Dave Chappelle Quotes

The fourth time I met OJ Simpson. The fourth time is not the funniest time, but it was the last time I'd see The Juice. For some reason, I was at the Kentucky Derby. It's a very long story. This is right after I quit Chappelle's Show in spectacular fashion. There was a party hosted by Michael Jordan, and every athlete I'd ever admired was in that room. Yes. And then I saw a familiar face by the bar, standing there, drinking alone. It was Chris Tucker. Now, you have to remember, at this time, we were both technically missing. And we went over and we're talking with one another, and motherfuckers were amazed to see us together. Seeing me and Chris Tucker at that point would be like seeing Bigfoot riding a unicorn. You wouldn't believe that's what you were seeing. And then, through all the gawkers, a familiar face pushed through the crowd. Here he was again. The Juice. He had his camera ready, he was like, "Dave, Chris. Good to see you guys. Hey, come on guys, let's all get together for a picture." And at the same time, me and Chris were like, "No. I can't do that. Sorry, Juice, my career is too flimsy to survive a picture with you."

My wife is Asian. She's Filipino. Alright, well, okay, so that explains it. Now you know why you see me at all those Filipino events. I'm not there picking up pussy, I'm dropping some off.

When you hear somebody call you "brother" too much, something terrible is about to happen. "Excuse me, brother. Brother?" And then I looked back, and the motherfucker had a tuxedo with the kente cloth tie. I said, "uh oh." He said, "I just want to ask you a couple questions." I said, "What publication are you with?" He said, "Me? I'm with The Daily Bongo." I said, "Daily Bongo? What the fuck? Who the fuck reads this?" He said, "Listen, brother, I just want to ask you a quick question. You understand that this year, this is a boycott for the Oscars. So I'm just wondering what made you, of all people, cross the motherfucking picket line and be here tonight?" I said, "Boycott? Nigga I haven't been working in ten years. What do you mean, boycott? I've been on strike, y'all niggas didn't stop working. I had to watch fucking Key and Peele do my show every night!"

There's a few reasons you don't see black people at my shows. One is because, obviously, black people have slower internet connections. I mean, that would be my guess. I don't know.

Everybody's mad at police now. I watched that - you see that shit on Netflix, Making a Murderer? The Steven Avery story? Yeah well if you haven't seen it, check it out. Steven Avery is in more trouble than any white person in the history of the United States has ever been in. In a justice system designed for him to thrive, he's failed miserably twice. I can't even wrap my mind about it. If Making a Murderer was about a black dude, that shit would be called "Duh!" Of course everything would go wrong.

I got myself extorted, which happens in this business. I come home from the road. There was a FedEx sitting on the kitchen table, and it was addressed to me, so I opened it. I don't know who delivered it. And there was a videocassette inside, with a note written on it that said "Gotcha." Oh, my god. Can you imagine? I freaked out. I tore the whole house apart, trying to find a VCR. I hadn't seen a tape in, like, over a decade.

Name-calling does not break the modern black man. That's not gonna do the trick. I don't give a fuck about that. Like, if I went to Kentucky Fried Chicken, and for some reason, everyone behind the counter had a Ku Klux Klan hood on top of their head, what do you think I'm gonna do in this day and age? Run out of Kentucky Fried Chicken? Not if I'm hungry. I'll go straight to the front. "Hey, man. Let me get a two-piece." I don't give a fuck what he says. "You want a biscuit with that, nigger?" "I thought it came with a biscuit. What's all this attitude? I want a two-piece. Chop, chop. You know what it is." But I'm not gonna be mad. Why would I be mad? He's the one that's gotta work at Kentucky Fried Chicken, not me.

Remember Paula Deen got fired from the Food Network? If you know anything about show business, it is really hard to get fired from the fucking Food Network. And they dropped that bitch like a hot potato. All because she called somebody an N-word thirty years before she had a show. I don't know who she said it to, but whoever it was was just looking at her like, "I'm gonna get you for this, bitch." That shit came back thirty years later like a Bill Cosby rape and sunk her battleship. And every black person was mad, but we weren't, like, that mad. It was more confusing than it was infuriating. I was just like, "well, how is this bitch gonna call me a nigger when she taught me how to fry chicken? That's not fair."

Ebola was in Texas. Ebola made a visit. Killed that man in Dallas. Five days, that man melted to death. What happened to the brother in Dallas? "Where was the secret serum?" is what we all said. I remember in the beginning of Ebola, there were two American doctors that got sick in Africa. They flew them in a private jet straight to Atlanta, to the CDC. I didn't even know CDC saw patients. There, it was said, they administered what The New York Times called "a secret serum." I don't know what's in it. It's just like Colonel Sanders' recipe. But both of these motherfuckers survived. These doctors, thank god, are healthy. They are out there somewhere tonight, at Whole Foods, touching vegetables, walking around. Everything's okay. "Hey, Frank. How are you?" "Oh you didn't hear? I had Ebola last week. But uh, I'm doing alright now. I was bleeding out of my eyes and anus, so I got concerned, but I'm okay." What happened to the brother in Dallas? They just rubbed some vicks on that nigga's chest. "Good luck, little buddy."

You know, I was in Santa Fe the other night, and a motherfucker threw a banana peel at me. Yeah, that didn't feel so good. Of course, it was a white person. Not to indict the whites, I'm just saying. Not to profile. And then, not only did he throw a banana peel at me, but, uh, it was premeditated. You could tell. You could tell, the peel was too brown. You know what I mean? You didn't eat that banana recently, motherfucker. You had that shit waiting on me.

Stop worshipping celebrities so much. Just don't listen, don't pay attention. I remember, right around September 11th, Ja Rule was on MTV. That's what they said, they said "We got Ja Rule on the phone. Let's see what Ja's thoughts are on this tragedy." Who gives a fuck what Ja Rule thinks at a time like this, nigga, this is ridiculous. I don't want to dance, I'm scared to death. I want some answers that Ja Rule might not have right now. You think when bad shit happens to me, I'll be in the crib like, "Oh my god, this is terrible. Could somebody please find Ja Rule, get ahold of this motherfucker, so I can make sense of all this? Where is Ja?"

I went to Disney World with my kids, which is a big deal for me. I don't get to see my kids so much. I do Chappelle's Show twenty hours a day, sleep for like, half an hour, raise my kids for ten, twenty minutes, and then I go back to work. Now, this particular day, I got to hook up the kids, we went to Disney World. Everybody at the park, fucking everybody, was like "Hey! Hey! I'm Rick James, bitch! Hey, I'm Rick James, bitch." It's like, "Hey man, hey, you mind not calling me a bitch in front of my kids? Time out, motherfucker. Can we take a day off?" Even Mickey Mouse did it. I said, "this is the most unprofessional shit I have ever seen in my life." I was fed up. I caught that motherfucker with an uppercut. Bop! Knocked his head clean off. Everybody was screaming. "Oh my god, oh my god! Mickey Mouse is Mexican!"

I know what you drink. See how quiet it got? Grape juice. Surprise, motherfuckers! You didn’t know I knew about grape juice, did you? Oh, don't play dumb with me. Like, "ah, what is it?" A lot of black people don’t have the privilege of knowing about grape juice, because they have grape drink. It's not the same formula that you get. Ain't no vitamins in that shit. You might have one of your black friends over: "Todd, Todd, would you care for a glass of grape juice?" "What? Nigga, what the fuck is juice? I want some grape drink, baby. Mmm. It’s purple." "I don't think I know what 'grape drink' is." "What?" "I have some apple juice, if you want." "What the fuck is juice? I want some apple drink. It's green." Remember that commercial for Sunny Delight when all the kids run in from outside playing and they all run to the fridge? "All right, I got some purple stuff, some Sunny D..." As soon as they say "Sunny D," all the kids go, "Yeah!" Watch the black kid in the back. If you ever see that commercial again, look at that black kid. He be like, "I want that purple stuff." That's drink, nigga, that is drink. They want drink. They don't want all them vitamins, man. They want drink. Sugar, water, purple. That's the ingredients: sugar, water and of course, purple.

"Excuse me, I don't mean to be rude, are you an Indian?" And he was cool. "Yes. Yes, I'm an Indian." Still didn't believe him. I had to test him to be sure. This is fucked up, but I had a gum wrapper in my pocket, so I balled that shit up and I threw it on the floor. And a single tear came out of his eye. I said "oh, shit!" I had so many questions.

I had a crackhead break my car window one time, broke it. You know what he stole? A fucking candy bar I had lying on the seat. That's all he took. A goddamn candy bar. I was so mad, I drove around the neighborhood for five hours, looking for a crackhead with chocolate on his face. I did that. I finally found him, I grabbed that motherfucker and said, "Hey man! What's all this chocolate on your face, motherfucker?" He looked confused. "Chocolate? This is doo-doo, baby!"