About Me

My photo
I'm a Comedian who loves to write blogs about my past experiences, no matter what they are.

Thursday, May 26, 2011


                           What's happening beautiful people? It's been a while. I've been busy writing and getting my one man show up and running. All I was doing for about 3 months was writing, talking and more writing. I got stuck in a mode thinking about my life which at time is like looking in a mirror. Writing one of these things makes you look at yourself and see where you got that part from, and that part from, which in turn is very creepy. Enough with that.
                          I now have a new mind fuck. On June 17th and 18th  comedian Gabrial Iglesias is taping a new show for Comedy Central called "Comedy Revolution". Its a stand up show with Gabrial as the host bringing up certain comics and he chose me to participate. At first he called and said to do what I wanted. He said that if I was dirty they would just cut my segment and put me on the DVD. That is great. For the first time in a long time a Comic calls and says its OK for me to be crazy! WOW!
                          I thought about it. I could go in there and really rock the room.Everybody else will be clean, they won't be expecting it. But then I thought, why run down there and fuck one of them when I could walk down there and fuck them all!
                          I decided to put together a smoking show! I've done other TV shows before and I've always been dirty. I'm going to put together something so it will air on television, fuck the DVD. I want you all to be proud of me. I've never been on HBO or had a Comedy Central special and I know this is only 8 minutes in which they'll probably keep 4 minutes of but its my 4 minutes to let you know whats in my heart and thats all that matters.
                         I've also decided to document the 4 weeks prior to the set. From going to Yoga, to writing, to performing and just regular shit from my day including going to NOCC for my famous Banana Bread, that's part of the training. Before GSP fights, they always do a 24/7 or some shit. This little documentary will be mine. I'll start a page on You-Tube and keep you guys posted.
                         Another part of my training is comunicating with you cocksuckers via Facebook or Twitter. You guys are great. You know who you are and theres too many of you to mention. Thank you for fucking around with me. You guys keep me sharp and focus. Thats it!
                         Thank you for reading and have a great Memorial Day weekend! But most importantly, STAY BLACK!

Tonight Flappers Comedy Club...........
June 4th Winston's OB....San Diego
June 8th Brea Improv
June 25th PA    With Joe Rogan
July 1st Las Vegas

Monday, May 9, 2011


            Greetings! How are you on this beautiful Monday morning? I woke up early and got to work. I fed the cats, made some coffee and got my day off on the right foot. I always hated waking up and rushing out the door. I love taking my time in the morning and really thinking about my day, my plans and what I wanted to get out of it. Even when I was junked up, I still woke up early to start scamming. You think about your life and where you got some of your habits from. This waking up shit was something I picked up from my mom.
          My mother's name was Dinorah Valdez. She was born in Havana Cuba. She had 8 other brothers and sisters and they were taught to hustle from an early age. My Grandpa collected junk, refurbished it and the kids sold it door to door. As they got older they sold there stuff to tourist. One night my mom and her younger sister went out to a dance. Some guy started to harrass them and my Mom stabbed the guy. My uncle said she went out with a white dress on and when she returned it was covered in blood. They got her out of Cuba into the States. We had cousins in New York City at the time. While she was there she met some Puerto Rican girl named Sofia Cecilio. My mom borrowed her ID and snuck back into Cuba with that name. When she returned to the States, Sofia became her alias and she used it till the day she died. Some paperwork was in Sofia's name like her Bar, and some paperwork was in her real name Dinorah like our house.
          My Dad and her met in the early 50's. They opened a business called "The OK". A restaurant in Union City, New Jersey on 38th and New York Avenue.While they were running that business they were also running a lucrative betting operation that specialed in Numbers(The Last 3 digits of the Paramutual amount at the local horse track) to the Latino markets. In 63' before I was born they also opened a Bar called, "El Reloj Club" also in Union City on 29th and Bergenline. They were rocking with both hands.
         Then in February of 66' my Father died. My mom immediately sold 'The OK' but kept the Bar. She also kept the numbers operation alive and at the same time, raised me. First in New York City, where I broke her balls to no end. I got to know who my mother was and what she was about at a very young age. One time we were at a Chinese restaurant on Broadway and 86th Street. We would go in there 4 or 5 times a week for lunch. Even then my mom was hung over every day. When you own a Bar your job is to sell drinks she'd say, every once in a while you have to drink a few and even then I understood. We would have the same waiter every day and he would make her this special soup. My mom would give him a few extra bucks and it was usually no problem. On this day there was a different waiter and he kept saying no! Finally my mom offers him money and the guy still has a stick up his ass. They start arguing and my mom stabs the guy with the fork. The guy is bleeding, chinese people are yelling! The kitchen empties but this one Manager comes to our help. The guy knew us. He calmed everyone one down. My mom gave them a few extra twenties and it was squashed. The only thing was we weren't allowed to go in there anymore. I was 5 at the time and I remember it like it was yesterday.
        My mom believed in sticking up for yourself and what you believed in. My mom did a lot of bad things in front of me but she also did a lot of great things that stayed with me forever. I remember going to the bar in the day time. It was packed with everything but Spanish people. Irish, Italian, Polish all at the Bar eating Cuban food and having a good time. Some of them were Mailmen and construction workers, some of them were Doctors and Lawyers eating, drinking then putting in a bet with a lady who knew 10 words in English but the beauty was, they understood one another, it was amazing.
       As a kid my mom taught me the importance of the hustle. My mom would make me get up early and go to work with her. She would make me clean the bathrooms at the bar and at home with no gloves on. She would make me take out garbage and sweep floors then mop them. She would make me stock the beer and the ice. I would work my ass off. As I got older she would make me do laundry, wash dishes and iron clothes at the house.  I would get pissed and yell and scream and asked her why I had to clean and she'd tell me that someday I was going to be married and these were the things a Man did to help his wife.
       My Mom did a lot of good things but a lot of bad things, but you know what? She never hid anything from me and was always 100% honest with me at all times. When ever my mom got home from the bar at 3:20 Am every night she had a bad habit of waking me up. She would yell up, Jose Antonio! When I wouldn't answer she would come up with a BLT or a Cuban Sandwich and tell me about her day. While I was eating, she'd drink her night cap, empty her bra of betting slips, cash and her last bump of the night and then we'd both go to bed. Those moments 3:30 in the morning was our special time. A week before she passed it was Halloween and I had stayed out late. When I got in at 6AM she was up waiting for me. She asked why I hadn't called? I was 15 at the time and I thought I was a man. I told her I didn't need to call because of that reason and she smacked me. She told me a real man would call home. I blew her off and went to sleep. The next morning when I woke up she told me she cooked breakfast. She told me that she was sorry for hitting me but that all she wanted from me was to grow up and be a man, thats it. She didn't cared what I did, but as a man you had certain responsibilities and that was one of them. That being a man wasn't about slinging dick but about acting a certain way. A week later a found her dead. I remember looking at her and hearing those words. The funny thing is she's been gone for 31 years and I hear those words everyday at some point of the day.
         I've done a lot of bad things in my life. One thing I've tried to do to the best of my ability in good and bad has been to live up her expectations. Today is May 9th, its her birthday she would have been 80 years old today................Thank you for reading, have a great week and Stay Black!

Brea Improv Wednesday Night @ 8PM Come on down! 714 482 0700 for tickets!

Wednesday, May 4, 2011


                      What's happening beautiful people? Its a sunny day in southern California so i decided so send some sunshine to you with a great story. Last Sunday an old friend of mine from the old days came by for dinner, his name is Keith Conty. I've known Keith for about 35 years along with his younger brother Glen who in fact, I was tighter with. Keith is a couple of years older than me and was very cool to me when I was growing up.
                     At one point of the night the conversation turned to his brother. He said that in reality Glen had always considered me more of a brother than Keith. I could see the hurt while he was saying it but it was true. Glen and I had met when we were both 13 while we played hoops against each other in a 13 -15 year old all star game. We immediately gravitated to one another and when ever we'd see each other we just laugh.
                     Freshman year we ended up in Algebra together. He was a great football player as was Keith and I was a hoopster so we really avoided drugs except for reefer. Sophmore year my mom passes and he starts dating this wild chick named Regina. She like to party so he started to party. He needed dough and I needed dough so we partnered up and started selling acid, microdot, blodder, 4 way, drops, if it was out there, we had it. We would go up to East Strousberg State in Pennsylvania. There were these 2 chemist kids that were nerds but they had the shit down. We started selling 'Ups" aka Black Beautys and Qualludes and believe me we weren't doing bad. We sold about 500 hits of cid a week, 200 qualludes and a 1000 ups, business was booming and all we had to do was go to school to sell it, what a scam.
                Senior year Cocaine hit and we got involved in that too. We would go to 135th and Amsterdam and get 8 balls for 200.00 then cut it sell it and that was that. We had it going on. We also got into burglaries and drug rips. A ounce here and a pound of weed there. People stated talking and we started to get a little rep. Here we are 18 years of age and we thought we were bigshots. Glen was smart in a way because he got a job to keep up appearances. I was stupid I wouldn't listen.
               The Summer following graduation was amazing. We robbed everything that wasn't locked down. We were involved with a Mob Loan shark who would finance bigger deals for us for a percentage. We had a guy that worked att an appliace store who would tell us about trucks coming in and we would hit them at night for a few air conditioners or refrigerators. We were still selling coke but not the other stuff we had passed it on for a percentage but most importantly, we were out everynight partying big time.
              We were always together. We ate together, we lifted together, we talked about our lives but in all our business dealings we never crossed each other, we really breathed for one another. We would get shaken down by cops for info and in all those years Glen and I never said anything. We had a bond stronger than a brothers bond it was a street bond. We kept hanging till about 85' when the bubble busted. My demon was the drugs, his was the gambling. Without an argument or a misunderstanding we went our own way. We came to a crossroads. He had a daughter with some girl and got promoted to a driver for UPS and his life changed. I moved to Colorado and still kept in touch.
           When I moved back in 94, we would see each other from time to time but our criminal enterprise was over. Even though we were apart I still heard reports about his gambling and I knew I was still snorting. So things hadn't changed that much. I got into Comedy and he raised a child. In 2003 I was in New York shooting "Analyze That" and someone mentioned him so I asked if he had his number? I got the number and called Glen to say hello. He answered and for a minute was happy to hear from me. He took a moment to tell me that his life had changed and that he wanted to forget about his chldhood. He said the things we did were bad. He didn't hate me but he wanted me to respect him and never to call him again. I was shocked but I understood. He told me he loved and and he said God bless you and that was that.
       I got off the phone and I was hurt for a minute and then I understood. I never contacted him again and to be honest I'm not mad. We came across each others lives when we both needed each other and we came through. I have never experienced that level of friendship while we were doing our thing. We were running in the minor leauges of the Mafia and a thousand things could have happened but we always had each others back.
      People could be rich and have a thousand things but this bond we had you can't buy, its a trust knowing that I'm going to be fine. People fake the funk but Glen proved it to me and I saw it. I wish him the best and thank him for some great times but especially for shining a light in my life when it was dark, the same light I shined on him at his time. Thank you for your time and for reading. Have a great week and a great Cinco De Mayo but most important.............Stay Black!