Sean Lock is the host and introduces Romesh Ranganathan and Marcus Brigstocke.
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Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome your host for tonight, Sean Lock!
CHEERING AND APPLAUSE
Thank you, thank you very much!
Thank you, thank you. Lovely to be here in Hammersmith.
I just have one thing, one request, if at any point in the show
you're erring on the side of laughter, go with it, yeah?
You know, if you get to a bit and you go,
"Is that funny? Er, erm, er..."
Just go, wahey! Chuck yourself in!
Cos the consequences for you of a joke not working
aren't that serious. There'll be other jokes, other shows.
But the consequences for me are pretty serious, yes.
Because if you don't laugh at my jokes, in about a year's time
you'll switch on your telly on a Saturday night and you'll hear
Bruce Forsyth say "And our next couple, dancing the pasodoble..."
"..it's Sean and Tatiana!"
Dun, de, den, den deh! Dum, de, deh, deh, deh!
I'll have a black nylon shirt, split to my waist.
Fruit all down me.
And at some point they'll make you do the shimmy, won't they?
Everybody goes on Strictly and at some point has to do the shimmy.
It's like tossing the salad in jail that's what it is, the shimmy.
At some point you have to go...
That's like just driving your face into the dirt, isn't it?
And then the bit after that you're in a tense dance-off
with the OXO mum. Ooh!
And if that's not enough, afterwards you get bollocked, don't you?
By Bruno Tonioli.
"Sean! You're like-a fridge, your arms didn't move!
"You stand there like a fridge, you all grinder, no pepper!"
And you can't tell him to piss off, can you?
"Look, I made a complete twat out of myself out there,
"and now you want to rub my nose in it.
"What have you ever done in your life? You prick."
I think it would make a better show, make a better show.
Cos we've got a few Strictly guests in, Joe Calzaghe's here. Hello, Joe.
Joe Calzaghe, undefeated World Champion.
I took up boxing for a while,
cos I heard it was a way out of the ghetto.
Thing is I'm not from the ghetto.
So for me it was a way into hospital.
Jon Culshaw there, hello, Jon.
-You can do 350 voices, is that true?
-Something like that.
And do you hear the voices in your head?
I do, I do!
Cos I hear voices in my head. I ignore them and carry on killing.
But I do impressions, I do one impression.
Here's my impression, right?
It's Billy Mitchell from EastEnders.
I can't do the voice.
That's it, just that. And then...hang on.
Oh, it's me again!
And of course, we have got Brian Murphy there. Hello, Brian.
-Sitcom legend. Is it right it's your 80th birthday today?
It's your 80th.
Your wife's with you.
Good tradition, she is giving you a brilliant birthday treat,
she's taken you to a free gig.
Thank you, welcome.
I love playing Hammersmith, it's a great place to play.
To be honest, I love playing most towns,
I'm on tour at the moment, playing loads of towns.
There's only one place I won't go back to, that's Guildford.
You're not from Guildford.
They stared at me like they were looking
out of the windows of a bus replacement service, like this.
You never see anyone smiling on a bus replacement service, do you?
"This is brilliant, much better than the train!
"Cos you visit so many different villages!" They look
like my dad looked when he found out what his pension was worth.
Part of the problem was, to be fair to them, it was the week that
Margaret Thatcher died and a couple of comments that
I made might not have gone down in the spirit that they were intended.
All I said was, wahey! That was it, that was it.
And I did mention that a fitting tribute to her was that
when they cremated her they ran out of coal.
That was it, that was all I said.
I didn't have a party.
Well, you wouldn't call it a party, it was a few drinks, nibbles,
couple of friends.
Police were called once. That's not a party, is it?
Erm...I love my wife.
I love my kids, I am a very lucky man, very lucky man.
But there are things I miss about the old days, before all that.
I think the thing I miss the most of all about living on my own
is the songs you sing when you live on your own. You know the songs
you sing when you live on your own? Just walking round your house,
start singing, don't you?
# I'm going to put the kettle on and make a cup of tea now!
# Owww, ow, ow-ow-ow ow!
# I might have a biscuit or a crisp sandwich! #
You can't do that when you live with other people, can you?
Cos they don't want to see that.
No. They want to think you've got your shit together.
You've got to hide that.
I say I love my wife, sometimes I'm not sure.
Well, no, the symptoms of being in love are shortness of breath,
light headedness, inability to concentrate - are exactly the same
symptoms as carbon monoxide poisoning, aren't they?
So I said "I think I love you, but can we get the boiler serviced?"
Hahaha! No, I do, I love her very much.
But she upset me this last Christmas because as she was giving me
my Christmas present, just before I opened it she said "Oh, by the way,
"you do know it's very hard to buy presents for a man of your age?"
I found that quite hurtful, I did, to be honest with you.
And if there are any men of my age in the room tonight, bit of advice
for you, be very careful what you show enthusiasm for
in the weeks before Christmas.
Because you show the slightest enthusiasm or interest
in anything...you're getting it for Christmas.
She'll be going up to bed. You say,
"I'll be up in a minute, I'm just going to watch the news."
"He likes the news!"
And you'll get a biography of Huw Edwards.
"What a guy."
Never had an X-ray, apparently. Didn't know that.
One time we were out walking in the countryside,
there was a bird hovering in the sky. She said, "That's a buzzard."
I said, "No, that's a kestrel."
She said, "I didn't know you knew about that."
I said, "Yeah, a little bit, little bit. Not a lot."
Cut to six months later, I'm standing in a field...
I've got a big leather glove on like that.
Cube of meat on a string.
"Yeah, I'm having a great day, love.
"It's like you read my mind!"
"Argh! Get it off me! Get it off me!
I didn't do that. Don't want to upset the greenies.
From about October to December,
I don't say anything positive about anything.
We got a ferry once from Holland. Ferries are normally a sort of dull,
dismal, awful experience. This was a really nice ferry, lovely ferry.
And I was about to go, "Cor, this is a nice ferry, isn't it?"
Then I went, "Uh, oh. No."
Cos there is a chance on Christmas morning I'd have opened an envelope
and pulled out... "A golden ferry ticket!
"A magical day out on the ferry!
"Help the captain steer the ferry out of port."
"Wave the cars onto the deck."
"Sing a song with the group Liquid Motion."
The other day I intercepted her ordering me some bees.
She was ordering bees on the phone. I went,
"Whoa, whoa, we don't want any bees! Why are you ordering bees?"
She said, "You were going on about the plight of the honey bee,
"and how people don't plant flowers any more, their gardens are decked,
"and the honey bee's dying out, and the whole of society will collapse
"so I thought I'd get you some bees."
And I said, "No, what you've mistaken there is, I like moaning."
I couldn't give a shit about bees.
I can't tell the difference between a bee and a wasp,
I just kill anything I see.
Basically, she wants me to have a hobby,
because I don't get a lot of spare time but if I do, what I like to do
is stand in various rooms in my house,
staring into the middle distance like that.
And she finds that troubling.
I'm never happier than when I'm sitting on bed, in my pants,
one sock on, another sock in my hand.
Oh, I could do 20 minutes there like that.
Cos I'm not doing nothing, I'm putting socks on. But very slowly.
And the thing is, I do have a hobby,
but it's not considered to be a hobby, and my hobby is drinking.
I like drinking.
I'll tell you why.
I don't do it all the time, but when I go out I like to have a drink.
If you could see my little face, how excited my little face is
when I'm going off to the pub, you'd go, "Aw, look at him,
"isn't he cute, eh?"
And when I drink, I like to go out and have a proper drink,
I like to get hammered. I like to be four units the right side
of shitting myself, that's what I like to do.
Drawing on my face, combing my hair with a shoe, that kind of thing.
I worked out my relationship with alcohol is very similar to
the relationship that a moth has with a light bulb.
You know when you see a moth having a session on the light bulb.
They're just going - bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
"This is brilliant!"
"Who switched this on?"
"I bloody love you!"
If you could interview a moth after a night on the light bulb,
it would be very similar to me with a hangover.
"What happened there, moth?"
"I know, I know, I've done it again, haven't I?"
"How do you feel now?" "I feel bloody awful!"
"Covered in burns!"
"They're bloody hot those light bulbs! Everyone saw me!"
"Cos I was the worst, wasn't I? I was the worst.
"Eight hours I was up there, wasn't I?
"Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!"
But some of them only do an hour then piss off behind the fridge.
"Do you think you've got a problem?"
"No, not at all, if you don't switch the light bulb on, I'm fine.
"I could do about three weeks on a wall."
Bum ba bum!
But you switch the light bulb on... "Yes! Daddy's home!"
I'm not advocating alcoholism, by the way,
I'm just sticking up for a group in society that gets badly treated,
gets really bad press, is abused and maligned continually
and that's binge drinkers.
Nobody ever says anything nice about binge drinkers, do they?
They just say, "Binge drinkers, Look what they've done,
"look what they've done to the town centre."
We didn't ruin the town centre.
Tesco's and the internet did that, we're just finishing the job.
It's like farting in a cheese shop - it's not the main problem.
Kicking a dead bird.
"What you doing?" "It's dead, chill out!"
Put a bit of chewing gum in a mullet.
And it's terrible the discrimination you suffer as a binge drinker.
I've been for job interviews and I know the only reason
I didn't get that job, is cos I was hammered.
They couldn't see beyond that, they couldn't see the person behind
the man trying to get a sing-song going.
# I get knocked down
# But I get up again yeah yeah. #
"Where do you see yourself in five years' time, Mr Lock?"
And the press are very complicit in this, they really like
to make binge drinkers feel bad. I remember there was a picture once
in the Sun of this girl on a night out in Newcastle.
And for a laugh she pulled... She kept her clothes on but for a laugh
she pulled her knickers down to her ankles
and she was standing in the centre of Newcastle going "Wahey!"
Big smile on her face, like that "Wahey!"
And the headline above was something like, "Oh, God.
"Oh, dear, oh, dear."
And I remember looking at the picture thinking,
"What is wrong with that?"
She's obviously having a brilliant time.
You've got to be in a fantastic mood to be
in the heart of the town where you live, where you go shopping, you go
to work, you meet friends, to be in the very epicentre of where all your
friends are, where your life is to go "Ha-ha, yeah!
That's a great moment in your life!
I'd put that on my CV!
"There we go, happiest I've ever been.
"That's also the answer to hobbies and interests."
I've never met anyone who's depressed who's done that.
I've never chatted to anyone whose depressed, say, "How you feeling?"
"Terrible, every decision I make is a disaster. I just can't see a way
"of muddling through this miserable period in my life.
"The other day I went down to the canal. I was...
"I was just staring at the dark black water
"trying to find a reason to carry on with this miserable existence
"we laughingly call life."
Also, you don't need to make a binge drinkers feel bad,
because they'll do that themselves.
If I've had a night out, the next day, three or four times,
at least, at random moments during the day, I'll be making
a cup of tea, I'll just do this, I'll go, "Eurgh, eurgh, eurgh. Eurgh."
"What's the matter with you, Sean?" "I just remembered something from...
"Eurgh, eurgh, eurgh. Eurgh."
The weird thing is, once you have one of those memories,
you have got it for life.
Your brain, you can forget the most important things you have
ever known, but it never forgets shame, does it?
My brain calls up stuff that happened 25 years ago.
Let's have a look at that one. And you're walking along going, "Eurgh!"
Like, I remember the time I left a note out for the milkmen
and accidentally, I put a kiss on it.
Like some sort of humiliation jukebox, just going,
"Let's have a look at this one, let's have a look at this one."
Once I was walking through the park, beautiful sunny day,
no reason to remember this whatsoever, no reason at all,
children out playing, flowers are out,
and I remembered this date I'd been on years ago.
We're halfway through it, the girl pointed out that my shirt was
buttoned up on the wrong side, so technically I was wearing a blouse.
The thing is, as I remembered it, I was walking past a dwarf.
He was about there and I was there, so when I remembered that,
I went like this - eurgh!
And I was a bit concerned, I thought he might have thought
I was doing some kind of Lord Of The Rings, Igor-type thing.
So I said to him, "Sorry, mate, I didn't mean you."
And he went, "What are you talking about?"
I said, "When I went eurgh, it wasn't
"about Lord Of The Rings or anything like that." And he said, "Why would
"I think that?" And now that's become something that makes me go eurgh!
The trouble is, every time I see a dwarf, it triggers that memory.
"Oh, sorry, mate, I didn't mean you."
I'm trapped in a dwarf shame spiral.
You don't get punch lines like that every day, do you?
I don't get a lot of stuff nicked.
Are you ready for the first act, ladies and gentlemen?
CHEERING AND APPLAUSE
Then put your hands together and go mad for a wonderful young comedian,
Hello. Very excited to be here.
I realised that some of you will have seen me come out with a microphone,
may have become concerned.
"Oh, God, Asian comedian."
"He's going to be banging on about being Asian the whole time."
Please, don't worry, only about 10% of my stuff is based on
me being Asian, all right?
The other 90% is based on my issues with white people.
So, it should be absolutely fine. Looking around I can't help feeling
there's been a bit of a booking error.
I'll just say what I've got to say and get the hell out of here.
I am actually married, I don't want to upset anyone in here.
But I am married, my wife and I have two small children -
we're not kidnappers.
We created these children by the traditional means...
No, I'm joking, I'm joking, I did it, did it. Smashed it.
My wife is white, I'm genuinely Asian, I haven't just browned-up
for tonight's show, and so our children are mixed race.
And a game that we've started playing,
we've started getting our kids
to pick a side.
So whenever we're watching the Jeremy Kyle show,
just point at the screen and go "That's white people for you, kids."
"I have got no idea, mate."
And whenever we go to an Indian restaurant my wife will go,
"Smells like Daddy".
That's a little game we play.
She won that one.
I'm going to be honest with you, I've overreacted to racism in the past
I'm not going to lie. I was getting my hair cut. It was an extremely
hot day, I was complaining about how hot it was. This guy sitting in the
barbers he turns to me, he says "Oh, I can't believe you lot, ha-ha."
"I can't believe you lot, you come over here, don't you, eh?
"Heh, heh, ha-ha, yeah, you do.
"You come over here then you complain about how bloody hot it is,
"don't you, son? Heh, hah!"
I thought, "Oh, my God, I'm going to put this idiot in his place,
"assuming that I'm an immigrant."
So I said to him,
"Well, actually, sir, the climactic conditions in Crawley,
"where I originate from,
"are very similar to the ones we're experiencing here.
"Just goes to show you."
To which his genuine response was,
"Bloody hell, mate, you're picking up the language brilliantly, ain't you?"
See, I complain about that, but in the winter,
one of my favourite pastimes is to pretend to passers-by that I've just
arrived in the country and that I'm seeing snow for the very first time.
On a really good day, they take photographs.
I've got to be honest with you,
I recently came to the realisation that sometimes a lack of racism
can actually be more hurtful than racism itself.
Now hear me out on this. I think you will agree with me.
I recently got into a bit of a car prang, completely my fault,
damaged this guy's car quite badly, he lost his shit,
as he had every right to, gets out the car and he looks at me and
he says, "What the hell do you think you're doing, you fat bastard?"
And I thought, "Oh, my God, I have put on so much weight..."
That's the first thing he went for.
I would rather he'd have said something racist, right?
It's offensive, but at least it means I'm in shape.
And it's my mom's fault. She's a feeder, she always has been.
I don't know if you had this problem. If you were at school,
you probably got a phone call home from your school, saying,
she's not doing her homework, she's messing about in class.
I got a phone call home from my school because they were
concerned about how many sandwiches I was putting away at break time.
And my mum took immediate action.
She told me to hide when I was eating my sandwiches.
And that's how I got the nickname Toilet Fatty.
I was sitting at home watching television with my wife,
and for those of you who have children,
you will know, to even get to a point where you're able to watch
what you want to on television is a bloody miracle.
You've got to do what these little shits want to do first, right?
And on this particular day, they wanted to watch Disney DVDs.
I'd just about managed to convince them to not watch Finding Nemo.
Now, I know that sounds mad cos Finding Nemo's a great film.
I assume people are fans of it in here?
It's a lovely movie.
This fish goes along and saves his son. It's wonderful, heart-warming.
But unfortunately when you have children, that film is ruined.
Cos I'm watching finding Nemo now and I'm thinking to myself,
"I mean, he told Nemo.
"To stop pissing around, right?"
Cos Nemo wouldn't listen, he's got to go dicking across the other side
of the world to go and get him.
And at the end of the film, Nemo's dad is supposed to learn a lesson
about chilling out. Piss off!
If I was directing that film, Nemo would have got kidnapped
and his dad would have gone, "I told you, you little prick!
"Enjoy the fish tank, dickhead!"
And the sequel would have been called Grounding Nemo.
Anyway, we didn't watch finding Nemo, we watched Beauty And The Beast.
It's a classic. I'm watching this film and I'm thinking,
"This ain't right either."
You've got the story of Belle, who falls in love with the Beast,
looks beneath the surface, falls in love with the person underneath,
he turns into a prince, they they live happily ever after.
I can't help thinking the message from this film seems to be
look beneath the surface, fall in love with the person beneath,
and hopefully...they will undergo some sort of major reconstructive
surgery...that will enable you to bring yourself to sleep with them!
That's not a positive message, Disney!
I mean, I argue with my wife.
One of the issues I had an argument with her,
is we disagree about how to bring up our children.
I dropped the ball on a potty training issue recently.
Now, those of you that haven't potty trained a child, let me
explain to you how it works.
You have to encourage the child
when they poo in the correct area.
What this basically means is, at my house,
every time my son takes a shit, we have a party. Absolutely ridiculous.
I said to my wife, "This is mental."
She said, "We're not going to do it forever." Yeah, I know!
I didn't think that was the plan.
I didn't anticipate following him to his graduation,
waiting outside cubicle one, and going,
"Look what you curled out, mate! Beautiful!"
Anyway, my son did a poo-poo the other day. My wife was out.
He called down, he said, "Daddy, I've done a poo-poo." I ran upstairs,
into the bathroom, sure enough, in the potty on the floor, wee-poo combo.
Then I thought, I've got to deal with this,
so I went to get a carrier bag to put this into,
and then I thought, "You can't put this in a carrier bag, idiot."
So I went to get two carrier bags.
I then got the carrier bags and decanted... Is that the right word?
Decanted the contents of the potty into the carrier bags,
tied a knot in the top, smashed it.
I then phone my wife to tell her two things. Thing number one.
I've just dealt with a situation without your help.
How d'you like them apples? Thing number two.
Can you get some more carrier bags?
It was at that point that my wife suggested to me that maybe the
better receptacle for my home sewage project might have been the toilet.
At this point, I felt two emotions.
Emotion number one was humiliation,
because not only had I done this, but I'd also told my wife.
I knew that she was going to go tell her friends.
The number of times I've been talking to one of her friends
and maybe suppressing a snigger, because Mouthy McGossip Twat
has told has told them something I've got up to.
My second emotion was rage towards my son,
because my son knows what my wife does with his poo-poos,
and instead of telling me, he decided to get some popcorn,
sit back and watch while I put his shit into a carrier bag!
I mean, the fact of the matter is I don't actually like
going out with my children and it's not because of my children.
I love my children, I think.
The problem is, you have to deal with other people's children and you
have to deal with their parents and you can't tell off other people's
kids cos people get annoyed. Except I've found a way.
I was at the cinema a while ago, I'm going to share this with you.
This kid was throwing popcorn about, shouting, just being a little idiot.
His parents were doing absolutely nothing about it.
So I thought I would step up, on behalf of the cinema.
So I got in real close and said, "Listen here, you little shit..."
"Pull that again, I'm going to punch you in your face, understand me?"
And then as his parents approached and were able to hear me,
I just went,
"And that's why you shouldn't say that to brown people."
They apologised to me!
Try it. You'll have to brown up, but it's worth it!
Ladies and gentlemen, you genuinely have been adequate.
So, thank you so much, I've been Romesh Ranganathan, goodnight!
So, you up for the next act?
CHEERING AND APPLAUSE
Please put your hands together, go mad for a fantastic comedian,
Thank you very much, ladies and gentlemen,
give it up for Mr Sean Lock!
CHEERING AND APPLAUSE
This is lovely, exciting. I like being here in London.
I went to my favourite Indian restaurant in London the other day.
I live in Clapham. Anyone from Clapham?
"Hooray! We came on a pony! Hello." You'll know this place, then.
There's a very good Indian restaurant there called The Gaylord.
And I'm not above finding that a little bit funny.
I phone my friend and go, "Do you fancy The Gaylord?" And he'll
say, "No, you do." And we laugh for about an hour, it's roughly an hour.
Give or take, an hour.
I think if the gay community appointed a lord, I think
that would be a good thing. I think it would be nice.
You'd hope it would be Stephen Fry, Peter Tatchell,
it would probably be Louie Spence.
But nonetheless, it would be a good thing.
I don't mind finding that little bit funny, I ring my mate and go,
"Do you want something spicy from The Gaylord
"so that your bottom hurts in the morning?" About an hour, we laughed.
So we went to The Gaylord and we were sitting there,
it's really nice and these three kids showed up outside, these three
teenagers and they found the word Gaylord funnier than the internet.
They were there for about 40 minutes, pushing each other towards it,
"Go on, touch The Gaylord." "No, no, bruv, no way.
"I ain't touching The Gaylord, you touch it!"
So we're watching for ages. The waiters were all watching this
happening. "I ain't going in The Gaylord!
"I might go in through the front, I ain't going in through the back!"
"Oh, my days! Oh, my days!"
And eventually one of them
is nominated by his friends to enter The Gaylord.
So they push him in and he's like, "Right, OK, I'll go in."
And the waiter was fantastic.
It was obvious what was going on, cos his mates were outside pissing themselves, he's going,
"I'm doing it now, yeah?" As soon as he walked in,
it was obvious what was happening, but the waiter stepped forward
and went, "Table for one, sir?"
The kid was hilarious. He went, "No, I don't want to eat nothing.
"Yeah, I'm doing it! I'm doing it now!
"I don't want to eat nothing, but let me aks you this.
"Let me aks you this, bruv.
"Why is it that your restaurant is called Gaylord?"
Now, I'm guessing this has happened to this waiter every day
for the last 22 years, cos he was fantastic, he didn't hesitate at all.
As soon as the kid asked him, he gave him a full history lesson.
The kid went, "Let me aks you this, why is it called The Gaylord?"
And the waiter went, "Well, interestingly, Gaylord was a young Indian man,
"he was very cosseted and he left his family, joined the military,
"he became a great warrior, much respected in battle,
"he was a fine horseman and very fine with a sword as well..."
And because the kid had asked him, he had no choice but to listen.
So while he's getting this full history lesson,
the kid is just going, "Oh, right, yeah. Yeah, wicked, with a sword?
"Bad ass." It was brilliant,
The waiter went on for about 10 minutes,
given the full history of who Gaylord was and the kid had no
choice at the end but to go, "Well, thank you very much." Brilliant.
He got a free history lesson. Education in the community.
He went back outside and his mates were pissing themselves.
"Oh, my gosh, you was in there for ages by the way!
"A bit creepy, yeah?"
And I've no idea what he said to them, but they calmed down really
quickly, so I'm guessing he explained and went, "No, we got all wrong.
"It turns out Gaylord is a geezer, yeah?"
And I'd love to think that in their gang now, whenever someone
does something really cool, that's their word of choice to describe it.
"I tell you what, man, you're a level-nine boss gaylord!"
I turned 40 this year. Which means my body is...
-No, don't woo that!
Don't whoo that. My body is no longer on my side.
I've started having a new experience, which I'm calling "after wees."
It's when you've had a wee, you've finished your wee,
you check with your bladder, "Is this wee fully finished?"
Your bladder goes, "Oh, yes, definitely finished."
And then you leave.
And then your bladder decides to do his impression of Columbo.
"Ah, one more thing!
"Just one more thing."
So I don't trust my body any more. I went on safari, went to South Africa.
Anyone here been to South Africa?
I stopped a safari with my bum.
When you're in South Africa, I don't know if you've tried Biltong.
It's delicious, its dried bush meat. Dried meat, right?
Kudu, antelope, stuff like that. They were giving it out where I stayed.
I ate loads of the stuff, it was delicious, nom, nom, nom, nom, mmm.
It's all dried meat, like that.
What I didn't realise is that when you then have a drink,
it takes on its original size and shape, inside you.
I rehydrated an antelope in my lower intestines.
And then got the biltong farts. Badly.
So we went on a safari. Five o'clock in the morning. You get up early
before the animals are fully awake, they're still doing their teeth
and folding their little elephant jammies.
We were in an open top jeep
with a guide driver in front, a young couple on honeymoon
and a young family in the back.
And I have a belly full of swollen biltong
and I got the biltong farts badly.
Right, so we went over a bump
and a big biltong-based blow off fell out of me.
And the driver of our open top vehicle brought it to a complete halt
and went, "Can everybody smell that?
"You can tell because it's very meaty.
"It's quite fresh as well. They've been through here recently, yeah?"
And the thing is, everyone in the jeep got up and went,
"Oh, yes, yes, you can really smell it!
"It's lion. Children, come on, come on."
"Daddy is it really lion?" "I think it could be, yes."
Cos the more I laughed the more I farted, right?
The driver is sneaking the vehicle forward going,
"I can't see them, but they're definitely very close, yeah?"
"Please, everyone be careful, I think one of them may be injured."
I was like, "Ohhh!"
We were there 40 minutes. People trying to take photos of my farts.
So I'm going to go to Greece, fart in one of their banks,
see if I can help them out.
They're in a bad way. Any Greek people in?
Yeah? Pay your taxes. It would be a start, wouldn't it?
It's not difficult.
They're in a bad way and it's not all their fault. I feel bad for Greece.
Yeah, it's so bad over there they're selling off their islands.
I think we should buy them, put them in the British Museum.
I'm a completist, what can I say?
No, it is, it's a bad, bad situation in Greece. It's not entirely
their fault. Greece was never supposed to be in the euro.
That's right, we're drifting from my farts straight into
a light economics lecture. Hold on, people.
So Greece was never supposed to be in the euro.
They had too much sovereign debt, you know this, yeah?
They had too much sovereign debt, they couldn't get in.
Goldman Sachs, the investment bank, hid their sovereign debt
and snuck Greece into the euro.
And you can understand why Greece wanted to get in. They were like
a kid outside a nightclub, you know,
too young, had the wrong shoes on, but they could hear it,
they were excited they could hear...
HE IMITATES A DANCE BEAT
And the Greeks are excited, they wanted to get in. And I should warn
you, for the Greek people, I'm not very good at the Greek accent
but I'll give it a go, OK? So the Greeks are outside, they can hear...
HE IMITATES A DANCE BEAT
And they went, "Ay!
"I want to get into the nightclub!"
That's not good, that, is it? But they couldn't get in.
Weren't allowed. They had too much sovereign debt. And France were
on the door being the bouncer. France said, "No, you cannot come in here,
"look at you, shitty Greece, you are too young, you have too much
"sovereign debt, you are wearing the wrong shoes, go on get out of here.
"Look, you have curly slippers on, get out of here!"
And Goldman Sachs hid their sovereign debt, gave them fake ID,
changed their shoes, and snuck Greece in through the back door of the club.
The Greeks are in now and they're excited.
They're inside the club going "Ooh, ooh!"
You know how Greeks are... not like that.
"We're inside the euro club now, wooop wooop!" Nah.
It's exciting for Greece. Brilliant, they're on the inside
and that's when they realise the club has a German DJ.
That's when shit started to get scary for Greece
when they heard "Ja, daz iz da EuroHaus!"
HE IMITATES A FURIOUS DANCE BEAT
"Turn it up a little more!"
"Dance faster, little Greece!"
By this point Greece were desperately trying to keep up, going,
"Ah! Please will you slow the music down?
"Don't you have any Nana Mouskouri or Demis Roussos?"
"No! Das iz de EuroHaus!
HE IMITATES A FURIOUS DANCE BEAT
"Dance faster, little shit!"
By this stage the Greeks were slumped in the corner going,
"Please, I should never have been in here!
"I have too much sovereign debt and look - curly slippers!"
They can't get out cos the Germans have locked the door.
And the Germans dictate how fast the music goes
and because they're German that's very fast indeed.
Germans have two speeds for their music - oompa and techno.
The Greeks fully went in the wrong door, they could have been so happy
right now one club further up going,
# Poompa-poompa-poompa-poompa... #
Love that oompa.
Everything the Greeks are living on is handouts from the Germans.
That's hard. Greece is an old culture, they have their pride.
It's difficult. The Germans give them all their money and they can
tell them the things they want them to do so they can treat Greece
however they want. Usually it's like a naughty teenager, like,
"Ja, OK, Greece.
"You can have your pocket money. But first you must tidy your room."
The Greeks are like, "Hey! We invented philosophy!"
"Ja, und we invented the Volkswagen und the Mercedes Benz.
"And people buy shitloads of those, so tidy your room
"or it's back into the techno club, you little shit!"
The Germans have got it this time, they are on it. They're like,
"Ja, the last two times we tried it was a little bit awkward
"with all of the killing of the people.
"No, this time it is much better,
"this time we just buy it!
"Ja, we work a little longer und we spend a little less
"und we just buy it because last time people were quite cross with us!
"They said, 'You must not be killing all of these people.'
"We were like, 'Ja, we are knowing this NOW.'
"This time is better. Look, we have receipt."
Ladies and gentlemen, you've been an absolute delight, thank you so much.
See you again. Thank you, goodbye!
I don't like to ever finish a show without giving the audience
a piece of advice. I've got a piece of advice for everybody in this audience,
especially anyone who's got children.
A bit of advice for you is, always lie to your children.
Never tell the truth, just lie. If they ask you anything, just lie.
There'll be plenty of time when they grow up to find out the truth.
Now, I always lie. There is a theory of parenting that you should never lie to kids, apart
from obviously Father Christmas, the tooth fairy and how hot the food is.
Which is fair enough, if they've been giving you a difficult day,
it's a bit of payback, isn't it?
"Yeah, those fish fingers have been out for ages. Work away."
It's the new smacking.
But they say, apart from that, you should never lie to your children.
I lie to my children all the time.
I was putting one of my daughters to bed, and she said
to me, "Daddy, are there monsters under the bed?" And I said, "Yes.
"Oh, God, there are horrible monsters under your bed.
"You don't want to meet them.
"And if you put your feet down on the bedroom floor at any point in
"the night, they'll reach out, grab your ankles and drag you under the bed.
"And they'll take you off into a labyrinth of turds and wasps.
"And he's on duty until about seven o'clock in the morning.
"Clocks off at seven. He's like a pub chef in the countryside.
"So, if you wake up about 6:45, just wait 15 minutes, then come
"and disturb your mummy and your daddy.
"In fact, I think he's on duty now! Stay on the bed! Stay on the bed!
"Pass me Mr Tiddles!
"Stay on the bed! Stay on the bed!
Now some people would say that's not ideal parenting, but I think
it's better than the alternative, which is to tell the truth.
When they say, "Daddy, are there monsters under the bed?"
And you go, "No, there's no monsters under the bed."
Because then they'll ask, "Are there monsters outside?" And if you tell
the truth, you have to go, "Yeah, but they don't look like monsters.
"No, they look like ordinary men and women, a bit like your mummy
"and your daddy, but they're capable of terrible things.
Please put your hands together for the acts you saw tonight -
Romesh Ranganathan, Marcus Brigstocke.
I have been Sean Lock, thank you very much!