Riotously funny Jon Richardson hosts this evening of stand-up comedy from the Apollo, joined by Sara Pascoe and Nathan Caton.
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This programme contains some strong language
Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome your host for tonight,
APPLAUSE AND CHEERING
Greetings, Apollo. Are you well?
AUDIENCE: Yeah! Good.
Thank you for coming.
I hope you enjoy yourselves.
So, who's around?
We have musicians here. We have...
Lee Ryan is here from Blue. CHEERING
How are you? Good. I'm all right.
And Tinchy Stryder is here, as well, isn't he?
There he is.
The sunglasses on indoors, you cool sod(!)
Took your hat off, I appreciate that.
I'm into, uh... I'm into a sort of type of music.
I don't know if you guys know it, it's sort of sub, urban music.
Uh...suburban music, we call it.
LAUGHTER Pretty cool shit.
I've got a new single coming out called
It's Like That - But We Can Have It Changed If You're Not Satisfied.
You've got to fight for your right to represent your local pa-a-a-arty.
Rachel's here. Hello, how are you?
Rachel does the numbers on Cats Does Countdown
because we can't let Jimmy do them, can we?
All come out the same, wouldn't they?
Anyway, thank you all for coming. I hope you have a wonderful evening.
But not too good, er,
cos Britain's the only country you sort of have to quantify that
because in most countries, when you say, "Have a good time,"
people mean enjoy the thing we're doing, but in Britain
that means, "Drink until you're sick in the morning."
There's a really unique approach to fun we have,
where, if you don't remember it while you're puking into a toilet,
then you might as well have not done it, to be honest.
I've got to a point now with my drinking, where, obviously,
I'm not going to eliminate it altogether,
cos you need some alcohol to survive...
I'm just trying to sort my...
Limit my drinking so I don't get hangovers any more.
I'm sick of having hangovers,
because what a hangover is is your stomach
saying to the rest of your body,
"Would you just piss off, please?!
"Nothing comes down here
"until I deal with what you did to me last night."
"You don't even like Malibu!"
"Three of them down here at two o'clock in the morning...
At which point your arsehole will say,
"Don't bring me into this."
"I'm still dealing with the kebab he had on the way home."
I like this time of year.
This is the time of year I like
because the drinking sort of tempers now.
Cos we're getting to winter now, it's getting dark.
People don't go out in winter, do they? They stay in and eat stew,
and they cry. I like that. LAUGHTER
Emotionally, I feel at one with that,
you just cut up a swede and leave it in a pan for four hours.
"No, you stay in there until you offer no resistance whatsoever, you!
"Chewing was for the summer, I'm exhausted by life now."
Just mush it in so I don't die in the cold months.
In summer I really struggle.
What happens in summer is people go out and they do stuff
and they have opinions on it.
Tends to piss me off a little bit, that kind of thing.
And you realise the carnage that is created...
Cos in my lifetime, I would say I only remember sort of...
The last two summers are the only ones I remember
where it's been sunny for, like, a week at a time.
You used to get that, you'd open the curtains and you'd go,
"Oh, there's sunshine, look! Let's have a barbecue."
And your partner would say, "It's only half seven in the morning."
You'd say, "I know, but let's have a breakfast barbecue,
"cos there's clouds coming and otherwise we'll miss it,
"so let's just set fire to the shed and put a sausage on it, please!
"Ah, it's raining now. Don't matter."
"You've ruined it. Good summer, that one(!)"
Now you have summer and you know you're in trouble
cos you turn the weather on in the morning and the weather people are outside
showing you the weather is real, so that you can believe it.
Carol Kirkwood's there going, "Hello! I'm outside, look.
"That's the sunshine, very nice, isn't it? Very hot.
"Not too hot, I'm not dying, you know, it's quite far away.
"It's sort of temperate, it's nice...
"You're thinking, 'Very well for you,' but cos it's so far away,
"it's not just on this field, it's everywhere, it's on all of us.
"Go outside. I know it's Monday and you've got work, but don't worry,
"it'll still be sunny on Friday, OK?"
And that's the bit where we all go, "I beg your pardon?
"Still sunny on Friday, you said, is it? The day when I go out
"and get pissed anyway, I can do that outside now, can I?
"I'll start e-mailing people now."
And whatever city you live in,
that's where you e-mail people the venue to meet.
I live in London, here...
which, obviously, I'm not from London, you can tell by my accent I'm from the North.
But you're not allowed to be a comedian in the North,
I have to move to London, and when the Queen's not looking, I'll steal a bit of gold,
and one day I'll move back up North and build a house with it. And then I'll go,
"Ee, it's him what left, he's come back wi' t' gold!"
"For t' building houses with, let's make 'im t' king."
Yes, I live in the North, but I live in London now.
What happens is, everybody goes to the river.
We all accumulate on the river when it's sunny.
There was a day last summer, everybody e-mailed each other Monday morning and went...
COCKNEY ACCENT: "'Ere, mate, you seen the burty bevver?"
Don't know the rhyming slang for "weather", I haven't checked.
It's close enough, isn't it?
COCKNEY ACCENT: "Burty Bevver, played for West Ham, 30 goals. Legend!"
"Yeah, yeah, I seen it, mate.
"Sunshine, innit? Funshine, do it up the bumshine. Wehay!"
"Y-You coming down the river Friday night, mate, five o'clock?"
"Yeah, I'll see you there at four, mate.
"Work through lunch, 4pm." "Yeah, nice one. See you.
"Apples and bananas, two for a pound, wehay!" LAUGHTER
This e-mail went across London, I don't know how they did it.
You must be able to put into the e-mail address bar, "Everyone at desks."
Swept London. So they all congregated Friday night at the river,
but the last line of this e-mail was, "PS, don't tell Jon."
Went to my gig, didn't I?
Nobody turned up. They were at the river. But that doesn't stop me.
I'll quite happily shout into an empty room about myself for two hours,
spitting bile onto empty chairs.
Come out to Waterloo about 11 o'clock to get home
and just have never seen carnage like it.
I've seen drunk people,
I've never seen a whole city shit-faced before.
And you know everyone's drunk
because there are no two people together.
No-one can coordinate to walk alongside one other person.
Veering off individuals,
grown men just smashing into train station walls
cos they've seen Harry Potter and they know that one of them... Doosh!
One will open up to that magical world where there's that girl,
where she's not old enough in the films but she is now, so it doesn't count.
People's limbs have stopped working, they're just dragging themselves
across the floor, hoovering up chips. HE GOBBLES
The biggest problem I had is...
No-one has left the city all day, no-one's left London.
So this train now that's about to leave is heaving
in a way that I've only ever seen in documentaries set in the third world, you know?
There's that one train a year and if they don't get on it, they ain't feeding their families.
So they're on the roof and they're in the coupling...
That's happening at London Waterloo, strangers, adults,
hanging onto the outside of trains like that...
waiting for the train to leave.
And the police, they're saying, "You can't actually travel like that, mate,
"on the outside of the train there."
Sensible people saying, "Oh, God. Tunnels and that. Kill myself, wouldn't I?
"Ha-ha! What am I like?!" LAUGHTER
Not pissheads... "You do one, pig!" HE HICCUPS
"I'm touching the train, I'm on the train."
I'm not going to get home, I ain't getting home tonight, that's what's happening.
I realised there was one train left.
I thought, "If I don't get on that, that's it.
"When they announce the platform, I've got to be the first there.
"I've got a good chance, cos when they announce it, I'm the only one here who can still read."
LAUGHTER So they announce the platform. Not only do I get to the train,
I'm the first one there for the whole train,
which means I get my choice of every seat on a train,
which would freak many out - they don't know which one they want.
I know exactly what seat I want.
I want two together, but I don't want someone to sit next to me.
I don't want to put my bag on the seat, I'm too much of a coward.
When you put your bag on the seat, eventually someone comes and goes,
"Excuse me, could you move that, please? Yes, yes.
"Thought you could have this, but I'm here now, the alpha,
"so you can just... My seat.
"I'm just going to touch you with that leg, as well, how's that?"
SMATTERING OF APPLAUSE
"That's my arm rest, you get off, I'm having that one.
"You have that shitty little half one there under the window,
So I'd just picked the two worst seats on the train.
"That'll do me, the two seats that nobody else will want."
What you do - you walk along the train
until they've joined two together but there's no divide.
So all these people are stuck in this bit.
Go in this door here, don't go on forward with your momentum,
just pivot round like that
and there's a little pouch of seats here that nobody notices.
And look for the table here.
Don't sit at the table, everybody wants the table.
Sit just behind the table.
People see the table's free, they move on.
There's two seats here facing backwards.
Most people don't like to face backwards, makes them feel sick.
Sit by the window so people assume there's someone there, too.
"Yeah, go on, keep walking, mate. This is mine."
Got on my seat. I thought, "I've nailed this."
Curled myself up into a little ball of self-righteousness.
Stone-cold sober, hating it.
People get on the train, drunk, enjoying themselves, winding me up.
Right. Just before we pull out of the station,
something hits the back of my chair. It's definitely a human head.
I can tell by the weight of it and the sound.
It's either someone who's passed out, or more excitedly,
someone who's running for the last train and thinks,
"Shit, I'll miss the last train. Maybe if I cut my head off and throw it on the train..."
"..get my head back, and then roll back to the flat, call a taxi
"and collect my body."
It's not. It's the first one, just a girl who's just "boosh!" - passed out.
Can't move any more.
I think, "How did she even get on the train?"
I can't look round to find out cos I'll make eye contact
with someone and they'll think I want to talk. "Oh, you got a face.
"I've got a face, mate. I was born in Bermondsey, actually."
LAUGHTER Oh, Jesus.
You just sit there, curled up. Luckily, I find out what's happened
because a man announces the history of the evening to us all.
A big South African businessman, he is.
He's carried her onto the train, right.
He's not getting this train, so he needs someone to help her off it,
which, for me, all he needs to do
is tap these two people here, doesn't he?
"Could you help this woman off the train, please?
"I don't know if you can see that, but she's absolutely annihilated!"
MOCK LAUGHS "I'm not actually going to help, I'm leaving now. She's yours.
"OK, take care. Cheerio now. B'bye."
He doesn't do that cos he realises
if he announces to the carriage what he's done, we'll think,
"He's carried a lady onto the train, what a fine gentleman.
"I shall applaud him and carry him wherever he's going."
So instead, he shouts to all of us,
AFRICAN ACCENT: "Somebody's got to help this woman off the train, please!"
SCOTTISH ACCENT: "I've carried her as far as I can, but I can do no more!
SOBBING: "What a world, what a world..."
Born in South Africa, he's travelled.
Very accurate that was.
Anyway, I hated him.
He's the first individual I take time out to hate.
And I'm good at hate, it's my skill.
If it was a superpower, that'd be my thing, hating people.
I can see the back of someone's head for half a second, then go, "Dickhead."
"Who was that?" "Oh, he's gone now, but he's a dickhead, I know he's a dickhead."
I hated this guy for two reasons.
First of all, you're not helping this girl, are you?
You're pretending you are, but you're not.
If she's that drunk, she's better off back with her friends or with the police.
She's not better off hurtling towards Portsmouth at 100mph.
Nothing against Portsmouth - a fine place - but if you wake up there and you don't live there,
that is a problem for you, isn't it?
Anyone here, if you woke up there tomorrow,
your first thought wouldn't be, "Well, what a fine opportunity
"to explore the historic harbour side of Portsmouth."
You'd think, "Shit! I'm in Portsmouth."
Second of all, if we trace back why this girl is that drunk,
it's probably cos an hour ago he was in a bar with her
and he liked her, but he knew his personality was abhorrent,
so what he did instead, every time she asked for a drink, he got her a larger one.
They left together, the air hit her and she passed out.
And he thought, "Oh, I'd better put this one on the train, I broke it."
He's not a hero, is he? He's an arsehole.
He's just dumping a drunk woman on a train, right, so I hated him, right.
But then these two people here - I hate them cos they bailed him out.
They went, "Oh, that's OK, we'll get her off the train."
And I hated them, just for getting involved.
And also because they're drunk, as well.
What's happened is they're drunk,
but she's more drunk, so they've sobered up.
"Oh, is she drunk, is she?
"Don't worry, we only had the 12 Jagerbombs, you see, so..."
"We'll take care of this.
"Do be careful there, I pissed there a little bit, OK?"
Here's how good I am at hate, as well.
At the same time as I'm hating them for getting involved,
I'm simultaneously hating everyone else for not getting involved.
That's really top-level hatred, that is.
"There's a woman in distress here and you did nothing -
"this country's gone to the dogs."
He gets off the train, I start to calm myself down,
we're rattling along, five minutes into the journey
and I'm almost back at base-level hatred, which is still quite high.
And I hear the noise from behind me of a sort of semi-thick liquid
hitting the floor from about three or four feet.
I think, "She's never having a can of soup..."
That's a bold snack for a train, that, isn't it?
Heinz Big Soup, I would say, from the sound of that.
It's not that, is it? She just chundered.
She chundered. "Blergh!"
She wakes up chundering on a train she doesn't remember getting on,
which is obviously upsetting, so she starts crying.
The crying causes her stomach to convulse,
which makes her sick again.
So it's a perfect little sandwich of misery going on behind me there.
HE MOCK CRIES "Bleeergh!"
What that does, of course, is rocket her up the league
to my most hated person on the train.
Relegation zone to Champions League overnight. Unbelievable form, right.
And the reason I hate her is because all I wanted was this seat
and now I've got to move, because sick is coming under the thing...
On my bag and my shoes. And I start looking around at people.
I think, "This is ridiculous now!
"Modern Britain - you can't even get on a train
"without getting someone else's insides ON you!"
I just want someone to look at me and go,
"I know, mate, what a country."
Nobody does. They're all looking at me angry
cos they're as drunk as she is
and they think I'm elevating myself out of this situation.
I can see them looking at me going...
SLURS: "Ooh, look at Mr Clean Shoes. Hic!"
"Mr La-di-da's too good to have our sick all over him, is he?"
"He was sick on me, mate, I didn't move.
"I just pissed on him a little bit."
I realised it's all of us,
everyone in the country is this pissed at the moment.
That's... Bad enough for me, I live here. I knew the signs.
If I hadn't had a gig, I'd be as drunk as everyone else.
But somewhere on this train is a nice little Spanish family.
A nice little Spanish family, come to Europe on their summer holidays
cos they've seen the Olympics.
"Yeah, let's go to London." Cos we told them, didn't we?
"Come to London. We wear matching tracksuits and help each other.
"Do come, do come."
Now they're seeing the truth. This is London.
Now, they're on this train, terrified.
They booked the tickets ages ago, gave them to the kids at Christmas.
SPANISH ACCENT: "Here you go, Javier, here is your Christmas present."
Perfectly serviceable Spanish accent, I ain't changing it.
Just cos you...
Just cos you are frightened by performance.
You've put me out of character now. Hang on, I need to get back in.
SPANISH ACCENT: "Eeh, nachos!" Right, I'm back.
Don't let me lose the rhythm, don't let me lose the rhythm.
SPANISH ACCENT: "Here you go, Javier, here is your Christmas present."
SHRIEKS: "Oh, what is it?! What is it?!"
"I'm going to tell you when I stop laughing at your voice."
"This summer, we're going on our holidays to London town!"
"That's right, London town. But when we get there,
"please don't speak out loud because people will laugh in your face."
"London, 2012 Olympic, London!"
"London, 2012 Olympic London,
"but we're going there in 2013 because it's cheaper."
"Booked us an apartment. It's on the edge of the city,
"so every day we wake up, we have some breakfast,
"we get the train into town, we go to Buckingham Palace,
"we watch a show, you can stay up late every night
"and we get the last train back to the apartment
"in the city of London!"
"Fucking Lo..." "Don't swear."
They're on this train now,
seeing for the first time what London is really like.
They're going to go back and their friends will say...
SPANISH ACCENT: "How was your holiday in London?"
They're going to say... ANGRY VOICE: "Let me tell YOU..."
"..something about London.
"You get the train in London, Jesus Christ."
"You get the train in London, everybody is puking
"and shitting and crying."
"Urgh, puke you!"
"Don't worry, you puke me, mate, I'll piss you!"
"You have to swim out of the train!"
Their friends are going to say,
"Jesus, why was everyone so drunk? Was it a festival or something?"
They're going to go, "No, it was the sunshine come out!"
LAUGHTER AND APPLAUSE
There we go, consider yourselves satirised.
Are you excited for a great evening?
CHEERING Yes, good.
It's time to welcome our first guest.
You couldn't be in better hands. Please, go wild and crazy.
Welcome to the stage the wonderful Sara Pascoe!
CHEERING AND APPLAUSE
Thank you for having me, Hammersmith. I love it.
What a beautiful building and what a beautiful place.
I live in Lewisham, which is...brilliant.
SMALL CHEER Yeah, whoo, Lewisham.
If you haven't been there, just go southeast from here
until you start getting scared, and then you've arrived.
We have something in Lewisham I've never seen anywhere else, right,
which is about six months ago, along our high street
and all the windows of the shops,
they put life-sized stick-on policemen to protect us...
It's so odd, it looks very odd.
The first day I saw this, I was with my boyfriend, I was like,
"Why have they all started selling those?"
Cos I didn't understand.
He went, "No, Sara, they've put them there to deter shoplifters."
Like, what, cos they can't pick them off?!
And then he explained to me, maybe you know this, they've done these studies,
the Government, and it's all to do with the subconscious.
Because of the connotations of law enforcement,
when people see these policemen, they are less likely to steal.
But imagine how successful actual law enforcement would have been.
Cos this means that not only is Lewisham a den of thieves,
they are also the stupidest people in the world, and I'm worried,
because it's working, where's it going to end?
Oh, 22% of people on the 91 didn't realise that
the bus wasn't moving with one of these stick-on drivers.
25% of criminals sent themselves to prison with our stick-on judges.
I'd write a letter to my local politician,
but I'm not sure how high up this goes.
This is more endearing - this is about two months ago -
somebody put up posters all around Lewisham,
saying that they'd lost their homing pigeon.
Right, and I really love animals,
so I kind of stood there reading the poster,
feeling really sorry for the person, like, "Oh, my gosh, they'll be really worried,
"they'll be out frantically looking for their homing...pigeon."
And then the thought struck me, "How?"
"How do you lose a homing pigeon - did they move?"
And then, when you think about it,
if your homing pigeon doesn't come back,
in fact, what you've lost is a pigeon.
So, it's technically impossible - you can't, can you?
Cos it's not relative to terminism, it's defined by its own name.
So you can't have it, can you? Like, "Oh, no, my immortal dog's died.
"Ahh! My bulletproof cat got shot..."
The reason I moved to Lewisham - I'd never been there.
I took the first flat I found on the internet when I was moving in
with my boyfriend.
I've been with my boyfriend for 11 months,
so I'm still in that lovely bit where you cry all the time.
And, um... LAUGHTER
We moved in together after two months,
so I'm aware it was very quick. It was very early in our relationship.
But I just couldn't bear waking up without him in the morning
and he couldn't afford his rent.
And, erm... So it's romantic.
I really wish I could show him to you
cos he has the best body shape that a man can have.
I don't know if you've ever seen a man like this.
He's got very thin arms and legs, very thin,
and then, in the middle, a massive belly.
It's so nice, it's a combination.
He's got bad posture and he eats terribly,
like all carbohydrate-y sugary things.
I tell him all the time how much I love that belly
and he thinks it's because I don't want him to get insecure,
but it's not, it's cos I'm pretending he's having our child.
I love it. I love to stroke it all the time,
and say, "Have another biscuit!"
It's so nice. Now, when you're in a new relationship -
you'll all have had this experience -
it's very exciting for everyone around you.
So people always ask, "Ooh, how's it going?"
And it's such a difficult question to answer.
Like, how are you supposed to actually describe
the feeling of being in love using language?
It, er... It doesn't come anywhere near the truth.
At the beginning, I used to attempt to use analogies.
So people would say, "Ooh, how's it going?"
And I would say, "Oh, it's like I've always been a plant
"but I used to be in a garden centre or a supermarket on a shelf
"and now I'm in the garden."
And, um, you can't say that to people.
I've learned that. Now what happens is people go, "How's it going?"
And I say, "Fine."
And, erm... But then my friend the other day, she said,
"Well, you don't seem very happy."
And I said, "Yeah, that's cos I'm not with him, I'm here with you."
Apparently, that's very rude.
And my friend really told me off. She said, "Actually, Sara,
"it's very important that you stay in contact with your friends."
"But why? I've got him now."
And then she said, "Well, what about if you break up?"
"But if we break up, then I'll kill myself, so I still don't need you."
And we live in a society that considers any relationship
that doesn't last until your death a failure.
That's what really concerns me.
At the start with my boyfriend, I realised how happy I was.
I started worrying that we would break up one day
cos all of my previous relationships have finished
and I don't want that to happen.
And what I found out is...
you shouldn't worry about the ending at the beginning,
it ruins everything and it's illogical.
It's like giving birth to a baby dressed as the grim reaper.
It's like turning up at a job interview and going,
"Oh, what's the point? If you don't sack me, I'll quit."
So I was thinking about other couples.
I thought a lot about Adam and Eve,
cos they, of course, were the original couple.
And sure, at the beginning, it's all magical.
It's all staying up late, counting each other's ribs and laughing...
But, over time, the magic fades.
He's boring, she's off talking to wildlife and comfort eating...
And then their landlord kicks them out,
one of their kids kills the other one.
And if they can't make it work in Paradise,
what chance have I got in Lewisham?
LAUGHTER AND APPLAUSE
We don't have a lot of problems. It is early days.
The two things we have... Me and my boyfriend,
we always have a row when I'm getting dressed
because he thinks it takes too long.
He doesn't understand that I have to try on all of my trousers
because some of my trousers are liars
and they lie about the shape and size of my legs.
And different trousers lie on different days,
so I never know who's going to be doing it
and I have to try them all on.
And I don't know who's behind it - if it's Nato or the Illuminati -
but they're trying to slow me down. And the other thing,
I don't like leaving him alone in the house
because I'm worried he's having sex with somebody that he thinks is me.
My worry is I've got a doppelganger,
someone who looks exactly like me, and he's doing it with her.
The reason is, apart from the start where it was passionate,
I don't think that we have enough sex anymore,
but he says that we have plenty.
Which makes me think he must be having it
with someone he thinks is me...
..when I'm not at home. And that's annoying on two levels.
Like, number one - he's cheating on me behind my back,
and number two - I'm not allowed to have a go at him about it
because he thought it was me.
I mean, what if she said she was me?
That is the kind of thing I would say.
I'm being flippant... It's a very serious subject.
I hope you've never had this experience,
but if you're the one in the relationship who wants to have sex
more than the other person and you get rejected all the time,
what you end up with is sexual frustration.
And that, it's just such a horrible thing.
It's a vicious cycle, it's game over,
because you can't seduce anybody once you're sexually frustrated,
when you need it most.
You can't encourage someone to do it with you by crying with rage.
It doesn't change their mind.
And I've tried talking about it both on stage and to his mum and...
Yeah, for some reason, it's not helping. I can't talk to my mum about it.
My mum's brilliant and I love her and respect her,
but she gives bad advice, especially about sex.
My mum was brought up Catholic.
She thought that was very oppressive, and she tried to liberate me
and my sisters by giving us all of the information, OK?
Too much information.
When I was 11, before I started secondary school,
my mum gave me a lecture about cunnilingus.
Hmm, in preparation for secondary school.
My mum told me what it was and then she said
that whenever I went to bed with a boy,
I was to insist that he do this as a mark of respect.
Now, I look back as an adult and I think,
"Oh, I can see what my mum was trying to do,
"she obviously wanted to empower me to find my own pleasure."
It had the exact opposite effect - it ruins everything.
There is no way you can enjoy yourself
with a man between your legs if you're thinking...
.."Hmm, Mum'd be proud."
Very similar kind of age,
I still would have been in the first year at school, so about 11.
I must have heard somebody using the word "twat".
I must have picked it up
because, in a row with my mum, I called her a twat.
She was very angry but also calm.
And she stopped me. She said, "That is a very ugly word,
"but a very beautiful part of the female anatomy."
And then she drew me a very, very detailed vagina...
LAUGHTER ..as a demonstration of her point.
So obviously what happened was, the next day at school,
I heard somebody calling somebody a twat,
and I marched over and said, "No, actually, it's a very ugly word,
"but a very beautiful part of the female anatomy."
And I drew them a very, very detailed vagina.
So, subsequently, at school for five years
I was known as a raving and predatory lesbian.
Of course, we were children.
We had no idea what a lesbian was,
but it was probably the girl surrounded by self-drawn genitalia,
pushing it on people all the time.
And I would argue that it is better to be called a twat
than Leonardo Da Minge-y.
I don't know if you know, but there's this organisation,
they're called No More Page Three and they want Page Three banned...
SOME AUDIENCE MEMBERS: Whoo! Yeah, whoo!
..not just cos it's objectification, but cos it's so pervasive, it seems acceptable.
Children grow up thinking that that's an OK way to look at women, but ever since they've existed,
there's been a backlash against them, with people pointing out,
and rightly so, we live in the Western world.
No-one is coerced to become a Page Three girl, that is their choice.
Why are feminists oppressing other women?
And also, if you took it away,
how are they supposed to earn their living?
And I did think, I was like, "Yeah, this is an unsolvable problem,"
until I did solve it in a dream.
Guys, we have to make Page Three-like jury duty.
Yes. So, every woman over the age of 18 becomes eligible for Page Three
and then all that happens is one day, you get up,
and there's a letter.
And it says... "Oh!"
.."Dear Sara, please come to the Sun offices
"at 9am tomorrow morning, bring some snazzy pants
"and a pithy quote about Syria..."
And you just have to go and then you have to do it,
because if Page Three represented the whole spectrum
of what it looked like to be a woman,
it wouldn't be objectification any more,
it would just be nudity, it wouldn't be dangerous
because it would show all the different kinds of breasts.
There'd be small ones and saggy ones
and different-sized ones and hairy ones, and men...
Men would still like it cos it's still boobies.
LAUGHTER But the other difference would be to the woman's face
cos at the moment, they're very young, very beautiful women -
it's not them I'm attacking, it's the system.
But their facial expression is coquettish,
so it's permissive, it allows them to be looked at.
What it says to the viewer is,
"Ah! You've just found me in the garden!"
"I haven't got a top on, and you shouldn't really be looking,
"cos you're my best friend's dad!
"But it's OK..."
Whereas, with the new system, the woman on Page Three,
she'll be 52, she'll be a dinner lady...
She'll be aghast and horrified at what they're going to say at work
the next day, and she'll be looking straight down the lens...
..knowing exactly what you're doing.
So, in a way, Page Three might just all die out on its own, mightn't it?
Without anyone having to tell anyone what to do.
When you say things like this, this is what I get now, that people, they attack you by saying,
"It's cos you're jealous.
"You're not as good-looking as these women, you don't want anyone else looking..."
It's not jealousy, I love beautiful women and I like looking at women...
The only thing that makes me jealous is pornography, I don't like my boyfriend watching it.
I do think it's kind of a form of infidelity,
cos he'll be imagining himself having sex with other women,
and I don't understand why he needs to watch it
when I draw him such great vaginas.
LAUGHTER That should be plenty.
He hates being in my stand-up, he doesn't like me talking about him.
He hates what I say about his belly at the beginning...
The first time he saw me do that at a gig, he started a diet,
but he's only lost weight from his arms and legs.
It's worked out well for me.
He also did the nicest thing that anyone's ever done for me, right.
He waited for me after a gig once as a surprise.
He was trying to spice things up.
He waited for me, he had spent all day rewriting the rules
to Trivial Pursuit to make it
Strip Trivial Pursuit...
And he was like, "Come on, Sara, we'll go straight home.
"We'll have a drink, we'll have a sexy time and..."
I don't know if any of you have ever played Strip Trivial Pursuit... Mm?
But let me tell you what it is.
That is you, sitting on a chair with no clothes on, feeling fat,
watching someone fully clothed beat you at Trivial Pursuit.
Thank you so much for having me.
Enjoy the rest of your night. Bye-bye.
WHISTLING AND APPLAUSE
Are you ready for our final act of the evening?
Please go wild and crazy for the wonderful Mr Nathan Caton!
CHEERING AND APPLAUSE
Hello, hello, hello.
Evening, guys. You guys all right?
Good. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Nathan Caton.
I'm from a little town called Greenford, in West London.
SOME AUDIENCE MEMBERS: Whoo!
Really?! You're cheering Green...?!
Y-You've never been there before. Right?
Nah, Greenford... Greenford, it's a nice area...
Greenford's the kind of area, where, like,
everyone thinks they're a bad boy,
but deep down, everyone is soft as shit.
Right? I'll give you a prime example.
Remember a few summers ago, we had the famous riots,
up and down the country, right?
And during the riots, the rioters,
they were targeting the same kind of shops.
You know, Foot Locker, Carphone Warehouse, JD Sports, you know.
The obvious places to loot if you're going to loot.
In Greenford, do you know who they looted?
Yeah, that's how bad-boy Greenford is!
During the riots, there were young kids going,
"Yo, blud! Yo, blud! I want a new hoodie, yeah?
"But I want to make it myself."
Real bad boys do arts and crafts, you get me?
So, that's where I live, I live in Greenford.
Um, I live at home with my mum still.
Thank you for that judgmental silence.
I like to get it out the way from the top, you know?
Cos I've come to realise some people do have a bit of an issue
with the fact that I still live at home with my mum.
I did a gig not too long ago where I got booed off stage for saying
that I live at home, right?
I walked out, I went, "Hey, guys, how you doing?
"My name's Nathan Caton. I'll tell you a bit about myself.
"I still live at home with my family..."
And as soon as I said it, the whole audience went, "Boo! Boo!"
I said, "All right, man. All right, man. Chill out!"
Gosh! That's the last time I do a charity gig for an orphanage.
You're jealous cos my family kept me, piss off!
Nah, sod 'em! Who are they going to cry to?
AUDIENCE: Oh! LAUGHTER
Yeah, I live... So, I do generally live at home, I live at home...
I live with my mum and my stepdad.
They got married quite recently, right?
Now, don't get me wrong, listen, I'm happy for my mum,
she's found happiness, that's great, she deserves it.
However, at the moment, they're still going through that whole...
that honeymoon phase, where they're having sex all the time...
Yeah, that is bloody disturbing, man.
Cos my bedroom is, like, right next door, so every time they do it,
I hear EVERYTHING.
Like, a few Saturdays ago, it's late at night, I'm about to go to sleep.
From next door, I can hear my stepdad going...
"Oh, yes. Oh, yes. Oh, yes.
"Oh, yes. Oh, Lord. Oh, Lord.
"Say something nasty, say something nasty, say something nasty..."
So, I screamed out,
"You're not my real dad!"
Yeah, I showed him!
..Coming in my house, shagging my mum, what an idiot...
So, yeah... Living at home, boy. Um...
I mean, it's not all bad.
There are some good things about living at home, like, um...
The best thing for me is my neighbour.
I've got the best next-door neighbour in the world.
So, an old lady called Mrs Bishop.
Lovely, sweet old lady, but she's overly PC when it comes to race.
She's petrified of appearing racist, right.
So much so that whenever she talks to me or my family,
she never says the word "black".
Instead, she says...urban.
She'll say something like, "Oh, Nathan, Nathan.
"Um, do you know the little, um, the little urban kid from Number 5?
"You know with the big, urban hair? You've seen him, right?"
Mrs Bishop, you don't have to do that, man.
That's dumb on so many levels.
I'm mean, like, firstly, urban is not an adequate replacement
for black, right?
Urban's a city, anyone can be urban.
Two - the word black, it's not racist, it's a colour.
I'm not going to get offended over a colour.
I'm a human being, not a bull.
And three - even if the word black WAS racist,
I still wouldn't be offended if you said it
cos you're black, too.
LAUGHTER AND APPLAUSE
Spit it out, what's wrong with you?
I'm immature. I know I'm immature.
I get told all the time I'm immature.
I think the big reason why I'm so immature is...
It's cos of my mates, right?
A lot of my mates who I hang with, they're very immature. Like, um...
My mate Paul, he's a prime example of how immature we are, right?
My mate Paul, he's, um... He's what I like to call a bit of a lad,
which is basically a man's way of saying,
"He's a bellend, but he's my mate."
That's what a lad is, innit? Like, he's a dickhead, but I've known him for too long
to get rid of him, right?
Paul, he's a typical lad. He does lad things.
Lads say things that are maybe racist, sexist,
misogynistic or homophobic, and then they always justify it
by going, "Banter, innit? Banter, innit?
"Bants, bants, bants, bants, bants," like a proper dickhead...
Paul does it all the time.
I remember one time England were playing Poland,
it was a World Cup qualifier.
And what happened was the FA allocated 18,000 tickets
to the Poland fans, which is like double the normal amount.
Um, Paul found out and he was like, "Yeah, bruv, that's cool.
"If the FA want to let 18,000 Polish people into Wembley Stadium,
"it's the least they could do.
"After all, they probably built the place, innit?
"Ha-ha-ha. Banter, innit, bruv? Banter, innit, yeah?
"Bants, man. Bants, bants, bants, bants."
"Shut up, you idiot."
That's dumb. I mean, firstly that's a lazy stereotype.
Not all Polish people are builders.
Secondly, Wembley Stadium was ?75 million over budget
and four years behind schedule.
That's got British builders written all over it.
LAUGHTER AND APPLAUSE
If you're going to be racist, just be accurate.
That's one thing that annoys me more than racism itself -
lazy, sloppy racism.
Not saying that there's good parts of racism,
but lazy, sloppy racism really gets on my nerves, right.
I'll give you an example of what I mean -
a story which happened during the summer.
Um, there's a black football player called Dani Alves.
He plays for Barcelona.
Now, he was playing one game and during the match,
a fan from the crowd chucked a banana at him.
Just random - "pow!" Right?
Dani Alves is quite cool, didn't let it get to him.
Picked up the banana, ate it, chucked away the skin, right?
Now, when it happened, some of my white friends
were asking me how I felt.
Cos that's what happens every time there's a story in the news
that's linked to black people.
I don't know why. It always happens. Any time...
Like, I guarantee any... One of my white friends will ask me,
not just how I feel, but how black people feel as a whole...
I don't know. We don't all get together and discuss shit.
You don't get PMQs for black people.
You know, we all get together in a room,
a little speaker at the front going, "Order, order, order.
"Come on, black people, let's start proceedings.
"We're already half an hour late cos we all turn up late. Uh..."
"OK, first topic on the agenda,
"now that America have started another horrific war
"in the Middle East,
"is Barack Obama still black or now mixed race? Discuss."
We don't do that. We don't get together.
But I guarantee, any time there's a black story,
my white friends will come to me.
Like, the end of 2013, three of my white friends text me
the same thing, going, "Hey, bruv, I heard about Mandela.
"Are you OK?"
Piss off, man.
Of course I was sad, it's Mandela. I was, I was sad.
I think everyone was sad. I was... I was sad, but also, like...
Right, this might sound weird coming from a black person,
but I don't mind saying it, cos, you know, it's honestly how I felt...
Looking at the love and adoration that was shown towards Mandela
after he passed away, it kind of made me a bit jealous
that here in the UK
we haven't had that same kind of segregation or racism.
How I felt, right?
I mean, obviously, there's logic to it, hear me out.
In South Africa, they had the whole apartheid movement.
As a result, they got inspirational black leaders, you know,
like Nelson Mandela, Desmond Tutu...
In America, they had the civil rights movement.
As a result, they got inspirational black leaders, you know,
like, Malcolm X and Martin Luther King.
Here in the UK, we've had nothing.
As a result, who have we got?
And Howard from the Halifax adverts.
LAUGHTER AND APPLAUSE
Don't get me wrong, I love those guys,
but it's not the same, man, it's not the same.
So anyway, sorry, I've gone off point.
I was talking about Dani Alves,
the black football player who had a banana chucked at him, right?
And I said, after it happened,
my white friends - not being racist -
just casually were asking me how I felt.
Now, how I felt was, I was offended, but not for the reason
that they thought I'd be offended.
I wasn't offended because it was racist,
I was offended because of HOW it was racist, you know?
The guy chucked a banana.
Really? A banana?
What kind of lazy, boring, uncreative racism is that, man?
It's not the 18th century, it's the 21st century.
Black people, we've moved on. We like other things now, you know?
Chuck a Nando's menu, man!
A banana, that's not racism, that's potassium.
I'm not offended by that.
Up your game, bellend. What's wrong with you?
Love sports, man. I'm a massive sports fan.
Me and my mates, always arguing about sports,
always arguing about stuff.
We got into an argument,
me and one of my mates in particular.
We got into a argument at the start of the year.
A former football player, he came out in the news, right,
to reveal that he's gay.
Now, that's cool. Fair credit to him for coming out, that's all good.
However, at the same time, I can't help but think,
"Why is it someone famous revealing that they're gay
"is still seen as a headline?"
You know, it shouldn't be a headline to be gay in today's day and age.
So what? That shouldn't be a headline.
It's like, OK, it's cool, you're gay.
What do you want, a cookie?
Oh, a cock, knock yourself out. Go for it, right.
No big deal, right.
But the weird thing was, after that player came out,
I was talking to a mate of mine, who is gay...
Cos that's what happens every time there's a story in the news
that's linked to gay people.
I was asking him how gay people felt as a whole, right.
I was saying... I was like, "Bruv, I don't get it.
"Why is it a big deal to be gay in today's day and age?
"It's not a taboo, it's normal, it's accepted. It's cool, right?"
But then my mate, he was like, "Nathan, let me stop you there, OK?
"Um, yes, I hear what you mean. The world is more tolerant,
"it's more liberal. Yeah, I get that.
"But, trust me, if someone famous comes out,
"it's still a big issue, innit?
"Cos gay people, we're still seen as a minority, you know?
"Like you being black, for example."
No, it's not.
Like, when I was 17, 18 years old,
I didn't have to gather my family together.
"..um, I've got something to tell you guys, yeah?
"Uh, Mum, remember the other day when you came in my room
"and, um, I was reading the Nando's menu and you asked me why?"
"And, um, Grandma, remember last weekend
"when I picked you up and I was half an hour late for no reason?
"Remember that, yeah?
"Well, basically, it's because I'm, um...
"It's, um, because I'm..."
"What, boy, what? What you is? What you is?"
"It's cos I'm..."
"In my house?! You is? You is?!"
"Yeah, I'm urban."
LAUGHTER AND CHEERING
You guys have been cool. I've been Nathan Caton. Thank you, cheers.
CHEERING AND WHISTLING
Have you had a good time? ALL: Yeah!
Thank you for coming. Ladies and gentlemen, tonight you've seen Sara Pascoe.
Nathan Caton. CHEERING
And from myself, Jon Richardson, see you again soon.
Take care. Good night. Bye-bye!
CHEERING AND APPLAUSE