Joe Rogan - Joey Diaz on His First Day in New Jersey

Sticky Charlie got it. I'm like, what was his name? Mr. Martini. Mr. Martini? Mr. Martini got it. Like when you first moved to 88th Street, that's the first thing the kid would tell you. Like I was five. Keep away from this guy? Don't fuck with Mr. Martini. Oh Jesus, he's a monster in your neighborhood. Mr. Martini wore a black suit with a white shirt and black shoes. His wife would die. And he owned a building on 88th Street in the middle. And he was angry. And he would sweep. And you know like when you were a kid and you stopped in front of somebody's house, he would always come out and go, get the fuck out of here you little fucking douchebags. Get the fuck out of here. And I was Cuban. I didn't understand the language. I didn't really understand what he was saying. I understood the anger. But I didn't understand the language. And he would come out with a broom. Get the fuck out of here. One day I realized, I'm like, this motherfucker wants to rock. So while my other friends didn't want to fuck with him, I'm like, we're going to fuck with this motherfucker. So all Cubans have L.A.W. in front of their house. And there's something that your mother throws change in every day. It's like a good luck statue and I would steal the change. And bring it downstairs and I would look at the poorer kids. And I would go, come in for a second. You want a quarter? And they would go, yeah, we'll get a quarter. And I would take a quarter and throw it. Where Mr. Martini lived. He lived like in a basement area. He ran the whole bed. He'd be right there. And he'd chase us. We'd go, Mr. Martini, he sucked my weenie and he fucking chased us. And Doug, Doug, he chased us. And if he caught you, he would fucking hit you like 50 times. But we fucked him up. We would fuck him up. Doug, I saw some shit. The first day, like, New Jersey to me was a completely, that was like Mars to most people. Like, most people listen to me and go, you grew up someplace that doesn't exist. I'll bring eight people to fill these chairs to tell you about the parents and the people and the situations. But the first day I went out in my hometown of North Bergen, I saw me and Joe Rogan fight. And even though I had Joe Rogan on his back, I saw Joe Rogan's father come down the stairs, pull me off Joe Rogan, smack me, punch me, kick me, throw me on the floor and make his kids go in. That was my first experience ever in North Bergen, New Jersey. I saw Mr. Robson come downstairs. He took Anthony off his son, threw him off, smacked him in the fucking face, Joe Rogan at 2.5 to fucking noon. In 90 degree heat, punched him in the stomach and told him to go home, you little guinea fuck. Go home, you little guinea fuck. Say that now. They'll throw you in jail for two years. He told him, go home, you little guinea fuck. And Anthony looked at him crying a little bit. He picked up his shirt. He went like this, like he took the thing off, and he goes, I'm calling my fucking father. You're fucking dead, motherfucker. Call your fucking guinea fucking greaseball father. Dad, I dare you. He's probably a greaseball just like you. And I'm sitting there going, I want to see how this plays out. And next thing you know, two cop cars pull up. And it's one cop car that's unmarked, and it's another one that's marked. And it's a big fucking Italian looking detective. Like, you know, the short stumpy Italian. And he comes out of his car, he puts his fucking jacket on, it barely fits. But till this day, I remember the more the delz he had on his hand. And he goes, what the fuck's going on here, kids? And the little Italian kid comes up and he goes, Mr. Fucking, Mr. Robson came down here and he fucking smacked me in the face. These are my witnesses. Tell him, then he fucking hit me. And I'm sitting there going, oh, this is going to get fucking good. And the next thing you know, the fucking cop, the detective tells the cop, go look around, see if there's tickets. Go spread tickets. And he goes, where's the sky live? And he goes, yeah. And he goes, he grabbed all the other kids, and he goes, tell me what happened. And he goes, Anthony and him were fighting, and he came down here and he fucking pulled them. And at this time, they know that the cops are there. And Mr. Robson, I kind of opened his door to be kind of tough. Like he's not coming up here. He's going, no, I'm going to fucking knock him out too. And the cop goes, okay, okay, okay. And he grabbed the kid and he goes, you're okay, right? And he goes, he just hit me in the face. And he fucking walked up the stairs, bro. Took him five minutes, got to the top thing. The guy opened the fucking door. And this guy will put his hand in, pulled them out, fucking put them against the fucking thing on the second floor with everybody out, and just started punching him. Punching him, punching him like fucking John Jones when he's got you down, he's hitting you with those shots to the head until the guy killed over and he started kicking him with the fucking thing. Bam, bam, bam. And that kid goes, don't you ever fucking hit my son again. Let's get out of here. And that was how I became friends with the family. Because as soon as he came down, he goes, who's this kid? He goes, he's the spit kid. He's the only one that jumped in. He goes, you want to come home for dinner? And that was the beginning of my life when I got in that police car. Wow. Because I did whatever the fuck I want. Look at this. Till today. This is fucking crazy. And you know me and you don't fuck around. What do you got over there? This is still, that's what happened in 1970 fucking three. And what's that today? That's a gold card. What does this card do? It does what it needed to do. It does whatever I needed to do. You know what I'm saying? You're a family member. Why? Because of that fucking day. Because I'm the only guy that jumped in. I like how cops have things like that. A family member. A family member. You get a secret card you could get from one of your buddies who's a cop. Show this. You gotta get pulled over. Put this on your license plate. You got this little sneaky little thing. So now we're tight. I'm eating at the house. I'm eating fucking pasta with fresh puts of that on the middle. I could open up the front door whenever I want. I call the mama. She makes cream puffs. So I'm tight with them. I'm the only Cuban in 1974 that's even walking in there. So now we're in the sixth grade. And we're playing kickball. McKinley had no fuck. Remember two months ago Ellen DeGeneres donated $50,000 to a grammar school. It was my grammar school in North Bergen, New Jersey. Two months ago. Yeah. Ellen DeGeneres donated $50,000. When I went to that grammar school, those motherfuckers didn't have a gym joke. You shovel snow to get a B. Shoveled snow. You shovel snow. When it snowed out, you shovel snow. That was part of your physical education. Yeah. And you did push-ups and sit-ups and fucking math. That's like Russian shit. Bro, and they had a fucking bar in the kitchen where you did pull-ups. No, no, they were brutal. Finally they built a gym in the eighth grade. Yeah. But before that, we played kickball outside in the fall. One day we were playing kickball. And I forget this, the guy's name was Mr. Tortora. That was the teacher's name. Was he a good guy? Yeah, he was a good guy. He was a good little gym teacher. And we're out there and we're playing kickball. And again, that little Italian kid, the one that invited me to his house, his father beat up the fucking dude. We're playing kickball and he's throwing the ball. And every time I swing and I miss, he's calling me, Coco Carremoco. That means I'm a boogie face in Spanish because it rhymes with Coco, right? And the teacher keeps going, Anthony, I told you a thousand times, none of that spick shit's allowed here. This is the sixth grade, North Bergen, New Jersey. That's a teacher, a teacher sit down. This is a school teacher. Mr. Tortora's like, hey, none of that spickeroo shit over here, right? This is America, right? Really? Oh, bro, at that time, that was a big issue because a couple weeks before that, a guy named Tortora was a baseball coach and he threw a kid off for speaking Spanish on the bus. He told him, he goes, no Spanish on the bus. And the kid goes, fuck you. And he spoke Spanish and he threw him off like 20 miles from the house. It became a big problem in my hometown. They were going to kill the fucking dude. But I remember going home. My mom was going, he's talking the truth. In the house, you speak Spanish. This is America. Outside, you speak American. So my mom cut me off right there. Like, I went home, like, ready to fucking be like a protester. And she was like, that don't happen here. We're Americans. He wants to talk Spanish, talk it in the house. I think there's a real benefit to being able to speak more than one language. Definitely is. Yeah. It's a complete different mindset. I'm happy I do it. I speak to my daughter in Spanish. If I tell my ass, mercy something, I re-ask her in Spanish. If I tell her something, I retell her in Spanish. Nice.