But we, as a nation, we have been traumatized by these horrific laws and people being imprisoned for having weed. And it highlights the absurdity of not only it having been illegal, and so crazy for so many years, but also, highlights how the next generation will not believe our stories about it at all.  There’s a zero percent chance they will understand what we’re talking about. It’d be like trying to tell a kid now, like, “Hey, you know pigeons used to deliver messages to people.” They’d be like, “What the fuck are you saying right now?” It would be the same thing. I’ll sit my son down one day and be like, “You know when I was your age, to get weed, I almost died.”  And he’ll be like, “Why? Was 7-Eleven on fire or something?”  “They didn’t sell it at 7-Eleven. Daddy used to get in cars with strangers.”  “Where are we going?” “Chill out.” “All right.”  The three-hour round trips to buy weed. “What kind of weight were you moving?” Twenty dollars’ worth of marijuana.  That kind of major shit.

I bought weed from a dude in a stand-alone trailer one time. Not a trailer park. A solo trailer. The most terrifying housing situation that exists. Where other trailer people are like, “Get the fuck out of here.” Kick ’em out.  I just walked up to that shit, 15. This dude’s like, “You trying to get a sack?” -I was like, “Oh, shit. Yeah.” - “We could go do that.” I was like, “All right. Cool.” And he goes, “We just need to go get it.” I was like, “You don’t fuckin’ have it?  Isn’t that your sole responsibility?” I tried to play cool, “Let’s go get it.” He goes, “I’ll go get it. You stay here and watch my place.” And I was like…  “Okay.”  Then he goes, “There’s a .357 and a shotgun on my bed. Anybody comes in here, blast ’em.”  Inside? Paralysis.  But what I said was, “That’s what’s up.” -Like, yeah, man. Pow. - *imitates explosion*  Then he stopped at the door. “But don’t shoot my mom.” I go, “Can we get a description before we agree to terms?  How about a height and weight on old mom?”

Not everybody agrees on weed. That’s fine, I don’t care. Like my parents, we don’t agree… They are not cool with weed. I don’t care. They’re old. I still love them.  My dad’s a Vietnam vet, you know. Some of them are cool…  -*man* Yeah! -…with weed. Some of them are not. Some don’t want to talk about Vietnam. -My dad does. - Some are like, “I don’t want to talk about it.” And my dad’s like, “What do you want to know?”  Here’s what I wanted to know as a kid. It’s terrible to ask a stranger this, but this was my own father. And I’d seen a lot of movies. So, I’m like, “You were in the war. Did you kill anybody?” The first time I asked him, he goes, “No, I didn’t.” I go, “All right. Okay.” A few years later, I asked him again. “Did you ever kill anybody?” He goes, “I was a lieutenant. I was in charge of people. It didn’t work like that.” I said, “Okay.”  A few years later, I asked again, “You ever kill anybody?” And he goes, “I threw grenades into bunkers.”  I go, “Were there people in there?” He goes, “There were, yeah.  Just little pieces by the time I got in there.”  Then last year, I go, “Did you ever kill anybody?” He goes, “There’s no better feeling than killing the enemy.”

Whoa. I can remember the first time we ever talked about weed. Because it was Christmas Day. That’s why it stood out. I was 12 years old. I think my sister brought it up. She was like, “I want to smoke weed.” And my dad goes, “You want to know what I think of marijuana?” And I was genuinely curious. I go, “What, Dad?” He goes, “I was at a party one time. And somebody pulled out a marijuana cigarette. And I said, ‘I’m out of here.'”  And I was like, “Cool story, nerd. You got any other ones?”  And he goes, “Well, yeah. One time, I was in Vietnam, and some Viet Cong tried to sell my marines marijuana. So, I found him, and I picked him up by his throat, and I threw him on the ground, and I put my M16 in his face. And I said, ‘If you ever come here again, I’ll fuckin’ kill you.'” And I go, “Do you have any stories in between those two stories?”  Jesus. It’s Christmas, bro. Goddamn.

Two years after that, there was a woodpecker fuckin’ up our house.  This will all make sense. And…  Woodpeckers can really damage your house. I remember my dad paid a guy $500 to patch up that part of the house. A month later, the woodpecker returned. This time, my dad did not call the guy. He woke me up, his teenage son, on a Saturday morning. Picture you’re dead asleep. And my dad, whispering in your ear, with his potent dad breath.  He just whispers in my ear, dead asleep, “I need you to shoot a bird.”  I just go, “I don’t do that.”  And he goes, “Figure it out.”  So, I said, “Okay, Lieutenant.” And I got an air rifle. I shot the woodpecker. I remember, I shot it mid-peck, so it was going… *imitates woodpecker*  Landed in front of me. So much bigger up close. Really big. Red feathers, distinct features. I was blown away. I bagged it up, I threw it away.

I went over to my girlfriend’s house, I started telling her family about it over lunch. I should mention, at the time, my girlfriend’s family ran a wildlife conservation center. So…  I didn’t know my audience. But… I heard a few forks drop, and I look up. And her dad goes, “Oh, my God. You killed a long-billed woodpecker. That’s an endangered species.”  And I go, “Oh.”  I said, “My dad made me do it.”  And he goes, “How does that make you feel, knowing that you did that?” And I said, “There’s no better feeling than killing the enemy. -It was fuckin’ awesome. - I loved it.  Those birds are extinct now. I did that shit. I don’t give a fuck. I’m crazy.”

So…  Oh, man. Don’t you hate everyone? -Um… -  I mean, obviously, I’m not talking about you guys. But, uh…  No, I’ve been on this tour for a long time. Too long. And I meet people sometimes after shows, you know. I meet people, and it’s always a roll of the dice. I’ve been meeting lunatics. I mean, I meet people. I met a guy after a show recently. I’m shaking people’s hands, saying hi. Guy comes up to me, he goes, uh… *mumbles* And I go, “What?”  And he goes… *mumbles* I said, “Where am I from originally?” And he goes… *mumbles*  I said, “I was born in Cincinnati, but I moved around a lot. *man* Yeah! And he goes, “Huh.” *mumbling* And I go, “Are you a person that’s talking to me right now?”  And he goes, “Yeah.”  And then I decipher that what he’s saying is, *in Southern accent* “I’m from Lafayette, Louisiana, about 20 miles south of there. There’s a bunch of Seguras down there. I thought maybe you’re from there too.” And I go, “Oh. Fuckin’ no.”  *mumbling* And then I realized, we have this whole population of Cajun people living amongst us, like they’re one of us.  And they’re not. Why do they have rights?  This guy had the audacity to ask me, he goes… *mumbling*  I said, “Did you just ask me if there’s a Redbox around here?”  *mumbles* I go, “I don’t fuckin’ work here.”  Like, I thought he was moments away from being like, “I do declare. I am a cartoon character and I’ve come to life.”

Here’s all I’m saying. I support building a wall if it’s around the state of Louisiana because those people are out of their fuckin’ minds.  *mumbling* You fuckin’ swamp people, we don’t need you.  What are we gonna miss out on? *in Southern accent* “Where you gonna get your shrimp?” -Oh. - What a contribution.  *in Southern accent* “No more gator, no more shrimp.”  Fuckin’ inbreds. So…  Cracker-ass inbreds, *laughs* we don’t need you.  Fuckin’ tell ’em. They’ll see this shit. Fuck you, cracker. So…

Probably checked in to 400 hotels this year. And when I tell you that this has happened to me more than half a dozen times, I am not exaggerating. Every hotel check-in begins, usually, the same. It’s standard. Hotels, you know, the people at the desk, they go, “Last name?” And this just happened to me. “Last name?” And I go, “Segura.” And the guy goes, “Whoa. Are you Japanese?”  And I go, “Hundred percent, yeah.”  He goes, “We don’t get a lot of Japanese people here. That’s pretty cool.”  So, I have to stop him, and go, “Hey, man. I’m not Japanese.” And he goes, *in gruff voice* “Segura.  Segura! Sounds Japanese.” I go, “That’s ’cause you’re saying it Japanese.  I could be Smith, and if you want to go *in gruff voice*  ‘Smith…’ - -then it’s Japanese.” And he goes, “Well, what are you?” Which is fuckin’ rude.  Can I just say, it’s never important to ask that question. “What are you?” It’s never important to ask that. It’s sometimes important, but… - -not a lot. When is it important? Sushi chef, accountant, 100-meter dash. -Outside of that…

Sometimes it matters, so… I tell ’em. I go, “Segura is Spanish.” And he goes, “That’s weird. You look white.”  And I go, “I am white.” And he goes, “But you’re Spanish?” And I go, “Correct.” He goes, “Do you speak Spanish?” I said, “Yes.” And he goes, “So, you’re Mexican.”  And I go, “No.” And he goes, “I don’t know what’s going on.”  I said, “What’s going on is you failed fuckin’ social studies.  And you’re not too good at geography either.” And then I see his head drop like he feels bad. “Look, man. You understand there’s white people in Mexico, you know that.” -And he goes, “No, I don’t.” - I said, “There’s white people there, black people there, even Asian people there. And if you really want to shit your pants, those Asian people, -they speak Spanish too. - You don’t expect it, but they’re like, ‘Dim sum…’ *speaking in Spanish* -They are… - Asian, and they speak Spanish.” *imitates explosion*

Now, as you can tell, I speak beautiful, perfect Spanish. And… It is to no credit of my own. My mother is Peruvian, and her English wasn’t good. So, she spoke to us in Spanish. And that’s how I picked up on Spanish. I get so many different reactions when people find out I speak Spanish. I either get completely incredulous people who are like, “Holy fuckin’ shit. I can’t believe what’s coming out of your mouth right now. I think I’m gonna piss my pants.” And I’m like, “I don’t speak Aramaic. I speak Spanish. Why is this…?” They’re like, “It’s not supposed to come outta you, bro.” So, I get that reaction, or I get people who are like, “You speak Spanish? Yeah, I speak Spanish too.” I’m like, “No, you don’t.” They’re like, “No, I took four years in high school.” And I’m like, “Yeah, I played football for four years in high school, and the Broncos aren’t giving me a look this week. -So, no, you don’t.” -  Your Spanish sucks. With a capital “M” for mierda.

Now…  I grew up in a Spanish-speaking household, which means I listened to a lot of Spanish music. I only point that out… I think it’s important to point out, when you listen to Spanish music, it influences who you become, like all music would. For me, I used to listen to this singer named Juan Luis Guerra, a Dominican singer. And he would sing, just a lot of love songs. Songs with titles like “Si Tu Te Vas.” Which means, “If you were to leave me.” And the lyrics go: *speaking in Spanish* Which means, “If you leave me, my heart would die.” I’m ten years old and I’m like, “Oh, shit.  I don’t want that to happen.” So, I would balance it out. I would listen to a lot of Todd Shaw. And you might know him by his stage name Too Short. And he would sing songs…  like “Blow Job Betty.” And…  I would go back and forth between these two great songwriters, you know?

*singing in Spanish* ♪ I bust a left nut, right nut In her jaw ♪ ♪ Sperm on her cheeks Is all ya saw ♪ And that’s how I go through life today.  Today, I’m basically like, “Hola…” *grunting*  Sorry, Mom. Now…

By the way, is there any more satisfying feeling than letting an elevator door close on somebody? I did it…  I did it at the hotel earlier. *laughs* I got such a warm rush through my body. It felt like the inside of my body hugged the outside of my body, you know?  I was trying to figure out, “Why does this feel so good?” I think it’s a taste of power. Like most of us, we have no power in our everyday lives. But if you’re alone in an elevator, -you are lord of the elevator shaft. - You get to decide, like a king with his drawbridge. There’s “Hold Open,” and “Close.” And you can watch people walk up and be like, “Mm-mm.” -And you hit that. - And then you see it close, and you’re like… *laughs*  Sometimes, a second later it opens, and you’re like, “Fuck!”  You get nervous energy, like you’re a kid. You’re like, “I’m in trouble.”  It’s always some lady who’s like, “You didn’t see me?” “I don’t even know how this thing works. So many buttons. I tried all of them.”