Episode 12 Russell Howard's Good News Extra

CHEERING AND APPLAUSE

Hello! And welcome to Good News.

One of the best things about my job - I get to choose

loads of great comics to come and do a set on my show.

This is a special edition

showing you all their very best bits, so enjoy.

(DEADPAN) Hello, I'm Mark.

LAUGHTER

MIXED CHEERING

Coo-ee! >

LAUGHTER

Not going to lie, I'm a little bit disappointed with that opening.

There was clapping. That was good, I enjoyed that.

But Russell mentioned, did he not, that I'm a geography teacher?

WHOOPING

The correct response is "Yes, sir."

And that doesn't mean that manners can go out the window.

What do you do when a teacher enters the room?

-Leave!

-Go home!

LAUGHTER

(INAUDIBLE) >

Stand up, so you DO know. We'll try again.

Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome to the stage,

part-time teacher of geography, Mark Cooper-Jones!

CHEERING

Thank you. Thank you.

No, I haven't said sit down.

I haven't said sit down.

I'm afraid that calls for teacher face disappointment level 2.

But you may sit down.

I love X-Men. My favourite X-Man is Professor Xavier,

because that guy is in a wheelchair, but he can move things with his mind.

But that's what I never understood.

Like, if you can move a huge building with your mind,

shouldn't you be able to move your legs with your mind?

Like, I think he was just faking it for a better disability cheque.

And in the new X-Men, there's this mutant, Darwin,

and Darwin's mutant ability is to adapt.

Like, when Darwin put his head underwater, he grows gills.

He adapts. Which is amazing, but this guy's black in 1962 America.

And it's like, hey, if you can grow gills on your face,

you should not be black in 1962.

Adapt! That's your mutant ability, Darwin!

Like, at one point in the movie, the guy had bulletproof skin

and I was like "Dude, you wouldn't need that if you were just white."

MIXED LAUGHTER AND GROANS

I love that I'm doing stand-up on TV. This is amazing, because on TV,

whenever you do a joke about a black guy, what they do is,

they show a black guy in the audience laughing, so you guys know it's OK.

So next time I'm on TV,

I'm going to do a joke about a paraplegic midget,

just to watch the cameraman run around trying to find one

right after I say it.

"We need to find one!" "There's a short guy with a crutch".

"Break his other leg! We don't want to offend anyone!"

Oh, I saw a cab today. It had a sign on it

that said "There's nothing of value in this car",

and there was a man inside, and he looked very sad.

"I'm worthless".

I couldn't afford it, but I went on this ten-day vacation

with my adopted dad, and it was ten days, but no alone time at all.

So by day three of the trip, I end up having to try to wank off

with my dad asleep in the hotel bed beside me.

That's not the worst part.

The worst part was, the whole time I'm doing it,

I had to stare at my dad to make sure he didn't wake up.

And just imagine it from his perspective.

If he woke up, what a harsh reality check that would be on his holiday.

Like, he goes from dreaming,

thinking of this beautiful girl he saw in his dream,

to waking up to his own son wanking off

while staring at him while he's asleep,

pretending that mole on his bald head

is a weird nipple on an ugly tit.

Before this, I used to be a businesslady,

and I quit because of the glass ceiling effect,

which is the same reason I left the British Museum.

For that joke to work,

you have to know what a metaphorical glass ceiling is.

Then you've got to know

that the British Museum has got the biggest ever glass ceiling,

and then you've got to think it's funny, so...

It's a bit of a tall order.

But I like this job, because you get to work from home quite a lot,

and I like working from home, because you can investigate different things.

Like, if you've run out of milk, this is a good tip,

if you run out of milk, you can put yoghurt in your coffee,

and it totally ruins it.

So I'm engaged, no surprises there.

Someone's laughing more than they should at that.

And it's lovely. Mainly for him, but it is. I love him!

It's really nice. But, um...

It's kind of weird, right, because I've only just got round

to telling people that I've got a boyfriend.

I think loads of people do this.

If you're in a social situation, you don't want to tell people

that you've got a boyfriend, because you don't want to ruin their lives.

Come on, we've all been there.

And I realised that this was ridiculous

when someone did it to me, and I didn't even fancy him.

I'll explain what happened.

He's a stand-up, so I can't say his name, and I had known him

for about six months, and he had never mentioned a girlfriend.

That's quite a long time, right?

I would have liked to hear about his girlfriend, because I'm quite nosy.

And he'd never mentioned it,

so he must have thought that I fancied him, and I did not.

And this was how I deduced all of this,

because we were walking to a gig, and his girlfriend was coming later,

but I didn't know she was coming to the gig.

So we were walking to the gig and I said to him,

"I'm just going to get a packet of Wotsits"...

because I like Wotsits, and I tell it like it is.

And here's what he said -

"Oh, my girlfriend likes Wotsits."

So then I've got to show the appropriate facial reaction

to "I know you've just mentioned the G-bomb, but I'm not bothered",

while also showing the appropriate facial reaction to...

"Someone else likes Wotsits?"

There's a lot going on. So I went with this.

And then I said "I'll get her a packet if you like",

which does sound bitter.

Guess we'd better sort some things out straight from the top, yeah?

Deal with some issues. First of all, let's deal with the audio.

What's going into your earholes, mate? I'm not from here.

I'm from somewhere else, from New Zealand.

There's something about the New Zealand accent, isn't there?

I'll tell you what it is. It's sexy.

Oh, yeah, I know a few of you ladies

have been affected in the downstairs region already.

There's a lot of moisture in the air tonight.

It is such a sexy accent, I wouldn't be surprised

if some of you ladies walked away a little bit pregnant tonight.

It's one of those risks.

It's also sexy enough that there's probably a couple of guys

tonight going "Oh, my God, I've got a semi on".

And now all the posh people are sitting there going "Semillon?

"That's a lovely glass of wine. Mmm, I love a vintage Semillon."

So that's the audio dealt with. Tick that box. We are moving on...

to the visuals, or the viz-u-als, if you're a dick.

I'm quite a hairy man, I don't mind admitting that.

Any other hairy men in the room? Come on, roar like the bears you are!

MEN GROWL

"Grr! Not really a grizzly bear, more a teddy bear! Go on!

"Put me in the room with your kids!" Awkward. Awkward, right.

But at least you admit it,

because there's too many guys out there who are hairy,

and they don't admit it because they think the ladies don't like it,

because for too long, society has been telling us

that the ladies don't like body hair on a man. For too long...!

..The movies have given us hairless men

and told us they are beautiful. For too long...

Magazines have said a hairy man is not your ideal man.

But guess what, ladies? You love it.

Oh, openly you don't admit it,

but deep down you know there's nothing better

than rubbing your face into the downy softness of a man's back.

Oh! It's one of life's little gifts!

You have not spooned until you've spooned

and got your face tickled at the same time.

But we all know that famous saying.

"If you want great nookie, bag yourself a Wookiee."

We all know that.

I like to play a game

whenever I go to the supermarket with my girlfriend,

where I try to think of something I can yell to her

that makes everybody there think that she's crazy.

And we were there and I was by the cart and she was 20 feet away

and I yelled to her "You know what? I AM going to get toilet paper.

"I don't think it's a waste."

And then everybody looks at her

like she's some crazy toilet paper vegan.

Often, when I'm touring, before a show

I'll have a lot of time to kill, so I'll sit at a bar.

I don't know if you do it here,

but in the States, whenever you order a drink,

they give you a napkin with your drink.

And one thing I like to do is write a little note on the napkin

and then put it back at the bottom of the pile

so that in a few weeks, somebody gets a message from me.

And I found a bunch of napkins that I wrote a ton of stuff on,

but never put back in the pile, that I wanted to share with you.

So here we go. Here they are.

"Cheer up, fatty!"

"It's OK to lie to old people."

"This napkin gives you permission to talk about politics,

"even though you're drunk and uninformed."

"You can lead a horse to water. Congratulations, fuckface."

"You are an alchemist who can turn six beers

"into an awkward three-week relationship."

You are.

"Don't shit where you sleep either."

And then of course, lastly, "Have a baby. It'll save your marriage".

Sad to get, but wonderful to leave.

I was in an elevator, because I have the money, and it was really small.

It was this big, really small and crowded,

and a guy sarcastically goes,

"There's probably bigger elevators than this in Russia!"

Probably.

That's not one of the pre-agreed-upon stereotypes of Russia.

You can't just make up random information

and say it sarcastically to replace actual information.

I'd be like "I was on a date with this French girl.

"She was more rude than a wolfcat"...

..an animal I made up and decided was rude.

Last summer, I was in Manchester.

England, not New Hampshire, as you're assuming.

And I was walking around. It was pretty late.

It was midnight, or one, and I was trying to get back to my hotel

and this guy came up to me and said

"Excuse me, are you from around here?"

And I was like, "No". And he was like "Great". That's not good.

That is not a person who wants time or directions.

He is excited I'm lost.

And I slowly start walking away and he gets mad and he goes

"Everybody thinks I want money!"

And I was like "I don't know what you want, I'm just leaving."

And then he gets even more mad and he goes

"I've just got off the bus. I'm from Czechoslovakia".

And I was like, "I have some very bad news for you, sir.

"Your country has been dissolved.

"I don't know when you got on the bus, but it must have been the '90s,

"because your country no longer exists".

The problem is, the world's a mess at the moment

and nobody really cares about anything.

Like you, what do you care about? See, nothing.

But we do, and we've become revolutionaries.

I'm not going to say we're like Che Guevara,

but pretty much every T-shirt on every campus in the country

is soon to have our faces emblazoned upon it.

Yeah, like this one - fuck, I forgot to put it on.

SOMBRE PIANO MUSIC

I believe it was Malcolm X that said "By any means necessary."

So we're going to march down to Parliament Square hand in hand,

linked together.

No matter how much the riot police bang their batons

against their shields, no matter how much they push against us,

we will not break hands and we will not break that link.

Unless there's a car coming or one of us got to go toilet.

Because revolution is about breaking down fences.

No Chaka Demus, just Pliers,

handing out flyers about the revolution,

saying that we've got to stand together,

march together, fight together and yeah, die together.

Not us, we're admin.

But this revolution is about kicking down the doors of Primark

saying "Hey, brothers, rumour has it

"that you've sourced materials from sweatshops?

"If that's true, stop it.

"Now, pass me a basket, that's not the only reason why we came here.

"My mum needs new knickers." This revolution is now!

Conservative Government of the '70s and '80s, you shut the coal mines,

and that uncompromising legacy still reverberates through these times.

So Margaret Thatcher, we're comin' atcha,

like Cleopatra, coming to catch ya.

Oh, but you're dead, so we'll punch Meryl Streep instead.

# Marching, fighting Shaking our fists in the air

# Which is a universal sign of anger. #

Look, let's start sharing, caring, yeah?

What's yours is mine, what's mine is yours. You, look.

Here, have my sock. That is yours. Can I have your...wallet?

Well, give me my sock back, then, you fascist pig.

We will not use wealth or peerage to enter Parliament.

We will use intelligence, and guerrilla tactics.

"Look, security, a gorilla".

And while the security man is looking for a gorilla,

we'll go past and say "Hey, MPs,

"we've got to change what our reality is doing to our kids.

"Start putting down some proper bids. Stop wearing your bullshit bib."

"What's a bullshit bib?"

"You know".

# We are holding a revolt

# We are revolting. #

So let's start sharing and caring, yeah?

And let's all bow our heads

and remember those that have died in violence with a minute of silence.

MUSIC STOPS

-Actually, a minute's a bit long.

-It is quite long.

My teaching career began with a reception class

in a primary school as a teaching assistant.

They were aged four to five years old. It was loads of fun.

They have so much energy. There is nothing funnier than a fat child...

So I began in primary school.

And yes, I did have a favourite. His name was Peter.

His best line of written work read "An egg is cold...

"..like the sun."

Possibly the worst analogy I've ever encountered.

I put it on a wall display.

But there was another occasion when the class were all changing for PE.

Always a nightmare.

The number of five-year-olds who cannot pull down their shorts

without their pants needs to be addressed by parents.

And the girl next to Peter had accidentally done this

and pulled everything down, and Peter's reaction was very sweet.

He simply went...(GASPS)

"No!"

Lovely child. When I came to leave the school,

Peter was a bit upset that I was leaving,

and I got a bit upset that he was upset.

Until, that is, ladies and gents, he gave me this as a leaving present.

AUDIENCE: Aww!

Now...

Never mind the fact that Mark is spelt not only with a C,

but with a U...

Never mind the strange picture of a pink bunny

about to commit suicide off the top of this house.

We can even ignore the disproportionate size

of the tree trunk.

The picture is of a girl!

So I'm just delighted to be here, really.

I feel a bit like Niall Horan in One Direction, you know what I mean?

For those of you who don't know,

One Direction is like a group of singing children

made up entirely of fringes and inappropriate thoughts.

And Niall is like the Irish one, and he's just so happy to be there,

because the group is made up of four angels, and Niall.

And Niall is just a normal lad.

He is all of us, and he's just delighted to be there.

You always see the camera panning out across them all.

And it's like

# You're insecure Don't know what for

# You're turning heads as you walk through the do-o-or!... #

Yeah, and there's Niall at the end,

not doing the same things as anyone else, just clicking away, winking.

Winking's like Irish heroin. You know what I mean?

Everyone says, "Aisling, you shouldn't be so hard on Niall,"

because he's the one in the group, but you know

that he is hoovering up the punani that the pretty ones don't want.

Just delighted to be here!

Everyone says, "Aisling,

"you shouldn't really be into One Direction, it's so uncool."

But lads, One Direction say thank you to their mothers,

they don't hit women, and one fifth of them

is currently the only thing supporting the Irish economy.

The reason Nick Clegg mainly frustrates me

is because of the way he speaks. That gets to the heart of the problem.

Sometimes, politics needs flashes of colour.

It's not always about what you're saying,

it's the way you say it. And to demonstrate this point,

I would like to read aloud

from the seminal political text, The House At Pooh Corner by AA Milne.

Now, there are two oratorical styles

that I believe are the best styles for delivering politics.

One is the Tony Blair, who is a phenomenal orator. Stuff like this.

(RISING INTONATION) So he does the big stuff, like this!

(LOWERS VOICE) And then makes it personal.

Oh! Ugh!

Hits you, doesn't it? Really gets you.

And the other is the generic northern union rep.

I'll come on to him in a minute. I'll do it firstly as Nick Clegg.

So I'll read out this passage, and you'll see that these words

literally fail to leap off the page.

"As it happened, it was Rabbit who saw Piglet first.

"Piglet had got up in the morning

"to pick himself a bunch of... violets.

"And when he picked them

"and put them in a pot in the middle of his house,

"it suddenly came over him

"that nobody had ever picked Eeyore a bunch of...violets.

"The more he thought about this, the more he thought how sad it was

"to be an animal who had never had a bunch of violets picked for him."

Boring, stiff, Clegg.

Now, just you feel this...

in the voice of the master, Tony Blair.

(AS TONY BLAIR) "But as it happened,

"it was Rabbit who saw Piglet first.

"Piglet got up early that morning to pick himself a bunch of violets.

"And when he'd picked them,

"put them in a pot in the middle of the table, it suddenly came over him.

"No-one had ever picked Eeyore a bunch of violets.

"And the more he thought about this, the more he thought how sad it was

"to be an animal who'd never had a bunch of violets picked for him."

Ooh! Tony, Tony!

Forget the war in Iraq, just get him to read children's stories.

Come back, Tony!

Now, the generic northern union rep,

all you need to know about this is, they do not pause for breath.

And whatever it is they're talking about,

there is a deep injustice at the heart of it.

QUICKLY AND AGGRESSIVELY: "It was Rabbit who saw Piglet first.

"And when he put them in a pot in his house it suddenly came to him

"that no-one had picked Eeyore a bunch of violets and the more he thought about it

"the more he thought how sad it was to be an animal

"who'd never had a bunch of violets picked for him!" Conference!

I used to work with this guy called Colin.

We were like a couple of dummies together,

and I really liked him, because he made me feel good about myself.

And one day, I was printing off pictures of dogs' heads...

Because my friend's scared of dogs, and I like a prank!

And I was trying to get them on a big sheet of paper, like,

bigger than A4. A3.

Because a big dog's head, let's face it, is funny.

But they kept coming out in A4.

So in between everyone else's work, it was like work, work, work,

and a dog's head.

This happened for quite some time.

And Colin, bless him, he was behind the printer,

and he was like, he was flabbergasted.

He said "Lou, there's something wrong with the printer.

"It keeps printing out dogs' heads!"

I was like, "I'll just check the manual on that one, Colin".

And then he said, I swear, he said:

"I did see a little dog round here!

"You don't think he got in, do you?"

I love a good bus journey.

The key to a good bus journey is having no-one sit beside you.

So what do we all do?

We put our bag down, as if people are going to walk by and be like

"Oh, I can't sit there, that person looks a lot like a bag",

and then keep walking.

No, they'll be like "Move your bag, you're no better than me,

"we're both on the bus, man."

Like, if you don't want anyone to sit beside you on a bus,

I will tell you all exactly what you have to do.

Just act really excited for them to sit beside you.

Just make solid eye contact and say

"This is the seat for you. You can sleep here.

"It'll be the last time."

Like, I try not to be creepy, I'm just not very good at it.

I was sitting on a bus and I was staring at this girl

and, like, fantasising, and then I noticed this other dude

staring at the same woman and fantasising, which is weird,

because now I feel like I'm in a psychic gang bang.

Like me and this homeless dude

are spit-roasting a chick on a bus in our minds.

And then the guy looks at me and goes "Yeeeah!"

And I didn't know what to do, so I was just like "Yeeeah!"

What did I just agree to? What does that even mean?

I saw a lady drop a baby. Accidentally.

She wasn't like "I don't want this baby any more".

It was an accident, but she dropped a baby,

and a baby's the worst thing to drop in the world,

because if you drop a cellphone,

you can do that trick where you put your foot out to catch the phone.

But you cannot do that with a baby,

or it really just looks like you're drop-kicking a baby.

And nobody is for that, we found out that day.

I don't even like staying in, to be honest with you,

because when you stay in, you have to watch television,

and I don't like much of the television I'm watching -

well, that my wife chooses, certainly. Like, she loves X Factor.

I don't know if there are any X Factor fans in?

SILENCE

OK.

LAUGHTER

My problem with X Factor, right, is that they take people

that are desperate to be famous, desperate to get on television.

Some of them are mentally unstable.

And they take these people and they make them judges.

LAUGHTER AND APPLAUSE

And we've got to watch this?

And the thing is, they distil every contestant into their sob story.

That's how much they're worth.

So I'm watching the last series and they go to the judges' houses,

and a guy comes out, one of the contestants,

and he goes "I mean, you know, my brother's not very well.

(TEARFULLY) "He said that his one wish... you know...

"Would be to see me...

"In that studio. And it's just..."

(NORMAL VOICE) And I think that's incredible,

because I think if I was in that guy's position,

my one wish might be to get better.

Here we have somebody that's willing to throw that away

so that his brother can do an Adele cover.

I mean, my wife has told me

that she doesn't want me interacting too much with the children, right,

because she says that they're sponges

and I've got certain views,

and she doesn't want me passing them on to the kids.

For example, I've got an issue with charity.

Not a massive issue - I think donating to charity's a great thing.

My problem is that it's become a bit of a consumer experience.

Right, like, there'll be a big cause or a situation or an issue.

I'll do something very small for that cause,

and I'll cease to feel bad about it. Like, I'll actually feel a bit good.

If somebody's got a collection box, I'll walk up to the collection box

and put some money in it and then I'll go

"Don't worry about the sticker, mate", like I'm a fucking hero.

Like that guy is watching me walk away going "You know what?

"He just put 50p in this box to stop the onset of disease.

"He didn't even want a sticker! I think I've just met Jesus!

I find the concept of child sponsorship depressing.

I find it depressing that in order for us

to donate money from our comfortable lives,

we have to have these issues attached to a person,

and this person has to write us letters saying "Thank you so much."

That's not what these letters should say.

These letters should say "I'm so glad

"you decided to halve your chocolate consumption for a month

"so that I can have clean water, you fat prick."

That's what they should say, isn't it?

I don't understand our attitude towards beggars.

I gave some money to a beggar recently at a train station,

and a guy working at the train station came up to me and said

"You can't give money to beggars, mate". I said "Why not?"

He said "It encourages begging."

I mean, that's simple supply and demand, my friend,

I don't know what the problem is.

I said "Why is that such an issue?"

He said "He's only going to spend that money on drugs.

I mean, that makes a massive assumption -

that I was going to spend that money on something better.

I didn't have a very sophisticated adolescence.

I feel like inherently, I'm a bit laddy.

Like, my friends and I would go to strip clubs,

gentlemen's clubs, as they were euphemistically called.

Never saw many gentlemen there. Saw a loss of horrible-men.

A few disgusting-men.

Some sad and disenfranchised-men,

but never many Edwardian gentlemen

raising their monocles and top hats in appreciation

as the emaciated coke addict slid down the waxen pole,

reaching the ground, legs akimbo, interior walls visible.

If those walls could talk,

they would say "Gentlemen, you have lost your way."

I'm going to read you this article now,

which exemplifies what I mean about injecting fun into life.

I'm playing the dating game at the moment.

I don't know about you guys,

but I thought games were supposed to be fun.

Sometimes I think I'd rather be playing Jumanji.

I'm joking, of course, that would be horrid.

But dating's no picnic either,

so I want to read this article about alternative dating ideas

from a popular London lifestyle listings magazine.

Alternative dating ideas for Londoners.

It's pretty London-centric,

but you'll probably get some of this stuff out in the provinces

in a couple of years as well.

OK, I'm just going to read it. Could you play the romantic music, please?

SULTRY MUSIC PLAYS

"Looking for innovative dating ideas this weekend?

"Well, you should be, you fucking little rat.

"Everybody your age group and socio-economic bracket is dating,

"so you should be, too, you waste of sperm.

"Here are our top ten alternative dating ideas for Londoners.

"Number one, a salsa class.

"Learn how to make salsa at one of London's many salsa schools.

"Number two, comedy on a bus.

"Laughter can be a perfect icebreaker on a first date, but on a bus?

"This is comedy like you've never experienced it before.

"Three, pebble washing in the Thames.

"The Thames Museum runs free workshops where every Sunday,

"budding pebble washers,

"or Jefferies, as they used to be called for no reason,

"can take to the horrible river bank

"and wash the pebbles in baby oil, which is like sunflower oil,

"but extracted from babies.

"When the 16 hour session is finished,

"why not relax by a burning pile of bin bags

"with a steaming bowl of live mice?

"Number four, a tour of the Tube. We take the Tube for granted.

"We ride it to and from work each day, and when we get home, we cry.

"But the Tube is full of amazing hidden secrets.

"Did you know some of the stations are very old?

"Ride around on the Tube together,

"and bring a wry smile to your date's face

"by showing them the Nemi cartoon in that day's Metro.

"Number five. Jazz on a roof.

"Tapping along to the crazy rhythms of jazz

"can be the perfect icebreaker on a first date, but on a roof?

"This is jazz like you've never experienced it before.

"Six, a ceilidh. For a taste of the Celtic,

"why not pay a Scottish or Irish woman called Kayleigh

"to let you have a bite of her body?

"Seven, cocktails in a tree.

"Zesty fruit and frontal lobe-numbing alcohol

"can be the perfect icebreaker on a first date, but in a tree?

"This is a cocktail experience like you've never had before,

"nor ever will want to have again. Eight, visit the National Gallery.

"Nine, karaoke in a bin, blah, blah, blah. Ten, a sewer walk.

"Without permission or supervision, climb into London's sewer system.

"And take a look around. But be warned, you will die."

A great way to, like, teach children about death is with pets.

Psychologically, it's a great way to teach children about death.

So, you know, you buy your child a hamster, and after five years,

when it's attached to it, you break its neck,

and then you go "Right, now I'm going to teach you

"about what's going to happen to Granny very soon,"

you know what I mean?

And then you die, and the circle continues.

But when I was growing up, we had this pet rabbit called Bubbles,

and, like, Bubbles, I thought, had a great life,

just running around, pooing in our shoes.

I was like, "There's a guy who knows how to party."

But you never know what's going on inside someone's head, lads,

and one night Bubbles got out of his hutch,

and he bit away at the wire in his hutch like this,

until it sort of came out in a long spear.

And then he turned himself around

and he reversed his arsehole onto that spear,

and it punctured every single organ on the way up.

They say he died of a broken heart in the end.

So the next morning,

my mother had to sort of, you know... him off the wire,

and it was up to my neighbour, Jim Murphy, to bury Bubbles the rabbit.

So Jim dug a grave for Bubbles as he remembered him,

which was a small little rabbit like this.

But when rabbits die, they don't die as they were,

they die with their arms longer than their ears

and their legs longer than their short lives.

So my first memory of death

was basically standing in front of this grave

with Jim Murphy in front of me going

"In the name of the Father and of the son and of the Holy Spirit, amen.

"Dear Jesus, we give you Bubbles the rabbit to bury,

"to go to heaven with all the other angel rabbits."

And I couldn't believe it, there was Jim Murphy in front of me,

kind of shoving Bubbles into the grave

at the end of his welly boot like this.

And still to this day, lads, whenever I have bad sex,

I can't help but be reminded of Jim Murphy

shoving that flaccid rabbit into a hole that was made for a live one.

You know?

I don't drink. I quit thinking three years ago.

Whenever people find out that you don't drink,

they always ask the same question. They always ask why.

Why do people ask why? It's never going to be a happy story.

"Why do I not drink any more?

"Well, I just found that I was too successful."

That conversation's never happened.

Stag dos are difficult when you don't drink,

because invariably, you end up at a lap-dancing club

and the woman comes over and she's like, "Ask me anything",

and I'm like, "Aren't you cold?"

Just not in the right headspace.

Weddings are even worse when you don't drink,

because the bride thinks she's doing you a favour

by putting you on the non-drinking table,

but this is basically just pregnant women.

Sorry if there's any pregnant women in tonight, but you are dull.

Pregnant women walk around

like they've got the future hopes of a generation in there,

like it's John Connor or something.

That reference isn't going to work for all of you.

And you try to make conversation.

You're like, "Do you know if it's going to be a boy or a girl?"

And they're always like,

"Ooh, we don't want to know". And I'm like, "Me neither.

"Couldn't give a toss what's up there".

There was a report out recently which said that the happiest people

are those who average two glasses of wine,

a bottle of beer or a shot of spirits a week.

Who were they surveying, the under-fives?

And who's this guy who's averaging a shot of spirits a week?

Like every Friday, he's like, "Hi, guys!

"God, what am I like? See you Monday".

My kids live down in Hampshire with their mum,

and they come up and stay with me a lot in London.

The last time they came to London,

they were like "Daddy, we really want to go on a London bus."

They may have said the London Eye.

I took them on a London bus.

You still get to see London, but from a bus.

They, like all kids, wanted to sit on the back row, but the problem was,

sat in the middle of the back row was this really angry looking hoodie.

Now, we all know the rules of the bus.

You don't sit anywhere near this character.

But they don't know the rules of the bus,

because they're only kids,

and they plonk themselves down one either side of him.

They're oblivious to the danger that they're in,

and they just start playing their game of

"I spy with my little eye something beginning with K".

Now, this puts our hoodie in a bit of a quandary,

because if he moves,

he looks like he's just been bounced off the back row

by a couple of kids from Hampshire.

But if he stays there, they look like they're his crew.

I've positioned myself a couple of rows up. I'm not stupid.

If this kicks off, I want to be able to make a quick getaway.

But the hoodie realises he looks ridiculous, so to save face,

he decides to join in the game.

He's like, "Tell me this, little man, yeah? That K you were spying.

"Is it cones?"

The reason this was a potentially incendiary situation

is that anyone here who's got a little nine-year old girl

will know that the distinguishing factor of little nine-year-old girls

is that they don't let anything go. So she's like "Daddy? Daddy?"

I'm pretending I don't know her.

She's like "Daddy, cones isn't spelt with a K".

Don't anger the man!

"It is in London, darling."

Then she looks at the hoodie dead in the eyes and goes

"But knife is".

Like she's mocking him! At which point the hoodie gets off the bus.

It's his stop, but the rest of the bus don't know this.

To them, it looks like he's just been psyched out by a nine-year-old girl.

It didn't help that she followed him down going

"Yeah, keep walking, bitch".

You've been really nice. I'm going to come to the end of my set now.

But you've been lovely. This is to you.

# Fishing for compliments Hey, that's a nice jumper

# Fishing for compliments That's a nice sentiment

# La la la la La la la, la la la

# Fishing for compliments Hey, that's a nice jumper

# Fishing for compliments That's a nice sentiment

# La la la la, la la la... # OK!

-What's your name?

-Jordan.

-Jordan!

Jordan, he must be very excited about his compliment.

OK, Jordan.

"If your face was on currency, I would have a very sticky purse."

The thing is, I want my daughters both to have New Zealand passports,

so when they turn 15, they have to bungee jump,

because that's what I did.

When I was 15, I did a bungee jump off a bridge over a river,

and they measured the bungee out so that my head got dunked in the river.

It was pretty scary. But I came up with a wild salmon in my mouth, so...

Good times.

And then I moved over here

and found out you guys were doing bungee jumps

off cranes over car parks!

What the hell is wrong with you people!

And did you hear about the guy that measured the bungee up wrong,

so his face went straight into the car park!

But he came up with Richard III in his mouth, so...

Good times. Good times.

Historical AND topical.

Ooh, you're probably wanting us to end on a song about jogging. Good.

# Where have you been, son?

# Why are you looking so tired and worn and weary? #

I've been for a run, Ma.

# Where have you been, son?

# Why has Mr Windy been sweeping through your hair? #

I've been for a run, Ma.

# Where have you been, son?

# Why are your snowdropped eyelids so heavy? #

Are you fucking deaf?

I said I went for a run, you fat cow.

-We've been Ginger and Black.

-Thank you very much.

Hope you enjoyed that. Thanks very much for watching.

Good night, my friends. Good night!

Subtitles by Red Bee Media Ltd