell is a MECH NICK. What the hell is a MECH NICK. The bastard that fixes the car. I think you mean mechanic. Dont be stupid, there is no K in it. Thats how you tell how indian he is by seeing how many fingers they point with. I was born in North America I point with one people from india four fingers. See this bastard. Just see see everybody. See. See in India this makes total sense because theres so many people there you cant pinpoint shit. Where is he? There There see. I don’t know your pointing at 4 things. There There. Stop saying there. THERE THERE. You’re saying there more times. Where? In that vicinity… That particular group of people. They say things in India that make total sense but no sense outside of India. LiKe ill give an example, last year I was in india I went to visit my uncle in Bombay I went to his apartment and I was like oh hey uncle this is a new place did you move? and he goes ya son few years back we shifted. He said they shifted. They don’t say they moved in India. Did you move? No No son we shifted. Few Years back we shifted to this place. They shifted you cant use that outside of India. Imagine if your moving tomorrow..what are you doing tomorrow …shifting. Stop you shifty bastard whats wrong with you. But that makes total sense in India shifting doesn’t it. Theres so many people there you cant fucking move. you just kinda shift. Recently I shifted here. I say to my Dad what were you doing when your car broke down..”I was making the turn Even though we were on the phone I knew he went. you know the pauses on the phone are.. what do you mean you’re making the turn were you creating the turn, the turn was there and i was making it. So it existed before you were there of course it existed how else would I made it. Who made it. I don’t know who made it, but I was making it. So was it made or you made it? Don’t you question me you bastard. You get an Indian father mad and the go to is bastard. My dad would call me a bastard that didn’t make any sense. You bastard but dad I cant be a bastard you’re my dad. Am I? AM I? were you there when it happened? He would get so mad he would call me a son of a bitch in front of my mom. You son of a bitch..Erik.. not you honey obviously the proverbial bitch thats out there. He’s not your or my child he’s the son of the bastard son of a bitch. Bastard Bitch. You had to get him riled up. So dad you make the turn or created before. It was made before I didn’t create it I was making it . You cant make it if it was already there. I did not make it I was not making it I was MAKING it. By extending the word Making does not mean you made it dad. you want to get an indian person upset tell them they did something illegal. I was making a turn OF COURSE IT WAS LEGAL. I put my indicator on and this is where my dads screws up the sound it was working just fine taka taka tada. What the hell is that noise thats my indicator aka taka nada why does your indicator have an accent? you know its not an indiacator right? Shouldn’t it being chh chh chh? Thats what its doing what you hearing? taka taka tada. Alright then what happened then I proceeded to make the turn. Suddenly the engine went gadda gadda gadda. Your engine went what? gadda gadda gadda. Your engine went gadda gadda gadda? let me get this straight your indicator went taka taka tada and your engine went adda gadda gadda. Right? Dad your car is an illegal immigrant. Thank you sydney y’all were awesome.

Russell Peters uses his own race as a medium to address the universal stereotypes of different groups of people. He uses his personal life as an Anglo-Indian as weaponry against racism. In his book, Call Me Russell, he explains, “I’m never just a comic. No matter how people describe me, there’s always something before my name or my profession. There’s always that hyphen: South-Asian comic, Indo-Canadian comic, South-Asian-Canadian comic, Canadian born-Indian comic, Brampton-raised stand-up comic…To my friends and family, though, there’s no hyphen. They just call me Russell.” The reason Peters finds this absurd is not because he is ashamed of his culture, but the emphasis placed on his ethnicity makes it seem as if he was defined by it. Peters experiences all sorts of treatment and typecast due to his vague ethnic decent. He forms his acts to work against this situation and to allow him to connect to others that face the issue worldwide.

The Anglo-Indian person is defined by the Indian constitution as: “ a person whose father or any of whose other male progenitors in the male line is or was of European descent but who is domiciled within the territory of India and is or was born within such territory of parents habitually resident therein and not established there for temporary purposes only”. After India gained independence in 1947, the Anglo-Indians were considered foreigners within their own country. India being predominantly Hindu consists of only three point six percent of the population being Christian, and of that population, only three hundred thousand people to a million are of Anglo-Indian descent. There are another hundred and forty five thousand Anglo-Indians living around the world in search of a brighter future than to be a minority in their own country.

When Maurice and Erik Peters, Parents of Russell Peters, emigrated from India to Canada, they had hope of giving themselves and their children a brighter future. This was the same hope of many other Anglo-Indian families during the mid nineteen hundreds. Peters comments in his autobiography, “I think that’s what so many immigrant parents hope for. Not necessarily a great life for themselves…but at least the promise of an easier one for their kids.”

Many Anglo-Indian families, like Peters’, were lead to move elsewhere, in search of racial and religious acceptance. However, they felt similar pressure in their new homes. In an interview by CNN, Russell Peters claims that he was bullied in his younger days in Canada, being called names such as “Paki.” After being a minority, not only in his parents’ country, but also in his natural home, Russell Peters stresses the risk of immigration and how difficult it is to adapt to the new culture. He uses his personal experiences and issues with racism as the underlying fuel for his acts. He continues to address his Australian audience, a country with many Anglo-Indians and new immigrants, while pointing out the racism and generalizations towards minorities.

Peters uses comic relief to bring attention to the apparent and subconscious stereotypes that the general public shares towards certain races. He subliminally diffuses the tensions that go along with these stereotypes by magnifying their silliness. By connecting his past experiences with his observations, he expresses his point of view indirectly, which forces the audience to pay attention in order to discern his true opinion. The audience notices his exaggerated comments and detects that Peters is actually attacking the stereotypes, rather than condoning the stereotypes. While the audience believes they are just enjoying Peters’ hilarious jokes and stage presence, they are subconsciously being exposed to generalizations of different cultures. Peters may seem like just a funny comedian; however, he uses his jokes to demand the attention of a wide audience in order to promote change amongst the world’s people groups by broadening peoples views on others that are different.

Works Cited

Cohn, Ronald, and Jesse Russell. Russell Peters. N.p.: Book on Demand, 2012. Print.

Peters, Russell, Clayton Peters, and Dannis Koromilas. Call Me Russell. Toronto: Doubleday Canada, 2010. Print.