All language subtitles for Celeste.Barber.Fine.thanks.2023.720p.WEBRip.400MB.x264-GalaxyRG

All right, Sydney Opera House!

Please welcome to the stage,
Celeste Barber!

♪ So when you're ready to go
Just take it out to the floor ♪

♪ If you got moves, let 'em show ♪

♪ 'Cause you know we 'bout to throw down
In this place, light it up ♪

♪ Sit back and we'll... ♪

Hi! Fuck yeah!

Yes!

♪ So if you're ready to go
Just take it out to the floor... ♪

Oh yeah!

Hiya, Sydney! What's up?

Oh, this is awesome!

Hey, you guys,
welcome to my Netflix special.

Ah, this is wicked.

I'm so excited to be here. It's so...

My husband and I
have been together for 19 years, right,

and the success of our relationship

is 100% based on distance.

And being away from each other.

We are so good at missing each other,

so good at it.

But then lockdown happened...

...and he was everywhere.

All the fucking time.

If his face wasn't here,

his dick was here.

Oh, you...

It's too much.

Everything was blown out of proportion,
you know?

Everything was magnified.

Well, not his dick. That's to scale.

But 19 years,
that's a long time, if you ask me.

We've been through a lot together.

I've been the stepmother to his daughter
since I was 21.

We've got a really, really strong bond,

but I've gotta tell you,
lockdown, it nearly broke us.

How the fuck
did people fall pregnant during that time?

"This is our Covid baby."

"We couldn't keep
our hands off each other."

How?

We couldn't get far enough away
from each other the entire time.

Sometimes, we would
just spend the whole day

sitting on opposite ends of the couch
in complete silence,

and every now and then,
just flip the bird at each other.

"There you are, mate.
You can have that today."

"And take a couple for tomorrow as well."

Twenty minutes from divorce
the entire time, we were.

The actress Jamie Lee Curtis,
she's been married for 27 years, right?

Twenty-seven years!

And she was asked
a few years ago in an interview,

"What is the secret to a long marriage?"

And she said,

"Don't leave."

That's what she said.
She went, "You just don't leave."

"Yeah, you just have to stay on the bus,

and the bus keeps on going."

"The scenery outside may change,

but you just have to stay on the bus."

Aw.

Yeah, don't really think many of us
are saying that after lockdown, are we?

No. I would've jackknifed that bus
into a tree,

set fire to the fucker,
and run a mile if I could've.

It wasn't all bad, I have to say.

I did learn a few things about my husband
during that time.

I learned that every time
he has a drink of water,

he wants a high five.

Every time.

"It's 10:00 a.m.,

and I've just finished
my second liter of water."

"Well done, darling."

"The medal ceremony will be at 6:00.
Good on you."

I learned that every time we have a fight,
he cleans the house.

Huh.

Oh yeah. You better believe I picked
some unnecessary fights with that man.

I also realized
how often he wants to have sex with me.

But more importantly...

...how often I say no.

And I didn't realize.
I didn't realize at all.

He'll try all different ways as well.

He'll try to be spontaneous.

"Hey, babe, look.
The boys are on their iPads."

"Do you want
a little bit of afternoon delight?"

And I'm like,

"No, thank you."

Or he'll try to be romantic.

"I just ran us a little bubble bath.
Come on. Let's have a bath together."

I'm like, "I'm clean, mate. Get away."

He gave up after a while.

Sometimes, he'd jump out
in front of me completely naked.

"What are you up to?"

Aw.

"Nothing with you."

Even me lying there sound asleep
didn't stop him.

I would be snoring, and he'd just go,

"Hey."

"You want a little..."

I'm like, "No, stop it. Get off!"

"Can't I just lie here
and finish myself off, then?"

"Uh, yeah, but make sure you clean it up."

He goes, "Pardon?"

"I'll pick a fight with you later.
Don't worry about it."

I will say, though,

after 19 years together,

he said the most romantic thing
he has ever said to me during that time.

I'll never forget it.

He came up to me one day,
and he looked into my eyes, and he said,

"Hey, babe."

"Let's go to bed and look at our phones
until they run out of charge."

I fucked him all night.

So being home with my kids full-time,

it made me realize
how quickly they are growing up

and how much I am not coping with it.

I'm not coping with it at all.

I want...
I want them to be babies forever.

I will scream at my children
when they outgrow their clothes,

and I refuse to buy them new ones.

"You made that choice to grow up.
Sucked in. That's on you."

My 11-year-old's clothes are so tight,

he's at school in a tank top
like a fucking Britney fan.

"Get in there, babe. She's free.
Represent. Off you go. Get in."

My boys are eight and eleven.

I still sanitize their dummies
just in case.

Sometimes, I push them over
and hope they'll cry

and only wanna hug me.

I wasn't able to breastfeed
either of my boys when they were babies,

and now I'm like,
"You guys wanna try? We should try."

"Let's try."

I'm not okay.

So I'm trying to grab
as many moments with them as I can.

So when I'm at home, I've started
this little nightly routine with the boys,

A little turndown service, if you will.

My boys, they share a room.

They always fucking will.

And they've got two single beds,

and I like to go in there
and get it set up for them.

So I'll turn down the lights,
put some stars on the ceiling,

and, you know, maybe some lavender smells
or something really lovely.

And then the boys come in,
and they hop into bed,

and we like to sing
a little song together.

Um, we love the classics. Our favorite is...

♪ Twinkle, twinkle, little star ♪

♪ How I wonder what you are... ♪

I always think about, like, what memories
my boys are gonna have when they're older

and about what memories
they're gonna have of me as well,

and I really, really hope
this is one of them

'cause I think
it's just such a special time for them.

So I started adding wine
to this little nightly routine.

What? Well, it can't be
all about the children!

And, look, let's face it.
It was during lockdown,

so I was fuck-eyed drunk midweek
most of the time.

And after a couple of bottles of wine
by about, oh, 5:00 p.m.,

I realized I was moving a little bit away
from singing "Twinkle, Twinkle"

and moving a little bit more toward
performing Kasey Chambers circa 2002.

♪ Am I not pretty enough? ♪

♪ Is my heart too broken? ♪

And you just know that that shit cranks up
as the weekend rolls around.

You know, by Saturday,
we've opened up a bottle of tequila.

The baggies have come out.

And I realize, well, they're growing up,

everything's fucked,

and we're all gonna die anyway, so...

♪ Absolutely everybody
Everybody, everybody ♪

♪ Absolutely everybody
In the whole wide world ♪

Yeah, by Sunday, my kids are traumatized.

Yeah.

Yeah, Sunday's fun.

I just walk around the house,
like, "Come on, boys."

"It's time for our nightly routine,"

and I realize they've been in bed
since 2:00 p.m.,

pretending to be asleep, like...

"Ooh, fuck."

Kids are so smart these days. Holy shit!

They are so smart now.

Like, I knew nothing
when I was growing up.

Nothing at all.

And that is
how me and my parents liked it.

You know, if my parents said
we were going somewhere,

you just got in the car.

Right?

Yeah, you just got in the car.

You didn't ask where you were going.

Fucking idiot.

You just got in the car.

Or if you did ask,

because you were forced to
by your stupid sister,

it was always met with clenched teeth
and a glare from my dad, going...

..."Get in the car."

"Oh shit. Sorry."

My parents would just blatantly lie to us.

They were like, "Come on, girls.
We're gonna go to Disneyland!"

And you'd find yourself lying there,

getting your first pap smear.
Like, "What the...?"

"I didn't think
Splash Mountain was like this."

Can't do that these days.

Oh, no way.

Woke little fucks.

They'd have a restraining order out on you
if you did that.

I need to give my children

a full-blown itinerary
of what we are doing every single day,

and I need to check in with them
every ten minutes

to make sure they are emotionally vibing
with the day's schedule.

It's too much.

It's just... It's exhausting.

But I'm trying to keep up.
I'm really trying to keep up.

See, my boys were playing together,

and my eight-year-old
called my eleven-year-old a pussy.

And I went, "Excuse me, no."

"Please do not say that to him.
That is derogatory to women."

And he came marching back in to me,

and he went, "Why? I didn't say it to you,

and he's not a woman."

Fuck.

Ah, fuck.

That's so smart.

I love watching my boys play.

It reminds me
of when I used to play with my big sister.

Olivia is about four years older than me.

And I was absolutely obsessed with her
when we were growing up,

and we were completely different as well.

She was all like Pearl Jam and angst.

And I was all like
Spice Girls and Ritalin sandwiches.

But I was obsessed with her,

and it didn't matter
what she did to me either.

She once used my head as a step

to get into the pool.

Just quickly,

we had steps to get into the pool,
they were fine to use.

But she wanted to use my head.

So I was in the pool.

She stood on my head,
and as she dived off,

she flicked my head,
and I went on the side of the pool.

Blood went fucking everywhere.

And I remember
as I was coming up from my bloodbath,

she was just screaming at me,

going, "Don't tell Mum!"

And I was like,

"I won't."

"I won't. Please, please,
just keep playing with me, please."

She also told me

that we had an older brother named Michael

and that he had died from face rabies.

Yeah.

Yeah. The worst type of rabies.

She made me promise
I wouldn't say anything to Mum and Dad

'cause it was still really hard for them.

She told me

that Mum and Dad had buried him
under the garage to keep him close.

She then took me down to said garage

so we could "remember him" together.

And as I was frantically looking around
for the shrine to Michael,

she pushed me in there,
turned the light off,

closed the door, and locked it.

I didn't care.
So long as she wanted to hang out with me,

I was more than happy to be
haunted by my fake dead brother's ghost.

The only people cooler than my big sister
when I was growing up were her friends.

Oh shit!

When her friends used to come around
to our house,

I would turn it on.

Honestly, they would get the best of me.

You fuckers have to pay for it.
They got it for free.

Yeah. I loved it.

It was like the Super Bowl for me.
I got so excited.

I remember my mum would be like,
"Olivia? Jane's here,"

and I'm like, "Oh, we're fucking on."

"Fucking of course Jane's here."

"Fucking Jane."

"Yeah, fucking Jane."

"Jane's here!" I was so excited.

I'd just walk up to my parents like,
"Look alive, you two."

"Don't you fuck this up for me."

"Jane!"

"Jane!" I was on.

The second Jane walked into my house,

I'd never been cooler.
Coolest person ever.

Just walked up to her
and I was like, "Hey."

"Jane, is it? Whatever, yeah."

"Yeah. Saw you at school today.
Didn't care."

I just spoke directly to Jane!

And then I'd hide
in really random parts of the house,

just in case I was needed for anything.

"Hide and seek? No, okay."

Or maybe Jane needed a snack.

And then I'd just appear from nowhere,

like a real estate agent
at my own open home.

All the useless information in the world.

"Jane, how you going? Nice to see you."

"You after a snack, are you?
I can help you with that."

"Just come through the open-plan kitchen.
I'll take you to the pantry."

"You'll notice here at the pantry

that when you open the door,
the light goes on."

"Not many people know that."

"So please help yourself to a snack,
and if you want, a little bit later,

I'll show you how to use the steps
to get into the pool."

Yeah, I've never been great socially.

No. And it's only getting worse

because now people
actually wanna hang out with me.

And I don't want to.

And I'm... I don't wanna do it.

'Cause I don't know how to do it.
I find it hard.

I find small talk really, really hard.

Like, I'm great for five minutes.

I could walk into any party,

make some inappropriate yet hilarious
observations of everyone,

and then I'll compliment the host

on her really amazing, expensive decor.

And then I'm out.

I have got nothing else to offer.

And I start to panic,

and I'll start to make fun
of some kid's underbite.

I'm like, "Fucking..."

It's not... And my husband can see
that I'm panicking as well,

and he just swoops in.

He fucking swoops in
and gets me out of there like a hero.

I tell you what, my husband,
he is so good in social situations,

which really fucks me off.

'Cause I just don't think
someone who looks that good

should also be good at life.
Know what I mean?

Like, pick a lane. Come on.

But he is. He's so good socially.

It's like he becomes a conversationalist.

Which is interesting
because in our marriage, he's nonverbal,

yet with complete strangers,
he's Chatty fucking Cathy.

Do you know
his favorite place in the world?

Front seat of an Uber.

That's not what we call it.

He bloody loves the front seat of an Uber,
and he'll fight me for it as well.

He's like, "Move, bitch.
I've got fat to chew."

And he jumps up front and off he goes,

all Chatty McGee
and emotionally available all of a sudden.

And then if there's just
a bit of a natural lull in conversation,

he's got this repertoire of bullfuckery
that he just whips out,

ready to go.

He's always got something to say
about the weather.

He's got some very vague statistics
on horticulture.

I'm just usually in the back...

...Googling myself.

Also, "What is horticulture?"

And he's up front getting all political,
having the time of his life.

So I've been watching him
'cause I wanna learn.

I wanna get better at it.

So we're at a family function,
and I watched him.

He just walked up
to a group of people he didn't know.

Like that too. No one was like,
"Get over there, you fucker!"

He just did it on his own,
walked up to a group of people.

And he started talking.

And they started talking back.

And then everyone was just chatting,
and no one was sweating.

And all the women became really interested
in horticulture all of a sudden.

And it looked quite enjoyable,
so I thought, "I can do that."

"Oh, I can do that. That seems easy."

So I saw a group of people.
I walked up to them, all confident.

And I went, "Hello."

"Well, you all seem like cunts.
Who wants a photo?"

Did anyone else think
that an international pandemic

would be a good time
to come off antidepressants?

No?

Just me?

Ah, let's get into it, then!

So, coming off antidepressants

is a bag of flaccid dicks.

The worst.

And the antidepressants I was on,

they take about six weeks to come out
of your system if you do it properly.

Look, you can do it cold turkey...

...if you have a fucking death wish.

But it is advised
that you do it slowly, yeah,

and just let them wean out of your system
over about six weeks or so.

So I've wanted to come off antidepressants
for ages

because I'm fixed. Yeah.

Yeah, it's not how it works, but anyway...

But every time
I talked to all of my doctors about it,

they were all like...

What am I, fucking Joe Rogan?
"All of my fucking doctors."

Whenever I spoke to
my two doctors about it,

they were like, well, it's not actually
a really good time for me

'cause I was traveling so much,
and work was just so up and down,

and they were like, "You just don't have
any consistency in your life whatsoever."

"Thank you so much."

"Thank you so much."

So when lockdown happened,
they thought, well,

now might be a good idea
because I was just in one place.

I was like, "Yeah,
that's a really great idea, you guys."

"That might be
some of your best work, yeah."

"Yeah, let's trap her in a tiny apartment
when nothing in the world is certain

and take away the one thing
that's holding her together."

So I decided to do it,

and I gotta tell you,

it was really, really rough for me

because I realized when I was medicated,

I was kinda operating in a state
of being a bit, like, numb and buzzed...

"Hey!" ...all the time.

And then I realized
when I was coming off antidepressants,

I was operating more in a state
of being a bit kind of like

a complete fucking monster.

And no one did it tougher than my husband

because he just never knew
what he was gonna get.

He'd come into the kitchen and be like,
"Hi, babe. How you going?"

"Want anything from the shops?"
And I was like,

"Fucking shops!"

"Shop! Shop! Shop! Shop-shop! Shop!
Fucking shops! Fucking..."

"Fucking shops!"

"Ooh, what do I want from the shops?
What don't I want? Shops!"

"Can I please have, uh..."

"...six Twix and four Mars Bars?"

"Oh, and some cinnamon."

He's like,

"Six Twix and four Mars Bars?"

And then I just turn, like...

"And some cinnamon."

"I wanted some cinnamon as well."

"You never listen to me!"

"I want six Twix

and four Mars Bars..."

"...and some cinnamon!"

And he's like, "Hey, it's okay. Come on."

"It's gonna be okay."

"Oh, it's okay, is it?"

Huh.

"Oh, it's gonna be okay, is it?"

"The blatant disrespect
that I constantly get..."

I became like a wronged Cate Blanchett.

Like, "How dare you,
of all fucking people,

think you can speak to me..."

And every character
from Lord of the Rings, it seems.

"You think you're going to the shops,
my precious?"

"Think again, motherfucker!"

It was a really magical time
for all of us, I think.

So, I've also got ADHD.

It's... That's not the joke.

Good to know where we're at though,
Sydney. Good to know.

ADHD.

Attention deficit hyperactive disorder,

which pretty much means
I find it really hard

to retain anything,

and I find it really hard
to, like, stay still, and, um,

focus.

Now, I was diagnosed with ADHD
when I was 16,

and back then, oh my God,

there was so much shame around it.

Like, I thought my whole world was over
when I was diagnosed.

I was so embarrassed,
and I didn't want anyone to know.

And I found school impossible, right,

so my parents thought they'd try
and talk to some of the teachers,

just to let them know
that I had been diagnosed

and I was starting medication,

in a bit of a hope
to try and get them onboard.

It didn't work.

I remember one of the teachers was like,
"Well, Celeste, you know,

now you need to take all the rubbish out

for the whole school
for the rest of the year,

and we won't tell your classmates
that you're a bit fucking..."

Terrible!

It's much better now, which is good. It's...

it's kinda cool to have ADHD now.

And everyone seems to have it.

And everyone seems to use it
as a bit of an excuse, don't they?

Someone will cut in front of you
at the café.

Like, "Oh, I'm so sorry.
That's because I'm neurodiverse."

And I'm like,

"Uh, hello..."

"Me too. I've been here for 40 minutes."

"Get to the back of the line, Elon Musk.
Fuck off."

"Get out."

But people just throw
these terms around now willy-nilly

to justify shitty behavior.

You know, you'll hear a politician say...

Sorry, "politician."

A pervert. Sorry.

Yeah, that joke
hits differently in America.

Whew!

But you'll hear a politician
at a press conference or something,

and they're like, "Yeah, hi. I've actually
just been told that I'm on the..."

"The spectrum."

"...the spectrum."

"That's why I put my hand up her skirt.
Okay."

Or you hear a footballer say...

"No..."

"...the only reason
I sexually assaulted her

is because my mum just said
that I've got ADHD."

No! I hate that.

I'm the poster girl for ADHD, right?

I was diagnosed young,

and I've been on and off
medication for it for decades,

and I can tell you now,

I have never stuck my dick
in anything that didn't want it.

True story.

I've started a new medication for ADHD,
which is good.

It helps me focus a little bit more,

but one of the side effects
is that it really cranks up my anxiety.

It's actually quite full-on.

So I have to move my body
to be able to cope with it.

So I walk a lot.

I love walking.
It's kinda... Walking is my jam.

And I do it as often as I can.
I get up as early as I can to do it.

Try and get up about 6:00 a.m.
to get it done when no one's around.

Or so I thought. Turns out there's
a lot of people up at 6:00 a.m. walking.

And everyone that's up
at 6:00 a.m. walking

fucking love to talk about
being up at 6:00 a.m. walking.

It's like I joined
some morning walking chatty club

that I don't wanna be a part of.

I'll just be out there, you know,
dragging my sorry ass...

...just trying to get it done.

And then I'll see one of them.

It's usually, you know,
an older, straight, white man

just out enjoying his privilege. "Hi."

"This works."

Taking up all the path
because he doesn't need to pick a side.

It's all fucking his.

But then, when he starts to get
a little bit closer,

he's never too sure
what side of the path to go on, is he?

Oh yeah.
What a fun game to play at 6:00 a.m.

Fucking...

"You gonna..."
And then when he gets closer again,

it's like it turns into
some sort of Irish jig.

"Pick a side, Michael Flatley. Come on!"

My favorite people
who are up at 6:00 a.m. walking

are women of a certain age,

and they're usually in a sun visor

and a fanny pack, because they don't know
how long they're gonna be out for.

Ugh.

They are out and about.

They have got absolutely nothing planned,
yet no one's as busy as they are.

Busy. So much on.

So much to do.
Tell you what they're not gonna do though.

Help out with the grandkids.

Oh!

I love those women.

The one person
you cannot avoid on a morning walk

is a second-wave feminist
who just finished her workout.

And she's always in matching active wear

that's just a shade too light
or too dark for her skin,

so she always looks
nearly completely naked.

And it freaks me out.

'Cause I don't know if she knows.
It's early.

And I'm like,

"Oh, excuse me... Oh, fucking hell!"

"Oh, no, sorry, it's just
I could see the outline so I wasn't sure."

"Yeah, I get it.
Free the nip, free the lip, whatever."

I love it.

And they're just so loud

and so confident,

and they want you to know
how loud and confident they are.

They see me and they're like,
"I see you there, my bitch."

"Look at you, you gorgeous girl."

"In your thinning tights
and your oversized sweater. Yes!"

"Go and get that day by the balls,
you sexy boss bitch."

"Look at us being boss bitches."

"And don't let any man,
or unattractive woman,

tell you what you can't fucking have."

"We are bitches and bosses!"

Know what else I don't need in my walk?

Shitting dogs.

So many shitting dogs.

And they wait for me, I'm telling you.

They wait for me. They do.

They see me come around the corner,

and they hunch over.

And you just know their sphincter
is going off in excitement.

And they stare into my soul.

And they shit

as the sun rises behind them.

And you can't get away from it.
I'm telling you, I've tried.

You try not to make eye contact,
and I run away.

I don't run.

I walk away at a reasonable pace,
and they come after me.

"Where you going?
I could take this on the road."

Fuck.

Shitting dogs.

I get sent a lot of things these days.

Some of them are gifts from people,
which is lovely.

People are very nice to me,
and I really appreciate it. But...

Oh, thanks.

I have to say,

most of the things that get sent to me
are usually products from companies.

They send them to me
in the hope that I'll promote them

or do an unboxing.
You know what unboxing is?

It's where a company will send a product

to an influencer,

and the influencer
will set up 40,000 lights...

...lock their kids in the bathroom
for two hours,

and then they will film themselves
opening the gift, right?

Like... "Oh my God, you guys!"

"I just got given this most amazing gift

from Prada."

"It's actually worth
eleventy billion dollars,

and I thought it would be really amazing
for me to share it with all of you

because you guys are never gonna have it
'cause you're broke and ugly."

"Like and subscribe."

Unboxing.

I was sent

eight vibrators in two months.

That is a lot of plastic dicks
to be sent to your house.

And, look, I get it.
I understand that I have a following

and an audience that I engage with,

and it would be smart for companies

to send me things
in a hope that I would promote them

to you rock stars.

But eight dicks?

I... I feel like

they've kind of missed the mark
a little bit with me.

Someone in that office
isn't doing their job.

I am not the most sexual person.

I barely put out.

No.

But look, ladies, I will say this.

I do believe that we all have, like,

you know, a little sex goddess within.

Whatever.

But I'm not the demographic
because that is what society tell us.

That is what marketing tells us.

The people that you see
in ads for vibrators

are usually really young,
completely hairless

with very bushy eyebrows.

I'm not...

It's not...

It's not me.

It is not me.
It is a very specific type of person.

Like, you would never see a teacher,
I'm talking an actual maths teacher,

in an ad for a vibrator.

You all thinking about
your maths teachers?

You should.

Can you imagine seeing a teacher
in an ad for a vibrator? It'd be like,

"Had a hard day in class?"

"Algebra really winding you up?"

"Sick of having to finger bang yourself
behind the tuck shop?"

"Why not try the Jackrabbit 10,000?"

It would sell like hotcakes.

Now, I get these vibrators sent to me
from a myriad of different companies.

I got one sent from Gwyneth Paltrow.

"Oh yeah,
it was truly amazing, you guys."

"It was actually
made from organic duck fat."

Mm-hmm.

"And holistically sourced plastic

that actually benefits the ocean."

"Hmm. And one of the features
is that when you insert it,

it just dissolves inside of you."

"And after you orgasm,

butterflies just fly out."

"And they turn into cash,
and they fly back to Gwyneth."

I got another vibrator sent to me
from a men's company.

That one came uncharged,
and I had to pay for postage.

And that one

only had three settings on it

that all sounded like some form of car.

The first setting was like
a car that wouldn't start. Like...

The second setting was
like an F1 race car.

Fucking hell!

And the third setting sounded like
some sort of tractor duck.

Like, "Quack-quack-quack-quack-quack!"

And it came with
a really thick instruction manual,

about as thick as fucking Da Vinci Code.

"How many ways are there
to use this thing?"

I thought I'd just stuck it in me
and all of a sudden,

Lenny Kravitz would appear.

Oh, I love Lenny Kravitz.

Yeah, I really love Lenny Kravitz.

Yeah, he's got a lifetime membership
to my wank bank, that man.

Ooh!

Mm-hmm. Ooh yeah!
You know what a wank bank is.

It's the stuff you think about
when you wank

and you bank it.

Wow, sorry. I also...

I also was sent a vibrator by Lily Allen,

but Lily was a little bit different

'cause it had, like, a little sucker.
Like, a little...

I looked like Kourtney Kardashian
and Travis Barker on a red carpet.

"Stop it!"

But I was excited to use Lily
'cause I thought it'd be

a little bit more than just
the dull-down cattle prod I'm used to.

It might be a bit of a slow burn.
Who knows?

Maybe some candles might light themselves,
and some soft music will start playing.

Maybe that really hot guy from Bridgerton
will just tap on the window.

Season one, yeah?

What the fuck happened
in season two?

I was watching
season two of Bridgerton going,

"No. No."

"Why are they all talking
and wearing clothes?"

"No. Back to season one."

Season one of Bridgerton
has had over one billion downloads.

I'm half of those.

So I had a bit of time to myself.
My husband took the kids out for an hour.

Or a year. I've got no fucking idea
how long they were gone for.

And I was like,

"All right, Lily?"

"Whassup?"

And I popped Lily on my situation,

and oh my God!

I clamped down on that bitch.

Whew!

I clamped down on that bitch

like a Kardashian
on a skinny, white fuckboy.

I was like, "Come here!"

Things got very intense very quickly.

There was no candles. No soft music.

Not a single member
of the Bridgerton cast showed up.

Lily's got teeth.

She nearly bit my clit off.

There was nothing slow about it.

Instead, everything kinda happened
all at once.

I laughed hysterically,

cried a little, farted...

Came like a demon.

But then kinda randomly
just found myself in the kitchen,

making kids' lunches with numb legs.

"Oh, Lily!"

"Oh, fucking Lily!"

"Oh, Lily!"

"Oh, Lily!"

I said that at one my other shows,

and a woman stood up and screamed out,

"Send the link!"

And sat back down next to her husband
like, "Fucking don't you..."

"You get me perfume
for Christmas every year."

"This year, I get my own gift."

"Send the link."

So it turns out

that I'm quite political.

I didn't know I was, but it turns out
that I have got a lot to say

and absolutely nothing to back it up with.

Nothing at all.

But the Internet, it makes us all think
that we should say

whatever we want, whenever we want,
and however we wanna say it,

and that everyone in the world
is dying to hear it.

The Internet makes us all
now believe that we are much smarter,

talented, and skilled than we really are.

Like, I have never in my life

met more people
who call themselves entrepreneurs

than I have in the past few months.
Oh my God!

No one's just, like, a doctor.

Ugh!

Or, like, an engineer...
Boring! ...anymore.

No, everyone is an entrepreneur,
and they love to tell you as well.

Like, "Yeah, hello.
Hello! Hi, I'm an entrepreneur."

"Yeah, I'm an entrepreneur."

"And being an entrepreneur means
that I assist in the content creation

of a multimedia platform,
really focusing on the grassroots level

of connectivity between brands
near and far and making sure

we have laser focus on buzzwords
like "connectivity" and "grassroots."

"I'm an entrepreneur."

You're like, "Oh."

"Oh, okay."

"You sound very busy."

"What does a work week look like for you?"

"Oh yeah, thank you. As an entrepreneur,
entrepreneur, um, yeah..."

"I sell felt hats at the markets
every other Wednesday

between 11:16 and 11:24."

"My partner's also an entrepreneur.
He collects butterflies."

"Yeah. And actually
his parents have just bought us

our second clifftop property,
right next to Chris Hemsworth."

"We're doing really well."

"Oh. Oh, okay."

"Oh, no, I'm so sorry.
You're not an entrepreneur."

"You're a cunt."

And they've always got
really weird names as well, don't they?

They never used to.

In 1999, it was Troy and Alisha.

But now everyone knows them
as Lacrosse and Spatula.

The world's gone mad.

Fucking bananas.
Do you know who's gonna save us?

Rihanna.

Yeah, I shit you not, my friends.

Rihanna is gonna save us.
She is the queen of all things.

She's all about inclusivity
and body positivity,

and all the products
she puts out into the world

do the exact same thing.

She has literally
put her money where her mouth is, right?

She has a lingerie line
called Savage X Fenty,

and it just caters to
so many different types of bodies.

And now because of her,

other lingerie companies
are starting to follow suit.

Even Victoria's Secret

has started to finally expand
their size range, which is so great.

Although I will...

...quickly say about Victoria's Secret,

they can try a little bit harder

because fuck knows they tried really hard
to make us hate ourselves for decades.

So they can... Yeah.

But now we have Rihanna,

and everything's fixed,

and her Savage X Fenty lingerie,
it's just so sexy.

It's all really sexy. Even the names
of the products are really sexy.

One of the products is called

the Glossy Flossy Quarter Cup Bra.

Yeah, no longer
the Over Shoulder Boulder Holder.

Another product she's got
is called the Little Tart Open-Back Skirt.

Shut up. That's hot.
There's another one that's called

the Gathered Mesh Crotchless Catsuit.

That's hot.

I was on her website, buying everything,

and I realized the one thing
she didn't have on there

was the Last Day of Period
Odorless Oversize Undies.

You know the ones?

Yeah, you know the ones.

They hold your lettuce leaves in place
while absorbing your womb juice?

A guy up the back just went, "Oh my God!"

Oh, that makes me so happy!

Where did I lose you, sir?

Was it the lettuce leaves
or the womb juice?

Oh yes.

Have you guys ever seen
a Savage X Fenty runway show?

Yeah, shit, Bill, it's hot.

Pop that in your wank bank.
You can have that for free. Ooh.

Everyone on that runway
is just so diverse.

There's just so many different types
of bodies up there.

So many different shapes.

Big, small, Black, white.

Some are lumpy. Some are bumpy. Whatever.

But they are all very bendy.

People on that runway that can slut drop
whilst licking their back

and keeping an assertive
sexual eye contact at all times.

Queens so flexible
that they can kick and twerk

and breastfeed all at the same time.

They're all just so sensual. I love it.

I'd love to see
what some of those products look like

on someone who's had the body
of a middle-aged woman

since the age of 12.

You know, someone
who doesn't throw their leg up

every time "WAP" comes on,

but instead will actually go and get you

a bucket and a mop for your wet-ass pussy.

Yeah.

I would love to see

what a Mesh Crotchless Catsuit looks like

on someone named Patricia.

Yeah. We all know Patricia.

She's practical.

She's busy.

She's tired.

Hey, Patricia can be sexy
when she wants to be, hey.

But if her husband tries to have sex
with her more than twice a month,

she'll call the police.

Can you imagine
Patricia backstage as well,

getting ready to go out?

Like, Cindy Crawford is back there,

just being Cindy fucking Crawford,
being amazing.

Lizzo is backstage.

Lizzo just like, "Fucking yaah!"

Bitch!

"Yaah!"

And then they're like,
"Patricia, it's your turn. Are you ready?"

And Patricia's like, "Yeah."

"I've been here for 40 minutes.
Parking's a bitch."

"Can you hurry up, please? I've gotta do
school pickup in 20 minutes."

And then Patricia would come forward,

and she would talk you through
the pros and cons of every product.

"Hi, Patricia here.
I'm not gonna waste your time."

"Just wanting to talk to you
about the leather thong that I'm wearing."

"We don't recommend wearing this
after having a spicy curry."

"'Cause look, as you know,
it doesn't matter how many times you wipe,

sometimes things get stuck."

"I'll just let you know about the colors.
This one comes in red, black,

and for a limited time only, puce."

"Now, moving on to the nipple tassels,

for you queens out there who, like me,

have nipples the size of dinner plates..."

"...don't get these."

"Hold out for the silk pasties.
They'll be in in a month."

"And just lastly,

I wanted to talk to you all about
the low-rise lace brief that I've got on."

"Getting a lot of emails online
about this."

"You all wanting to know if you should
purchase this particular product

if you have a gunt."

"Hmm?"

"And we say,

"'Abso-fucking-lutely.'"

"We are all about the gunt."

"We don't want you to shy away
from said gunt."

"Instead, we want you to lean into it,

and just make a clear choice
to either tuck her in

or just let her hang out."

I just wanna make sure
all the cameras can get it.

All the guys on the cameras are like...
"Yeah, we've got it."

So recently I wrapped filming

on my first Netflix TV show, which...

Thanks.

Thanks, you guys. It was awesome.

Um, and in the show,
I had to do my first-ever sex scene.

And I had to come.
I had to orgasm in the scene.

So much so that the first line
of the scene is me saying,

"Oh shit, I'm coming!"

Sorry, ladies.

That means to finish.

Yeah. Yeah.

All the men are like,
"She's right. That's what it means."

So I was talking to my husband about it,

and I was like, you know,
"I've gotta do this sex scene."

He said, "How are you feeling about it?"
"I'm all right."

"I'm a little bit nervous
'cause I have to come."

"I have to orgasm in it."

And he went... "Oh."

"God."

"Oh."

"What face are you gonna pull?"

And I was like,
"The one I pull twice a year? Fuck off."

So I got to set,
and I met my scene partner.

He was lovely, and we were
just talking through the scene,

and he said to me, "Is there anything
that you just don't want me to do?"

And I went, "No, it's all right...
Actually, yeah."

"Is it okay if you don't fondle
with my double chin as a kink?"

"Is that okay?"

He was more than okay with that,
so that's good.

Now, in the industry now, we have
what's called intimacy coaches

or intimacy coordinators, right,
and they are fantastic.

They are there to keep us safe
from Harvey Weinstein, essentially.

It's a big job.

They're there to make sure

that all our lettuce leaves
are packed away

and everyone knows
where they can and can't touch, right,

and how hard they can and can't touch.

And our intimacy coordinator was amazing.

She was an ex-professional dancer

who had finished a tour
with Chicago, the musical,

so she had some excellent tips for us.

See, in the scene,
I had to be on top of him, and I...

Yeah. Again, ladies, supposedly an option.

"On top?"

'Cause I just usually get into bed,

lie on my side, and wait, really.

Not this time.

I had to be on top.

What is this?
Some sort of exotic French film?

So,

I'm on top of him...

...and I turn to the intimacy coach,
and I was like,

"Can you please come here for a second?"

And she came over and I went,

"What do I do with my face?"

Because I'm an actor, you guys.
I know how to act.

I know how to act that.

But this is TV!

I didn't know what to do.
She had the best tip for me.

She said, "You know when you put a Q-Tip
in your ear?"

Like that.

Take it home, ladies!

Take it home!

This is my gift to you.

All you girls are gonna get home tonight,

and your partners are gonna be like,
"Hey, you wanna get into it?"

"Yeah, I'll just get the Q-Tips."

All you bitches are gonna DM me
with photos like this.

Q-Tip. Genius.

So I've got my face sorted.
I'm ready to go.

And we're there,
and we had to rehearse it, right?

And so we were kind of just...

Shut up.
We were going through the movements.

Going through the movements
and everything of it,

and she came over to me
and was saying to me about my hips.

"At the moment, you're kind of,
like, pushing forward a lot."

"Why don't you instead try,
like, popping 'em back?"

"Popping 'em back like that."

And I went,

"Who fucks like that?"

No.

And she said,

"People that come."

"All these people that come."

"The fucking people that come."

Oh God.

So we finished rehearsal,
and we were about to do a take,

and as the director called, "Action,"

she five-six-seven-eighted me into it.

I was like, "All right, bitch.
You didn't come to play."

"Let's fucking go, huh?"

"Huh? Huh?"

So we're doing it,
and, you know, I felt awesome as well.

I had all hair and makeup done,
the lighting was amazing,

and it was a closed set, which means
there was hardly anyone there.

So we're kinda doing it,

and my scene partner was looking up at me,

going, "You're doing great, sweetie!"
I said, "Thanks!"

So we're doing it.
We got all different angles,

and the director called, "Cut!"

And we're all like, "Yay, we did it!"

Because, to be honest with you,
I was actually really nervous about it.

You hear horror stories
about this sort of stuff.

But I have to say, it was
a really positive experience for me.

I felt really looked after
and really safe,

and I actually just felt kinda liberated
at the end of it.

So I'm one of the executive producers
on the show,

and I asked if they could just send me
just a little edit that night.

And they did.
They sent it over that night.

I got home, got it all set up...

...poured myself a little glass of wine,

and I started watching it.

Oh my God!

I don't know what happened!

Honestly, I thought I was giving my best,
like, Demi Moore, like, Striptease vibes.

I wasn't. I looked like a fucking terrier
trying to hump a tennis ball.

My husband had every right to be worried
about what face I was going to pull.

The only way to describe
what face I was pulling

- was like a silent machine gun.
- Like...

So you guys need to make sure
you all keep your eye out

for my new Netflix TV show, yeah?

Thanks for coming out, Sydney!

♪ 'Cause you know we 'bout to
Throw down in this place light it up ♪

♪ Sit back and we'll fill your cup ♪

♪ I-I-I know that you know
We re-re-ready to go ♪

♪ So if you're ready to go
Just take it out to the floor ♪

♪ If you got moves, let 'em show
'Cause you know... ♪

Ready?

Go!

♪ We'll work it out
But for now in the meantime ♪

♪ So if you're ready to go
Just take it out to the floor ♪

♪ If you got moves, let 'em show ♪

♪ 'Cause you know we 'bout to throw down
In this place, light it up ♪

♪ Sit back and we'll fill your cup ♪

♪ I-I-I know that you know
We re-re-ready to go ♪

♪ Ready to go... ♪

Thanks!

Bye!

♪ Down in this place, light it up
Sit back and we'll fill your cup ♪

♪ I-I-I know that you know
We re-re-ready to go ♪

♪ So if you're ready to go
Just take it out to the floor ♪

♪ If you got moves, let 'em show ♪

♪ 'Cause you know we 'bout to throw down
In this place, light it up ♪

♪ Sit back and we'll fill your cup ♪

♪ I-I-I know that you know
We re-re-ready to go ♪