George Gonzales got expelled from school in Form One. A pupil of Mucurapo Junior Secondary, he was the only “white boy” among his peers. One day, a classmate, whom he barely remembers except by the name Cruickshank, made a racist joke. He was never one to back down from picong, so George fired right back. That was the end of his education.
As an overweight child growing up, comedy became a solid weapon to hide his insecurities and lack of confidence. “I stuck out like a grain of rice in a bowl of raisins,” he jokes. “Being white and fat, I had to be funny!”
His parents took the expulsion in stride. With a father who owned a record store and a bar, George got a taste of real life—days working behind the counter, nights working the bar until 2 am.
In his adult years, he opted not to go back to school. When he broke into radio in 1986, older heads grumbled about his “green verbs” and rough delivery. “People thought I shouldn’t be on air but I’m still here,” he says, smiling. Three decades later, the former schoolboy dropout is one of Trinidad’s most well-known comedians—loved precisely because he keeps it raw.
He’s been very open about his battles: the 12-year drug addiction that started while DJing at the then-popular Barataria spot The Fortress, becoming a single father after marrying at 22 and divorcing at 29, dropping nearly 150 pounds after gastric bypass surgery, and the open-heart surgery in 2024 after a scare while walking around the Queen’s Park Savannah.
“Nobody can use anything against me because I already talked about it,” he says.
Alongside radio, George built a strong comedy career, starting in the late ’90s with his best friend Errol Fabien, who practically forced him into stand-up and onto stages he never thought he was ready for. They built their reputation as co-hosts on Vibe CT 105FM’s morning staple Mixed Nuts, later taking their comedic chemistry to TV on Sunset Strip.
Their first-ever gig together didn’t quite go according to plan. It was at Guaracara Park. Testing the waters, George shouted, “Guayaguayare Park, how yuh feeling?” and was met with crickets.
“Yuh know nobody answered how they was feeling?” he laughs. “But the set was nice. I had a good comeback.”
From that rocky start, the duo built a career that took them across the Caribbean and beyond, sharing the spotlight with acts like Jamaica’s Lemon and Fancy Cat. “I remember the first time we met, him sizing me up with his eyes like, ‘What is this white boy doing here?’ From then to now we are best friends,” George says of Errol. “He has a really uncanny way he does his comedy. He never writes a script, ever.”
Their most famous skit—George as a tourist, Errol as a smooth Laventille tour guide trying to impress a woman—became a crowd favourite. Every time they did it, they extended it a little more. Sometimes, if they were in a foreign country, “we would find out where their ‘Laventille’ is and use that name instead.”
On June 3, George brings his second solo stand-up show, Oops, He Did It Again, to the Radisson Ballroom, supported by a cast including Kevin Soyer, Alan the Entertainer, Kenneth Supersad, The Saint and Errol Fabien. The material is not PG-13, so keep your children at home. It follows the sold-out success of last year’s Cantankerous, which brought a belly-full of laughs.
“Kieron Pollard bought two tickets today, and Bunji called for his. The fact that people are coming to see me is such a good feeling. We’ll be placing mops in strategic areas because people will pee themselves laughing.” He adds that with the country currently facing turmoil, “More than ever, laughter is the best medicine in this political and social climate.”
With the show just days away, George admits he still gets nervous.
“Once the first joke does well, everything is a breeze. If it doesn’t, you start to question yourself.”
How come this is only his second solo event? Well, for years, he leaned heavily on Errol. He doubted that he had what it took to go it alone.
“He always said, ‘George, you can do it.’ He would even leave me on stage saying he was going to the bathroom, just so I could build that confidence,” he remembers, shaking his head.
Asked for his take on the new wave of social media comedians, George is a fierce defender of traditional stand-up.
“It’s easy to be funny on a video and do a skit,” he maintains. “It’s a different thing doing stand-up comedy. These influencers can’t be hired to go on stage. Most of them, they’re not funny on stage at all. My own son only knows about comedy on the phone, not comedy shows, but when I take him with me, he sees what comedy really is.”
With a life lived in the open, what does he want people to take away from his journey?
“Hmm,” he pauses. “Sometimes you just need to have faith. You don’t always see the end, but somebody is seeing it. This show is blind faith.”
