Michael McIntyre: Showman (2020) - full transcript

Ladies and gentlemen,
please welcome to the stage

Michael McIntyre!

Bravo!

Good evening, ladies and gentlemen!

Welcome...

...to my Netflix special!

Let's do this!

Thank you!

If I'm honest with you,
I wanted to be in slightly better...

physical condition

for... f-for the special.



I planned on it,

but, you know, it's not really happened.

I wouldn't have mentioned it,
it's just that this suit was cut

bespokely for my body about a year ago,

and it's not a body I have anymore,
unfortunately.

It's got a little clingy, a bit tuggy.

I've found I have to express myself,

gesticulate, below this line.

You'll see mostly
I'll need to express myself

down here tonight,

because, when I raise my arms beyond that,

this has started.

Jacket boobs, ladies and gentlemen.

An incredibly unfortunate side effect



of the tight jacket.

I've got a bit chubby cheek, chubby cheek.

I've got the old chubby cheeks
going on at the moment.

Um...

Unfortunately,
due to the chubby cheek situation,

um, a few problems.

I got a phone, um,

I don't know when it was,
about a year ago.

The new iPhone. It's got Face ID.

When you first get it, you look at it,

it maps your face,
and then it remembers you.

Every time you look at it,
it becomes unlocked.

Not from a code, just from your face.

Well, now my phone no longer recognizes...

my fat face.

Just stares at me as if to say,
"Who's that fat thief?

Have you stolen Michael's phone?"

I can unlock it, but I have to do this.

Mmm. Mmm.

It's 'cause I'm getting older, you see.
My wife and I, we're the same age.

Little things have started changing.
For years, everything was the same,

but now we can feel it creeping in.

It's not exactly old age,
but little... little differences.

For example, we can't stay up at night.

We... We pass out.

Every single--
About 9:30 is a late one for us.

We get so tired.

You know when you click
on the Netflix thing

and it goes "boom-boom"?

That's the sound of my wife and I's head
hitting the pillow and passing out.

We can't get beyond it.

Another thing
that's started happening now...

which, I have to say,
I'm not proud of this.

I'm actually very disappointed

that this has happened
so young in my life.

It's not happening every night.

But I have started, occasionally,

waking up in the middle of the night
needing a pee...

...which is a very depressing development.

There's an elder gentleman
who applauded that.

What a... What a funny moment.

"I'm there with you, my friend."

My bladder used to be fine.

Like many young bladders in this room,
I'd go to sleep at night.

I'd be like, "Night, blad."

My bladder would be like,
"Night, Mikey. Sleep well."

"I will."

I'd wake up in the morning,
my bladder's like, "Look,

we are full down here,

but no cause for alarm.

Next time you're passing the loo,
I will need emptying.

But chill out, relax, no rush on this.

Have some breakfast, have some juices.

Have some smoothies.
Tea, coffee, whatever you want.

Cereal, more milk, don't mind if you do.
I've got this...

till at least noon."

Well, not anymore.

Now, when I'm deep asleep
in the middle of the night,

my bladder sends messages to my brain

to give me dreams that I'm pissing myself.

This is how it wakes me up.

I'm having a normal anxiety dream.

I'm back at school.

I'm in an exam I haven't revised for.

I'm just having a weird dream,
and then I look down...

Oh, and I've peed my pants as well.
I wake up in a panic!

Have I pissed my pants?

I look down, my bladder's like, "Nearly!

We've got to go now! Up!

Now!"

And you lie there,
"But I don't want to get up.

It's three o'clock in the morning,
I don't want to."

And you fight it,
but your bladder's insistent.

"I'm afraid you have to wake up,
it's a very dangerous situation down here.

I don't think I can handle it."

So that involves getting out of the bed
and going around the bed,

out of the door, into the bathroom,
which is over there, right?

Round the bed because my wife is there,
she's closest to the door.

That's her side.

This is my side, that's her side.

It's been that way for 20 years.

It will never, ever change.
We all have our sides.

Have you ever gone on to
your partner's side?

It's the weirdest sensation!

"It's the same room,
but it looks really weird from here!

I don't like it!"

So I've got to go round the bed,
and I can't wake her up.

I cannot wake my wife.
If my wife is awoken in the night,

she won't get back to sleep,
she'll blame me, she'll be up.

"Why'd you have to wake me up?
Why do you make so much noise?"

So I have to make sure she stays asleep.
And also, if she wakes up in the night,

she will inevitably go on her phone,

which means she will inevitably buy shoes.

She buys so many shoes

on her phone on online shopping.

She-- She buys shoes
when she's in the bath,

she buys shoes at traffic lights,

she bought a pair of shoes
on the way up a roller coaster.

She's addicted.

It's costing a fortune.

Little bit of an insight
into how bad it is.

The other night,
I was lying in bed on my laptop.

She's next to me on her mobile phone.

The children are both in the room as well,
they're both on iPads,

and the television is on in front of us.

It's a wonderful, modern family scene.

It's not like we don't chat as a family.

Sometimes there's a WhatsApp ping
and we discuss whose phone it was.

"Ping!" "Was that you? I think it was me."
"I think your phone just went."

"Thank you, right you are."
And then we get back to our devices.

I was on internet banking at the time.

I could see money

coming out of the account in real time.

Every time I refreshed it,
we had less money in the bank!

"You are doing this right now, darling?"

"But these shoes are so beautiful,
darling! I just had to! I just had to!

If it upsets you, stop refreshing."

"Please, leave us something
for the morning!"

So I can't wake her up, can't wake her up.
It's gonna cost a fortune.

So I've got to creep round,
get to the loo.

That is easier said than done,
on account of the floorboards.

I never realized we had creaky floorboards

until I started creeping around on them
in the middle of the night.

I've never noticed the floorboards
make a noise in the daytime.

As soon as my foot...

steps out of the bed
in the dead of night...

I can see my wife stirring in her sleep.

Her arm is subconsciously reaching
for her mobile.

"No!"

I try and find a non-creaky...

"Fuck!"

After a while, I just leg it.

Everything makes a noise in the night.
Everything.

I didn't even know...

we had an extractor fan

until I started peeing in the night.

I'll go into the loo,
you turn the lights on...

What are we extracting?
I haven't started yet.

It's the loudest thing in the world!
It's gonna wake my wife up!

And there's not two switches.
There's not a switch...

There's not a switch for light

and a switch for...

extraction.

They're on the same circuit.

So if you want the light on,
you have to go...

which will definitely wake my wife up.

So it means peeing...

in the darkness.

Because it's all about sound,

you have to be very sensitive to noise,

'cause you're waiting for the splash.

But you can't pee into the water,

that's too noisy.

That will wake my wife up.

So you wait for the water,
and then immediately retreat...

...to find the sweet spot of the bowl

surrounding the water.

Yes! This acknowledgment of night peeing!

Darkness urination.

And sometimes you're peeing and you hear
a different sound, you know, like, "Ooh,

I think that's the floor.
I'm peeing on the floor.

I've overcompensated."

Then you put the light on.

"Yep, I've pissed on the floor."

Then you have to get the loo roll out,

you throw that down.

You create a sort of foot mop situation,

as you remove your own pee
from the bathroom floor.

"How's your life going, Michael?"
"Well, I'm just foot-mopping piss

at 3:20 a.m.

Other than that, really, really happy."

Then it's back to bed.

Soon as I get into the bedroom,
I can see my wife's face glowing.

The phone.

Like a horror movie.

You can see shoes in her eyeballs.

"Do you have to make
so much fucking noise, Michael?

I've bought three pairs of shoes there."

Damn!

That piss cost me 600 quid!

Plus VAT!

I'm thinking about getting a catheter
just to save money.

I've...

I've actually started...

And this is good advice for you.

I've started having a Berocca before bed,

then I get glow-in-the-dark pee
and I can see exactly the situation.

But I know where... I'm starting
to actually learn where the creaks are.

I actually... I get out of bed,
and I know where to avoid.

I'm getting quite good at it.

I think as I get older,
I'll get more and more brilliant at it.

By the time I'm 80,
I'll be like Ninja Warrior.

A sort of stealth-pissing pensioner

in the middle of the night.

Barely any piss will come out at that age.

Before realizing I've accidentally peed
in the spare room cupboard,

but this is all to come,
ladies and gentlemen!

But the good news is,

the only positive to come out

of getting up in the night to pee

is it does give me the opportunity,
while my wife is asleep,

to readjust the temperature

in the bedroom, because she likes
sleeping in Arctic conditions.

She sleeps with the window open,

and she calls it "room temperature."

I'm like, "Darling, that's not
room temperature if the window is open. 

That's garden temperature."

We might as well sleep in a tent outside.

It's freezing!

"Can we close the window,
put the heating on?"

"No, we can't have the heating on
in the bedroom.

You know we'll get sore throats."

"Well, my throat is quite sore

with the icicles forming in it!"

But I don't mind,
she can have what she likes, it's fine.

We... We live together.

If she wants it freezing,
I'll put another blanket on.

It'll be fine. My issue with it is

her relationship with temperature
makes no sense at all.

Why does she want the bedroom
so absolutely freezing,

but her bath is the hottest thing

known to man?

There's lava,
and then there's my wife's bath.

When she's in the bath,
steam fills the house.

People are driving down our road
with fog lights on going,

"What's happened in that building?"

And often she calls out from the bath,
through the steam,

"Michael, would you like this bath
after me?"

"What, to cook pasta in?

No."

Danger.

'Cause we've all done that.

We've all got into a bath

that's too hot.

And it's normally our own fault,
we don't have time to wait.

When we run the hot tap,
and we run the cold,

we don't have time to wait
for the full, proper temperature

to reveal itself.
You just have a, "Should be fine."

You go away, busy life, and you come back,

and you normally know
as soon as your foot goes in.

As soon it goes in, you normally go,
"Ooh! I've...

I've run that a bit too hot."

But often you don't realize it
until you're in already.

You get in,
and you start lowering yourself,

because it takes a while

for the information
that your feet are burning...

...to reach your brain,
where the information has to go

to tell you about it.

Because it's really quite a long way
for the information to travel.

So you start lowering yourself
and thinking,

"Something doesn't feel
altogether right here."

Then it just hits you.

You have a split-second decision,

"Do I stay, or do I go?"

And many times you just go,
"I can't! Oh, my God, I can't!"

And you end up standing naked
in your bathroom.

You look down, you've got these
sort of red skin socks of pain. "Ow!

Look what I did to myself!"

Then you have to empty the hot out
to put the cold in,

which involves sacrificing your arm

to plunge to the plug.

Plug plunging, very dangerous.

You look at your arm as if to say,
"This will hurt, I do apologize.

Brace yourself."

Sometimes you can't get a purchase.
You're like, "I could lose my arm!"

But the braver amongst us,

there's many here tonight,
and I count myself amongst you,

will hover paddle.

This is where you get into the bath,

even though it hurts,

and you hover over the surface.

You get the cold on,

and you start paddling like a maniac.

"We can change this!

It's getting better all the time now!

Be brave! Be brave!"

Then you inherently know,

"It's time to change direction now!
Come on!

It's getting better, it's getting better!
Come on!"

And then you have to test it.
How is the water going?

Is it ready to fully submerge?

And you do this with your bottom,
you select your bottom,

and the task of your bottom
is simply to dip in

to see, is it ready? How's it going?
Is-- How's it going?

This is where I forget,
unfortunately, that I have balls.

It's not so much that I forget.

It's more the angle of dangle...

...means that my balls
are now the closest thing

to the surface of the water,
not my bottom after all.

And it comes as a nasty surprise.

It's the most sensitive part
of the human body

It's the last part of the human body,
let's be honest,

that you would volunteer...

...to test

boiling water with.

No one's ever handed me a cup of tea
and said, "Michael...

This might be a little bit
on the hot side."

"Well, we shall soon find out, my friend."

"Right you are,

little bit more milk.

Just a splash.

Just tested it
with my hover-paddle hardened bollocks

there, my friend."

Thirsty work.

Thirsty work here.

This is, uh, bottled water.

They've taken the label off it
because of advertising.

Because they're worried
that people watching Netflix

might want to, uh, look like me.

Can you imagine? "What does he drink?"

It's, uh, Evian, of course. Uh...

If you were wondering.

Evian. "Live young, Evian."

Middle class people love bottled water,
don't they?

It's a colorless, odorless,
tasteless liquid

and it tastes the same
no matter what brand you get.

It's a miracle of branding and marketing
that people prefer different ones.

"Oh, I like Voss." "I like Fiji."
"I like Buxton."

"I'm a Highland Spring guy."

It's the same... same water.

And they get very offended,
you must have seen this in restaurants

when the waiter comes over,
"Can I get you a drink?"

"Uh, yes, can we just have water, please?
Still water, we're fine with still water."

Sometimes the waiter goes, "Tap?"

It's a horrible moment.

It's like he's just said, "Puddle?

I could scoop some from the pavement?
It rained earlier."

And people are so offended.

"Uh, excuse me, how dare you?

Are you trying to poison
me and my children?

Do you not have any respect?
Do you think I can't afford bottled water?

We'll have Evian, please, or something.

There's a mountain on the bottle,
we find it reassuring.

We don't want your disgusting tap water.

We don't know the condition of your taps
and your tanks and your pipes.

How revolting. Your rat-infested tanks?

Water that's been drained and flushed
for centuries?

You're trying to give that to me?
How revolting.

"Ice?"

"Yes, could you freeze the shit water
and put it into the bottled water?

Because we haven't thought this through
at all.

We'd like a slow death,

a slow release of poisoned rat water
into the purity of Evian."

So this is a culmination

of, um, a tour I've been doing
for a while,

on and off, all around the world.

It's a big world tour, a big world tour.

And I suppose it's amazingly exciting
to be home at the end of it

because I've been far flung,
far flung places.

Probably the furthest I've been
is the furthest anybody's been from here,

which is New Zealand, New Zealand.

New Zealand is, um...

Yeah, New Zealand's amazing,
I love New Zealand.

Um, but it takes 24 hours,
as you know, to get there from here

and that's a day of your life gone,
just gone, it's insane.

And the jetlag is monumental.

So I landed in Auckland, New Zealand.

I thought, I've got to get
onto the time zone as quickly as possible.

So I pulled out the bezel of my watch,

and I said to the stewardess,
"What's the time difference here?

I just want to get onto the new time zone.
What's the time difference here?"

"It's 12 hours ahead.

The time difference in New Zealand,
it's 12 hours ahead.

We're 12 hours ahead in New Zealand."

So I started to wind my watch 12 hours.

And I notice in my peripheral vision
she was looking at me like I was an idiot.

I thought, "What's her problem?
She needs to jog on."

I got to about eight hours in
and I realized,

"Oh, right, I'm going to land

in exactly the same place that I started."

So... So, rather than look a fool,
I wound it back.

"Thank you, I'll be fine from here.

Thank you for your help."

They talk like that in New Zealand.

On the front
of their mouths like this.

It's quite fast, it's quite pacey.

And basically, they change the vowels,

they have a strange relationship
with vowels.

They get to a vowel
and they just pick another

and go with that one instead.
It's a thing. 

'Cause Australia's a little bit different,
it's much slower in Australia.

They take their time.
They love the vowels.

When they see a vowel, they're just like,
"We're gonna stay

there.

I see no reason...

to rush this sentence, mate.

We're gonna stay on the vowel."

But New Zealand,
it's all about changing the vowel.

I had a bit of an incident

on account
of this vowel changing situation,

and I'm going to be honest and upfront.
It was quite rude.

Um, but it's funny.

When I was checking into the hotel
in Auckland, um,

she wanted to tell me, the receptionist,
about this new swimming pool

that they'd built on the sixth floor. Six.

The six floor. Um...

And surrounding the pool was a deck.

Uh, with an "E."

And it was known as "The Deck,"

and in the lift it went, "The Deck."

I was checking in, she said,

"While you're staying here,

are you gonna spend some time
sitting on the Deck?"

"That is an astonishing
assumption to make of me."

She said, "There's
a lovely big deck on the sixth floor."

"There's a lovely big dick
on the sex floor?

What kind of a place is this?"

She said,
"The deck is for hanging out."

"No, it isn't!"

"Careful, it can get
a bit slippery up there, it's hardwood."

"Oh, please, behave!"

And I went to Australia while I was there.
Obviously nipped over to Australia.

It's beautiful. I love Australia,
I love Australians.

Really nice people.

We've got us some Australians over here.
Welcome, I love 'em.

I love 'em. Really...

Really full on, really happy.

They love that you come over,
they're just so grateful.

"Fucking hell, you came all the way!"
Just brilliant.

And it's like a holiday destination,
it's beautiful.

The beaches are beautiful,
the landscape's magnificent.

The only problem, with all due respect,
is the, um...

the sharks have decided
that that's where they should be.

And the circle Australia,

waiting for Australians
to get into the water.

And guess what?

Australians keep getting into the water.

I was-- I went to the beach
with some Australians.

They're like, "You gonna come for a swim,
Mickey? Come and relax, cool off?

Come for a swim,
it's lovely in the water today."

"No, I don't think so.
I'll be-- I'll be fine."

"Why not?

Why not?"

"Because there are sharks in there."
"Yeah.

Not always."

"I think...

the fact that there's ever been one
is enough for me."

"Ah, come on, Mickey.
You've gotta live your life."

"Yes, until it ends.

Maybe today, with a shark attack,
you see?"

He said, "You've got more chance
of being hit by a car."

"Not when I'm fucking swimming, I don't.
I'll be staying here on the beach."

"I'll be right here.

I'll cool off another way."

So while I was in Australia,
I did see, unfortunately, a gentleman...

This isn't... This isn't funny.
But he was fine. He was fine.

He was...
There was a shark attack incident,

but he was fine.

He'd just got bitten on the arm.
It wasn't great.

Um...

I shouldn't laugh.

The point I'm trying to make

is that I passionately believe

that this shark attack
would not have happened

if he hadn't have got into the water.

He's lying in his hospital bed

being interviewed on the news.
There's a reporter on the end of his bed.

He's got his arm up in a thing,
he's got his neck in a brace.

She's like,
"So, just if you can, if it's all right,

could you just talk us through,
talk us through, sir, what...

what happened?

He's like, "Yeah, well, I was...
I was just... I-I was just...

I was just surfing in the ocean,

and then this shark literally...

came out of nowhere."

Not exactly.

The shark was in its natural habitat.

You're the one who literally
came out of nowhere

and offered yourself as a light snack.

On a plate.

Literally, on a long, thin platter.

Get out of the water.

It's not like he's being interviewed
in his hospital bed

and he's like, "I was...

I was on the fourth floor
of my Melbourne apartment...

...unloading the dishwasher.

I pulled out the top rack
to put my mug in,

and this shark
literally came out of nowhere,

attacked me on the arm."

"I was an internal flight to Adelaide.

I looked out the plane,
there's a fucking shark on the wing."

I will attempt an accent,
you've probably noticed I'll give it a go.

Um, I like accents. It doesn't matter
where you go in the world,

they've developed
their own little way of talking.

I don't know how it starts.

Nobody knows how it evolves.

Beautiful ones, you've got Italy.

It's so beautiful
in Italy. They speak so beautiful.

I don't know how it evolved,
but it is certainly the most sexy way

of communication

is to talk with an Italian accent,
it's so sexy.

Everybody love the way I talking.

Yeah? You go to France...

A little pissed off,
but still pretty cool, we talk like this.

Of all the accents in the world,

the one I think
maybe they should ch-change,

and I don't want to disrespect
anybody here who may be from there,

but for me,
it's the Northern Irish accent.

What on earth is going on there?

It's not an easy one to do.

They've decided, in Northern Ireland,

that the best... the best...
the best way to communicate

is right... right at the back
of their throat, like that.

Just making noises.
Nothing there. Absolutely nothing.

You don't know what they're saying.

"We're gonna
make noises in a Northern Irish accent,

just gonna...
What are you even doing here?"

"I don't even know
what you're doing here myself."

How does it start?
Because babies are like...

"Wah!"

"No, it's 'Aah!' All right?

If you're going to stay here,
you've got to do the 'Aah.'"

It's right in the back like that,
fucking right at the back.

The Northern Irish accent
is the only time I've ever heard

somebody sneeze,

and I could tell
where they were from…

...from the sneeze.

I was in Dubai airport and this bloke
sitting next to me just went...

"Achoo."

Oh, for goodness sake.

"Are you from, uh, Northern Ireland?"

"I am, I'm from Belfast."

"Thought as much."

It's fun though there.
It's nice, nice place.

Did some good shows in Belfast.
Really good audience, up for it.

Nice people, friendly, welcoming.

Had some time to kill while I was there,

so I went to what was, what is,

the most successful tourism destination
they've ever had

in the whole of Northern Ireland.

It's called the Titanic Quarter.

And it's all about
the building of the Titanic,

that was built in Belfast,

and it's something they're incredibly...

proud of.

It's like they don't know
what happened to the Titanic.

Where they built it.

I went round this museum,
and I said to somebody working there,

"I'm so sorry, but you do know
what happened to the Titanic?"

"It was fine when it left here."

I don't know if that's the point, mate.

So while I was there,
I had these gigs in America coming up.

Americans are, um...

They're an amazing audience,
I've got to tell you. They're amazing.

As an audience, they're so...
You can see them, just...

Ready, up for a good... yes!

Yes!

They're wild. Wild.

Because, with respect to British people,
and I want you to know, I am one,

so I'm the same as you.

When I went to America, they were...

I did the show in America, they were wild,

whooping, cheering,
laughing and everything.

I went on social media after the show.
Everything was in capitals.

"Michael McIntyre was awesome!

He blew the roof off.

He was incredible!"

I don't get that here.

I'm going to be honest with you.

The best I get from British people is,
"He didn't disappoint."

Even when we're happy...

...we have to reference

our disappointing lives.

The other one I get here is,
"Surprisingly good."

Why are you so surprised?

You booked the tickets!

British people go out
with no expectations.

"I'm not planning on much entertainment

this evening."

"Surprisingly good, wasn't it, Pam?"

So, of all the places I went
on my tour round the world,

I think my funnest one,
the most unexpectedly fun one,

for me has to be, um,
when I did these shows in Asia.

I had never gigged in Asia.

I did Hong Kong and Singapore
back to back.

And I've never even actually
been to Asia before.

And this might come as a surprise
to many of you

to find out that I'm not...

...an Asian person.

I realize...

I look Asian.

Especially when I smile,
I get more and more Asian.

Now...

I've looked into this.

My parents, not Asian.

Everybody in my ancestry,
also not from Asia.

My children in no way resemble
Asian people.

I am the sole Asian representative...

...of my house and family,

and nobody understands
why that's happened.

Even that I myself
mistook myself for an Asian gentleman

in what was a very, very
depressing moment.

I was coming off an airplane,

and you know when they leave newspapers
there for you to grab on the way off?

And I'm coming off in that funnel bit,
you know the funnel bit?

Long-haul flight, not paying attention,
and I notice, in the corner of my eye,

that I'm on the front page
of the Daily Mail.

And my heart sunk. I thought...
"What have I done?

Oh, my God, something's happened,
something must have broken

while I was in the sky.
Oh, my...

What? Oh, my... What is it? Oh, my God."

It was Kim Jong-un.

If there's a more depressing moment

in my life,

I'm yet to experience it.

The sad truth

is that I could probably
unlock Kim Jong-un's iPhone...

...with my fat Asian face.

Maybe the FBI will send me
into the Pyongyang palace

to steal government secrets
in the dead of night.

"How are you
with creeping around bedrooms

while people are trying to sleep?"

"I practice that
nightly, sir. I'm your man.

Just give me a schematic of all the creaks
on the floorboards and we'll be fine."

While I was in, uh, Asia, in Hong Kong,

a very, very exciting development
occurred.

Um...

This was very unexpected.

Now, I should tell you that I'm married
to a beautiful woman.

She's out of my league.

Um...

She's like properly... She's hot.

And I know that she's out of my league
because everybody who meets us,

and meets her,

tells us immediately.

They can't help it.

They just look at us and go...

"Why?"

They don't understand.

She is a ten. She's a ten.

No doubt about it, she's a ten.

I am like, well...

maybe with a diet and a...
and a tan, and a...

and a great... a great distance

and a short-sighted affliction...

and a low lighting, maybe a six.

Or a five.

I'm feeling it's a four
from this reaction.

I'm fine, I'm fine with it, I don't care.

Because in Hong Kong,

I'm a fucking nine.

I'm a nine.

This is the look

they go for.

'Cause I've got this sort of,
"Is he Asian, is he not Asian?"

Cool, British,
James Bond-y thing going on.

Soon as I got off the plane,
girls were giggling.

"Oh, my God!"

I was like, "What?"
I didn't know what had happened.

No one had ever reacted to me like that.

Girls were coming up to me,

"Excuse me, oh, my God, where you from?

You have such an interesting face.

Oh, hello."

I knew they fancied me

because they were
lowering their face masks to flirt.

"Hello, stranger.

How you doin'?"

This girl came over to me,
"Excuse me...

are you a model?"

Am I a model?

No, what are you talking about?"

She said, "You look exactly like
the man from the Paco Rabanne adverts."

There's an advertising campaign
in Hong Kong for Paco Rabanne.

I look exactly like the guy in it.
If anything, I'm better looking.

In Hong Kong, I'm a Paco Rabanne model.

In this country, I've been offered
zero advertising work whatsoever.

Unless Jacamo come out
with a new jacket boob range,

I don't think that's gonna be changing...

...in the near future.

"Shop at Jacamo,
with their new jacket boob range.

Comes in all sizes of boobs."

Not gonna happen.

Doesn't matter. Hong Kong, gorgeous.

Unfortunately, this did lead
to a quite embarrassing, uh,

situation.

My wife's always trying to look after me.
She wasn't with me.

Um, I was touring alone,
but I couldn't sleep,

I kept whining about it, "I'm jetlagged,"

so she booked me in for a massage
in the hotel spa.

She said, "It's world-renowned.

Have a massage, it'll help you sleep."

So I go downstairs to the spa,
you know, lift doors open,

there's candles and low music.

There's a few girls on reception,
they're giggling as I walk over

because I'm gorgeous,
but I'm used to it now.

It's almost annoying.
"He's coming over! Oh, my God!

He's the guy from Paco Rabanne!
Oh, my God!"

This one girl lowered
her face mask and put red lipstick on.

"I can't believe it's him!"

Then she put the face mask
over her lips.

It was seeping through the mask
by the time I got there.

She looked like the Joker in Batman.
Not a good look!

I said, "I'm here for my massage."

She said, "Okay, what you want to do is
you want to go to the men's locker room,

just down there on the right,

and in there you'll find a locker, um...

There's a robe in there,
and some slippers.

Pop those on, and then go straight on
and your therapist will meet you. Enjoy."

So I went through,
and sure enough I found a locker.

There was a robe in there, some slippers,
just what I was expecting.

But there was something
I wasn't expecting at all.

A tiny packet of disposable...

massage underwear.

No man should be wearing these,

let me tell you.

There was a string
that went round one hip,

a string that went round the other,

and then barely any fabric at all
in the middle here.

But, as I say, I'd never seen
these disposable massage pants before.

I assumed it was a face mask for my face.

So the side stringy bits
I hooked onto my ears, like this.

And I put my face where my balls
were supposed to be housed.

Put the robe on, and the slippers,

and I start coming down the corridor
with these pants on my face.

I got into the massage room,
the girl was like...

The pants are on your face!"

I took it off, she's like,

"It's the man from Paco Rabanne!"

Isn't it lovely,
ladies and gentlemen, isn't it nice,

just... just for this... just for this...

while we're doing this show,
to not be on our phones?

But it's nice, isn't it?

Look at all of us. It's such a rarity.

Look at us all. No one...

No one's on their phone.

You probably used your phones
to book your tickets for tonight.

It's very easy.
You go online, you go to the theater.

You can pick your seats.

It's all very easy to do
when you're booking things online.

But there's a weird thing that's going on
when you're booking tickets.

It doesn't always happen, and nobody knows

what the hell it's all about.

You're booking your tickets online,
and it suddenly just goes,

"Are you a robot?"

Extraordinary question.

No one's ever suspected
I'm anything other human.

And you tick the box and you go,
"No, I'm not a robot.

This is really weird, can we carry on?"

And they go, "No." The computer goes,
"No, we can't carry on.

We're going to have to run some tests

to confirm that you are human

and not a robot."

And you think, "Well, this should be
the easiest test I've ever taken.

I'm gonna ace this test.

All I have to do is prove my humanity!

I've br-- I've--
I've fathered other humans.

I'm definitely not a robot.
Come on, anything you've got.

This is such a waste of time.

What are the questions?"

"Okay, so, here are some boxes.

Which one is a shopfront?"

"Oh.

Why is this so difficult?

Where are these creepy
middle-American shops, anyway?"

Sometimes the shop is bleeding
into more than one box.

What are we supposed to do?
Do we just tick the main box

or all the boxes around it?
What are the rules of this robot quiz? 

So you go, "That one, that one,

and I'm just guessing that one."

And you press send. It goes, "No.

You got that wrong.

We still suspect you might be a robot.

How are you with bridges?"

"I don't know.
I thought I was good at shops!"

Sometimes I get so many wrong in a row,
I'm like,

"Darling, am I a robot?
You would tell me?"

My kids, I realized the other day,

they don't even know of a time
when there was no internet.

Their whole life, they've had internet.

They can't fathom how--

They ask the question,
"How did you survive?"

And I have no answer.

"I don't really remember.

I don't really remember."

But we can think back now
to the dawn of the internet.

Remember those first few years,

when we always said "www."
Before every website?

What a waste of time that was.

Why did it take us three years

to realize
all the websites start with www?

Some of them must be so painful.

The World Wrestling Federation.

Every day having to say that shit.

The World Wildlife Fund.

"Of course, don't forget to donate,

We must have wasted a fortnight
of our lives just going, "wwwwww..."

And think back, think back now,

now that the internet is so much
a part of our lives,

think back...

think back to our first password,

because our minds, our brains

are so filled with passwords.

It's such a struggle for us
to remember all the passwords.

We go to businesses online

and you go, "I can't remember.

I can't remember my password."

And you put it in.
Sometimes they lock you out,

and they go, "No, you've got one more try
to remember your own password,

you fucking idiot."

"Oh, God!"

Or you click "I forgot it,"

and they ask you questions
about your life,

and you don't even remember the answers.

They're about your own life!

"What is your favorite pet?"
"Oh, no, I can't believe I chose one."

The dog walks in,
"If it isn't me, I'm leaving.

I'm literally walking out the door."

"Www."

Oh, the passwords.

And at the beginning,
we all had one password.

It was our... It was our first password.

We can nostalgically remember.

And we used it for everything,
every time we joined another business.

"Can I have your password?"
"Yes, you can, that is my special word."

And then...

companies started getting quite rude.

You would put your password in,
and it would go, "Weak."

"Who are you to judge my special word?"

They're like, "Sorry, but the internet
has become very popular,

we need to strengthen your password."

And businesses would insist,

"We must have from you a capital letter.

I'm sorry, we will not be
accepting passwords anymore

unless it contains
at least one capital letter.

And we all momentarily
considered our options

before deciding to capitalize
the first letter of our password.

And for a period of time, that was fine.

But the internet became even more popular,

and then businesses started saying,
"I'm afraid you cannot join

unless you have
at least one capital letter

and at least one number."

Again, less than half
a microsecond's consideration

before we collectively decided,

"You shall be getting the number one...

...and that will be at the end
of my now capitalized password."

And, for a period of time,
this was acceptable,

until a whole new unexpected

and exciting dawn emerged.

A world of special characters.

We didn't even know what they were!

And businesses would say,
"We need a capital letter,

we need a number, but we will also
require a special character.

And we clicked on the button,
"Please, can I have some examples

of these special characters
which you now insist upon?"

And we perused them. "There they are.

I had no idea these characters
were so special."

Until all of our eyes

stopped upon...

the exclamation mark.

"You're coming with me."

Which we then put at the end
of our now capitalized password,

just after the one.

And it's at this moment

that everybody at the London Palladium
is thinking,

"I should probably change my password.
I'm probably gonna do that tomorrow.

Do that now.

Need to think of another special word.

Better get that changed."

But this is it,
this is what's happening, of course,

in the 20, in the 20s, 2020s,
in the 2020s.

Technology will only improve.
It's supposed to make our lives easier.

Sometimes, in my opinion,
a little bit too easy.

I just got a new car.

Everything is automated.
I don't do a thing for myself in this car.

It gets dark, the headlights come on

on their own.

It starts raining, the windscreen wipers
come on on their own.

But it means that you're physically
doing less in the car,

and, let's be honest, it all adds up.

It all adds up if you get lazy
and everything's done for you.

Like, there are young people here
who use the expression,

"Can you roll the window up?

Can you roll the window down?
Mum, roll the window up.

Roll the window down."

But their whole lives, they've been
pushing button like this. Pushing button.

They know nothing...

of the decades that we spent
physically doing this shit.

Not easy.

Often it would get stuck.
It was quite...

Good for your bicep.

Don't need to go to the gym,
just roll the window down.

Sometimes when the window was
all the way down, it would start raining.

It would be amazing, a super-fast wind-up.

The passenger one,
leaning over and doing that.

You could try them both at the same time
if you were feeling confident.

Don't go to the gym.

To move the seat in my new car,
it's all done by buttons.

There's a button next to the seat,
you move it to go forward.

You move it to go back. Errr.

The back rest. Err, err, err-err.

All pushing buttons.

That's all you're doing with your fingers.

Back in the day, of course,
there'd be a lever

between your legs.

You'd lift it up and it would shoot you...

...along rails
into the backseat of the car.

"Hello! I'm in the back now!"

You could see the rails in front of you
like a mini roller coaster in reverse.

Then you'd have to shag your way...

...to your favored driving position.

Very good for your core.

Often you would over-shag.

You would over-shag
all the way, whoa, to the steering wheel,

then have to back-shag...

...with sensitivity.

Gentlemen of the '70s
were much better lovers.

They're always shagging up and down
in the Cortina for practice,

just to find
their favored driving position.

So I had a bit of a weird moment
in the car the other day with, um...

with my wife.

Now, look...

My relationship...

and I don't know
if I speak for all men here,

I feel like it's a never-ending quest

with my wife to find out
what I'm supposed to be doing.

I never quite know exactly
what I'm supposed to be doing.

So we're driving in the car,
and she's in the passenger seat.

Very odd, this was.

I go past a parking space,

I realize I've gone past it,
and I go, "Oh, I need to reverse."

So I do a classic move,
we've all seen this,

I put my arm around her,
sort of, you know, lean up like that.

You know, just sort of...

You know. And then reverse, quite fast.

And then wind it into a space, nice.

Felt pretty good, decent maneuver.

Didn't think much of it,
didn't make a thing.

My wife looks at me and she goes, "Ooh.

"I find that really sexy."

I had no idea what she was talking about.

I'm looking outside the car,
"What? What happened? Did something--

What are you talking about?"

She said, "I've always found that
really sexy, when men do that."

"What men? What men are you talking about?

Who are these sexy men?
What are you talking about?"

She said,
"Just when you reverse like that,

I've always found that really sexy
and you don't normally do that."

"Do what? What are you...
What are you talking about?"

"Just when you put your arm around me
and then reverse really fast.

Ooh, I've always found that really sexy."

I'm sorry,
but I've been focusing mainly...

in the bedroom

for the last 20 years of our relationship

to arouse you.

It would have taken me a billion years

before I attempted maneuvers in the car...

...as part of foreplay.

"What's the plan for date night?

Shall we just drive around in reverse
and you tell me when you're up for it?"

I'm happy to do that now,
seeing as we're here.

She said, "Michael,
I can't help what I find sexy."

I said, "Well, is there anything else
really weird

that you find sexy
that I should know about?"

She said, "Let me have a think."
I said, "Please do."

She said, "Oh, there is one thing
that men do."

"Sorry, who are the men
which you speak of?"

"It's just that you don't do it, Michael."
"Do what?"

She said, "You know when men
take their sweater off,

take their jumper off,
and just reach behind their back,

and then...

just take it off in one go." She said,

"Oh. Ohh."

She starts moaning.

"Ohh.

I find that really sexy."

"I'm sorry, what are you talking about?"

"They just reach behind their back,
and then

just take their jumper off."

"You don't find my way sexy?

When I get the sleeves and I...

...slowly and expertly work my way up...

And then you have to pull it off."

She said, "As a matter of fact,
I do not...

find that sexy."

So I thought, "Fine,
I'm gonna put this to the test."

Banked it, yeah?

Few weeks later, date night.

Went out, good night,
few drinks, nice meal.

Came home, kids are asleep,
happened to be in a sweater.

Thought, "I'm gonna bloody go for it."

I didn't realize it would be difficult.

I didn't realize
I had to practice this move.

Nor did I realize
it was one of the tighter necklines

in my wardrobe.

So I just reached behind my back
and I just went for it, I pulled

as hard as I could,

and my head got stuck in the ring.

It was like I was being born very slowly.

A definite forceps delivery.

Also, and I was w--
I was upset about this,

my shirt came up with the jumper,

so my tummy was just wobbling around
in the open.

And this was after dinner.

"Don't fill up on bread, Michael."
"But it's hot, it's warm."

"Are you gonna finish those potatoes?
They're so yummy, shame to go to waste."

"Shall we share a dessert?"
"Fuck that, I'll have my own."

"Petit fours? Don't mind if I do!"

And I was pulling it so hard

to keep it sexy.

It took a while,
and I finally popped out the top.

She wasn't there, she'd fucked off.

"Babe?

I did the sexy jumper thing.

You missed it!

I thought we could
drive around in reverse for a bit

and then maybe go to bed?"

So here,

ladies and gentlemen...

...is a bit of an overshare.

Hashtag...

"Too much information."

I said to her after all this stuff,
I said, "Babe... Babe... Babe...

I'm tired of this trial and error
approach.

Why don't-- We should just communicate.

Why don't you just tell me,
after all these...

Let's just talk about it, just tell me,

what really turns you on.

She went, "What, really?"

I was like, "Ooh."

"Whatever that is, I wanna know!"

"What really turns you on?"

She went, "For real?" "Yes."

"You really wanna know?" "Yes.

"Seriously?" "Yes, just tell me."

"For real?" "Yes." She went...

"Black men."

"How exactly am I supposed to work that
into our anniversary, darling?"

Despite this, things are going well.

Um...

Still together.
Kids are growing up.

Um...

Ozzy, my youngest, he's, uh...
he's still a kid, really.

I mean, my...
Lucas is 14 now, Ozzy's like 11.

So he's still a little boy.

And he's...
he's a very bright, amazing boy.

He needs to get off,
he needs to get of the Xbox.

He has to get off the Xbox.

Completely bloody addicted
to playing his bloody Xbox.

And I come in there all the time,
"Come on, off.

I said five minutes, it's been 45 minutes.

You were lucky
to get away with that. Off."

He's like, "I'm coming in a minute, Dad.
I'll be there in a..." Sorry.

That's not his voice,
I don't know who that was!

He is far more middle class than that,
let me tell you!

"I'll be there momentarily, Papa.

Just give me a few more minutes
and I'll... I'll be wrapping up shortly.

Post-haste."

I don't know who that first kid was!

"'Ello, mate, I'm your son.
Does that come as a surprise?"

"I've been meaning to ask you, Dad,

how come I'm from the East End...

...and you're Chinese?

I can't get my head around this.

What kind of a family am I living in?

What kind of a family?

And I've just seen Mom
reversing down the road

with a black geezer. What's happening?

I saw a sweater flung out the window.
She looked happy.

Happier than in a while, I gotta tell.
Big grin on her face."

Don't know who that is, sorry.

So he's always, "I'll get off
in a minute." Always "in a minute."

I don't think he knows what "in a minute"
means. It's one word, "inaminute".

"You'll come off now, all right?
Dinner's on the table."

"I'm coming, I can't...
In a minute, it's a really important game.

He plays this shooting game,
this Fortnite rubbish.

"It's a really important game, all right?"

"Pause it, then."
"I can't pause it, Dad. It won't pause.

You can't pause it. I can't..."

"You can pause it!

I'm putting my foot down!
You need to pause it."

"I can't pause it.
I'd-- I'd have to kill myself."

"Darling, it's not that serious."

"No, I mean on the game.

I'd have to kill myself on the game."

"Then kill yourself, I don't care!"

This is what happens now every night
in my house. I call up the stairs, "Ozzy!

Kill yourself, it's dinner!

Get your friend to shoot you!
It's Bolognese, getting cold."

Truth is, he doesn't respect me.

I have no control over him whatsoever.
He runs rings around me.

He only listens to his mother.
He laughs in my face.

Every time I raise my voice...
The other day I was like, "Come on,

it's bedtime now.
Have you brushed your teeth?"

He was like, "Dad, Dad,
there's no need to shout.

I'm standing right here. I can hear you.

Calm down."

He said to me, "Are you tired
or something? Are you tired?"

"I suppose a little bit,
I am a little bit tired."

The other day he said to me,

"Is your blood sugar level low?

Do you need a snack?"

"Yeah, I suppose.
I mean, I am a bit hungry."

He sent me to my room to lie down.

The big news in our house is, uh...

Well, we've got... we've got a dog.

We've never had a dog before.

There's dog fans!

Got a little fluffy...

Got a little fluffy dog.

Little fluffy, lovely little fluffy dog.

Mr. McFluffintyre.

He's a very nice...

fluffy,

fluffy dog. He's very loving.

You know why he's loving?
Because that's his nature.

Different breeds of dogs
have different natures. I went to--

It was like buying a car.
I went on this website, www. Something...

Uh...

It tells you about the different breeds,
all the characteristics,

and how much you need to walk them,
and how much exercise they need,

how much you feed them,
whether they molt and all this stuff.

And there was a category for love,
how loving are they?

How much do they love people?

And it was all rated out of five stars,

and I was only considering dogs
that got five stars for love.

Why would you bring an animal
into your home

if it doesn't love you the fullest?

And five-star love dogs,
there's, you know, golden retrievers,

Labradors, and my dog,
the little fluffy Norfolk terrier.

He's a five-star love dog.

And you can see it in his eyes
when he looks at me, it's unbelievable.

He's like, "I love you so much."

I'm gonna give him a Norfolk accent.

He's a Norfolk terrier.

I don't know how he speaks,

but I assume if he did, he would.

"I love you so much.
Thank you so much for being my master.

Thank you so much
for letting me live in your house.

I love what you've done with the place,
it's magnificent. Absolutely beautiful.

You could be an interior designer
if you put your mind to it.

I think you could do anything
if you put your mind to it.

When I look at you, I feel the same way
as an Asian woman does

when she looks at you.

I'm absolutely obsessed with you.
I think you're amazing.

I love the way, when you reach up high,
your jacket squeezes up like boobs.

I love it when I hear you getting up
in the night and I listen for you peeing.

'He's up again!' What a character!

I love it when you come out the bath
and you've got two red feet,

one red arm and a couple of red balls.

I just love it.

I miss you when you're away.

I get worried about you getting bitten
by sharks in Australia.

I worry about you slipping
on that big dick on the sex floor.

I know you're not a robot.

You're one of the most genuine people
I've ever known in my entire life.

I love you. I'm obsessed.
You know when you go out the house?

I... I know it's irrational,
but I worry that you might be dead.

I get it in my head that he's only
gone and died, my master,

the true love of my life's
gone and died on me.

And then when you come home,

I'm the happiest dog
in the whole wide world

'cause I'm a five-star love dog!"

That's my dog.

Five stars.

Very loving.

I went on the website to see dogs
that don't get five stars for love.

One star,

the chihuahua.

Those little Mexican dogs
with the googly eyes,

they don't like people.

'Cause you run
into different breeds of dogs,

because you take the dog,
dog owners know this,

you take them to the park
and they want to sniff around and stuff,

they want to meet other dogs.

And they see them.
It's amazing when they spot each other.

And basically, what they want to do,

well, what my dog wants to do,

is have a little, very brief encounter
with the other dog

which involves smelling each other's balls
and then carrying on.

It's very odd. He goes up to a dog,

"Excuse me, mate,
is it all right if I smell your balls?"

Then the other dog goes, "Yeah, whatever,"
and then they...

And then he's, "Have a go on mine."

And then they go, "Thanks for that,"
and then they just carry on.

And they spot each other from miles away.

And the other dog looks at him.

And then, sometimes, dogs are mean.

They don't want to smell,
'cause he's a little puppy.

Some German shepherd
will be coming along like this,

"I'm the German shepherd.
I'm the German shepherd."

My dog goes, "Is it alright
if I have a quick sniff on the balls?"

"Absolutely not, you silly little puppy.

Look at the size of you.

You couldn't even get up
to my magnificent balls if you tried!

You think I'm going to stoop
to your mini balls?

Disgusting! Stay away from my balls!"

Get a French poodle come along.

"I'm the French poodle."

My dog comes. "Excuse me,
I was wondering if I could get a...

I just got quite badly treated
by a German shepherd.

I was wondering if I could get
a quick sniff on your balls?"

"Before Brexit, it would
have been fine, but I'm not happy.

I don't think you made the right decision,
no. You have not made the right decision.

You know?

Maybe before, but now I don't like it.

The way you vote
is very rude to the French people.

You're not part of this anymore, you know?

You want free movement of people?

Well, you don't get free movement
of your nose to my balls, not anymore.

Get away from the balls."

Afghan hound coming over.

"Please, don't touch my...
In normal circumstances I would,

but things very difficult in my country.

I have to go home.

Very many unrest in my region.
I must go watch CNN.

Please, balls are not available
right now."

Once in a while
you get lovely dogs,

like a little Scottish terrier
comes along.

"Ooh, hello!
Ah, fucking feast on those, pal!

Get your face right in!

Go on, I'm in no rush whatsoever!

I'll have a go on yours in a minute.
Just enjoy!

Get right the fuck in there, pal!"

But chihuahuas?

Oh, every time...
Every time you see a chihuahua,

the owner's like, "Whoa, whoa, whoa!
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa! Careful!

He's a bit nippy."

And you can see it in his eyes.
I'd be like,

"Of course-- of course he's a bit nippy,

he's a one-star love dog.

Do your research."

See him going,
"I'm a one-star love dog,

I don't know why she bought me.
I don't like her.

I don't like other people.

Why she not do her research
on the internet?

When she tries to come close to me,
I try to bite her,

'cause I don't like her face,

I don't like her children, her husband.

You know when she goes out of the house,

I hope she's dead.

I do, I pray for her death.

And get me out of your handbag,
you fucking witch!"

One star.

Ladies and gentlemen,
thank you so much for coming out

and sharing this super fun night with me!

Thank you very much! Goodnight! Bravo!

Yay! Nice people!

Thank you!

Thank you at the top!

Thank you, lovely people!

Thank you! Thank you all!
Goodnight! Bravo!

Woo-hoo!