Original subtitles

[cheering and applause]

Hey, hey.

Hey, are you all right?

[cheering and applause]

21.

It's lovely to see you, although I can't hardly see you. You're in the dark.

It's nice to be... I got the best compliment the other night.

I came out and I came down to the front of this theatre here,

and I was on the other side of the street,

where all the buses come round, and a taxi came.

I had a tartan coat on, my little Vivienne Westwood number that I wear.

You can't hide the profits for ever.

[laughter and applause]

And I flagged him down and I got in and he said,

"Jesus Christ, it's Billy Connolly." I said, "Yeah, yeah."

He said, "I thought I was picking up a big blonde."

[laughter]

Never did I think I would be accused of that.

But I'll tell you what, you're a good-looking mob.

I saw you when I was driving in.

I always have a wee look at you, you can't see me, as I drive round.

You all look and see if you've got your tickets. You're all going like this.

Come peering round. And it's a joy.

And I'll tell you a thing that I'm very, very proud of.

You see, there's a fear that your audience gets older with you.

There's a terror that as you get older, your audience is getting older as well.

You're getting grey, they're getting grey, you get white.

You come in and they're all looking the same as you.

And then... And then they start to get fewer and fewer.

[laughter]

It ends up you're on first-name terms with half of them.

Hello, Bobby. Happy birthday.

Aye. Thanks for that wee note. Aye, I saw you...

Fuck that. The last time I performed was quite a while ago,

up in Scotland earlier this year.

I did a Scottish tour and it was fantastic.

I did the SECC in Glasgow, which is next to the River Clyde.

I wish I could tell you what SECC meant. I've no fucking idea.

The SECC, and it's... They call it the Armadillo.

'Cause it kind of looks like one, if you've never fucking seen an armadillo.

And it looks a wee bit like the Sydney Opera House from a distance, yeah.

- Like the moon. - [laughter]

Do you know what my grandson calls it? The Croissant.

I think it looks more like a croissant than it does an armadillo.

And I think he lives far too close to the fucking West End, you know.

I didn't know what a croissant was till I was about 35.

I thought it was a broken sandwich. Hey, you've fucking...

You've sat on this sandwich. There's something wrong with it.

It's all folded up and bent. Somebody's had a fucking sit on it.

So... But anyhow, what I was trying to tell you in the first place

about you looking like a decent audience, you see, now...

The Armadillo's here, the River Clyde's here, where I was performing.

There's another big theatre behind it

where the big rock bands, the Stones and everybody, play.

But the SECC where I was playing is about this size.

Maybe a little smaller, not much smaller,

and then there's the big dust... it looks like a dustbin,

it's kind of corrugated like a dustbin, where all the...

[imitates heavy rock] ..all that goes on, so...

Now, you can get...

It's all in what looks like an industrial estate,

the way they do everything now, the way the fucking town planners

and all those shithead civil servanty wankers

who are always... these people who are looking for power,

they always end up doing things like that, they always plan your town.

Towns aren't supposed to be fucking planned!

London wasn't planned! It's organic.

It fucking happens. It grows.

That's why it's interesting.

Look at planned fucking towns. Ugh.

Now... So that's what they do, anyway.

I was gonna get onto something and I fucking forgot what it was. So...

It's true. It's fucking true.

Anyway, what am I fucking talking about?

Oh, yes! So now... now you need...

To get to the gig, you need a GPS system in your car.

You need fucking satellite tracking system

'cause the streets down there don't have names any more.

There's just fucking SECC, ning, ning, ning, nay.

And you programme in the numbers and your car takes you there.

What the fuck is that?! What kind of world is that?

The world's fucked! The world's fucked!

The whole thing's a huge fucking plot.

You're gonna get up one morning, all the signs turned the other way,

and you won't know where the fuck to go.

It'll be in a different language.

Now, I'm performing at the Armadillo there, in Glasgow.

The Clyde's here, the Armadillo's there.

And if you use your GPS, you get to come round the side here,

past the big rock and roll venue on the way to mine, and I see my crowd.

Remember I was telling you about the audience getting old?

I see the crowd going in across the road. They're all fucking like this.

[laughter]

You know that hip number? That...

Sometimes two of them hanging on like that.

Like a three-legged race.

And some of those ones who have got that leg thing

that guys in car parks have got.

Hey!

[laughter]

Hey, you cannae park there!

[laughter]

You cannae leave it stuck out like that, for fuck's sake!

Who the fuck d'you think you are? Good mind to phone the police.

That brother of mine sees you, he'll get 'em out.

They were all crowding across. I said, "Fuck. Is that my audience?"

- It was Cliff Richard's audience. - [laughter]

He was at the big place.

♪ Come on, little baby Let's a-move it and a-groove it

I like Cliff Richard very much.

He's a nice man. He isn't one of your holy fucking willies.

You know how he's got that name for being a Christian and all that,

and I'm not keen on Christians.

When you meet a Christian, you can never find a fucking lion.

[laughter]

I just...

Do you believe in the Church?

Fuck off and mind your own fucking business.

They're all wankers!

They're all wankers or wallies. Every fucking one of them.

I just did a British tour. Holy Mother of Jesus.

We had a Range Rover and it had its own GPS system

with this posh fucking woman in it.

This... this... this bitch!

This stuck-up, upper middle-class fucking bitch.

And she kept saying things like, "Turn left soon."

What's that supposed to mean?

Soon? What, in a fortnight?

Tomorrow? Quarter of an hour? What d'you mean, soon?

Five minutes?

What the fuck... And another thing.

"In a third of a mile..."

Do you know what a third of a mile looks like?

I haven't a fucking clue what a third of a mile looks like.

Stupid fucking bitch.

[laughter]

D'you know another thing she said, this woman on my GPS?

She didn't call a roundabout a roundabout.

A traffic circle.

[laughter]

At the traffic circ... What the fuck... Where d'you come from?

Fucking traffic c... It's like a country dance, isn't it?

♪ We're all in a traffic circle now

♪ Let's form into a traffic circle

♪ Take your partner by the hand ♪

What the... Fucking traffic circle.

And then if you don't do what she tells you, she goes in a huff.

[laughter]

Wait till you hear this. This is the truth you're getting here.

If you don't do what she tells you, which is quite easy,

like she'll say,

"Take the second exit at the next traffic circle."

So you come up to a roundabout,

you don't know whether to take the first... count the first one,

'cause it isn't an exit, it's just one way coming this way.

You can't exit that way. You would kill yourself.

You'd be in a head-on collision with somebody.

So you say, "Well, this must be the first exit

'cause I can't exit in that one."

Wrong. She has counted that one.

Stupid bitch! She's counted that one.

'Cause she's not driving. She can't crash.

She doesn't give a fuck what happens to you.

[laughter]

She's in the fucking wee black box.

Safe as fucking houses.

It's the same as when aeroplanes crash into the sea

and they say, "We're searching for the black box."

And they always find it. It's in fucking mint condition.

And you've gotta say,

"Why don't they make aeroplanes out the same fucking stuff

as they make the black box?"

[laughter and applause]

So...

I take what she says at her word,

I take the third exit or whatever it is, one of them not being an exit.

- It's an in-xit. - [laughter]

And, of course, she has counted it as an exit, so I'm completely wrong,

and it's the middle of the night and we've ended up in an industrial estate.

We've driven into hell.

Help! Help!

Where are you, you fucking bitch?! Where are you?!

Where are we?!

Not a sound. She's giving us the silent treatment.

[laughter]

By sheer mistake, we manage to get back to the original roundabout.

She comes back on.

"At the third exit, maybe you'll do as you're told this time."

Fuck.

But wait till I tell you.

We left Blackpool, had a lovely gig at the Opera House,

left the following day, went to Liverpool.

- Now... - [raucous cheering]

[laughter]

Now, Liverpool...

It's gonna be a long night.

[laughter]

Now, Liverpool was getting ready for the Year of Culture, the Year of Culture,

and so it was ripping the place up.

It looked as if they'd rolled it up and sold it to Zambia.

So the place was just...

Roundabouts where there wasn't roundabouts before.

You know those roundabouts that workmen just make?

They're just like oil drums joined with planks of wood, you know?

So she wouldn't come on, "At the traffic circle..."

'Cause she has a certain standard, below which she won't budge.

Times may change, but standards must remain.

That's not a traffic circle in my book.

So, we're going, "Where the fuck are we? Help!" So I'm trundling along...

And it's awful where you're flying through the one-way system

and you see a sign, town centre.

Oh, great. Whoosh!

So we pull off into a wee housing estate.

There's a man with a van selling cakes and doughnuts and shit

from the back of this van.

And, "Ah, hello, Bill. How are you doing?"

I said, "Hello, man. I'm lost. I'm looking..."

Now, I can't remember if it was the Prince's Hotel, Queen Square

or the Queen's Hotel, Prince's Square.

Something along those lines. So I said, "Look, I'm really stuck here."

"I've been on this fucking one-way system."

"I'm going off my fucking head."

"I'm completely lost, I'm starving and I'm going round and round."

I said, "If you could just point to roughly where it is."

"Point with the whole hand. Just go, 'lt's over there, Bill."

This is a thing you'll find as you get older you'll do more of.

You stop being precise. You don't go, "It's over there."

You'll go, "It's over..." The whole hand.

It's over there. And then if you're Glaswegian,

you'll give that up after a while and start pointing with your feet.

Aye, it's over there.

[laughter]

Where's Central Station?

It's first left, second right and then it's over there like that.

So...

There's certain things you have to know about asking directions.

There are three lies that you must keep your eye open for.

The first lie is: it's easy.

No, it isn't.

If you say, "How do you get to..." blah, blah, blah,

and they say, "Oh, it's easy,"

no, it fucking isn't, it's very, very difficult.

The second lie to look out for is: you can't miss it.

[laughter]

Yes, you can.

You can miss it so many times

that you never ever find it in your whole life.

You may set off to find it, not find it,

and then just get on with your life

and give up fucking looking for it altogether.

It can be a life-changing event.

The other one to look for is a dodgy one,

when they say, "And as soon as you're past the roundabout, turn right."

And you say, "That's your left hand you're holding out."

"Well, anyway, do that."

These are the things to look for. Now, this man, he said,

"Bill, it's easy."

I went, "Uh-oh."

"You can't fucking miss it." Ding-ding!

"Get on the one-way system."

I said, "I've just come off the one-way system. It's impenetrable."

"Bill, trust me. Go on the one-way going left as soon as you leave here."

"It'll whisk you round to the right down past... you know the Liver Building?"

"Aye, I do."

"You'll get there. Whisk up to the right. You'll go up a hill."

"At the top of the hill, there's a roundabout."

"On the roundabout, there's a big sign."

"Follow the sign for the tunnel, but don't go in the tunnel."

"And when you think you should be turning right, turn left."

[laughter]

"Thanks very much," I said.

"You can't miss it." "I'm sure you're fucking right."

And off we went.

Hopelessly lost within seconds.

We come down a street, one of these streets you hardly see any more.

City-centre street where it's a kind of dell.

You come into the street and it plunges downhill.

And at the bottom of the hill,

you find the railway goes across at right angles, a railway bridge.

So the street goes under a tunnel.

If you go down into the tunnel,

you're just whisked whatever way the tunnel wants to take you.

There'll be no turning round here

if you make that decision, you know what I mean?

So we're halfway down and I say, "Stop, stop."

Because there's a building on the corner,

a building that looked like maybe a bank or insurance company

or a trading company, big pillars.

And there were three big fat... three big girls coming out.

Big fat lasses, big... Not... not obese.

But no stranger to a fucking Mars bar, you know what I mean?

[laughter]

They'd been on the Mars bar diet, these three.

But they were doing it wrong. They were eating the Mars bar.

You're supposed to stick it up your arse and get a Rottweiler to chase you home.

[laughter]

Now...

These were girls with slow metabolisms.

[laughter]

And fucking fast appetites.

[laughter]

So... But they were nice, big, well-fed lasses.

And I said, "Hello, ladies."

"Ah, Bill." They recognised me. I went, "Hello. How you doing?"

"I'm fucking lost here. I'm looking for..."

I told them the Prince's Square, the Queen's thing,

Queen's Square, Prince's thing, whatever it was.

I knew at the time, but it's lost on me now.

And then she said it.

I swear, and I have a witness. My manager is my witness.

She said,

"I don't think you can get there from here."

[laughter]

What?

As if we'd fucking slipped into a parallel universe here.

We're gonna have to be air-lifted into the gig.

I cannae get there from here.

Jesus Christ al-bloody-mighty. So I said, "I'll just try and find it."

And off we drove into the heart of Liverpool,

whereupon I saw a taxi rank and I said to my manager,

"Stop here. We'll get a taxi."

"We'll give him a few bob and say 'Take us there' and we'll follow him."

"Just drive there' and we'll follow him."

Which I have done in the past. I did it in Dundee on the Scottish tour.

I was fucking hopelessly... They're doing it to every town.

Watch out for this. They're fucking the whole world up.

You cannae work your telly, your phone's fucked, you can't phone for help.

Nick, nick, nick, nick. Brr, brr. You get some prick in Calcutta.

- [Indian accent] "What the problem?" - [laughter]

Get the fuck... My telly won't fucking work.

I was in Ireland, I was in Dublin, and I...

- [whooping] - Oh, shut the fuck up.

[laughter]

If I'm gonna get a cheer for every time I mention a town or a building...

I could have brought myself a road map. Why bother?

Read out the fucking atlas and bring the house down.

- Now... - [applause]

Let's hear it for Motherwell! Hey!

Basingstoke! Yeah!

Anyway...

I was in Dublin

and I was in this theatre, the Gaiety Theatre in Dublin.

When I came on from this side there...

Now, I don't believe in ghosts.

I don't believe in anything supernatural.

I don't believe in gods.

I don't believe in angels.

I don't believe in "Whoooo!"

Fucking crap, in my opinion.

Shite. Right?

It's all there to frighten the fucking working class.

"Oh, you behave yourself or the big whooo....."

And I particularly hate middle-class fucking idiot women on television

saying, "I've got a guardian angel that looks after me,

my own personal guardian angel, yes, looks after me, always..."

"And I wear this little angel brooch

and the wee angel, no matter what happens, the angel always looks down..."

Fuck you, pretentious bitch!

[laughter]

- Go to Newcastle... - [cheering]

Oh, fuck off!

[laughter and applause]

Go to Newcastle, Liverpool, Glasgow, the East End of London,

any working-class place, and it's November,

and the sleet's going fucking horizontal,

and there's a wee woman coming from Tesco

with two fucking plastic bags biting into her fucking fingers

as she makes her way up the hill to make her man's dinner.

Ask her if she believes in angels. She'll tell you to fuck off!

[laughter]

So... I came down, I came wandering... There was nothing happening upstairs.

And I said, "What's happening?" I came wandering down.

And there was a man sitting at a desk.

A man with a moustache. I can see him like it was yesterday.

I said, "How you doing?" He said, "Fine."

"I don't always come in," he says.

I said, "Aye. Fair enough." [mumbles] Like I give a fuck.

And I said, "How is it out there?"

That's here. Meaning how many... Is it full yet?

And he says, "It's fine."

And I said, "Great. I'll just go on, then."

The place was like two thirds full, people are pouring in

and there's a fight happening here.

[laughter]

About six rows up, in SN, there's a man there trying to hit the man in here.

And he's calling him a gobshite. [Irish accent] "You fucking gobshite!"

"You fucking gobshite!"

"Fucking bejesus!" And stuff like that.

This was half-man, half-beetroot.

[laughter]

Fucking monster.

Covered in tweed and woolly clothes.

"You fucking gobshite!"

Biff! Boff!

Punching this man, but not punching him,

because the man was ducking and his girlfriend was copping all the punching.

And she wasn't enjoying it one little bit.

The way I used to do with my sister

when my father would come in and whack us in bed.

I would hide behind my sister.

She would get whacked and I'd go, "Oh! Aagh! Oh!"

You see, when I was a child, it was considered very healthy

to beat the shit out of your children on a regular basis.

You can still see it today if you go to any British holiday resort...

[laughter]

..and watch them walking along the promenade, hitting...

"What'd I tell you about that? Get that fucking... Get in."

"Get your fucking..."

They're all eating. Everybody's eating.

Well, I've come out of here...

[laughter]

Mr Beetroot with the tweed suit

is trying to beat seven colours of shit out of this poor innocent man

and his poor benighted wife, or girlfriend,

who's being punched in the top of the head,

much to her deep unhappiness.

The bouncers are up at the back going, "Go on."

[Irish accent] "Fuck that. Fuck it. You fucking go."

"I'm not fucking... Jesus fucking... I'm not fucking going down there."

"You'll get the fucking face punched off of me."

So it's up to me.

So I say, "Hey, hey, hey! What's the story here, big man?"

As it turns out, he's quite a nice big guy, big tweedy man.

He says... And the story unfolds.

He had tickets for my show and he had them in his car,

in the glove compartment. looking forward for weeks,

opening it and looking at them, going, "Fucking won't be long now."

- Somebody stole his car. - [laughter]

He had jotted the numbers of the seats down in a wee book.

"I know what I'll do. I'll go in and beat the shit out of the..."

"They'll be in my seats."

"I'll go in and batter the shit out of the gobshite."

So this guy's sitting, waiting for Billy Connolly,

gets a fucking punch in the face.

The man's got fists like fucking hams.

Boof!

As it turned out, the guy who was being... set upon

had bought the tickets in a pub...

[laughter]

..from the guys who fucking stole it.

[laughter]

Oh! And, do you know, the funniest thing about that,

when I tell anybody that story,

when I say he had his tickets in the glove compartment,

have you ever, ever seen a car

with gloves in the glove compartment?

[laughter]

I've never...

I think all cars should come with a pair of fucking gloves in there.

It's only right and decent, in my honest opinion.

So...

We get to...

Oh, God.

- We got to Cardiff. - [cheering]

Cardiff's a lovely place.

It used to be kind of dark, if I remember right.

The times I went, it was always dark and kind of rainy and dark and strange.

I always kind of liked it, but... Now it's kind of bright.

It's like Glasgow, it looks as if they learned how to use the sunroof.

You know...

It's all fucking bright all of a sudden.

And there's a big nice hotel down on the water.

There's ducks in the thing and a blah-da-da-da

and a fa-na-na-na.

So I'm getting ready for the gig at the Millennium Theatre,

which is a lovely sensation.

That's what it is, it's a fucking sensational theatre.

And so I'm in the shower in the hotel,

and the shower has a speaker

so you can listen to the radio or whatever you care to do.

I'm sure you can do other clever things with it

if you've got three fucking remotes that you know how to work.

Knowing me, the fucking fridge door would be opening and shutting like that

and nothing would be on the thing.

So I managed to get Radio 4,

which is my favourite of all anyway.

I don't care to listen to Kylie Minogue all fucking day.

So I like to listen to Radio 4 and Desert Island Discs

and Down Your Way and all those lovely... Woman's Hour.

I'm always... That's what I've got on in the car all the time.

Blah, blah, blah. So I'm washing away.

Now, Radio 4 has a lot of very sincere people on it. Deeply sin...

Some of them are not all that smooth

or professional, you know, professionalism,

but they tend to have a lot of people

who know lots and lots about small things, you know.

Somebody'll be an expert on the pine trees of Nicaragua or something

and can fucking go on for days about it.

And I find people like that consummately interesting.

So I'm in the... I'm washing away, getting the old scrub-a-dub

and I'm listening, and there's a woman and she's talking about Peru...

- [man cheers] - ..and about Peruv...

There had to be a fucking Peruvian in the room.

[laughter]

Did you lose your Zambian pal? He's up there.

[laughter]

So she... She's in...

She's interested... Peru... Peruvian...

Peruvian music. And she's playing this music. It's all that flutey...

♪ Foo, foo-foo, foo-foo, foo

♪ Fooey, foo-foo, foo, foo-foo

♪ Foo, foo, foo-foo, foo

♪ Foo, foo-foo, foo-foo, foo

♪ Foo, foo, foo, foo, foo

♪ Foo, fooey, foo-foo, foo

I'm giving it... ♪ Foo, foo, foo, foo, foo

♪ Foo-foo, foo-foo, foo, foo-foo

♪ Foo, foo-foo, foo-foo, foo

I'm just going, ♪ Foo-foo, foo, foo, foo-foo, foo

And it ends... f Foo ♪

And she... she comes on and she says,

"Oh, how I love the Wankia music."

[laughter]

The what?!

I swear, Wankia music.

Now...

You can...

You can probably Google it, but I don't know how you spell it,

because I was... I was listening on the radio, you know.

I doubt if it's W-A-N-K-I-A.

It's probably that South American ♪ number.

J-U-A-N-C-I-L-L-A or something. Juancilla.

"Oh," she says, "how I love the Wankia music of Peru."

"It's... It's so evocative."

"Here's some Wankia wedding music."

♪ Foo, foo-foo, foo-foo, foo

♪ Foo-foo, foo-foo, foo

♪ Foo-foo, foo, foo, foo-foo, foo

♪ Foo, foo-foo, foo

♪ Foo-foo, foo-foo, foo-foo, foo

♪ Foo, foo-foo, foo

♪ Foo-foo, foo-foo, foo-foo, foo

♪ Foo, foo-foo, foo

♪ Foo, fee-fee, fee-fee, foo ♪

Couldn't you just see the wedding?

No, I'm saying. Couldnae see a fucking thing.

And then she said, "Here's a special favourite of mine."

"This is the music to celebrate the birth of a first-born son."

♪ Foo, foo-foo, foo-foo, foo

♪ Foo, foo-foo, foo-foo, fee...

♪ Foo, foo, foo

Has that pipe only got one fucking hole in it?

♪ Foo, foo-foo, foo

♪ Foo-foo, foo-foo, foo, foo

The range seems somewhat limited here.

♪ Foo-foo, foo, foo-foo, foo-fee, foo

And then she says it.

With my hand on my heart, I swear, on my grandchildren's life,

she says, "Oh, how I love Wankia music."

"The music of the Wanka people of Peru."

[laughter]

I nearly fell on my arse in the shower. And then she goes on about it.

Apparently they're quite closely related to the Incas.

There was the Incas and the Wankas.

[laughter]

I've heard a lot about the Incas...

[laughter]

You don't hear much about the Wankas, do you?

[laughter]

Nobody ever wonders why the Wankas went extinct.

[laughter]

That's one of the easier questions ina quiz.

Oh, God.

And I've heard a lot of people say,

"Yes, I'm descended from the Incas, you know."

Not one person, not one in my whole life,

and I have lived some considerable time,

not one person has ever said, "I'm descended from a long line of Wankas."

[laughter]

I think you'll usually find that's hurled as an insult at people.

You're a wanker, like your father before you!

- Oh, God. - [man] Billy!

Shut the fuck up. I'm on stage. Have you not noticed?

[man shouts]

Here's a wee hint.

When your light goes out and mine comes on, it's my fucking turn.

- Shut the fuck up. - [applause and cheering]

I did a television show where I was in the Arctic years ago.

Lenny Henry was up the Amazon

and Joanna Lumley was on a desert island.

I got the Arctic. They got fucking first choice.

And I was camping out in the snow, and they used to drop me off in the morning.

They dropped me off there and they would come in the morning to see...

Incidentally, huskies fart like you've never fucking...

Oh, my God.

They eat seal meat.

They live in the snow, eat frozen seal all day and they cannae hardly move.

Then they go, "Everybody out! Get them all chained up!" They're all running...

[makes farting noises]

Seal fart. Oh, God!

And the television people would come and check up on me.

We were a couple miles from the magnetic North Pole.

And I had to make an igloo, and I made a right arse of it.

And they gave me a... Quite clever thing to make, an igloo.

You cannae just fucking have a go, you know, and I did and it fell down.

But they gave me a video camera to look at interesting things.

Now, I think if you're David Attenborough,

there's plenty of interesting things to see.

But if you're me, there's a lot of fucking snow

and pretty much nothing else.

[laughter]

And I would say this place abounds with wildlife.

Unfortunately, they're all white.

[laughter]

So I'm skidding about with this,

and they would come and see me in the morning,

and I was getting smellier and smellier,

and I was becoming very odd and strange.

After about ten days... Because I was wearing a sealskin suit

that this Eskimo woman made for me, and the smell!

It was uncured and a sealskin smells like half-fish, half-meat.

It was peculiar, but you get to like it.

And I had a musk ox groundsheet, uncured.

It smelled like dog shit.

And then I didn't wash for all those days, so I was pretty high.

And they would come up to see me in the morning, to see if I was still alive.

They'd come up and they'd go, "Morning... Fucking whoa!"

"Hello."

And I had a gun to watch out for polar bears.

I'll tell you this. You may or may not believe this.

It's no business of mine whether you believe it or not.

Polar bears... D'you know when a polar bear is sneaking up on you,

he does that?

[laughter]

'Cause he knows his nose is black.

[laughter]

'Cause he knows if he didn't, you would say,

"There's a fucking nose sneaking up on us, look."

[laughter]

And there was an SAS guy looking after me.

He was away down at the edge of the sea, miles away.

That's where the polar bears were going to come from

if they were going to come at all, they would come from the sea.

And he was down there. He was a dead-eye shot, you know.

Paddy, the SAS guy. A very funny and a delightful man.

But he used to scare the shit out of me.

He used to phone me in the middle of the night. We had those walkie-talkies.

"Billy..." He was an Irishman.

He was from the Irish Guards.

He'd go, "Are you there, Bill? Are you there, Billy?"

"Is that you, Paddy?" "Aye." "What is it? And he would go...

[hums Teddy Bears' Picnic]

[laughter]

"You bastard!"

[laughter]

Well, I was out one day

with my video camera, looking for things,

and I was showing various bits and things,

and I saw an iceberg that looked like Jesus.

I thought, "My God, look at that."

If you've never seen an iceberg, they're beautiful.

They're pale blue, baby blue, when the show's on them.

If you take the snow off of them, they're crystal, like sapphire cryst...

..screaming blue crystal.

It's fabulous colour.

But when the snow is on them, there's pale baby blue.

But it looked like Jesus, it looked like his face

looking up just ahead on the snow, looking straight up.

You could see the beard and the hair, the nose. It was quite remarkable.

And I filmed it and we showed it on the programme,

and every wanker and his Uncle Willy wrote in.

"Can't you see, that's Jesus trying to get in touch with you?"

[laughter]

No, it's not. It's a fucking iceberg.

It's a big chunk of ice, you prick.

And I thought they must have an awful low opinion.

I thought they thought the guy was a god.

If you're a believer and you think Jesus is a god

and he's got something against me, Billy Connolly,

you would think he'd be up in the Arctic watching me,

going, "There's that Connolly prick."

"I've always meant to have a word with him. Hang on a second."

[laughter]

"You Billy Connolly?"

"Uh? Behave yourself, you prick."

"O K?"

"You won't know what fucking hit you, son."

[laughter]

"Try to remember that."

You know, you're a god. You can do what you like.

I mean, if you're a god, you're hardly going to go,

"Here's Connolly coming. Right, I'll pretend I'm an iceberg, right?"

[laughter]

I'll tell you something else.

Where the gig was in Glasgow, the SECC and all that,

my family have lived there for 140 years.

Emigrated from the west of Ireland, west of Scotland, both starving,

arrived in Glasgow and hardly moved,

just arrived down at the Clyde and settled there,

yards from the Clyde in tenement buildings.

And my granny lived there when I was a wee boy.

I was born there. 140 years we lived...

You'd have loved my grandmother. She was a wonderful woman.

And she lived just up in Finnieston Street beside that gig.

And she was very brave. Have you ever wondered if you're brave?

Especially men wonder if they're brave.

'Cause we're brought up with all those books about Biggles and Tarzan

and the Last of the Mohicans and all these.

You always wonder if you're a brave guy like them.

And I have been tried on this front

and I've been found to be less than fucking brave.

But you always want to be one.

You hope that if you saw a child running in front of a bus,

you'd go, "My God! A child running in front of a bus! Excuse me!"

Shove him out the road. "Get out the road of the bus, son!"

"Live your life! Live a full and happy life, son!"

"I have had my life. Mine is over."

"Or it will be as soon as this fucking thing runs over me."

"I'll have the word Leyland backwards on my fucking forehead."

"You'll be fine, but I'll be fucked. It'll be over for me."

"Live a good life and be a good man, son. All the best. Cheerio."

You hope you're gonna be that kind of guy.

But probably you're not, and I'm probably not, you know.

We'd probably go, "My God! Look! There's a wee boy in front of a bus!"

"For fuck's sake, are you just gonna stand there?"

"The bus has run him over!"

"Killed him flat as a fucking pancake!"

"Nobody got a phone or anything?"

"Phone a brave guy, get him to fucking..."

Well, my granny, she... she was brave.

In the 1950s, she was walking along Argyle Street,

just up where the Armadillo is, with her shopping bag,

traffic everywhere, tramcars, taxis, ambulance, whatever.

She went along, and a child ran onto the street.

"My God. Look at that wain run into the street."

She drops her bag, not a care for herself, rushes into the street.

Beep, beep! "Fucking leave us alone!"

Grabs the child under one arm. "Stupid little bugger."

"Fucking leave me alone!" "Don't you fucking fight with me!"

Onto the pavement. "Now behave yourself!"

- And it was a wee man with a moustache. - [laughter]

"Fucking behave yourself, missus."

"Mind your own fucking business."

Well, while I was there, 18 months, two years ago,

I was in New Zealand at the time.

- [cheering] - Oh...

Enough. Enough.

And two submarines crashed in the North Atlantic.

It wasn't serious. It was just "krrrr".

A French one and a British one, both nuclear submarines.

And it's easy to crash. It's so crowded, the North Atlantic.

[laughter]

How much do you think the detection equipment cost us

to stop that fucking happening?

How many billion did they vote

to get that fucking fitted on them submarines?

Doo-doo! Doo-doo!

Doo-doo! Doo-doo!

Doo-doo! Doo-doo!

Krrr! What the fuck was that?

[laughter]

What the fuck was that?

Somebody bumped into us, sir.

How did that happen?

I don't know.

Doo-doo!

How much do you think it'll cost to reinvent the whole...

Apparently, because we're both part of

the fucking European Common Market Commonwealth fucking club,

we've both got the same equipment, rendering us both fucking invisible.

[laughter]

It never dawned on them.

A phone call would have done it.

"Where are you going this morning? Oh, we were gonna go there."

[laughter]

If you can work the phone,

if the wankers from my hotel haven't been there first...

[laughter]

How many billion do you reckon it'll take to put it right?

I could sort it for under a thousand.

Under a fucking thousand.

- A window. - [laughter]

Put a window in the fucking thing.

And sit a wee sailor who's not doing anything at the window.

"Hey, you! You sit at the window."

"You see anything coming, you tell me."

"OK."

[laughter]

"Anything coming?"

"There's a submarine along here."

"And I think it's French."

"I can smell the garlic."

"Where's it coming from?" "It's coming from..."

"OK, we'll turn this way, then."

Problem solved! Where's the fucking problem?!

[laughter]

Like I said, I was in New Zealand. It must have been early last year.

You get confused with Australia and New Zealand

'cause it's summertime there when it's winter here

and you think it's longer away than it was.

But I was down there and I was in my hotel room,

and a wee chambermaid was there.

I don't know if they still call them chambermaids

because New Zealand is a very, very politically correct society.

I don't know why. It's just very liberal and very upfront about all that shit.

That was the first place I ever heard a manhole cover

being called a personhole cover, was in New Zealand.

Person... Fucking person... It's not a personhole cover.

It's a manhole cover.

It's a cover that covers a hole

that a man goes down

to work in the sewerage department of the city.

Up to his crotch in shite, and when a woman's prepared to do that,

she can change the name of the lid on the fucking hole,

and not one second before.

- So this wee... - [laughter and applause]

So this wee chambermaid,

who's probably a fucking pillowcase engineer or something...

[laughter]

..and an absolute delightful wee woman...

..she says, "I saw you last night performing at Hamilton Town Hall."

I said, "Did you? Did you enjoy yourself?"

"Oh, what a laugh. What a..."

"How d'you... So funny."

I said, "But you're great at doing this."

"I'm good at doing what I do, you're great at..."

"There's nothing complicated about it." She said, "God, you make me laugh."

And then do you remember I was telling you, people say things

and they don't make any sense and they're funny?

She was one of them. She said,

"I thought I was gonna pee myself with laughing."

And then she says, "And there were four lesbians beside me."

[laughter]

"And they seemed to enjoy themselves as well."

[laughter]

And I'm not the least bit surprised.

I like lesbians.

I'm very fond of lesbians and their lesbiations.

[laughter]

And long may they lesbiate.

- You see... - [laughter]

When I was young, when I was in my 20s,

Oxfam did this thing of a yard of books.

I've always been an avid reader, and Oxfam...

Then I was kind of broke, and it was like 50p for a yard of books.

But you had to take the yard. You had to just take whatever it was.

You might end up with fucking Finnish crochet and stuff like that,

and all that kind of shit, you know.

But you just took what you got. Agatha Christie and all sorts of nonsense,

and I learned so much and so much shite.

But I got a book called The Well of Loneliness.

I was gonna say it's a lesbian book. There's no such thing.

Books don't have gender. But it was all about lesbianism.

It became quite a very famous book, The Well of Loneliness.

And it's quite descriptive...

..of the lesbian sexual acts.

[laughter]

And that's when it dawned on me that I was a lesbian.

[laughter]

I've got nothing against that at all.

That's New Zealand, that stuff, that Maori...

Now, see this?

The people who are close at the front, you can see the coloured bit here.

That was the original there.

It's... a bluebird,

and it's on a red heart,

and crossing the red heart, there's two ribbons.

One says Pamela, and the other says December 4th 2000.

That was the day I forgot my wife's birthday.

[laughter]

Can you see it?

My daughter phoned me, Scarlett, and she said, "Do you know what day this is?"

And I went, "Shit. Now I do."

[laughter]

I was in New York and my wife was in LA. Half an hour later...

[drilling sound]

I said, "I've got you a card, but I have to bring it with me."

And she said, "That's fine." I got serious brownie points for that.

Serious brownie points for that.

Now, all this other stuff, I did a programme,

one of those motorcycle tour ones I do,

and I was in New Zealand quite recently, couple of... four or five years ago.

And...

Whatever, whatever.

At my age, time means little.

Little, little, little.

All I know is, I'm closer to death than I am to birth.

[laughter]

And... Fucking time just goes, "Whoosh! Whoooo!"

The older you get, the fucking faster it goes.

Ssssssscht! People say, "The millennium."

You say, "That was last Wednesday, wasn't it?"

[laughter]

Whoosh!

Here's a year in my life.

♪ Should auld acquaintance be forgot

♪ Happy birthday to you

♪ Oh, jingle bells, jingle bells

♪ Should auld acquaintance

Fuck! Was that it? Was that it?

Well, I went... During that tour I went to see a tattooist,

a guy called Inia, which is the Maori for John, and...

[laughter]

Itis. Inia.

And he has a company... "Moko" is a tattoo.

So he has a company called Inia Moko.

And "hello" is "kia ora", and so he would answer the phone...

He's a really funny guy.

His phone would go and he'd go, "Kia ora, Inia Moko. Can we hurt you?"

[laughter]

And he did the warrior face on me.

He did all those designs for Once Were Warriors,

you know, that movie, the New Zealand tattooed face.

Well, he did my face with ink for the film.

So the following day I went back and I said, "My wife's from New Zealand."

"Could you do a New Zealand thing round this?"

And he said, "Sure."

I didn't think it was gonna be...

[laughter]

I meant kind of round there. So it's a big bugger.

But I'm delighted with it and it's lovely.

What was I gonna fucking tell you about? Oh, aye. So while he...

It takes a long time, all this, you know.

[imitates tattoo needle]

So you're a lot of talking and crying and screaming.

- [laughter] - No, just talking a lot.

And we're talking about tattoos.

And I was talking about a tattoo competition

that I had heard on the radio in Los Angeles.

Now, it sounds ridiculous to have a tattoo competition on the radio,

unless, of course, you're British.

And I was brought up with radio, so I've heard all sorts...

I've heard trapeze artists on the radio, magicians...

[whooshing noises]

I've heard it all, I swear. British rad...

When I was a child, and you can check out with people my age,

there was a radio ventriloquist.

[laughter]

Peter Brough was his name, and the doll's name was Archie Andrews.

"Hello, Archie. Hello, Peter."

[laughter]

You dinnae know if his mouth was moving or not.

It was probably two guys in the studio.

"Hello, Archie." "Hello, Peter." "How you doing?"

"What a bunch of wankers they are listening to this." "I know."

That's the truth.

Do you know what I've heard on the radio? A bonfire.

[laughter]

It was the Queen's Jubilee. They had a Queen's Jubilee bonfire.

They had little beacons all right along Britain,

beacons being lit, and it ended up with a big bonfire somewhere in the south.

And they said, "And over to the Queen's bonfire."

Ccssshh!

I'm sure it was a guy with a bag of crisps next to the microphone like that.

So, anyway, I...

British radio, it's fucking fabulous.

So, anyway, what am I fucking talking about?

Oh, aye, I'm talking about tattooists, about this competition,

which I heard in Los Angeles.

And you had to phone in and say what your tattoo was

and were judged on how funny it was.

And a black girl won, and she had the Tasmanian devil tattooed here,

on her belly, you know the cartoon one, the Tasmanian devil.

[growls]

And he had a... a lawnmower like this.

And she would shave a wee strip...

[laughter]

..of her pubic hair that he had just done.

[laughter]

And she was the winner. Of course, you didn't get to see it or anything.

And we were laughing and talking and I said to him,

"What's the funniest one you ever saw?" And he said, "Well, funnily enough,

I didn't see the one that I found the funniest either."

And he said he had been to a tattoo convention in Hong Kong...

If you ever see a tattoo convention advertised, go.

You will feel so fucking beige.

[laughter]

There are ways to unbeige yourself,

and one of them is go to a tattoo convention,

'cause that establishes how beige you are.

You go, "Oh, for fuck's sake, I am so fucking beige."

"I'm... Beige people think I'm fucking beige."

"I'm a beigeist. I'm a fully qualified beigeist."

And there are many ways and many, many...

There are acts you can do. You don't need to get scarred for life.

You don't need to get pierced. There are things you can do.

Here's a great one.

The beige...

The beige society, they always love to have buffets.

Salad buffets.

Edinburgh Festival is fucking awash with salad buffets at lunchtime.

"Come to a salad buffet with the lord and lady mayor,

and we'll have a salad buffet and we'll talk shite all morning."

[laughter]

"We'll all try and look artistic. Bring your corduroy trousers."

It makes you look artistic. "You wear fucking corduroy and a cardigan,

and some corduroys and lots of fucking pamphlets,

and sit around with one leg going round the other one twice."

"That's terribly fucking artistic."

"And we'll bore each other shiteless about art."

And...

"And we'll have a salad buffet, a salad buffet."

Well, I went to one of these. They're fucking impossible things.

'Cause they give you it on a paper plate.

You get your tomatoes and your wee radish and your spring onion

and your bits and pieces and you get this fucking bendy plate.

You spend the whole day trying to balance the food

from rolling off the plate.

And then you get a drink that you can't fucking balance

'cause you're trying to balance your fucking tomato on here,

trying to watch that and drink this.

Here's what you do to unbeige the entire event,

and it was shown to me by three fabulous actors

who are still my pals today.

You get the plate of buffet, and you get the drink.

The first thing you do is fucking drink the drink.

[gulps]

Put the glass down.

Now you get together

in a sort of horseshoe shape at the buffet table,

so as to cover each other.

You can't be seen from behind.

You whip out your willy and you put it on the plate.

[laughter]

You then get plenty of salad stuff...

[laughter]

But not a big mountain.

The trick is not to hide your willy,

it's to have it lurking in the undergrowth.

[laughter]

- A bit of olive oil. - [laughter]

Don't even think about the balsamic vinegar.

[laughter]

Your eyes'll be crossed for fucking years.

Oh! Oh!

The only cure is to shove your willy through your legs,

like that guy in Silence of the Lambs,

make yourself a mangina.

Oh!

Turn round and get your mate behind you with a fucking fire extinguisher.

Oh! Oh!

So...

[laughter]

So you've got it here, and then you mingle.

[laughter]

Mm. Very good.

I saw your show last night.

It was excellent.

Who designed that show? I thought the design was extraordinary.

You should be so proud, my God.

And I believe you put it on for a pound fifty for the whole show?

It didn't show. It was excellent.

I thought... Mm-hm. Who wrote the songs?

You see, and then you dare each other to go and talk to...

You pick the victim for your friend.

You go, "Right, you, talk to..."

- "Oh, fuck off." - [laughter]

See, it might be... 'Cause they get big shots there. It might be Sophia Loren.

"Right, go and talk to Sophia." "I'm not fucking talking to..."

"You must. It's part of the game, you beige bastard."

"OK, OK." [mutters]

[laughter]

You see people panicking halfway there

and ramming it into their trousers and zipping up.

Then they've got that unique walk,

the olive oil cascading down their inside leg.

[laughter]

She said, "Right, go and talk to the lady mayoress."

"And talk about salad." "Oh, come on."

[laughter]

"You must." "OK. Fuck it."

[laughter]

Hello, Lady Mayoress.

The caterers have done us proud, haven't they?

[laughter]

You have to watch for those wee white plastic forks.

They're unbelievably sharp

and very weak at the neck where it joins the body, you know?

Because I actually hit John Gielgud in the neck with a new potato.

Stabbed it and it went...

[laughter]

"Oh, what on earth happened there?"

"They're fucking everywhere."

Yes, the caterers have done us proud. It's a lovely salad.

You can see the lady mayoress going, "Yes."

[laughter]

I was banned from the Traverse Theatre in Edinburgh

for having my willy in a gin and tonic.

- That's taking it... - [laughter]

That's taking it a bit far.

But beigeness must be confronted.

Shit. I was trying not to be thrown out.

That's right, throw me out!

You didn't know I was disabled! That's how I drink!

[laughter]

You can see the lady mayoress checking you out, like...

And you can see the thought bubble, you can see her thought bubble saying,

"I didn't see sausage rolls when I was there."

[laughter]

Now, you have to beware of the fork making a fucking...

'Cause jealousy knows no bounds, you know.

She might try and whip your own fucking willy off the plate

with a white plastic fork.

Oh! Oh!

You'll end up with a row of wee holes along your willy.

You'll be pissing like a fountain for the rest of your life.

Psshhh!

You'll have to go and see specialists.

Not medical ones. Probably clarinet players.

Show you how to hold it when you're having a piss.

Oh! So, anyway...

my sister told me this.

And she swears that it's true, and I hope it's true,

and if I tell it right, you will hope it's true.

My sister is a retired school teacher

and she supplies herself to people who don't have teachers.

She's a supply teacher.

When somebody is sick or dead, she'll supply herself.

[laughter]

And a lot of her friends do this as well.

And her friend told her this story.

And when she told me the story, I thought I would pee myself.

I was in New York, where I live, and she phoned me, and I fell on...

My phone's next to my bed. I fell onto my bed.

You know that way you laugh, your legs won't work right?

And I told my wife, I said, "Flo just told me the funniest story."

"I'm going to tell my audiences. It's about a dwarf."

And she said, "Oh, you can't, Billy."

"You can't. You can't do that." I said, "Why?"

She said, "Cause you can't... you can't say dwarf."

I said, "Why the fuck not? I'll be talking about a dwarf."

"Surely you can say dwarf when it's a dwarf you're talking about."

[laughter]

She says, "They're little people."

I said, "But little people and dwarfs,

there's a difference between a little person and a dwarf."

"One of them's a fucking dwarf."

[laughter]

"And they both know which one it fucking is."

[laughter]

"Don't give me that shite."

So I decided to tell it.

Her friend was going to supply herself

to a school somewhere.

And she got on a Glasgow bus.

Oh, please be true.

And she sat down, and it just happened to be the last seat.

And the bus took off and trundled off into the day.

Four or five stops later, the bus stops and a wee dwarf woman comes on.

I've now compounded the felony by calling her a wee dwarf.

[laughter]

She wasn't a particularly small dwarf.

[laughter]

She was just a dwarf-sized dwarf.

I'll probably get all sorts of complaints now.

"Dear Mr Connolly. I saw your otherwise excellent show."

"What a pity you descended to the dwarf story."

[laughter]

"I personally am a member of the Tall Dwarf Society."

[laughter]

"I'm six foot four and proud to call myself a dwarf."

"I also do impersonations of chocolate biscuits if you're ever stuck."

Anyway, the wee woman got on the bus, the wee dwarf woman,

and discovered there was no seat

and so hung on to whatever was nearest, the seat or the pole or whatever,

and the bus took off.

There was a wee schoolgirl in a school uniform sitting over here,

probably urged along by her mother, "Give the woman your seat."

"Give the woman your seat."

She went over to the wee dwarf woman and she said,

"Excuse me. Would you like to have my seat?"

Whereupon the wee dwarf woman flew into a rage

and said, "Oh, aye? Because I'm a dwarf, you're offering me a seat."

"Simply because I'm a dwarf."

"Well, I have managed my whole life as a dwarf."

"It's not a problem to me. Keep your seat!"

The girl, cringing with embarrassment, went back to her seat

and the bus trundled on in silent embarrassment for a stop or three.

Then... Please be true.

[laughter]

A big Glasgow woman was getting off the bus.

And before she went up to the door, she went over to the wee dwarf woman.

[laughter]

She said, "I'm getting off the bus and I'm leaving my empty seat here."

"Because I'm a dwarf..." "No, not because you're a dwarf."

"Because you're another human being."

"I happen to be leaving the bus. My seat is vacant."

"I'm merely pointing it out to you that it exists."

"As a matter of fact, I thought you were extremely rude to that wee girl

and you owe her an apology."

"As a matter of fact, I hope when you go home tonight,

Snow White kicks your arse."

[laughter and applause]

Don't you hope it's true?

[laughter]

Well, listen...

we're kind of finished now, so...

But before I go, I'm gonna... Shut the fuck up and do as you're told.

I'll be the judge of when this finishes.

Had you not shouted out place names,

I would have gone on for another five hours.

[laughter and whooping]

- Before I left New York to come here... - [man cheers]

I was...

[applause]

Fucking boom!

He walked right into it.

[laughter]

Oh, that's... Well spotted.

A guy told me a joke.

I go to a cigar store and we sit and sort the world out.

I'm not telling you where it is 'cause you'll come and spoil it.

And there's very funny men go there. Some of them are not very funny.

And some of them are funny because they're not funny.

There's a guy goes there called Taxi, and I swear it's true,

they talked about him a lot before he arrived.

I didn't meet him for the first five or six weeks.

And then they said, "Hey, Bill, here's Taxi. Here's Taxi coming."

They call him Taxi 'cause he's been driving a taxi for about 37 years.

And this guy talks to you like that.

"Hello, Bill. How you doing? How's your mother?"

[laughter]

Like if you met face to face, like that, "Hello, Billy. How's your mother?"

"How's the family?" Fucking taxi driver.

There's a lot of daft buggers go in there, but...

but one of them's an Irish guy and he's an estate agent.

He sells houses and flats and stuff.

And he never struck me as being particularly funny before.

Usually we talk about Manchester United. He's a Manchester United...

- [cheering] - He's...

- [booing] - He's a Manchester United supporter.

You don't need to say any more, really, do you?

They're the same all over the world. "Fucking Manchester United."

"Fucking United... Fucking United... Fucking United..."

He knows fuck all about anything else, any other team.

So I talk to him about Manchester United.

But I like him very much, he's a nice man,

and he told me this story, and I love it,

and I've been trying it out on people.

And I don't know, I thought it wouldn't last this long.

I thought maybe it would only last a couple of days since I was here

and then it would be everywhere.

So if you've heard it, shut up till I'm finished.

If you haven't heard it, sit back and enjoy yourself.

There's a couple in bed in their house. The rain is lashing down.

It's half past three in the morning, four o'clock in the morning.

The rain is lashing against the house.

The thunder is crashing and the lightning is flashing.

All the ashes are happening, flash, crash, lash.

Cssshh! Cssshh! Cssshh!

And the man's lying beside his wife and he's feeling very comfortable.

They've got their duvet.

They're lying there comfortable and, ooh, happy, happy.

The comfort you get when you're in a storm outside the house

and you're in your b... Oh, happy, happy.

Suddenly there's a thunderous knock on the door.

[gabbles]

Who the fuck is that?

Shh! Just keep quiet. They'll go away eventually.

[gabbles]

Fuck, I'm not opening the door to that crazy bum.

The guy's wife says, "You'd better open the door. It might be the police."

"It might be some tragic news. It might be something really, really..."

"Something awful has happened that we should know about."

"It sounds really urgent."

"Oh, for fuck's sake."

So he gets up, his jeans and his T-shirt and his slippers

and he goes down and he opens the door.

Ccccrrrr! Cccecrrrr!

There's a guy standing there sodden from head to foot,

soaking wet.

"Oh, man, you've gotta help me. I'm so stuck."

"I really need a push. You've gotta help me, man. I'm really, really stuck."

"Do I look like the RAC? Do I look like the fucking AA?"

"Fuck off!"

Ccccrrrr!

"Stuck. Fucking stuck."

He's away to bed. His wife said, "Who was it?"

"Some prick that was stuck, says he needs a push."

"I told him to phone the fucking RAC or the AA."

"Oh, for God's sake. You didn't?"

"Course I fucking did." "Oh, for God's..."

"You've got a short memory." "What?"

"Don't you remember just last summer when we were on holiday?"

"We were stuck on the motorway with a puncture."

"A total stranger in a rainstorm stopped and fixed our puncture

and sent us on our way, don't even remember his name."

"Now, it's our duty to pass that on."

"It's your spiritual duty as a human being, as a humanitarian act,

to pass that along, for God's sake."

"Oh, for fuck's sake. OK."

He gets out of bed, gets into his jeans,

puts his T-shirt on and his slippers and away downstairs.

Opens the door. Ccccrrrr! Ccccrrrr!

The guy's not there any more. "Where are you?!"

"Where the fuck are you?!"

"The guy who's stuck and needs a push! Where are you?!"

"I'm over here, on the swing!"

Thank you very much and good night.

[cheering and applause]

Thank you!

[applause continues]

Thank you very much. See you later, guys.

Happy birthday. Are you 21? Happy birthday. Well done.