Just had the following conversation: (sorry, it's kind of long)
Him: You've changed a lot. Looks like your vacation did you some good.
Me: Oh, really? Hm. I don't know what could have changed, but you're the second person in three days to tell me that.
Him: Yeah, you're even more beautiful than before.
Me: (Blushing) (Thinking: Seriously? How is it possible that people say things like this??)
Me: Ummm... thanks, that's nice.
Him: So, we should hang out this weekend. What do you have going on?
Me: Well, I'm busy Saturday night, so what about tomorrow?
Him: Okay.
we discuss the details of this...
Him: You have such a beautiful smile. You should share it with me.
Me: Umm... what?
Him: You should share it with me.
Me: (Thinking, "Okaaaay.). *Big smile in his direction.*
Him: You know, share.
Me: (Confused. Didn't I just grin at you?)
Me: I don't understand.
Him: You know. Share. Like if I have a glass of water, and mine is gone, you give me some of yours. Share. (He's almot yelling now, like that will help me understand the meaning of this very basic concept. I promise, fella, that's not the problem. I KNOW what the verb partager means.)
Me: (Great. He thinks I'm retarded. How am I the one who gets the toddler-style explanation in this conversation?)
Me: Okay.
Him: (Apparently needing to change subjects...) You're so beautiful. I should marry you.
Me: Uuummmmm... (can I un-do our date now? Remember two seconds ago when we had a really wierd communication problem? Let's not get married.). Sorry, that's not going to happen.
Him: Why not?
Me: (Seriously?) Because I am not looking for romance right now. I'm leaving in two months, and long-distance doesn't cut it for me.
Him: But what if you fell in love?
Me: (At this point, almost trying to squash any remaining hope.) Well, I don't fall in love easily or quickly.
Him: Oh. Okay.
First, enough with the wierd marriage comments. I find it to be a big turn-off that a) you think you want to marry me already and b)that your comment about marriage was directly related to a comment about my beauty. That's not a good enough reason to get married.
Second, it makes me feel really awkward that you keep talking about how beautiful I am. And it makes the compliment much less meaningful. I'm glad you think I'm pretty. But ease up a bit, because I still need to learn to gracefully take compliments.
Third, I insisted this evening that I am only looking for friendship. So, let's stick with the plan.
Showing posts with label funny. Show all posts
Showing posts with label funny. Show all posts
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Ye Shall Know Me by My Earrings
Today I was walking down the sidewalk, enjoying the feel of the mist-like rain that was falling on the city, when a young man doing street-contacting for some sort of national organization stopped me.
Him: "Mademoiselle?" (Just as I am walking past him)
Me: "Oui?" (Doing a 180 to face him)
H: How are you?
M: Fine, thanks, how are you.
H: Super.
M: Good.
H: You're not French are you?
M: (Thinking: You CANNOT be serious. I can't even manage to say HELLO without sounding like an American?!)
M: (Out Loud) No, I'm not. (Hoping I look confused as to why he's saying this)
H: Well, it's actually because of your earrings.
M: My earrings? (Oh, of COURSE it was my earrings...naturally.)
H: Yeah. French women don't wear earrings like that.
M: (Out loud) Oh. (Thinking: Oh, yeah. I forgot how French women don't like color.)
H: They look like candy.
M: Hm.
H: Well, since you're not French, I can't give you my spiel, so have a great day!
M: You, too.
So, next time you see someone wearing earrings like these*:

you can safely assume that, though they may not be American, above all... they aren't French.
*Yes, those are the actual "candy" earrings I am wearing today
Him: "Mademoiselle?" (Just as I am walking past him)
Me: "Oui?" (Doing a 180 to face him)
H: How are you?
M: Fine, thanks, how are you.
H: Super.
M: Good.
H: You're not French are you?
M: (Thinking: You CANNOT be serious. I can't even manage to say HELLO without sounding like an American?!)
M: (Out Loud) No, I'm not. (Hoping I look confused as to why he's saying this)
H: Well, it's actually because of your earrings.
M: My earrings? (Oh, of COURSE it was my earrings...naturally.)
H: Yeah. French women don't wear earrings like that.
M: (Out loud) Oh. (Thinking: Oh, yeah. I forgot how French women don't like color.)
H: They look like candy.
M: Hm.
H: Well, since you're not French, I can't give you my spiel, so have a great day!
M: You, too.
So, next time you see someone wearing earrings like these*:

you can safely assume that, though they may not be American, above all... they aren't French.
*Yes, those are the actual "candy" earrings I am wearing today
Thursday, March 19, 2009
A few Awkward Conversation Snippets
Him: Do you like kids?
Me: I love kids.
Him: Do you like playing with kids? (This question was asked as I was answering the first one).
Me: Yes. I have two nephews and a niece, and I love to play with them.
Him: That's good.
Me: Yeah, where I'm from people tend to have a lot of kids.
Him: Really?
Me: Yeah.
Him: How many do you want?
Me: It depends. Two, probably. Maybe up to five depending on my husband and when I get married.
Him: Wow. That's a lot.
Me: Yeah... there are only three in my family. But my neighbor has 12 kids. (Take that).
About two hours later...
Him: If I came to Utah and we had kids, we would only have two.
Me: (thinking: What the H***? Do not pass Go, do NOT collect $200. We would have to do a lot more than eat Lebanese food to have children.)(and, P.S., have you ever even HEARD the word compromise? What about bossy? Chauvinistic?)
Me: Ummm... that's not gonna happen. (Seriously? Are we married already in your mind? Is this what Mormon guys feel like when they go out on dates? I'm starting to have sympathy pains.)
Me: I love kids.
Him: Do you like playing with kids? (This question was asked as I was answering the first one).
Me: Yes. I have two nephews and a niece, and I love to play with them.
Him: That's good.
Me: Yeah, where I'm from people tend to have a lot of kids.
Him: Really?
Me: Yeah.
Him: How many do you want?
Me: It depends. Two, probably. Maybe up to five depending on my husband and when I get married.
Him: Wow. That's a lot.
Me: Yeah... there are only three in my family. But my neighbor has 12 kids. (Take that).
About two hours later...
Him: If I came to Utah and we had kids, we would only have two.
Me: (thinking: What the H***? Do not pass Go, do NOT collect $200. We would have to do a lot more than eat Lebanese food to have children.)(and, P.S., have you ever even HEARD the word compromise? What about bossy? Chauvinistic?)
Me: Ummm... that's not gonna happen. (Seriously? Are we married already in your mind? Is this what Mormon guys feel like when they go out on dates? I'm starting to have sympathy pains.)
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Him: Are there a lot of Indians where you're from?
Me: (thinking: Classic. Yep, and my father is a cowboy. As a matter of fact, we're ranchers. We have a vast plot of land where we herd cattle.)
Me: You mean, the Indians that were the original people in America? Or people from the country India? (I must give him the benefit of the doubt, after all.)
Him: American Indians.
Me: There are some, but I haven't seen a lot of them in my city specifically. I do know a few, though.
Him: I would love to talk to some of them. You know, they are very in tune with nature. They have a lot of respect for nature. I watched a lot of westerns when I was little.
Me: That's great. Yeah, I think Native Americans do have a lot of respect for nature and the Earth, which is wonderful.
Him: Yeah, it's really important to respect the earth and natural resources. To not be wasteful.
A few minutes later:
Him: Do you think I could rent a horse if I came to Utah? Then I could ride it in the mountains.
Me: (laughing on the inside). Oooh, you know what? I don't know that you could. Actually, come to think of it, I believe there are places where you can rent a horse to take up into the mountains.
Him: I would love that.
Me: Uh-huh. (What on earth do you think Utah is like?)
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Me: (casually, as part of our normal conversation while he walked me home) Yeah, I'm not really looking for any kind of relationship while I'm here. I hate talking on the phone, so keeping up any kind of long-distance relationship would be a complete waste.
Him: Yes, I completely understand. I remember you told me you don't like to talk on the phone.
Five minutes later, by my elevator
Him: Can I come up?
Me: No.
Him: Ummm... okay.
(So, when you said, "Yes, I completely understand." what you actually meant was, "I hear the words you're saying, and I know what they mean," not "Yes, I completely understand how you feel and I will respect that.")
--------------------------------------------------------------------
That's it for now, folks. I don't know whether or not I'll be surprised to hear from him on Monday.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Bought a Sugar-Lemon Crepe on Tuesday.
It was deeeeeelicious.
And it came with a bonus gift, too!

Have a great day, everyone!
:)
And it came with a bonus gift, too!
Have a great day, everyone!
:)
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Apparently...
... one of the horses belonging to the Police force got away and went on a fun-run through the streets of Paris this week.
Ha! I just hope no one got hurt. I'm just wondering what all the people on mopeds went home and told their families when suddenly a horse galloped past on one side, and on the other side, a police car sped past with its siren wailing.
This clip from YouTube is called "The Crazy Horse Arrested by the Police." Too funny.
Ha! I just hope no one got hurt. I'm just wondering what all the people on mopeds went home and told their families when suddenly a horse galloped past on one side, and on the other side, a police car sped past with its siren wailing.
This clip from YouTube is called "The Crazy Horse Arrested by the Police." Too funny.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Crisis in the Stairwell
Tonight when I got home from school, I dropped my bag of new school supplies on the bed, and practically turned right around and left again.
I took my little grocery chariot and my ginormo purse, and headed out to the grocery store. I hesitated out on the landing for a second.
Me: Should I take the elevator?
Devil: This chariot-thing is kind of awkward to carry down the stairs.
Angel: But that's so lazy to take the elevator DOWN the stairs. Plus, you always get annoyed when you're just about to get in the elevator but someone calls it up so they can come DOWN to the lobby.
Devil: But... this thing is annoying to carry. It will be so much easier to take the elevator.
Well, the devil was partly telling the truth (the chariot is kind of awkward to carry down the stairs), but ultimately it was all a BIG FAT LIE.
I got into the elevator (no easy task, mind you. Elevators here are made to hold two people at a time max. Maybe 3 if they're children. Getting my big purse, my grocery roller, and myself in there all while holding open the swinging guard door open was awkward enough that I should have just changed my mind and taken the stairs.).
I hit "0" for the Rez de Chausse or Ground Floor. The elevator was about 6 inches from the ground floor when... CLUNK!!... it stopped altogether. The inner doors opened, so I figured everything was fine and pushed the swinging guard door open. Well, I tried anyway. It was locked. I was stuck.
See, the elevator has this safety mechanism that won't allow the swinging guard doors to open on any floor where the elevator is not currently present (this is a safety no-brainer). However, it's a problem when you're almost to a floor, but the elevator won't recognize that fact.
I turned myself around in the miniscule space to read the "in case of a breakdown" instructions. Basically:
1. Push the alarm button continually until...
2. Someone from the elevator safety surveillance company picks up the phone, and
3. Try to figure out everything he says, even though he says it in French at the speed of light over a crackly PA system that's installed overhead.
4. Panic, because you don't know if anyone is ever going to come rescue you, and you don't dare call again because they might get put out and leave you there on purpose out of spite.
5. Recognize to yourself that someone, eventually, will see that you're stuck.
6. Panic again. What if that takes a long time and you have to go to the bathroom?
7. Almost cry at that thought.
8. Show gratitude for the fact that you could have been stuck 4 floors higher up. If the elevator "plunged" 6 inches down, you might get a bruise, rather than the broken bones you'd have after falling 4 floors in a glass elevator.
9. Put in your headphones and just try to enjoy the time you've now got on your hands.
Today in my French class (I know this seems like a harsh transition, but believe me, it's related) we read an except from La Vie Mode d'Emploi (which I assume to mean roughly... Life: A User's Manual, or A User's Manual for Life) by Georges Perec.
In the excerpt we read, he talks about the depressing monotony that takes place in every urban apartment building. How each person barricades themself in their own apartment and lives this solitary life, while all of their neighbors are participating in all of the same little gestures as a part of their day-to-day lives: turning a faucet on and off, setting the table, doing the laundry. And yet, as neighbors, the only things we know about each other are the little echoes we hear through the wall, or the occasional sterile "hello" in the stairway. He talks about how the stairway becomes almost a hostile place, but it's the place of the most "activity" in the entire building (at least the activity that everyone can see).
In general it seems like everyone in my class felt like it was impossible to be friends with your neighbors, even ones that live on your same floor, simply because everyone has this general feeling of distrust and automatic annoyance for their neighbors (at least this is the perception by my fellow students). People just aren't willing to go out of their way to make an effort, for whatever reason.
I found that to be horribly depressing, but I had that whole discussion on my mind when I was stuck in the elevator. I kept wondering to myself if my neighbors would help me, even though I've never met any of them, or even seen a single one of them a second time after our first passing.
About 15 minutes after I got off the PA with the security company, someone finally came into the lobby. It was a woman who looked about my age, and she was pushing a stroller.
"Oh, please let her be nice!" I thought to myself, and asked her if she could help me. I explained that I had called the emergency service, but I didn't understand what they said to me, so I didn't know if they had explained how to get myself out of the elevator, or if they were sending someone, etc.
She, to my complete and utter relief, was incredibly nice.
"Oh, you poor thing!! How long have you been stuck there? 15 MINUTES?? That's terrible!!" (Well, yes, I thought it was quite annoying, but I didn't actually expect that much sympathy for so little time. Now, if I had been stuck for an hour...)
We called the emergency service again, and she clarified with them that they had already dispached a technician, who should be there in another 10-15 minutes.
"Oh, 15 more minutes!!" she seemed so distressed on my behalf, which I have to admit made me really like her, even before the next words out of her mouth. "Do you want me to get you anything? Well, not much will fit through the grate, but do you need anything to eat?"
At that I had to giggle a little on the inside. I thanked her and told her I thought I would be okay. She continued into her apartment right off the lobby, and before she shut the door I could hear her explaining the whole situation to someone...
"There's this poor girl stuck--I mean completely stuck--in the elevator, and she's been there for 15 minutes! And they said they won't even have someone here for another 15..." click.
Two or three minutes later I hear feet on the stairs, and then I hear in the cutest little girl voice(little kids speaking French is just darling, in my opinion) say, "Oh, mom! Look! There's a lady trapped in the elevator!! Mom! Mom! Look at her!! How sad!"
"Yes, honey. I see her. It will be okay."
They finally made it down all of the stairs that wind around the elevator and into the lobby. The mother made sure I was okay and that there was a technician on his way, at which point he actually walked through the door.
I was out, lickety-split, took my chariot, and went on my grocery-getting way.
Getting my 35 pounds of groceries UP four flights of stairs in my wheeled chariot is a different story altogether, though not one that's interesting enough to tell. It was just awkward and sweaty.
Note to self: next time the elevator is broken, just eat out for a couple of days.
I took my little grocery chariot and my ginormo purse, and headed out to the grocery store. I hesitated out on the landing for a second.
Me: Should I take the elevator?
Devil: This chariot-thing is kind of awkward to carry down the stairs.
Angel: But that's so lazy to take the elevator DOWN the stairs. Plus, you always get annoyed when you're just about to get in the elevator but someone calls it up so they can come DOWN to the lobby.
Devil: But... this thing is annoying to carry. It will be so much easier to take the elevator.
Well, the devil was partly telling the truth (the chariot is kind of awkward to carry down the stairs), but ultimately it was all a BIG FAT LIE.
I got into the elevator (no easy task, mind you. Elevators here are made to hold two people at a time max. Maybe 3 if they're children. Getting my big purse, my grocery roller, and myself in there all while holding open the swinging guard door open was awkward enough that I should have just changed my mind and taken the stairs.).
I hit "0" for the Rez de Chausse or Ground Floor. The elevator was about 6 inches from the ground floor when... CLUNK!!... it stopped altogether. The inner doors opened, so I figured everything was fine and pushed the swinging guard door open. Well, I tried anyway. It was locked. I was stuck.
See, the elevator has this safety mechanism that won't allow the swinging guard doors to open on any floor where the elevator is not currently present (this is a safety no-brainer). However, it's a problem when you're almost to a floor, but the elevator won't recognize that fact.
I turned myself around in the miniscule space to read the "in case of a breakdown" instructions. Basically:
1. Push the alarm button continually until...
2. Someone from the elevator safety surveillance company picks up the phone, and
3. Try to figure out everything he says, even though he says it in French at the speed of light over a crackly PA system that's installed overhead.
4. Panic, because you don't know if anyone is ever going to come rescue you, and you don't dare call again because they might get put out and leave you there on purpose out of spite.
5. Recognize to yourself that someone, eventually, will see that you're stuck.
6. Panic again. What if that takes a long time and you have to go to the bathroom?
7. Almost cry at that thought.
8. Show gratitude for the fact that you could have been stuck 4 floors higher up. If the elevator "plunged" 6 inches down, you might get a bruise, rather than the broken bones you'd have after falling 4 floors in a glass elevator.
9. Put in your headphones and just try to enjoy the time you've now got on your hands.
Today in my French class (I know this seems like a harsh transition, but believe me, it's related) we read an except from La Vie Mode d'Emploi (which I assume to mean roughly... Life: A User's Manual, or A User's Manual for Life) by Georges Perec.
In the excerpt we read, he talks about the depressing monotony that takes place in every urban apartment building. How each person barricades themself in their own apartment and lives this solitary life, while all of their neighbors are participating in all of the same little gestures as a part of their day-to-day lives: turning a faucet on and off, setting the table, doing the laundry. And yet, as neighbors, the only things we know about each other are the little echoes we hear through the wall, or the occasional sterile "hello" in the stairway. He talks about how the stairway becomes almost a hostile place, but it's the place of the most "activity" in the entire building (at least the activity that everyone can see).
In general it seems like everyone in my class felt like it was impossible to be friends with your neighbors, even ones that live on your same floor, simply because everyone has this general feeling of distrust and automatic annoyance for their neighbors (at least this is the perception by my fellow students). People just aren't willing to go out of their way to make an effort, for whatever reason.
I found that to be horribly depressing, but I had that whole discussion on my mind when I was stuck in the elevator. I kept wondering to myself if my neighbors would help me, even though I've never met any of them, or even seen a single one of them a second time after our first passing.
About 15 minutes after I got off the PA with the security company, someone finally came into the lobby. It was a woman who looked about my age, and she was pushing a stroller.
"Oh, please let her be nice!" I thought to myself, and asked her if she could help me. I explained that I had called the emergency service, but I didn't understand what they said to me, so I didn't know if they had explained how to get myself out of the elevator, or if they were sending someone, etc.
She, to my complete and utter relief, was incredibly nice.
"Oh, you poor thing!! How long have you been stuck there? 15 MINUTES?? That's terrible!!" (Well, yes, I thought it was quite annoying, but I didn't actually expect that much sympathy for so little time. Now, if I had been stuck for an hour...)
We called the emergency service again, and she clarified with them that they had already dispached a technician, who should be there in another 10-15 minutes.
"Oh, 15 more minutes!!" she seemed so distressed on my behalf, which I have to admit made me really like her, even before the next words out of her mouth. "Do you want me to get you anything? Well, not much will fit through the grate, but do you need anything to eat?"
At that I had to giggle a little on the inside. I thanked her and told her I thought I would be okay. She continued into her apartment right off the lobby, and before she shut the door I could hear her explaining the whole situation to someone...
"There's this poor girl stuck--I mean completely stuck--in the elevator, and she's been there for 15 minutes! And they said they won't even have someone here for another 15..." click.
Two or three minutes later I hear feet on the stairs, and then I hear in the cutest little girl voice(little kids speaking French is just darling, in my opinion) say, "Oh, mom! Look! There's a lady trapped in the elevator!! Mom! Mom! Look at her!! How sad!"
"Yes, honey. I see her. It will be okay."
They finally made it down all of the stairs that wind around the elevator and into the lobby. The mother made sure I was okay and that there was a technician on his way, at which point he actually walked through the door.
I was out, lickety-split, took my chariot, and went on my grocery-getting way.
Getting my 35 pounds of groceries UP four flights of stairs in my wheeled chariot is a different story altogether, though not one that's interesting enough to tell. It was just awkward and sweaty.
Note to self: next time the elevator is broken, just eat out for a couple of days.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Misleading Purchases
Yesterday I stopped by Harmon's to buy

these


these

and these.
The cashier: "Looks like you're headed off to make out with someone."
Well, then.
Me: "Ha. I wish. I'm moving to France, and I don't know if they sell SpinBrushes there, so I thought I'd take a couple of spares."
Maybe if I'm lucky I'll end up buying gum with a purpose while I'm in France. But I'm not holding my (minty fresh) breath.
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Brian Regan
Another comedian I really like is Brian Regan. He's much less scandalous and still really funny. Here are a few good clips from him.
Monday, December 15, 2008
The Squealing Princess
Hayleigh is quite the squealer. She doesn't seem to laugh so much as just squeak and squeal when she's enjoying herself or thinks that something is funny. I can't wait to see what she sounds like when she talks.
I think Dad took this video last week while we were putting up the Christmas tree at Mom and Dad's.
I wish I still thought peek-a-boo was this funny... there's hours of free entertainment to be had there.
I think Dad took this video last week while we were putting up the Christmas tree at Mom and Dad's.
I wish I still thought peek-a-boo was this funny... there's hours of free entertainment to be had there.
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
"There is No Charge for Awesomeness... or Attractiveness"
How great is this line?*
Wouldn't you love to be able to say this to someone? Be on the lookout for good times to say this. I will be looking, too. This sounds like something I would say, anyways, in one of my "I'm pretending to think more highly of myself than I actually do" moments.
Sometimes I think that people who don't know me very well think I'm a total narcissist. And I can't say that I blame them. I frequently speak very highly of myself, mostly as a tongue-in-cheek joke. But most people who don't know me well don't quite get it... so then I just look like I'm an egomaniac.
Oh, well.
Still... don't you think everyone should think of themselves as awesome? I think they should.**
Take the poll on my sidebar and tell me if you think you're awesome!! This could be a life-changing self-affirmation moment. But only if you let it be. :)
*From Kung Fu Panda
**But I think their opinion of themselves should be tempered by the realization that everyone else is awesome and deserves to be heard, respected, and supported, too. I think there are people who have unreasonably elevated opinions of themselves, and as a result, the way they treat other people is just atrocious.
Wouldn't you love to be able to say this to someone? Be on the lookout for good times to say this. I will be looking, too. This sounds like something I would say, anyways, in one of my "I'm pretending to think more highly of myself than I actually do" moments.
Sometimes I think that people who don't know me very well think I'm a total narcissist. And I can't say that I blame them. I frequently speak very highly of myself, mostly as a tongue-in-cheek joke. But most people who don't know me well don't quite get it... so then I just look like I'm an egomaniac.
Oh, well.
Still... don't you think everyone should think of themselves as awesome? I think they should.**
Take the poll on my sidebar and tell me if you think you're awesome!! This could be a life-changing self-affirmation moment. But only if you let it be. :)
*From Kung Fu Panda
**But I think their opinion of themselves should be tempered by the realization that everyone else is awesome and deserves to be heard, respected, and supported, too. I think there are people who have unreasonably elevated opinions of themselves, and as a result, the way they treat other people is just atrocious.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
"Never" Coming Back
In a recent conversation with my best friend, Happy, she said the following about me moving to France.
"You know you're never coming back, right? You say you're coming back, but we BOTH know you're never coming back."
Well, then.
I wish I could say with any certainty that that was true. But I can't. I've got a plane ticket to come back, and my visa will expire at a certain point (assuming I ever get one).
So unless I randomly decide to stay in France and do a Master's program (which apparently I can do, and they will just extend my visa while I'm still in France), I'll be back at the end of June and looking for a job.
"You know you're never coming back, right? You say you're coming back, but we BOTH know you're never coming back."
Well, then.
I wish I could say with any certainty that that was true. But I can't. I've got a plane ticket to come back, and my visa will expire at a certain point (assuming I ever get one).
So unless I randomly decide to stay in France and do a Master's program (which apparently I can do, and they will just extend my visa while I'm still in France), I'll be back at the end of June and looking for a job.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Russell Peters...
... is sooooo funny. Oh, man.
His parents are from India, but he was born and raised in Canada. The guy is just hilarious. I laugh out loud every time, and I don't think I've laughed so hard I actually cried in a LOOONG time, but I did when watching some of his clips.
Disclaimer: He does say some things that are wildly inappropriate. And he bases a lot of his humor around cultural differences/stereotypes, so if you are offended by things like that he's probably not the comedian for you. He does swear once or twice in the first video below.
His parents are from India, but he was born and raised in Canada. The guy is just hilarious. I laugh out loud every time, and I don't think I've laughed so hard I actually cried in a LOOONG time, but I did when watching some of his clips.
Disclaimer: He does say some things that are wildly inappropriate. And he bases a lot of his humor around cultural differences/stereotypes, so if you are offended by things like that he's probably not the comedian for you. He does swear once or twice in the first video below.
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