Weekend Update Punkie Johnson on Her Familys Holiday Rules

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Michael Che

Punkie Johnson

[Starts with Michael Che in his set]

Michael Che: After two years, TSA inspects family holiday gatherings, to be back to pre pandemic levels. Here to talk about her family this holiday is Punkie Johnson.

[Punkie Johnson slides in]

Punkie Johnson: Hey. What’s good, Mr. Che?

Michael Che: I’m alright. So, you’re traveling to see your Family this Christmas.

Punkie Johnson: I am. They all down in New Orleans. Yo, I got a big family and we got lots of holiday rules. So, let’s start off with the most important, food. Like, the oldest person must always make the potato salad because they have lived, Che. They know the secret ingredient isn’t Aiza Paprika. It’s pain, dog. You can’t make real potato sad unless you struggle with bone disease, high blood pressure. Oh, you grew up drinking from a segregated waterfall.

Michael Che: That’s why my uncle Laiden makes salad. He don’t got a foot.

Punkie Johnson: Damn! He ain’t got no foot?

Michael Che: Nope.

Punkie Johnson: That potato salad must be delicious.

Michael Che: It is, Punk. So, does everybody bring something?

Punkie Johnson: Yeah, man .Everybody, except for my shady uncle. All he brings is his judgment, man. He still can’t believe I’m gay. He’d be like, “Oh, you’re still into them girls, huh?” And I’m like, “Yes, unc, because women are soft and fluffy. Like hotel pillows. And they smell like Cucumber, Lemon and stability.” I don’t want to wake up with no big hairy man in my bed with a bulge in my back. Oh, yo rough like Brixton, smell like Newports and excuses. Then he always asks me “Well, how do you expect to make a baby then?”

Michael Che: Well, do you want a baby?

Punkie Johnson: I do. I really do. Especially around the holidays, I get baby fever. But I gotta be honest, man. I don’t want a daughter.

Michael Che: You don’t want a daughter? Why not?

Punkie Johnson: Because what if she turned out straight? I don’t want my baby girl to get boned. Argh! Y’all feel me, fellas. Come on! If I have a daughter and she bring a man home, I’m gonna be like, “Bitch I ain’t raised you like that. Where you learn this nonsense, huh? If I’m gay, and your mama gay, then you gay.”

Michael Che: Punkie, you can’t make your child gay.

Punkie Johnson: Watch me. From age one to five, my baby is going to wear nothing but Jordans, a diaper, gold chains in a sports bra. She’ll be gay by six.

Michael Che: I mean, you never know what would happen. You could have a gay son.

Punkie Johnson: I don’t think so. My family motto won’t be, “If I’m smashing holes, then everybody’s smashing hoes in this house.” There’s gonna be a hoes smashing house, Che. Merry Christmas, America.

Michael Che: Punkie Johnson, everbody.

Punkie Johnson: Ma! I’m pregnant!

 

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