I was living under a desk in West Hollywood. It was a closet that I shared with another comic. I was shocked when they called me to come in to try out for the show. The chances of me getting on a TV show and winning it is like one-in-a-million. I had only been doing comedy for six years at that point, so I was basically considered an open mic-er or maybe a feature act once in awhile.

When you grow up poor, you have to either work really hard to try and get where you want to be, or you'll just stay put.

I did whatever it takes to do stand-up. There is an abundance of material in struggling and poverty and trying to make it. There is so much humor in that, it's unlimited.

Money comes and goes. I'm thankful I have money. I'm trying to save up more. I would like more money. But it's not happiness. If you're a millionaire and hate your family, hate your friends and your life, then what is the point? You're just a person with a lot of money and power who is not happy.

We want to be seen as more than just martial artists, or bad stereotype token roles in American TV and movies.

Vietnam, we take over by doing pedicure! That's how we take over. We take over one foot at a time, damn it - that's the plan of attack right there. We take over from the toe up, that's the plan. We spread over USA like fungus from the toe.

I was doing gigs to stay alive. I worked two or three jobs at a time, there were times when I stayed up for 36 hours straight. I slept in shopping mall parking lots. A stand-up gig paid $35; then I could eat for another few days until the next gig. Literally, I was performing to live.