Sean Patton - Cumin - This Is Not Happening - Uncensored

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<i> - I didn't even say anything.</i> I just leaned out of the kitchen... Showed him the jar... And right there, next to his girl, he's all-- [giggling] "Fuck you." <i> [dark electronic music]</i> <i> ♪ </i> <i> [cheers and applause]</i> - Welcome to "This Is Not Happening." I'm your host, Ari Shaffir, and today, all the stories are about karma. [cheers and applause] A veteran of the show. You guys have seen him. If you've seen the YouTube clips, you've seen this guy. He's absolutely hilarious. I'm glad he's back. Please give it up for my friend and yours, <i> Mr. Sean Patton, everybody.</i> <i> [cheers and applause]</i> - My first-ever apartment was in New Orleans in the year 2002. My roommate and I paid $535 even. Not individually. One lump sum, all utilities included. A two-bedroom, two-bath, two-balcony apartment. And I still remember, like, confronting our landlord, like, "Hey, can you shave off that extra $5? Give us a chance to survive?" And I--we mo-- I moved in-- I think everyone's first roommate is a friend. Mine was not; I went to high school with this guy. Didn't really know him. We moved in in the morning, 'cause it was all his shit. Nothing was mine. or is that roommate, like, you got the couch. You have the TV; you have the table. I have the mattress and the box that I will reuse. But the previous tenant had left us a gift, okay? Now, by a round of applause, who is not familiar with what is known as Tony Chachere's? Not familiar, no. Tony Chachere's-- it's a creole spice. It's, like, a Louisiana, New Orleans version of an Old Bay. It's a--you put, you know, you put it on a old tennis shoe, and make it taste like a filé gumbo. You know what I'm saying, y'all? You put it on a rubber band sandwich, make it taste like a shrimp po' boy. Montalayo. [laughs] Jeez, I can't... side note--wait, let's put the story aside for a second. That's a really fucking annoying thing about being from southern Louisiana, is people are like, "But where's your accent?" Like they want you to-- "Oh, man, I tell-- boy, I tell you, "the other day, I went down there gator huntin', "and I cut me open a alligator, "and it--its tummy was full of crawdads. "It was full of crawdads "that were hidin' from Hurricane Katrina. "I was like, that storm done gone all the crawdads, "and then that gator came back to life, "bit my hand off like I was Captain Hook. "Jesus, I had to drive to-- "I had to drive to the hospital with no hand, drinkin' beers, "and the sheriff done pulled me over on a boat. "He pulled me over on a damn boat. "I said, 'Sheriff, how you got that boat on land?' "He said, 'I didn't. You got your truck in the water.' [scoffs]<i> Laissez les bon temps rouler."</i> [chuckles] I'm disappointed too. I wish I spoke like that. Truthfully, a true New Orleans accent just sounds like-- take a fuckin' East Coast guy, "Why you askin' where I'm from? Why is it your business? I'm from Hoboken." Take that guy, give him a Valium. "Now you got a New Orleans accent. "I don't remember where I'm from. "What's a Hoboken? You can fish on it?" All right, back to the story. So the previous tenant left behind a gift for us. It wasn't Tony Chachere's. I just like talking about that stuff. It's delicious. But it was a spice. He left behind a jar of cumin. Right, cumin. You know it. It's very com-- if--if you ever had a curry or a chili--it's-- if you--if you've tasted chili, you've tasted cumin. And here's a little secret: if you--if you're broke, and you got a hot dog, but you can't afford a chili, just sprinkle some cumin on that hot dog. It'll make it taste exactly like you rolled it in dirt. It's not a good stand-alone spice at all. It really isn't. That's probably why he left it behind. But upon discovering that jar, I said to my new roommate, "Hey, look at this big-ass jar of 'come-in.'" It's spelled c-u-m-i-n, and I know how it's pronounced, but first of all, 'come-in.' It's, like, an ejaculation joke, and I was in my early 20s, when ejaculation jokes were very funny. Now, in my 30s, ejaculation jokes are extremely funny. They've gotten funnier. But also, one of my favorite gags is to purposefully mispronounce things, because I love rousing the grammar dragons. [growling] Gnash your teeth, grammar dragon. "Hey, look at this big-ass jar of 'come-in.'" I expected him to, you know, worst-case, be like, "Shut up. It's pronounced cumin." Or who knows? Best case, now we got a new inside joke between roommates that we can have for the next six months unless we extend our lease to a year. You know how it goes. So I said it. "Hey, look at this big-ass jar of 'come-in,'" and he goes, "What? "What? "It's cumin! "God damn it. It's cumin. Don't say that shit." Exactly. I was like, "Oh." Whom did I just move in with? And now, I was obsessed with that moment, and before I knew it, it was lunchtime, and he ordered a Hawaiian pizza, and I was like, "Oh. "Hawaiian pizza. "You know what's delicious "when you put it on Hawaiian pizza? Some 'come-in.'" And right away, like clockwork, "Seriously? Don't fucking say that to me again. "It's cumin. You say it right, or you don't say it." And then, "Grow up." And I was like, "Well, now I'm never going to grow up, am I?" You just Peter Pan-ed me. I am a boy for life. Later--later that day, his girlfriend comes over. It's, like, evening time. The--it's her first time in the new apartment. They're sharing a pint of ice cream, and I didn't even-- I didn't even say anything. I just leaned out of the kitchen... Showed him the jar... And right there, next to his girl, he's all-- [giggling] "Fuck you." And she's, of course, like, "Huh? What?" And he explained it. "He thinks it's funny to pronounce cumin 'come-in.'" And then she starts laughing. Because she has a sense of humor. And then he turns on her, like, "God damn it. "That's not funny! It's cumin!" And he's yelling, and I didn't see much of her after that. And I had to leave, because their fight got pretty loud and pretty awkward. And I went out drinking with friends, and we're--I'm like, "You got to see this. You got to see this shit." And I bring them back to the apartment. It's, like, 3:30 in the morning. I'm like, "Welcome to the new digs, fellas. "Can I offer you... some Ritz Crackers and 'come-in'?" And like clockwork, he comes out of his room. "Hey! What the fuck? "It's cumin. Say it. Say it." And we're all laughing our ass off, and he's like, "I fucking hope you all die one day." Well, we will. Nice one. Nice one, man. And all he had to do was just not react just once, and I'd have forgotten about it, but now I had no choice. I was having dreams about how I was gonna mess with him. And so the next morning, we're both up early. Our new--our first day in the new apartment, first morning, okay? He's up early, 'cause he was still in class-- in school--he had to go to class. I'm up early to go to work, and he's sitting down to a fresh plate of scrambled eggs, and I was like, "Hey." "You know what would be delicious on those scrambled eggs?" And he gives me a look that I can only describe as murder fuck. It's a look you give someone when you want to murder them and then sexually violate their dead body so their soul can't go to heaven. Murder fuck. It looks like... [growling] So he gives me that look. [growling] So I know I can't say "come-in." Got to throw a knuckleball at him, so I said, "Some Tony Chachere's. I bought some last night. It's in the kitchen." And then, he went from, like... [growling] To "Ah." Smiling, because that's what a Tony Chachere make you do, baby. It's so delicious. [laughs] You put it on a crazy person, turn him into a friend. [laughs] <i> Enchanté.</i> And now, he is in the kitchen, digging around, and I hear him opening and closing all the cabinets. He's like, "Where is it?" "Oh, it's--uh, it's in the-- it's in the cabinet." "Which one?" "The one above the George Foreman grill." "Where? I can't find it." "It's in the top part. There." "Where?" "Behind the 'come-in.'" And what normally followed that word, as I established, was a fit of rage. Only this time, that's not what happened. This time, it was total silence, which was scary. 'Cause after a while, I was like, "Oh, God, am I gonna walk in there "and find him just on the ground "with his wrists slit? Bleeding it out." Like, "You went too far. "You went too far. "It's pronounced cumin, and now you'll never forget." [groaning] "Oh, Lord, I'm come..." [applause] Thankfully, no, that's not what happened. Instead, he comes out, holding the jar, staring me down with the hatred of a thousand men, and then throws it at me, 'cause he just didn't-- it--it was--it was like he just released too early, and it bounced off the wall and just landed, like, right there between us on the carpet, and I look up at him, and he's now crying. Hatred. Hatred tears. You can tell when they're hatred tears, 'cause they're boiling with rage, and they evaporate mid-cheek. And he says, "I'm--I'm going to class, and then I'm fucking moving out," and he storms off. Now, I had just been attacked for no reason. First order of business in that moment was to eat those scrambled eggs. They were fresh, and I was hungry, and I doused 'em with that Tony's. It was right there by the microwave. I'm surprised he didn't find it. Second order of business, call into work sick. I couldn't bus tables. I was traumatized. I couldn't handle silverware in that mental state. Third order of business, a little well-deserved R and R. Plop down on the couch-- his couch, mind you. Turn the TV on-- his TV. Didn't know if any of that stuff was gonna be there by the end of the day. I'm watching TV--oh, look, a "Saved by the Bell" marathon. Oh, wow, season three, while they're at the Malibu Sands Beach Resort. Oh, they're in bikinis. Well, I've earned this. A little release. And there I am, furiously masturbating on his couch, watching his TV, and right as I near climax, that jar catches my eye. It's still laying there on the ground, and now--I-- that's why I was in this moment, so it was like a lover to me, and I exclaimed, "Oh, 'come-in,'" right as I began... [chuckles] Comin'. And I shouted it, so the furniture would know what was going on. And then the front door swung open, and there's a UPS delivery guy standing there... Holding a package. Sees me holding my package, and says, "Oh, fuck no," and slams that door. Couple of things. Yes, he caught me masturbating. Fine. But he scared me, frightened me, and it happened right as I began orgasming. Have you ever been frightened right as you begin to come? Oh, man, is it great. Oh, man, is it so badass. Just--oh, it's so much semen. Spew forth from my loins. I don't know what happens. Maybe your brain senses danger, and orders a mandatory full evacuation of your testicles. Run, evacuate, go. Save the seed. The mother ship is in danger. There was so much. And then I just had to sit there quietly, like, "Is he still-- is he still there? Oh, God." And I finally went and looked out of the peephole, and yep, he's standing there, sort of swaying, and I was like, "God damn it." So I lit a cigarette. Thought it would make me look more badass--lit a cigarette. I'm like, "Okay, let's do it," and I open the door, and right away, he's like, "Listen, I'm not into no goddamn gay shit. "I got a wife; I got a family, and you're too young." I know, right? Why--why--what's that for? But now, I'm defensive. Puffing on my cigarette, like, "Hey, man. "It's a fucking private apartment. "Why don't you try knocking? You ever heard of knocking?" And then he doesn't say anything, and angrily goes, "I didn't knock, because you said 'Come in.'" "Because you said, 'Come in.'" [cheers and applause] That's the kind of coincidence that made man invent God. If I were a religious person, that would have been my mind-set--like, well, the Lord clearly does not want me touching myself. Thus why he sent this brave soldier to interrupt me whilst doing the devil's diddle. Like, I couldn't stop-- like, in that moment, like, he was about to knock. I didn't say "Come in." I was--I was-- having sex with a spice. I said, "Oh, comin'," which sounds exactly like "Oh, come in." Gee--all I could think about in that moment was my roommate. Like, he's right. I should have pronounced it correctly. If I'd have been like, "Oh, cumin." He'd have heard that and been like, "What'd he say? Oh, cu-- I should knock." And I would later find out, by the way, the reason my roommate got so pissed is because his--his childhood pet was a cocker spaniel named Cumin. And so when I said, "come-in," it reminded him of Cumin, and he got sad that I was mispronouncing it. Fuck you. And then this UPS guy, he slams this clipboard in my chest. He's like, "You have to sign for it," and now, I'm just backpedaling. I'm like, "Look, I thought you were my girlfriend," and he interrupts me; he's like, "You ain't got no damn girlfriend." "You're right. I do not." And then he gives me the package, says "Have a nice day," and then finally I looked-- finally looked at the package. It wasn't addressed to me. It was not addressed to my roommate. It was addressed to who I assume was the previous tenant, so that meant it was addressed to me now. And I open it and almost collapse at what I see before me. Can you guess? - Cumin. - No. It was a spice rack. If the previous moment made me believe in God, that made me believe that God is capable of bragging. Thank you guys very much. [cheers and applause]
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Channel: Comedy Central
Views: 4,451,628
Rating: 4.8708019 out of 5
Keywords: Sean Patton comedian, Sean Patton videos, This Is Not Happening, watch This Is Not Happening, Ari Shaffir, uncensored, exclusives, housing, gifts & presents, food, men/women, dating, insults, arguments, masturbation, smoking, religion, stand up comedy, stand up comedians, funny video, stand up videos, funny jokes, funny clips, hilarious videos, hilarious clips, best stand up comedy, watch stand up comedy, comedian, funniest stand up comedians, stand up comic, best comedians
Id: zNlKR2wrGZU
Channel Id: undefined
Length: 18min 20sec (1100 seconds)
Published: Tue Aug 30 2016
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