All language subtitles for Sean.Lock.Lockipedia.Live.2010.1080p.WEBRip.x264.AAC-[YTS.MX]

Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome
onto the stage Sean Lock!

CHEERING AND APPLAUSE

This programme contains very strong
languge.

Thank you!

Oh, thank you very much! Hello.

What a fantastic welcome.

It is lovely to be here.

It's especially nice for me
to be here tonight,

because recently...
I'd had a third kid quite recently.

APPLAUSE

It was nothing. I was pissed!

LAUGHTER

I did the bare minimum.

But no, since I've had a third kid,

any excuse to get out of the house,
I'm up for it!

The other day I was going through
the kitchen cupboards

trying to find something
we might be a bit low on.

"Just got to nip round the corner!

"We've nearly run out of nutmeg!"

I'm just a bloke.
Every now and then I'd like to skive.

I think it's a man's thing.

And if I get enough time,
I like to go to my favourite shop,

which is Lidl.

I love Lidl, don't you?

I can feel a few brethren
out there going, "Yeah!

"I like it down there, too!"

What I like about it is
because I don't recognise
any of the products...

LAUGHTER

It's like being on holiday, isn't it?

It's somewhere like Moldova.

I don't know what stuff is.
"I'll, look at that!
Scronge Sploth!"

I don't know whether
it's butter or mastic.

Often I just buy loads of stuff just
to take it home and see what it is.

"Look at this, love!
Puffin Hearts!"

"Ooh! Oh, it'll be like olives!"

"Look at this!
Wasps cooked in their own business!"

One other thing I like about it is
that they have kept everything
fairly basic.

It's simple.
It is less a supermarket than it is
a famine relief centre.

What I really like about it
down there is at the checkout,

they don't offer you
the bag for life, do they?

They don't go in for what
I call the bag for life shit.

Don't give me any
of that motherfucking bag
for life shit, lady!

That confuses them.

Because I hate that.
I hate the bag for life thing.

When I am out shopping, I don't want
to think about my own death.

I'm just getting a few bits and bobs!

I don't want to consider the end.

You know, bag for life?
You know what?

I'm not even sure
if I want these genitals for life.

I don't believe in God, I think
we are on this planet once,
why not try everything?

That went down well, didn't it?

LAUGHTER

I am not saying I want a vagina, no!

No, you've got me all wrong.
No, no!

Just maybe something
furry like a meerkat would be nice.

Oh, that's lovely, that is!

Oh, that's so soft!
Have a feel!

But also, the bag for life thing,
do you know why they last so long,
those bags for life?

Cos you never fucking use them,
do you?

I am always at the checkout going,
"Oh, bollocks!

"I've forgotten it again!"

I've got a cummerbund at home
that has seen more action.

The only way I can remember
the bags for life is if I had them

sewn into the sleeves
of my jacket like mittens.

The way kids do, like that.

I would walk around with two bags
for life. Flopping.

LAUGHTER

"You've got your bag for life?"
"Too bloody right I have!

"I'm ready, yeah!
Now fill it with vodka and fags!

"I'm ironic!

"Let's see who goes
first, me or the bag!

"It's a fucking duel, mate!"

Don't get me wrong,
I think they're a good idea.

They just don't go the right
way about it.

They're not selling them
to us in the right way.

The current system,
they kind of chain you into it.

The checkout girl pulls out
the carrier bags,
looks at you in disgust.

Like she's pulling another woman's
knickers out of her husband's
glovebox.

"Dirty, dirty bastard!"

Maybe I have seen a bit too
much into that look.

She might just hate her job.

"Fucking..."

The other thing I like about Lidl...

Don't worry, the whole show is
not about Lidl, by the way!

In an hour's time, I won't be going,
"I was in Lidl on Tuesday..."

The thing I like about it is
the way they just stick to what
they are good at,

and you know all
the other supermarkets,

Tesco's, Sainsbury's, they're into
everything, aren't they?
They do banking, insurance, petrol.

Lidl don't do petrol. Even if they
did, it wouldn't be called petrol.

It would be called
something like Schtonk.

And it wouldn't come in a pump.
No, no.

It would come in a jar, like Marmite.

You'd spoon it into your tank.

Careful, it's very strong!

Because they all do that, don't they?

If you're a successful company, if
you have a big successful brand name,

you exploit the brand, don't you?

You think of other things to sell
under that name.

There is one company
that can never do that.
And I feel sorry for them.

And that company, of course,
is Just Juice.

LAUGHTER

"Yeah, we are doing insurance now.

"Just Insurance."

"Well, it's not Just Insurance
if you are doing the juice, is it?

"Juice and insurance.

"It's like some sort of weird shandy
you've got going on there."

I accept that is not
hilariously funny. I do know that.

I saw a few faces down there saying,
"He's lost it!"

But it's not boring either, is it?

I think I've found
a new area of comedy here.

You don't necessarily
laugh your tits off,

but you don't walk off with
a pissed-off look on your face.

What you do is this.

You go... (HIGH-PITCHED VOICE)
"Oh, oh, oh, that's funny!"

(MUMBLES)

"He's right, though, isn't he?

"I've never thought of it like that!"

I don't know what it is called
when we make that noise,

but you'll be doing it
a lot tonight.

Like I said, I'm a bloke. I like
to skive. I am a bit of a skiver.

Another place I like to go to
if I get the time is go
to my local petrol station.

I like to hang out there for a bit.
Yeah.

It's a little thrill.
What I like about it is
because they sell booze and porn,

it's like I've had a night out,
you know?

And they don't sell any ordinary
booze, you know.

Like Fosters.

I'd call that a driving beer.
Wouldn't you? Fosters?

A couple of those, it doesn't make
any difference, does it?

I'd sometimes take a can to
the doctor's surgery.

"It's only Fosters.

"Four. It's nothing is it, four?"

My local petrol station...

They sell Special Brew!

In a petrol station!

You can't drive after a can of that!

You couldn't operate a brush.

LAUGHTER

The last time I had a can
of Special Brew, within 20 minutes,

I was shouting at lollipop ladies.

"You safety bitches!"

The thing about Special Brew
you notice is that you never
see it advertised.

I've never seen an advert for
Special Brew. I suppose there
is no point, is there?

The people who drink it can't be
reached by normal advertising,
can they?

If you want to advertise to them,

you have got to book space on
the side of stray dogs.

But also, they sell porn
in my local petrol station,

which I've always found very weird.

Pornography in a petrol station.

Who drives along going,
"I fancy a wank"?

LAUGHTER

"I've got petrol, I've got fags,
got drink, I fancy a wank!
Pull over."

No.

They sell it in the old-fashioned
magazine solid format,

because eventually, it's all going
to be on the Internet, isn't it?

I was looking at it.

I was thinking,
that's a shame, really,

because when that goes,
a lot of skills will be lost.

A lot of skills will die out
that men have developed

over the years of buying it
discreetly and hiding it at home.

They'll be lost.
They're like old skills,

like making barrels
or braiding a shire horse's tail.

Skills we let go too easily.

Because I think hiding pornography
is a skill that women really
appreciate,

but they never knowledge.

Maybe on your deathbed,
they might say something.

"I never found any.

"Thanks for that.

LAUGHTER

"But I know it's here somewhere.

"And when you're gone,

"I'm going to take this part place
apart brick by brick.

"Because you are a dirty bastard,
aren't you?"

And he'll go,
"You'll never find it!

"It's in the other flat!

"The one you don't know about!"

(IMITATES EASTENDERS
CLOSING DRUM ROLL)

LAUGHTER

One of the things
I want to talk about,

I want to talk about
the credit crunch.

Not what happened, I just want
to talk about the phrase.

It interests me as a phrase.

It's all of those phrases, and there
are a lot about these days,

that makes something sound
better than it is.

Credit crunch sounds much better
than recession,

global financial meltdown. It sounds
all right, credit crunch, doesn't it?

Like a breakfast bar or something.

And there are loads of these phrases

and words which make things
sound better than they are.

For example, cottaging.
That sounds...

That sounds like a village festival,
doesn't it?

They put a waistcoat on a ferret
and he runs through the village...

whichever house he stops at,
they get a free ham, you know?

If you didn't know what it was
and someone said,

"We're going cottaging..."

You'd be tempted to go, "Yeah, I'll
come. That's all right, yeah."

"Do I need wellies?"

"Yeah, definitely, yeah."

"I'd call that the bare minimum,
mate."

Comfort zone,
you hear that one a lot.

"I was out of my comfort zone there."

"I didn't really feel like I was
in my comfort zone."

What they mean by that is,
"I'm shit at this."

But they don't, they say, "I'm out of
my comfort zone."

In my opinion, the only time you
should use that phrase in a sentence

is if you've done something
like maybe put a panda

on a roller-coaster.

"I think Chi Chi was out
of his comfort zone.

"On Nemesis II at Alton Towers.

"He wasn't. He didn't like
the double corkscrew, oh, no.

"To tell you the truth,
he didn't like the drive up there...

"In fact, he hated it.

"A good job it was a hire car,
he slashed the roof.

"Hated queuing, hated it.
They don't queue in the wild. No.

"They just do what the fuck
they want.

"If it wasn't for
the big bag of Revels,

"we'd never have got him
on the ride."

Talent, talent,

that's a word that always promises
a lot more than it delivers.

Particularly when it's preceded
by "Britain's Got", isn't it?

It should be called Freaks, innit?
Britain's Got Freaks.

Britain's Got Desperate Freaks,

who look they've just come out
of the sea.

Yeah, desperate freaks who really
have left it so late in life

to give then any chance of improving

their surroundings
or their lifestyle.

It's got to where point where
they're standing in lederhosen,

seeing Bright Eyes, beating
themselves over the head with a tray,

thinking, "This will get me
out of negative equity."

Not Susan Boyle though,
she's a very different case.

A very talented woman.

And also she's a very powerful
weapon in the war against terrorism,

Susan Boyle, yeah.

A lot of young extremists
are thinking twice about blowing

themselves up now they know what
a real virgin looks like.

Of course there's another phrase
that does the opposite of what

I was talking about,
makes things sound worse.

It's that phrase, I hate this
phrase, Broken Britain.

I hate that phrase.
It's obviously very fatuous,

a stupid way to look
at a country's problems.

"It's broken." It's like a biscuit
or a toy. "It's broken."

What really annoys me about it is
it does suggest that there was

a time when this country
was just dandy.

Everything was tickety-boo.

People walking around going...

# Consider yourself our mate... #

# Fish for sale. #

People just doing congas everywhere.

# Cha cha cha, cha cha

# Cha cha cha, cha cha

# Ba ba ba ba ba ba... #

"What's going on?" "It's Wednesday."

And I can only remember as far
back as, say, the '70s.

That's how far back I go.

Things were pretty shit then,
as I remember.

Just by basic level,
things like food.

My diet in the '70s was pretty
much exclusively mince.

Every night I'd sit down
and it would be a different

version of mince in front of me.

For me, the '70s was a river
of mince going past my eyes.

With different toppings,
mashed potato, pastry,

that was it actually, just the two.

And then just open-top mince.

My mum couldn't be bothered
to put anything on it.

Just have some mince and shut up.

I never drank a drop of water
the entire decade. Never.

I swear I never, ever drank water.

I didn't start drinking water
until 1995.

I drank squash,
litres of the shit every day.

And this is before they'd
regulated foods and drinks.

Christ knows what chemicals
were in that squash.

All I know is the first time
I tried cocaine I thought myself,

"Seems familiar."

I spend the entire decade
just running like this.

Like following the path of a bee
that had been there earlier.

I never stopped talking.

I was like a nine year-old
chat show host.

Is that your bike?
How many gears?

3, 5, 7, 9, 12?

What did you get it for?
Birthday, Christmas?

Find it, buy it, borrow it, your
auntie's, your uncle's, your sisters?

Why are you wearing shorts?
It's not hot.

What are you playing? Football,
tennis, rugby? Squash, badminton?

I saw the Flintstones last night.
Good, wasn't it?

Turns out Wilma's mother wasn't
coming to stay.

No need to panic after all.

You got a front door key?
I have. Mind you, there's no point.

I have to stand on a wheelbarrow
to reach it

and that's locked in the shed.
Mental, isn't it?

Do you want to see a dead frog?

There you go, look.

I was a lunatic,
just sweating mince and squash.

I was deeply unhappy as well.

Deeply unhappy because I'm
constipated just like everyone else

in the country.

Only time you had a fruit
or a vegetable,

it accidentally fell in the mincer.

The whole country was constipated
in the '70s.

The three-day week was nothing
to do with labour relations.

People just couldn't carry
that around for five days.

Terrible.

In our bathroom, we used
to have a light on a cord.

You pulled the cord
and a fan used to come on.

The fan would go... bbbbpp!

I naivety thought that was for
ventilation.

It wasn't until the power cuts

I realised that it was actually
to muffle sound.

Sounds my dad would make.
The sounds you'd make

if you had to put a double mattress
up a spiral staircase.

Come on, you bastard.

Come on!

Oh, Christ!

Oh!

Is nobody going to help me
with this?

And that wasn't the weirdest
thing in our bathroom.

Over the toilet roll
we had a crocheted Spanish lady.

That affected my development.
I'm a young lad.

I've got mince, squash and hormones
coursing through my system.

Every time I go to the toilet

I put my hand up
a little woman's skirt.

Affected my relationships
with women for a long, long time.

I thought they had a toilet rolls
round their legs.

I was terrified of them.

We had loads of weird things
in our house.

We used to have a nest of tables.
Never understood that.

I don't know what it was for.

I imagine there must have been
a scenario where you needed

three tables of different sizes.

I suppose maybe the Three Bears
would pop round.

And they would all have their dinner
in front of the telly.

There you go, work away, lads.

There were some fantastic comedians
in the '70s, fantastic comedians,

but the majority were
sexist, racist, homophobic.

In fact, those were categories
at the British Comedy Awards.

It's very easy to offend
people these days.

I think it's particularly bad

since the Jonathan Ross,
Russell Brand phone calls.

Since then everything's
got quite bad.

I thought the BBC handled that very
badly, the sackings, the suspensions.

The Director General of the BBC
should have gone on the news,

"There were complaints about
phone calls to Andrew Sachs,

"I'd just like to say on behalf of
the BBC, fuck off."

I just think the BBC missed
an opportunity there

because if you'd said that,
they could have made the BBC

complaints line
a premium-rate number.

That would have gotten rid
of the licence fee over night.

People just phone up saying,
"I can't believe you just..."

It's brilliant, you could make
programmes to cause as much

offence as possible, you know,
it would be brilliant.

You could refund the BBC.

At the end of Top Gear,
the Stig takes off his helmet...

It's Michael Barrymore.

Open the Ready Steady Cook bag,
there's a kitten and some bleach.

"Some kind of omelette, I guess."

An episode of Doctor Who
where they use the TARDIS

to bring in illegal immigrants.

"Come on, there's thousands
in there."

After two hours' Live Badger Watch,
Bill Oddie gets fed up,

chucks a firework down the hole.

Here they come!

You can swear on Channel 4
as long as you're a chef,

for some bizarre reason.
Chefs are allowed to swear.

You can't swear on gardening shows
or property shows.

I've never heard Kevin McLeod,
halfway through Grand Designs, go,

"The winter's drawing in, they still
haven't got the fucking roof on."

Which is a good reason to swear,
isn't it?

Not because some broccoli
is overcooked.

"The fucking broccoli
is too fucking soft...

"I can't cook this fucking
broccoli...."

They haven't got a roof, Gordon!

Get some perspective, man!

I think they should have a lot more
swearing in property shows.

I think dire DIY SOS should be
called Who Made This Piece Of Shit?

And you can see why they let Gordon
swear, he's got issues, hasn't he?

You don't get those lines
in your face

worrying about roast potatoes,
do you?

Some serious shit
has gone down there.

And nobody likes gratuitous swearing.
I don't like it.

Particularly in porn films.
I think, "Come on."

You're both having a lovely time.

She's performing acts
of great kindness.

All you can do is swear?

I can't listen to it.

I have to turn the sound down,
I can't...

Put Level 42 on.

# Waca waca wah... #

I always think it's funny
in the tabloids

because they want to print
swear words but they can't so they

always put the first and last letter
and put a load of asterisks in there.

A bit like "Jordan called Peter

"an F star star star star star G,

"C star star T."

That's the closest most Sun readers
get to a crossword, isn't it?

I've got "folding coat".
What do you think?

Sharp tongued
young lady, isn't she?

It's a weird paper,
the Sun, isn't it?

Sometimes I think the Sun
is really funny.

News In Brief is very funny.

The page-three girl with
a bubble or comment

on the topical news of the day.

"Avril from Gosport
thinks it's outrageous

"that Gordon Brown misled
the Chilcott Inquiry."

She's standing up there
with her tits out like that.

"Yeah, I think it's really
outrageous."

"And I'm all wet."

No, because I think that's funny.

It's a good joke because you don't
associate glamour models

with having strong opinions
on those subjects.

They're not the brightest.

They spend more time in their school
uniform now

than when they were meant to.

Sometimes it's a bit creepy,
the Sun.

Remember that girl from Harry
Potter, Emma Watson, played Hermione.

They had a countdown
to her 16th birthday.

They did, that's true.
I'm not making that up, they did.

I was thinking,
imagine if I did that.

Imagine the trouble I'd get into
if I did that,

if I followed 15 year-old
girls round the streets.

"Five days to go!"

There's one Channel 4 show you
could have a lot more swearing in,

which is that show
Ten Years Younger. Yeah.

Or as I like to call it,
Please Reduce My Ugliness.

LAUGHTER

Where do they get those people from?

You don't see them
wandering about, do you?

I think they put adverts
at the end of tunnels.

LAUGHTER

And they come out at dusk,
like that. Arrrgh!

Arrrgh! Arrrgh!

GUTTURAL SPEECH

Get the one that can read!

It says, "Are you a buck-toothed,
floppy-arsed,

"cock-repelling growler?"

"Are you so ugly you make men
stab themselves

"with their erect penises?"
Like that. Ow, ow, ow!

Lovely image, isn't it? I was
watching it the other day, actually,

I thought I'd check myself out.

I stood in front of the mirror,
stripped off.

And to my surprise,
I realised I've got a six-pack.

Yeah, yeah.

Trouble is, it's in my forehead -
look.

That's bad, isn't it? Look at that!

I don't know if you can see that
up the top but basically, I make
Ramsay look like Hannah Montana.

I was thinking,
how did my face get like this?!

What's caused it?

I was thinking, what have I seen

to pull this expression
so much in my life?

What have I seen?!

The only explanation
for this expression

was if I had Alzheimer's
and I drove a ghost train.

(HE MOUTHS)

LAUGHTER

I'm sure there's an explanation
for all of them.

That one there's when the council
changed the bin collection day.

This deep one, here,
that's man's inhumanity to man.

Oh, the human race has done
some terrible things, hasn't it?

And that one there's
when they changed Jif to Cif.

Nooooo!

This one here, I've worked out,

that's the thousands of hours I've
spent in my life looking for keys.

I worked out I've spent at least
six months of my life,

in the hallway of my house,
just going, "Oh, for fuck's sake!

"Where's the fucking... The keys...
Fucking... Argh!

"Duh... Oh... Du... Argh!"

My wife always says the same,
"Have you looked everywhere?"

I go "No, of course I haven't!

"Cause I'd have found them,
wouldn't I?

"They've got to be somewhere!

"We're not suggesting
they've dematerialised!

"To be honest, I haven't even
covered the Northern Hemisphere.

"I've just done the hallway
and a bit of the kitchen.

"I didn't even lift anything up - I
just went, 'Nah, fuck, lost 'em.' "

I've got two lines between my eyes.

They're permanently there.
They're like buttocks in my face.

It's like someone's sitting
on my face,

going, "Having a nice day, Sean?"

I call these
my lack-of-respect-lines,

because I don't feel I get enough
respect. You know, in society.

I'm not saying I want awards or OBEs
or anything.

I don't want people to step back
when I walk in.

Little things.
Maybe if people didn't speed up

when I cross the road.
That'd be nice.

I wouldn't say it happens regularly,
but often enough

to make me feel like a
less-than-valued member of society.

I'm sure many of you
have experienced that -

you walk across the road and think,

"They're speeding up, aren't they?"

It's horrible.

But what's worse about it
is what it makes you do.

Suddenly you have to accelerate...
from a casual walking pace.

You're walking across the road,
like this...

"They're speeding up, aren't they?"

And then you have to do this!
You go...

It's like you're in Swan Lake,
or something like that. Uhhh! Uhhh!

It happened recently. This VW Golf
came over the brow of the hill.

I heard the revs go "Vrrroom!"

I thought, "Right, we're on".

My heels got onto the kerb just as
the car went by, "Vroom!" Like that.

I did what most of you have done.
Well, many of you.

As he was driving off,
I went like this. I went, "Wanker!"

"You wanker!"

And I think this is fair enough.

I call this the pedestrian's horn.

I haven't got an inbuilt horn.
If I did, that would be fantastic.

If I had this rigged up to speakers
all over the country,

it'd be fucking great.
I'd just go...

(BELLOWS FOGHORN IMPERSONATION)

How good that would be.
That'd be great.

To be honest, I'd abuse it. I'd
use it when it wasn't necessary...

Maybe an old lady,
paying with coupons...

(BELLOWS FOGHORN IMPERSONATION)

Someone on the wrong side
of an escalator.

(BELLOWS FOGHORN IMPERSONATION)

I'd just hang around Starbucks,
waiting for people to say,

"Can I get a coffee?"

(BELLOWS)

It's not GET, it's HAVE!

If you GET a coffee,
YOU WORK THERE!

LAUGHTER

APPLAUSE

They GET the coffee, you HAVE it!

AAAARGH!

That's another line.

But sadly, I haven't got that.
I use this.

This is the next best thing.

I think what I'm communicating
to the guy, as he drives off,

is, "Hey! Hey, I know you tried to
kill me, yeah?

"I'm not thrilled about it,

"so let's not meet up on a regular
basis and do this, yeah?"

But he obviously didn't
agree with that.

Because he stopped.

So I thought,
"I might stop as well."

Oooh, oh!

Ahhh, ah!

Ahhh... The old cricket season's
starting soon, isn't it?

Hey, yeah.

# I feel like Chicken Tonight

# I feel like chicken, chicken
Chicken, chicken... #

Cos I was thinking,
if I'd just carried on...

Because he started
reversing towards me...

If I'd carried on, he'd have
reversed up, and I'd have gone...

Urrrrrr.....

"This? Nothing. No, I just...

"I just love those
Gold Blend ads, yeah."

Anyway, he did, he started reversing
up the road towards me.

I thought, I can't do that as well.
I can't walk back across the road.

Let him have another go. "Go on.

"Yeah, it was a bit of fun,
wasn't it?"

He wound the window down,
and he was a horrible looking bloke.

He looked like the sort of bloke
who'd turn up at a sex trial

just to bang on the van.
Those sort of people.

He wound his window down,

and this is absolutely true,
what he said - I swear.

He went "Did you wank me off?"

LAUGHTER

And I wanted to laugh,

but I didn't feel the mood
was right.

What I couldn't believe was
he didn't realise what he'd said.

He said it again,

"Do you think you can just
wank me off like that?

"Nobody wanks me off!"

Which may explain
the excessive speed.

But...

Because my wife doesn't like me to
bring loads of bags from the shops,

she just gives me one of her
shopping baskets. "Take that."

That's what I was carrying that day,

and it's like a real ladies'
shopping basket.

Bright green plastic, like that.

Big green handles, and on the side
was a purple and pink flower.

That's what I was carrying.

So I looked pretty soft.

I'm not a hard man but I'm not
as soft as I looked, carrying this.

Basically, this is what
he saw going across the road.

I looked like Julie Andrews.

# La la la... #

So then he said to me,
"Do you want me to break your jaw?"

There's no right answer
to that, is there?

If I say "yes," that means "yes,"

if I say "no,"
that's like "yes, please."

So, you know when you're
in a tricky situation,

sometimes you don't think.
So the first thing I tried was this.

Hurgh! I thought there must have
been a first time for Spider Man.

I thought...

"I'll give it a go..."

"I've never actually done
that before...

"Might get lucky."

Obviously, nothing happened.

Because I probably
wouldn't be here now -

I'd be fighting crime.

So what I did was -
and I didn't think this through -

I lifted the basket up
so it was very close to my face.

I looked him in the eye and said "By
the way, this isn't mine, you know".

And it sort of worked.
Well, I say it worked -

he spat at me, called me a cunt
and drove off.

I was quite pleased with that.

If you'd offered me that at the
start I'd have bitten your hand off.

Spat at, called a cunt, drove off?
Let's do it now!

Where do you want me, over here?

(SPITS) Bye!

I don't think an ombudsman
could have done a better job.

As he drove off,
I was thinking to myself,

I wonder if he's realised
what he said?

He's probably going,
"Yeah, nobody wanks me off, no.

"Anyone thinks they can wank me off,
they are very much mistaken."

When really, he should have been
thinking,

Why'd he do that...?

I came to the conclusion that
I might have masturbated too much.

The reason I came
to that conclusion

was I was having a conversation
with a group of friends.

I'm pretty sure everyone's
had this conversation.

You know where you're talking about
what were you doing

when a famous person died?

You know that conversation you have?

We were talking about what
we were doing when Diana died,

and I remember very vividly,
I was masturbating

in front of the television.

I'm not proud of it.
Why would I be?

Although, the snooker was on,
so it wasn't easy. But...

LAUGHTER

I thought, that's terrible,
isn't it? That's terrible.

Someone's just randomly chosen
a snapshot, a moment in time,

and if I happen
to be masturbating then,

it suggests I've been doing it
too much, you know.

Then I thought maybe I was
just unlucky with that one.

I said, "Try someone else."
"The Queen Mother."

I went, "Oh, you're joking,
aren't you?"

Oh...

"All right, an event. 9/11."

"Oh, this is a setup, isn't it?"

For a while, I thought
maybe my penis was evil.

But when Michael Jackson died
I wasn't -

I was actually driving
and the news came on Radio Four,

and the way they deliver the news
is very un-sensational.

The newscaster went, "The singer
Michael Jackson has died

"of a cardiac arrest
at a Los Angeles hospital.

"This summer he was due to appear
in concert at the O2 Arena."

Then there was a little beat
and he went,

"Those concerts will now
not be taking place."

I kid you not.

As if there's people driving
along, going, "What, none of them?"

"He's cancelled the lot?!"

It's very patronising of Radio Four.

They're going, "Do you think they'll
understand that cos he's dead

"he won't be able to do the shows?
Should we explain that,

because some of them really haven't
got a clue what's going on?"

They might as well have gone,
"Michael Jackson is dead.

"He's dead, dead, dead, dead, dead,
dead, dead.

"This summer he won't be singing,
he won't be dancing,

"he won't be moonwalking.

"Because he's dead!

"There are snails in your garden
with more chance of appearing

"at the O2 Arena...

"than Michael Jackson, because
they're alive, and can slowly

"pull themselves towards what
used to be the Millennium Dome.

"Whereas Michael Jackson
is just dead."

But what I thought was strange
was the amount of funerals he had.

He seemed to have three.

The first in the Staples centre -
that was like he was engaged

to be dead, wasn't it?

Then another one, then another one,

and it got me thinking about my own
arrangements, my own shuffling off.

I don't want a big hoo-ha.
I'm sure there won't be,

but I don't even want an undertaker.
No.

I want a man with a van, right?

To come round our house.

You know, a little Bedford rascal -
"No job too big, too small."

Some are called Terry.

"Yesterday, I took some gnomes
to the skip, yeah.

"Different every day, this job.
Different every day."

I don't want a coffin - I want to be
rolled up in bubble wrap,

and carried out like a carpet,
like that.

Someone won't be able to resist
popping it during the service.

"Sean was a well known
entertainer..." Pop, pop, pop, pop.

"Oh, sorry. Sorry."

I don't want to be buried,
I don't want to be cremated,

I don't want my ashes
put in a rocket and fired

over a mountain range. No.

When I die, I want to be
fly-tipped, like that.

LAUGHTER

Over a hedge, down a country lane.

In an area of
outstanding natural beauty.

So I'm still annoying people
when I'm dead.

And I want my arm
varnished in this position.

Just in case that bloke drives past.

"Is he wanking me off over there?"

Course, they wont let me
do that, will they? So, um...

So I'll have to be cremated.

But they won't even let you scatter
your ashes wherever you want.

Because if I could, I'd have mine
scattered in Piers Morgan's eyes.

Like that.

"Aaaaarghh!"

One of the things
I wanted to talk about

is recently I've become interested,
or become concerned,

about female role models.

It's something that's
on my radar of concerns

because I've got two daughters.

Before I had daughters,
I wasn't really that concerned,

I wasn't that interested.

To be honest,
I didn't really give a shit!

If I was asked,
"How do you feel about how women
are represented in the media

"and the effect on the behaviour of
young women?" I would have gone...

(MAKES BIG FARTING NOISES)

(TALKS GIBBERISH)

(FART NOISES AND GIBBERISH)

Does that answer your question?

I cared more about the new font
on my local takeaway menu.

I liked the old one!

I've changed. I've become concerned
because it's going to affect me.

There's a lot of talk about role
models, good and bad.

Mostly people say
people are bad role models.

When people say someone's
a bad role model,

it's a politically correct term.

What they're saying really is,

"Can you not do that because
stupid people will be affected."

"Please don't do that because stupid
people copy people like you."

Most of us, we don't give a shit
what celebrities do,

we're not that stupid.

It's basically saying, "Don't do
that, stupid people might do it,

"we're supposed to look after them.

"We're supposed to protect
the stupid.

"Ideally, we'd put them in camps.

"Yes, I know,
but we're not allowed to."

I think that would be fine,
they'd enjoy it.

Put a few hammocks in there. It would
be like live You've Been Framed.

People just going, way-hey!

Someone's who's seen as a bad role
model is someone like Jordan.

I think that's very unfair on her.

I've only got two slight
quibbles with Jordan.

One is the name - changing name
from Jordan to Katie Price.

That's a bit like Noddy going,

"I'd like to be called
Derek Jarvis from now on, please."

"I still wear the hat, drive the car,
but I've moved on, I've matured."

The other thing is the tanning thing.

Tan can look nice, but she's gone
way too far the other way.

She's now the colour
of a hangover piss, isn't she?

You know, some days you look down,
"What was I drinking last night?"

That tanning thing,
that is a bad example.

It encourages young women
to use sunbeds,

with a higher chance
it'll cause cancer

and I can talk about that
because I had skin cancer.

Luckily, they caught it early
and I was fine.

I didn't catch it from sunbeds,
I used to work on building sites.

You work with your shirt off and
it's hard to get a big Irish foreman

to rub a bit of Ambre Solaire
in your back.

"Mick?"

"Mick!

"You wouldn't be a poppet,
would you?"

Someone who I think is a good role
model for young women is Madonna.

She is. She gets a lot of stick,
as well.

What I like about Madonna,
she doesn't take any shit, does she?

She does everything on her own terms.

Whatever she chooses to do,
she does it her way.

I think that's quite admirable
and she's quite pioneering.

She was the first person
to use these microphones.

It was either her or McDonald's,
I can't remember.

Who got there first?
But I always think Madonna.

She needed them for her special
dancing that she invented.

She invented this, didn't she?
You know, all the singers do it now.

They sort of move around like that.

Loads of attitude and they go like
that. Madonna invented that.

She was the first one.
It was a good way for her -

because she'd have a leotard on
and a funny bra -

- it was a very good way for her
to show off her sexual wares.

And get about.

You can see all me bits
and I'm moving around.

She's a very overtly sexual woman,
isn't she?

She's wandering around going,
"Up there you can see my top sex..."

I can't do accents, by the way.

My American comes out
as Australian, I'm sorry about that.

I'm a man of restricted talent.

(AUSSIE) "This is the top sexy area
here, mate.

"You can have a whole lot
of fun up there.

"It's a right old laugh up there.

"You're very lucky
if you get near that.

"Down here. we've got
a completely different zone.

"Yeah! That's party time!

"If you're lucky enough to get
near that, you little rooster!

"And round here,
this is the real jackpot, mate!

"If you get anywhere near that,
it's your fucking birthday!"

I worked out her dancing, basically,
is milk, milk, lemonade,

round the corner chocolate's made.

She has a choreographer at the side
of the stage shouting it out.

"Milk, milk, lemonade, milk,
lemonade, milk,

"chocolate, chocolate, chocolate."

"Chocolate, milk, chocolate, milk,
lemonade, chocolate,

"milk, lemonade, lemonade!

"Lemonade, chocolate, lemonade,
chocolate, milk, milk, milk.

"Chocolate, chocolate,
chocolate, chocolate,

"chocolate, chocolate.

"Chocolate, chocolate, chocolate."

"Will you fucking change it?"

I'm fascinated by her because
she's such an overtly sexual woman.

But not in a seductive, enticing way.

It's quite a threatening way.
It's like, "Yeah, there you go."

(GROWLS)

I imagine if you'd have the
opportunity to sex with Madonna,

it would be like taking a penalty
against Peter Shilton.

In his heyday, you know.

It's like, "Do you think you can
get one in, mate?"

"You've no fucking chance!"

Have you seen her arms?

She's got the arms of a scaffolder,
hasn't she?

Imagine those
coming near your genitals.

It'd be, like, "Brrm!"
"Oh, bloody hell, that was quick."

"Oh, blimey!"

"Yeah!" "I'll do you again,
if you want!"

"Brrm!" "Oh, my God!"

"Yeah! Once I did Guy Ritchie
five times in a minute!"

"He's a broken man now!

"He wets the bed!"

"Oh, gosh."

It'd be like one of those things
that takes tyres off in Formula One.

Be frightening, wouldn't it?

I mean, if I had the opportunity
to have sex with Madonna...

I don't know how that's
gonna come about!

Scratch card? "Oh!"

"I've won!"

At first, you'd be excited,
"Oh, I'm having sex with Madonna."

Then you'd be on the plane
over to America going,

"Oh, Christ, I've got to
have sex with Madonna.

"Oh, my God!"

You get to her hotel suite in LA,
knock on the door.

It just opens like that...
(IMITATES CREAKING DOOR)

It's pitch black in there.

All you can hear is Madonna
scampering about.

Like that.

In the darkness.

Furniture getting knocked over.

(AUSSIE) "Hello, Sean!"

"Have you come to get
your prize, Sean?"

"Come on!"

You switch the light on
and there's bones on the floor.

That's all true, that.

I'll choose that opportunity, the
laugh, to say, "Thank you very much."

You've been a fantastic crowd. I
really appreciate you coming tonight.

I hope you enjoyed the show. I'll see
you again. Thank you very much!

Thank you!

CHEERING AND WHISTLING

Subtitles by
Red Bee Media Ltd