All language subtitles for Jim Jefferies - 2010 - alcoholocaust

Ladies and gentlemen, this
is your cue to start clapping,

start cheering,

start whooping.

Welcome to the stage

Jim Jefferies!

Hello.

Completed, corrected and synced by: WingeDeath

Thank you, thank you. Thank you
for coming to my show, "Alcoholocaust".

Uh..., guys, fuck, look,
it's a big theater, man.

I appreciate you coming out people.
People who are watching this at

home might know that this
is a fucking monday night.

so I appreciate how
many people have come.

I realize that in this economy,
tickets for things

such as comedy shows

aren't that cheap

for men,

for women,

same price they've
always fucking been,

Women don't pay for things like this.

There's women in this room
have no fucking idea

how much the
ticket for this show cost.

No fucking idea.

Your husband came home,

said, "Remember, we're
seeing Jim Jefferies,"

you said, "Who?"
And now you're fucking here.

Women don't pay.

Basically, women are a bunch of cunts.

To summarize, women are cunts.

See, and I don't know if women
even know that drinks cost money.

you know?

Ugly chicks know.

If you know that drinks cost money,
you're a fucking ugly bitch, but

otherwise, you're a good looking girl.
Good luck to you.

See, my birthday's on
valentine's day,

so even on my fucking birthday,
I'm buying some bitch dinner.

If I meet a nice girl
and I'm in a restaurant

and the check comes and
I put the credit card down

and she's a nice girl,
she'll do the purse grab.

And if I go, "No, no, no, it's okay,"

She's very quick to give up
on that argument.

Other arguments, she can keep
going for fucking years.

but that one, she's ever
so gracious about.

This is why I think
I'd like to be gay.

I think gay would be
a good move for me.

I wouldn't enjoy the sex.
I'd have to get through the sex.

I would have a cock in my mouth,

with tears streaming down my face.

And as the jizz hit
the back of my throat,

I'd be thinking of my happy place,

but it'd be worth while

just so I could split
the occasional bill.

That's why gay guys are happy,

and that's why lesbians are
fucking miserable.

Lesbians are fucking miserable

people 'cause they have to hang
out with women all day.

It must be fucking horrible.

They must just be sitting there at dinner,
going, "I'm not gonna pay for this bitch.

I've just worn my best plaid
shirt and shaved my head.

He better treat me like a
princess."

Now, if there's any lesbians in the
room, and I assume there's not,

because laughter's not your thing.

But if there is, I'd like to
apologize for that last joke.

But if you hate men so much,

stop tryna look like them.

You never see a jew dressed as a nazi.

I did that joke in America.

I said lesbians have no sense of humor
and they're not fun or whatever.

And these 2 lesbians stood up
and stormed out of the room as

if to prove my point.

They're just not fun people.

Gay guys are fun.

I don't care how homophobic you are,

If you're holding a dinner party
and a gay guy shows up,

You get a little excited, don't you?

You're like, "Oh, fucking a gay guy.
Oh, strap yourself in, love, eh?

We got a live one." Right?
But

if you're holding a dinner party

and a lesbian shows up,
you're just like, "Aw, fuck me,

all I wanted to do was
relax and play Pictionary.

She's drawing something political."

You can't even point lesbians out,
and they're so fucking obvious.

They're so obvi... but you
can't point them out.

If you saw, like, fucking, if I see like
2 lesbians in the audience and go,

"Excuse me, are you lesbians?"

They'll be like, "What? What the fuck?
What? What do you mean by that?" Right?

But if I see 2 gay guys in the audience
and go, "Excuse me, are you gay guys?"

They'll go "Guilty!"

'cause gay guys fucking love being gay.

The word "gay" comes from "happy".

They like fucking men
in the ass so much,

they've called it "happy".

I, I have been a heterosexual
my whole life.

I would not call the experience "happy".

I would call it a struggle, at best.

I'll tell you another reason why
it must be awesome to be a gay guy.

It must be wonderful
to be in a relationship

where, if you're partner's
being a dickhead,

you can punch him in the head.

Hasn't that got to give your
relationship a whole new dimension?

I can't tell you the amount of
arguments I've had with women

that could have been sorted out
quicker with a punch.

And while we're on the subject
of domestic violence.

It's a horrible thing.
Of course it is...

Now...

you ever met a woman who's,
like, been married like 4 times

and she's like, "I guess I just
choose the wrong type of men"?

"I have been married 4 times
and all my husbands beat me."

And you're like, "All of them? All four?

One, two, three, fucking four?
They all beat you?

Someone doesn't know when to
shut the fuck up, now, do they?"

'Cause I'm a tolerant man.

I'll give anyone 3, but 4?

You're a fucking button-pusher.
Come on?

That's a nice, cheery way to
start the show.

I do a lot of gigs, well not a lot, I do some gigs
out in Iraq and Afghanistan and stuff like that,

which, if I was in an american crowd right
now, they'd go, "Whoo! Yeah, yeah, yeah!"

But I'm not, so I can be honest
with you. I do it for money.

...Um, the first time, over there
it's like I'm king,

The first time I go do a gig in Iraq, they

fly me and my manager in a
passenger plane into Kuwait.

Now it turned out that Kuwait is a
regular country that anyone can visit.

Then,

a military truck gets me and my manager
and drives us over the border into Iraq

and dropped us off.

And we're standing in the middle of
the desert of a war-torn country and

we can't see anything on the horizon.

And I turn to my manager and
go, "Good booking, fuckface."

And then this helicopter
comes in over the horizon

and lands in front of us,

and the blades are still going.

And this soldier runs off and goes,

"Excuse me, are you Jim Jefferies?"

And I went, "What other white cunt
were you looking for in the desert?

at this exact location?"

Then he hands me my bulletproof
vest and my helmet.

He's obviously wearing his
bulletproof vest and his helmet.

His are camouflaged. Mine?

Fucking blue.

And I said, "Why do I have a
blue vest and helmet?"

He said, "That's so the enemy
know you're a civilian."

I'm like, "Does the enemy give
a shit?

That's my main concern,

because I've never been a sniper."

But every time I got off the helicopter,
I was surrounded by soldiers protecting me.

If I was a sniper, I'd be like,

"The cunt in blue looks
important." Right?

We got in this helicopter.

and we're sitting in this chopper. That's
what we call them in the biz "chopper".

And I'm sitting here. And I got 2
soldiers sitting next to me there,

my manager, Brett, sitting there. He's
got 2 soldiers sitting next to him.

There's 2 soldiers in the cockpit.

There's a great big door open
next to me there,

and there's another door opened
there, and at that door

is a soldier with a great
big gun on a hinge

with bullets coming out of it like that thing
that Chewbacca (Star Wars character) wears.

And we take off, and
off we go to Baghdad.

And as we hit the border of the
city, I hear a great big "BANG!"

And these 2 small flares shoot out
from the small wings of the helicopter,

followed by a trail of smoke.

And the helicopter goes,
"Fwwhhh! Fwwhhh! Fwwhhh!"

Now, the reason they do this is,
when they get over the danger area,

if there's a heat-seeking missile,

it'll be distracted by the flares,

and then the helicopter
will fly out of range.

Very clever.
Now...

They never told me,

this was happening.

As far as I'm concerned, the
wings have just exploded.

And we're now plummeting to our death.

But it's nice to know how
you react under pressure.

Because I reacted thusly,
by vomiting over my lovely blue vest,

ironically making it more
camouflage than it was before,

and yelling out, "We're going down!"

The 2 pilots, the sergeants, the gunner,

they all start
pissing themselves, laughing.

They're reaching through.
They're high-fiving each other.

It turned out that they've been
waiting for this joke for months.

I'm cleaning vomit off myself, going,
"Oh, you, that was a good one."

"Thank you for defending my
freedom." Right?

So, I sit back down, covered in
vomit in the helicopter "Ugh."

And so I'm trying to look out the door
to try to un-quease myself.

And I'm looking out over
the ground, over Baghdad.

By the way, Baghdad,
beautiful city, untouched.

And I look out on the ground,

and I see a little arab
fellow with a handgun

shooting up at the helicopter,
just [ Imitates gunshots ].

Once again, I freak out.
"We're being fired on!"

The gunner now is laughing so fucking hard.

He's laughing even harder
than he was before.

He's laughing so hard, he's keeled over.
The gun's just dangling out in the hinge.

And I'm like, "What's your
fucking problem, man?"

And he's like, "Jim, you're gonna
have to calm down, mate.

We're in a military helicopter
with a bulletproof bottom.

That's a handgun.

We're so high up, the bullets can't even
reach us. They just sort of go [ Whistles ]"

And then I jokingly said,

"I bet our bullets can reach him."
And he went, "Oh, yeah." [ Imitates gunfire ]

And the little cunt died.

And, and I was like, "[ sighs ]

I was just saying, mate.

I was just saying.

I didn't want to ruin anyone's day."

Ain't that a fun story about a man dying?

It's funny, though.
My limited time in a war zone,

I really, you know, didn't see what all the
bad stuff was. They were very nice to me.

But this was kind of crazy
to me 'cause I don't know,

historically, how we're
gonna talk about it.

See, like, my grandfather, he fought
during the second world war,

for the japs, weirdly enough.

No, no, for the australians. He killed a
lot of japanese. Hated them 'till he died.

"Love the food, hate the
people." he used to say.

What a complex man. And...

I used to love listening, when
I was a kid, listening to him

tell stories about killing nazis.
There was always something

exciting about it, you know?
I just don't know

what I would tell my grandson about
what's happening in history now.

I imagine I'll be 80 years old,
I'll be sitting in my chair,

and my grandson will be on the
floor, looking up at me adoringly.

And I'll go,

"Now, there used to be
these people called arabs.

And they lived in the middle east,

or, as you call it, the radiation zone.

In 2020, president Macaulay Culkin

got really upset with the arabs,
and he nuked them all.

But what Macaulay Culkin and the
rest of the americans hadn't realized

was that China had slowly but surely
become the superpower of the world.

So, while the americans were nuking the
arabs, the chinese nuked the americans,

and that's why we have
no americans and no arabs."

And then my grandson
will look up at me and go...

You know what I like about that joke?

It has the feel of racism, but
you can't pick the exact moment.

Like, you know it is.
It's definitely racist.

So, let's change the subject quickly.

How do blind people wipe their asses?

I know you're thinking, "The same as us"

but you're not
thinking outside the box,

'cause wiping your ass
is a very visual activity.

No one's ever just leant up, wiped,
then dropped into the bowl.

You wipe. You check.

"There's a lot of poo there.
I'm gonna wipe again.

There's still a lot of poo.

It feels dry, but there's still poo.

I think I left one up there."

I bet that's where the dog comes
in handy.

Ohh! No! No, don't...

I'm not saying the dog licks
the blind person's ass!

I'm saying these are very
intelligent dogs.

They would have worked out
some form of barking system.

So, the blind guy would have the
dog, like, sit in front of him.

Woof, woof, woof

Woof, woof

Woof

They probably worked out
some special

morse code-y bark for when
there's blood in the poo.

No, 'cause they've already been
through a rough time.

They're blind. No need for ass cancer.

Not that blood always means ass cancer.
I suffer from hemorrhoids,

have done since I was 22 years old.

And it's a very young age to get hemorrhoids
but there's a lot of blood involved

If you've never had one, there's a lot
of blood involved in a bad hemorrhoid.

I've had toilet bowls
that look like abortions.

No, I'm not. It's not good.

And the first time, when you're 22 and you
get one, your brain goes to ass cancer.

You're like, "Oh, I got ass cancer,"

because no one ever told you about
hemorrhoids when you're young.

Your dad never sits you down and
goes, "When you get a bit older,

you'll be pushing a poo a little bit hard and
a small portion of your asshole will fall out.

Now... it's nothing to be alarmed about.

It's just part of becoming a man."

So, the first time I got
a hemorrhoid, I didn't

tell anyone 'cause I thought
I was dying, obviously.

And I go to see my doctor, the same doctor
that I've had my whole life, and he makes me

I go, "I got ass cancer."

And he makes me bend over a chair.

And then he gets a rubber glove on, and
he sort of prods around my ass a little bit.

And he goes, "Oh, you've just
got hemorrhoids there."

And I said, "I thought that only happens
to old people and pregnant women."

And he went, "and you".

So, I live in America now,

and I...

People get so entertained by that,
but where else am I gonna put them?

We'll put that away for continuity,
in case they cut the jokes up differently.

There we go. That's a bit of a... 'Cause I
know there's people that are sitting at home, going,

"That beer went like that, then it
went like that, then it went like that."

Fucking nerds.

So, I live in America, and it fucking blows
my mind I live in America now, man.

I coming from Australia and everything, I never thought
I'd sort of go this far with my career or anything.

And I find myself... Now I'm out there
auditioning for major movies and shit, man.

And I still feel retarded
every time I go in there.

Now, the first time I went for an audition,

I'd been in L.A. for like a couple days.

And my agency sent me to this audition

and I went along and I met this
girl in the corridor called Carla.

And I was really nervous,
and she could tell I was nervous.

And she sort of calmed me down
and we had a little bit of a chat

and she was really cute,
and we flirted together and stuff.

And then I went and read the little bit.

And then I went home. And then I got
a call later on that afternoon,

going, "They loved you. You're gonna
come back for a callback."

So I'm like, "Excellent. That's good."

So, I go back for the callback, and when you do callbacks,
often they have you reading with another person.

So, I'm in the room, reading with this girl, and it's
the same girl from the corridor. It's Carla, right?

And we're sort of flirting,
"Hey, from the thing before, ahh."

So we're reading, we have great on-screen
chemistry and all that type of stuff.

Then after the audition, I said,
"Carla, do you have any taxicab numbers?

I got to get to my next audition."
She said, "Where are you tryna get to?"

And I went, "Santa Monica." And she said,
"That's where I'm going. I'll give you a lift."

Now, please note at this stage of
the story I didn't ask for the lift.

We go down to the car.

She gets in.
She unwinds my window.

She looks out and goes,
"Jim, what's your full name?"

And I went, "Jim Jefferies" And she went, "Wait
there." Then she called her mom up and said,

"Hi, mom. It's Carla." I just met a very nice boy at
the audition today, and I'm going to give him a lift.

But in case I get raped or murdered,
his name's Jim Jefferies.

So if you don't hear from me in an hour, assume
something bad has happened and call the cops.

Get it, Jim!"

So I get in.

We got like a 15 Mile drive. I say
fucking nothing for the first 5 miles.

I just look forward.

And eventually I turn to her and go,
"You've just made this rape really awkward."

She fucking freaks out!

She slams her foot on the brakes. She skids
off the highway. She starts slapping at me.

I'm grabbing her wrists. Now I feel
kind of rapey, and I didn't want to.

And it's like, "You offered the lift!

I didn't ask for the fucking lift!

You seem more concerned in
solving this crime than preventing it."

So, I raped her to teach her a
lesson, 'cause...

...how else would she learn?

Now, let's get a little bit
deeper, oh yeah!

I suffer from depression.

I have done my whole life. I've been suicidal
on and off for the last sort of 10 years.

It's something that I sort of deal
with on a day-to-day basis.

My mind don't need antidepressants,
but on the box it says

they don't work if you drink,
so I'm not on any depressives.

Whenever I get depressed and down,
I always feel like a selfish asshole.

For doing it, because it's really
a childish act to be depressed.

Do you realize that we here in the first world
countries Canada, America, Australia, Britain

not Scotland, Wales

You know these major countries,
they're all the good ones.

Do you know we have a higher rate
of suicide than the people of Africa?

Let's just think about that
for a second. Right?

The people in Africa, 1 in 4 of them
are dying from AIDS.

They sit in the grass, just fucking
hot in their own shit.

They walk 5 miles (8 km) to get water
with a fucking jug on their head.

Yet they're happier than you.

You're sitting at home with a fucking pantry full of
food watching fucking X Factor (singing competition)

or "Seven hundred children go: "I am not happy

And you wanna know why you're not happy?

'Cause we were brought up on dreams.

And even when I said that, you're
all silent, because all of you are going,

"Better not fuck with my dreams."

You think dreams are wonderful, don't you?

You think dreams are the great thing
on earth, you gotta have dreams.

You know what happens with dreams? They
don't happen, you fucking [ imitates a punch ]

You know what dreams are like in Africa?

♪ Don't die today, don't die today,
don't die today ♪

That's a real fucking dream.

And I'm as guilty as you, man,
when I was a young comic

all I wanna do was go on stage for
5 minutes and make people laugh.

And then I thought,
"Fuck that, man, you better pay me."

And then they start to pay me. And I went, "I'm better
than these cunts, I better be a head-line act."

Became a head-line act. Then I went to the
Edinburgh Festival, did fucking that.

Then I went, "Alright, I better
do it... go over to America".

When I was in America, I recorded
my DVD in America and then I was

like, "yeah that's too fucking right, now I
wanna be a movie star."

And you know what? I am not a
movie star and I wanna kill myself.

That's retarded. I've gone further

than a man of my looks or intellect
should ever fucking go.

At this fucking moment,
I'm in a sold out theater

in fucking London, in the West End.

This would be a dream of mine as a child.

And you know what I'm gonna do tonight?
Cry myself to sleep.

Because I was taught to dream.

'Cause you never complete your dreams.

You do complete them.

But then what you do?
You put another one on.

And then another one on.

And then, when you die, you'd be on the deathbed
going, "My dream is to see my grandkids again."

And they don't come and
you die fucking miserable.

You're never gonna complete all of them, no one's ever
gone, "Oh, I've got no more dreams left. I'm fucking done."

So, I'm not gonna dream anymore.

Fuck that!

I'm gonna make little tiny achievable
dreams, that I can achieve.

Like, for instance,

I was drunk last night, so my
dream for this evening

is not to shit myself on stage.

Now, it might happen.

It might not happen, but if it does happen,
I'll wash myself off and start again.

Because I'm a dreamer.

But this is not our fault, this is bred into us,
this is in our psyche.

You can't fix things that had
been said to you as a child.

Like when we were in school,

we had school teachers stand in front of
every single one of us

and go, "If you work hard,
and you put your mind to it

you can achieve anything."

You know what that was?

That was a fucking lie.

You can't achieve anything, nobody can,
don't put that pressure on yourself.

Everybody in the world has limitations.

No matter how hard I think about it,
no matter how hard I practice,

never be in the NBA 'cause I'm a fat
white guy, not a tall black guy.

Like, do you remember that
fat fucking dumb ugly kid

who couldn't fucking catch a ball?

You know those kids are like,
like if he was like

one IQ smaller he'd get benefits.

But he's just, he's just on the
border of retardation. Right?

That kid was told he could
achieve anything.

Right?

You know what they should've done with that kid?
They could've going, "Aye Kevin, you fat prick

dig a fucking hole you dumb cunt.

Alright you fuck that up as well but no one
else wants to do it, so you got the gig big boy."

And while I'm at it

if you're a dumb ugly cunt

and your wife or your husband
is a dumb ugly cunt

guess what you're fucking kids are?

Your kids are dumb ugly cunts
just like fucking you.

Except they're fucking super
concentrate dumb ugly cunts.

'Cause they come from both of you
into a bottleneck of fucking retardation.

But you still think they're the
greatest things out there.

You go to their soccer games, "Keep the ball
John, you're doing a good job. He's getting better."

You should fucking lock that thing up.

But it doesn't matter if you're an idiot and
you're stupid and you can't fucking catch a ball

and everything in your life
is retarded, because you know,

you'll always be welcome with God.

God loves this stupid and the fucking...

This is the thing about
people who believe in God,

they're idiots.

There's no dancing around it.

You're a borderline fucking mentalist.

You're an idiot, you're like a 13 year old
kid who still believes in Santa.

"Santa is still gonna give gifts"
Oh fuck you.

You know it...

I don't hate people who believe in God.
I don't hate them. Right?

But I just don't wanna talk to them.
I don't wanna be around them.

It's like how I don't hate
the mentally insane.

Right? But the mentally insane and
religious people are the same fucking bag.

If I'm staying in a bar chatting to either
of them eventually I'll walk away going,

"Okay..."

See...

Do you know that I live in America, so I
have to deal with this all fucking day, OK.

Eighty five percent of americans
believe in God, that's mental.

Here in Britain, it's like 36%.

In Australia it's 27%

I think in Canada, it's like in the 60s.

And in Russia... no one.

Do you wanna know why?
'Cause it's fucking cold.

No one believes in God, so all
the russians they don't get to go to heaven

because they were born
in the wrong country.

Born in the wrong country,
you don't get to go to heaven.

Americans borned in the
right country, hey

you get to go in heaven.
You were born in the right place.

'Cause God's very particular
about where you're born.

Right? So half of you fucking cunts
get to go to heaven 'cause you're british

Few australians get to go.

Then the americans all get to go and
most of the canadians get to fucking go

And then, there's those dumb cunts
in those muslim countries, aye?

They don't even believe in the
right God, they're fucking dead.

They're not going, and what about
those dumb asian fucks? Aye?

With that fat cunt Buddha,
they don't get to go to heaven.

'Cause they've made up
a God that doesn't exist.

And then there's the indians, with
their fucking monkey/elephant God.

What is wrong with them? They must be
retarded, they're believing in the wrong God.

Not us though, we were
born in the right country.

'Cause God selects countries.

That's why they always
say "God bless America".

Because the world's billions of years old.

And America is 250 years old.

And that's when God
decided to chose a team.

You know there's a webpage called "askgod"?

Where children can write questions to God.

And then, through the power of the internet

God will answer them.

I'm a bit dubious, but...

So the most asked question on askgod is

"Were there kangaroos in the ark?"

So

Children can ask any question in the world.

But a child mind works like this,
they go, "I like kangaroos.

I think the ark's story is bullshit,
so Shazam!"

And the answer to that question is,

Although there are no mention
of kangaroos in the Bible

it does state that there
was 2 of each animal.

So you can be assured that
there were kangaroos in the ark.

Now, why's there no mention
of kangaroos in the Bible?

Could it be

that when the Bible was written, Australia
hadn't been found therefor

no mention of kangaroos.

But didn't God create kangaroos?

Isn't the Bible written through the hand
of man, through the voice of God?

Why wouldn't He mentioned the kangaroos?

They're such an exciting animal.

It seems to me that they're only
seem to mention things in the Bible

that are within a 5 miles (8 km)
radius of the guy writing it.

Like, if I was God

at the end of the Bible

I would have lent in and gone,

"Oi, tell them it's round."

'cause... didn't know
the world was round.

Fucking built it, didn't know it was round.

Now,

I dislike religious people.
I didn't say, don't dis... go back.

Now,

the thing is

what I hate about christians is

they start sentences like this,
"As a christian..."

You can't start a sentence like that,

and explain to me that your

rest of your sentence has any more meaning
than the beginning of the sentence.

It means bullshit, that's a little fucking
get out of jail free card shit you do.

Right? 'Cause I can't get in court
and start a sentence like this,

"As an atheist...

I didn't rape her, didn't rape her...

She was, she was giving me a lift"

and

Now,

When I started this show

my first routine

was about how lesbians

were fat, ugly, useless
with no sense of humor.

And you couldn't applaud more.

Then I killed an arab man
from a fucking helicopter.

Just shot him dead.

Then I said that christians are
bullshit and there is no God.

And that's the moment, when half the
audience chose to be offended.

Was that the fucking moment that got you?

How very christian of you towards
the muslims and the lesbians.

Next time, start your sentences with

"Well, as a hypocrite..."

I'll tell you this last thing about you, you think
you're a good person because you have christian values.

Do you wanna know what christian values
are? Christian values are a load of shit.

What are christian values?

The 10 commandments. Well the 10 commandments
are very sensible rules to live your life by.

You know what's a load of shit about them?

The fact that you had to
have them written down.

The fact you couldn't figure out
internally not kill people.

Don't steal. Really?

You should just know these,
This should be internal in you.

The Bible is too wordy. All the story is too wordy.
The 10 commandments are a load of shit.

You don't need all these things.

The Bible should be one sheet of paper.

And on that sheet of paper it should say,

"Try not to be a cunt."

If you do that, every day,
you'd be a good person.

We're tryna sell this show
to the americans. I don't like our chances.

So, let's do something we can all enjoy.

Sometimes when I'm fucking a chick.

I go to fuck them again in the morning,
and they'll say something like this,

"No.

When we fucked last night, it
was a little bit dry,

and now I'm sore."

Now,

to any woman who's said something
similar to this, may I say,

"Your problem.

My job was to get an erection.

Your job was to get your hole wet.

Didn't you get your hole wet?

We both had things to do!"

See...

if I don't get an erection during sex,
I'm called impotent.

But a dry hole is the same
as a flaccid penis.

A dry hole is an impotent hole

and you're not a complete woman and
you should be ashamed of yourself.

But women don't take
responsibility for the dry hole.

If I go to fuck a chick tonight
and I get too drunk, which I will.

And I go to fuck a chick and I don't get
an erection, she'll go back to her friends

and go, "Oh, I went to fuck that Jim
Jefferies. He couldn't get an erection."

But if I go to fuck a chick
and she doesn't get wet,

she'll go back to her friends and go,
"I fucked Jim Jefferies.

He didn't even get me wet."

Do you see the problem there?

I'm in charge of everything.

It's like... I used to fuck this
chick for a while.

I start fucking her,

and she sent me a text, well, you know, I just
stopped calling her, you know, just ignored her.

And she sent me a text message
a month later that went,

"Oh, by the way, you never made me cum."

And I was like, "Pfft, really?

You think you're the one who makes me cum?

Do you want to know who makes me cum?

I make me cum!

All the horrible thoughts I have
in my fucking head makes me cum!

You have very little to do with it.
You're just the container I shoot it into."

But let's go back to the dry cunt.

There are women in the room who are thinking, "Maybe
I wouldn't be dry if there was a bit of foreplay."

Let's explain foreplay.

Foreplay is what we do to each other
to get each other ready for sex.

If I have an erection,

that means I'm ready for sex.

And I'm all foreplayed out.

Now, the foreplay that's necessary
for a woman goes like this:

You got to start by kissing them.

Women love kissing.

Men don't give a shit about kissing.

We kiss you because we like you and
let's be honest, we spoil you.

Men don't give a fuck about kissing.

Used to like kissing when
we were in our early teens.

Then someone sucked our dick.

And then, "What's this kissing thing?

Why am I kissing this person?

Why would I ride on the swings?
I've already been to Disneyland."

But we kiss you 'cause we like you
and we're a charitable bunch.

Then you start kissing down the neck.

Now, the whole time you're doing this,

you're working downwards, towards the cunt.

Now, you know you're going to the cunt.

She knows you're going to the cunt.

Everybody knows...
you're going to the cunt.

But for some unbeknown reason, you have
to act like you're not going to the cunt

and that you're enjoying the
journey of this creature.

Women, you got to give them a journey.

Men don't give a shit about a journey.

If a man's driving from point A to point B,

we fill the tank, we get on the motorway,
we make good time, right?

With women, you got to give them
a fucking journey.

You got to take them by the water
or antiquing or some shit.

See, the thing is women
read so many magazines

about how to send your man wild
and how to titillate your man

and all these 25 steps to do all the...

It's a lot of fucking bullshit.
"Oh, get a feather."

"Involve food in the relationship."

This is all bullshit.
"Play with his nipples."

These things are fucking dead!

They're dead to me! These mean nothing!

You could cut these off and donate them
to some poor african child without nipples!

I wouldn't give a fuck.

This is what we want you to do:

Fucking suck our cock

and cup our balls.

And when you're sucking our cock,

look like you're in a bit of pain

because we enjoy it if
you look uncomfortable.

Anyway, but back to the lady.

You keep kissing down.

Now you're at the tits.

Now, tits are a mixed bag.

Some tits you got to be firm with.
Some tits you got to be soft with.

Some tits, you can bite the nipple.

Some tits, don't even go near the nipple.

Tits are like golf, you play
the course you're on.

Then...

you keep kissing down.

Now you're at the cunt.

But even when you get to the cunt,

you have to act like
you're not at the cunt.

You have to act like you've stumbled
upon the cunt by accident.

So, you'll be kissing, like, a
dimple-Y bit of thigh here,

and the cunt's there.

And you have to sort of almost, "Oh, hello!

I was visiting dimple-y thigh.
I forgot you lived down here.

No, always a pleasure, never a chore.

Do you mind if I pop in?"

Then you lick the whole general cunt area.

Then there's a bit at the top of the cunt,

If you lick that, they seem to enjoy it.

This all takes between 10 and 40 minutes.

And she might be wet.

And that's the foreplay that's
necessary for a woman.

Now, the foreplay that's
necessary for a man

We just need to see you naked.

Maybe you need kisses, caresses,
compliments, and licks,

when all we need is you.

Maybe we take our relationships seriously.

Wasn't that a romantic joke?

That involved the word cunt 15 times.

Alright we have to keep moving this show
'cause I need to have a piss now.

'Cause I've been drinking too much. I always get nervous
before things like this, and so I got hammered in the dressing room.

This is the show,
it's called "Alcoholocaust" and this...

because I'm planning, 'cause to me
that means the death of alcohol.

'Cause I'm planning to stop drinking
after this Edinburgh Festival.

I'm not, you know, I'm not promising.

But I'd like to, this might be the last
DVD I record where I'm drunk.

So the next DVD is gonna suck balls.

The thing is I called this show "Alcoholocaust" and now,

'cause I live in America, some
jewish people have gotten offended.

And I'm like no, it's not like I meant
the Holocaust is getting people drunk.

It's just a funny word.

I tell you what though,
I did a gig in Poland.

and when I was out there, I did a
corporate gig out in Poland.

I went out to Auschwitz.
See, a lot of you

un-educated people, thought it was in
Germany didn't you? Auschwitz is in Poland.

And I went out there

and apart from the "concentration camp-y"
bit in the corner

the rest of it it's delightful.

It's a beautiful little village.

I reckon the tourism board
needs to get together and go,

"Okay, we have a bit of a bad rep.

Has anyone got any ideas?

Hans, give it to me.

Yep, that's true. We do have the biggest
tower of second-hand shoes in the world.

I don't know

I don't know if that's a keeper,

but write it down.

Johan, even though that's
a scandinavian name.

Uh-huh, u-huh, Pizza Festival, you say.

as we can cook 400 pizzas as once."

This bit won't be in the DVD.

It's a funny joke though.

I like living in Britain because my,

my obvious alcohol problem...

isn't a problem here.

Before I came on stage here, my manager,
the last thing he said to me was,

"Do you need another drink?"

That would never happen in America
when I recorded my special in America,

they employed someone

to stands by the bar to make
sure I didn't get wasted.

'Cause americans they don't really drink

like you people (british) drink,

like they think they do.

But they're very into like drinking games.

You people would never
play drinking games. Right?

Whenever like I'm out drinking in America, I always meet
something like a college boy who comes to me and go,

"Hey dude, ever played beer pong?"

And I went like, "What's beer pong?"

"You gotta get a ping pong ball, you gotta throw it in the cup,
if you don't get it in the cup, then you gotta chug your beer."

And I'm like,
"Well, let me just get it straight.

I'm trying to get drunk,

and you're putting
an activity in front of me

that may impede me

from getting to my beverage?"

I said, "They have a drinking game in
England, do you wanna know what it's called?"

Drinking!

And this is how it's played.

What you do is, you have a
drink, then you get another drink.

You have a drink, have a drink, have a drink,
have a drink, have a drink, have a drink.

You do this as fast as you can.

And if you get so drunk that
your friend has to drive you home,

then you fucking win.

How many more do you reckon
there is behind there?

There's a dwarf behind there
mixing me a cocktail.

I am fucking drunk, though.

Alright...

I'm gonna tell you a story.

This story's very long. The first 3 minutes
of this story are very depressing.

Just hitching up my pants.

First 3 minutes of this story are very depressing,
but there is a moment where this story takes flight.

And you have to hang in there with me until this
moment and trust me that the story's gonna get good.

I grew up at No. 3 Turramurra street.

At number 5,

was my 2 best childhood friends,
Andrew and Daniel Connor.

Daniel was born with a disease
called muscular dystrophy.

If you don't know what muscular
dystrophy is, it's a horrible

disease that wastes away at your muscles.

It's the same as Lou Gehrig's
disease or motor neuron disease,

except you're born with it.

You get diagnosed when you're about 6 years old, when
you're not walking right and they put you on crutches.

By the time you're 10,
you're in a wheelchair.

By the time you're 20, you're in
a completely vegetative state.

Most people die before their 25th birthday.

Dan's lived to be 33 years old,

still alive and kicking.

Let me rephrase that,

Still alive.

He's actually died 7 times in his life and
been resuscitated, 7.

And I once asked him, I said,
"Dan, what happens after you die?"

And he said, "Nothing".

So, good luck with your
religion and your faith.

I'll take an actual statistic.

Now, his family had since
moved to Melbourne.

I had moved to Great Britain. I went to do the Melbourne
Comedy Festival. This was about a year ago.

I hadn't seen him in all that time.
His brother Andrew came to see my show,

and then Andrew took me to see Dan.

And I went in to see him and I'd never seen
anyone live this long with this disease.

And he's laying on a bed. His eyelids are a muscle
that he can't keep open anymore, and

he's just squinting through
these little things.

Has a breathing mask on
him to keep his lungs working

because the lungs are a muscle
that he can't keep pumping.

He has a heart-monitoring machine in case

he flat-lines in the middle of the night
and someone has to resuscitate him.

And as soon as I walked in and saw this guy
that I used to run around with as a child,

I burst into tears.

There's nothing worse you can give anyone
in this world than pity, you know?

I went in the corridor.
I felt like a right prick.

And I was fucking wiping my eyes off.

And I went back in,

and I sat with Dan, and his
brother Andrew went off to work.

And me and Dan chatted for a while.

Twenty minutes into the
conversation, Dan says to me,

"Jim, I'm 32 years old.

I've never been with a woman.

Will you take me to a prostitute?"

And that's where the story
picks up, ladies and gentlemen,

'cause I went, "Fuck, yeah!"

And he went, "But don't tell my brother. He wouldn't
understand." And I said, "That's where you're wrong.

I've known your brother my entire life.

Trust me, he will understand."

And against Dan's will, when Andrew came home
from work, I pulled Andrew aside and said,

"Andrew, look, here's the deal.
Dan's asked me to take him to a prostitute.

I'm gonna do it whether you like it or not,

but I think, as his brother, you should
come along and help out."

And Andrew went, "We're not doing it."

And I went, "Why?"
And he went, "It'll kill him."

And I went [ Exhales heavily ]

"He's gonna die soon anyway.

This is a good way for him to go.

Like, sure, we'll have to
answer a few questions."

And he said, "We're not doing it." And I said, "Why?"
And he goes, "'Cause mom doesn't like you already!"

And I went, "Your mom's never liked me!

That's why I'm the right guy
to kill your brother!"

And he said, "All right, we'll do it, but he
can't have full sex. Full sex will kill him.

He can only have a blowjob."
And I thought that was fairly reasonable.

So, we went back in and saw Dan.
He was where we left him.

And we said...

"Dan,

here's the deal. I know you told me not to
tell your brother, but I told your brother.

Me and him are both gonna take
you to the knock shop tomorrow, mate,

but you can't have full sex.
You can only have a blowjob."

And Dan went, "I want full sex."

And his brother Andrew went, "Dan, you're
in no position to argue with anyone, ever."

Then Dan reluctantly agreed.

Now, prostitution in Australia is legal,

so I spent the rest of the afternoon going through the
phone book, trying to find a brothel with wheelchair access.

Best afternoon ever!

Eventually, I found one, the biggest brothel
in the southern hemisphere, the Daily Planet,

or, as the Australians call it,
"Four floors of whores."

It's a 24-hour brothel because
Australia's a go-ahead country.

So, we decided we were gonna go early in
the morning, like really early, like 6:00 A.M.

We wanted to go in when the place was
quiet and we weren't gonna cause a scene.

So, we wake him up at 6:00 in the morning.

It's hard to tell if he's awake.

And...

we get him in his chair. Now, he hasn't
got your bog-standard fucking wheelchair.

He's got one of those big sort of silver
looking things with the truck tires on it.

I think the model's called a hawking.

And...

even though his muscles don't work,

they get sore. So, this thing can
move him from side to side

and back to front and even into a full bed.

So, we get him in the chair.
Then we order a taxi.

And then, it's not like you have black cabs
out there, it's like a normal car,

but they've modified the back to go higher,

and they drive him up through the boot
and they strap him in there.

And he sits up high,
with windows all around him,

like a big, retarded pope.

Or, as the catholics would say, the pope.

And we drive up to the brothel.

Now, when we get to the brothel, it takes
10 minutes to get him off the taxi.

I see this as my window of opportunity,

so while they're getting him off
the taxi, I run into the brothel.

Now, there's 2 ways the brothels work.

Either the prostitutes will stand in a row in their
lingerie and you just pick the one that you want,

or they'll stand around in a bar
in evening gowns and high heels

and you walk up to the one that you
like the look of, chat to her for a bit,

act like you've got some type of
connection with an eastern european woman,

then take her upstairs and fuck her if
you need your life to be this delusional.

This is one of these situations. So, while they're getting
Dan out of the cab, I run into the brothel and go,

"Everyone, quickly, gather 'round!

I haven't got much time!"

And these 14 bemused hookers
shuffle over, and I went,

"Look, here's the deal.

I have a severely disabled friend with me.

If you're not up for it, speak now
or forever hold your peace."

And one of them went, "How bad is he?"
And I went,

"Pretty fucking bad."

And 10 of them said they wouldn't do it,
and I said, "Well, I respect that,

but can you please go and hide? Because I
don't want him to be rejected by hookers."

And these 10 girls shuffle away in their
evening gowns and their high heels,

with gonorrhea (STD) falling out of them.

I'm now left with 4 girls. The best
looking one by a mile stays.

Dan wheels in, looking like Jabba the Hut,
breathing like Darth Vader.

Two of the girls run away, and I'm like,
"Are you fucking kidding, you sluts?

I just asked you nicely."

So we're now left with 2 girls.

The best-looking one's there.
The other one's a fucking troll.

Now, out of respect for the ugly one,

I go to Dan and go, "Dan,

there's only 2 girls working today, mate.

Which one do you want?"

And he said, "The one in the green dress."

Now,

neither of them had a green dress.

I stand up and look at Andrew and went,
"What the fuck is all this about?"

And Andrew went, "Oh, yeah,
his eyes are fucked, as well."

Now, it turns out that Dan's colorblind.
It's not part of the condition. It's just unfortunate.

So... I sat with the hooker.

Now, I'm gonna pay for everything.

Now, the reason I'm gonna
pay for everything is simple.

I told Dan and Andrew,

that I would pay for everything,

as long as I got to tell this story to
hundreds of thousands of people in the future.

And they said, "Of course you can, Jim,

but be respectful and change our names."

Which sounds like the right
thing to do, now, doesn't it?

Now, I haven't changed their names.

Their names are Andrew and Daniel Connor
from St Kilda, Melbourne, Australia.

I would have liked to have changed their
names. It is the right thing to do.

But I look at this way,

Even if I changed their names and their
parents started watching my comedy,

they'd be like, "My word, doesn't 'Randy'
and 'Steve' sound like our kids?

Didn't Jim grow up with a lot of
people with muscular dystrophy?"

So, I sat there with the hooker, and
I said, "How much for the half-hour?"

And she said, "$180."
And I said, "I'll give you $250

'cause I realize this is a
specialty thing you're doing."

And she goes, "I got one question for you"
and I said, "Shoot," and she went...

"Is he mentally retarded?"

And I went...

"Oh, yeah.

That's what I do.

I find mentally retarded people
and take them to prostitutes.

I'll be masturbating in the corner.

He doesn't even know he's here."

And she went, "Okay, then,
but if there's 2 of you..."

"No, he's not mentally retarded!

It's his choice to come here!
There's a good chance he'll die!"

And she went, "What am I meant
to do with him?" And I went, "I don't know.

I've never been a hooker.

But I'm thinking give him a bit of a show.

Dance it around a bit.
Rub your tits in his face.

Then suck him off.

But don't sit on him or fuck him.

It'll kill him."

So, we go up to the room, which,
thank god, was on the first floor.

And me and Andrew look at Dan like 2 proud parents,
watching our child go to school for the first time.

And then we leave. And as we proceed
to leave, I pat Andrew on the back,

and I said "Andrew, you've been
a good brother today."

He said, "Thanks, mate."
Then we had a hug.

Then we had that moment after our hug
that australian men have, where we go,

"Ah, get out of here. What's wrong with ya?"

And then I said, "Hey, Andrew,

how does Dan get his clothes off?"

And Andrew went... "Fuck!"

And we went back in.

Andrew looks him up and down,
and he turns to me and goes, "Look,

he's very fragile.

I know how he likes to be picked up.

I'll lift him up. You take his pants off."

Andrew gets behind, lifts him up by his armpits,
like I couldn't have figured out their magical hold.

I'm on my knees taking
Dan's track-suit pants off.

He always wore track-suit pants,
never got into fashion.

And as I'm taking his track-suit pants off,
what many of you are wondering is,

"Can Dan get an erection?"

And the answer is, "Yes".

Even though none of the muscles in his body work, the cock
is not a muscle. The cock is a bit of skin that fills with blood.

If he gets aroused up here,
blood will rush to there.

Now, what nobody knew

about this 32 year old virgin

is that Dan's packing heat!

I'm talking 9 and 1/2 inches (24 cm)
of disabled misery.

This cock's so fucking big, I think that's
why the rest of his muscles didn't work.

I take the pants off. This thing
springs up and hits me in the mouth.

Then the hooker goes,
"Let's do the light."

Let's explain the light.

When they legalized prostitution in Australia,
they didn't legalize it in all forms.

For instance, you can't get a street walking hooker.
You can't get a prostitute to your hotel room.

You can only go to a brothel, in a safe
environment, where they have security

for the girls in case a man shows up
being a drunken dickhead or whatever.

And also it's safer for the
people that go to brothels

because the girls get tested
for STDs every month.

So, arguably,

you're better off in Australia
fucking a prostitute

than picking up a girl in a bar.

But I'm not gonna have that
conversation again.

All my... You try explaining that
to a girlfriend. It's a fucking minefield.

But also they make it safe for the girls.

If you're a guy who goes to a prostitute,
you have to undergo the light.

Let's explain the light. It's very simple.
It sounds like what it is.

You put your cock

under a very bright light,

and they look around the shaft

to see if there's anything untoward.

Then they get a magnifying glass out,

go through your pubes to make
sure nothing's running around.

It's not a big deal.
I've been rejected heaps of times.

Now, the chair's here.
There's a bed here.

There's a hot tub there.

The light's over there.

Now, we try to get the chair
past the bed and the hot tub,

but we can't get it through.

So, me and Andrew walk over to
the hooker, and we're whispering

'cause we don't want Dan to hear we're
like, "Um...we can't do the light thing."

And she goes, "If you don't
do the light, I'm not doing it."

And me and Andrew went, "Aw.

Come on.

He's a virgin.
What's the worst that could happen?"

And she whispered, "Actually, I'm more
concerned about his cleanliness."

And then his brother Andrew
said loudly and proudly,

"I washed it before we came out!"

Now, you may think you're a good
brother, good sister, good mother,

good daughter, whatever the
fuck you think you are in this world,

but you're nothing until you've washed your disabled
brother's cock to take him to a prostitute!

That is love, ladies and gentlemen.
Tangible fucking love.

So, we looked at Dan.
Everyone agreed it was time to go.

We looked at Dan.

Me and Andrew looked at him and we went,

"We're going now, mate.

If you got anything you want
to say to us, say it now, 'cause,

uh, we're gonna leave, mate."

And this is what Dan did.

[ Imitates wheelchair whirring ]

"Leave!"

So,

me and Andrew went back down to the bar,
and we hanged outwith the hookers.

There was like 10 of them sort
of mulling around there.

We're standing there.

We don't know what Dan's up to, but we're
standing around the bar with all the hookers.

And then 5 guys from
London walk into the bar,

who are obviously out of
their fucking skulls on coke.

Now, if you've never taken a
lot of coke, and I've [ mumbles ]

If anyone's got any...
[ mumbles ]

Now, if you've never taken coke,
you don't...

When like 5 or 6 guys get together
and take coke on, like, a tuesday,

there comes a point at about 6:00 in
the morning when they go,

"We better call up some chicks, maybe..."
And you call up ex-girlfriends, like,

"Bring some friends, bring some friends."
And it's like...

I don't know what you're expecting.

So, basically, this..., I think
it was a wednesday we did this,

and I think these guys had
been on coke all night.

And they've obviously gone, "All right, let's go down the brothel.
We'll go down the brothel. It'll be fun. We'll go down the brothel."

And...

I'm standing at the bar, chatting with all the
hookers, and these 5 guys from London walk in,

and one of them recognizes me and goes,

"Jim fucking Jefferies,
Jim fucking Jefferies.

I know you, mate. I know you, you're the comedian
The 'spaz approved' guy, australian comedian."

And I went, "Hey, how you doing, man?"
He goes, "Hey, Jim, Jim, Jim, Jim, Jim...

want a line of coke?"

And I went,

"Yes."

And I went up to the toilet
and did a line of coke.

And I come back out, and, obviously,
I've left Andrew alone for too long,

and he's sort of panicking all by himself.
And I sort of walk in, like...

"What's wrong?"

And he goes, "What if we've
done the wrong thing here?

What if he's in there dying right now? What if he
stopped fucking breathing or WTF Or his heart stopped?

What the fuck are we meant to do?"

I said, "Uh, not a problem,
not a problem. Um...

I'll resuscitate him."

And he said, "Do you know how to do that?"
And I said,

"No, I don't, but how hard
could it be? Push, push, blow, blow."

I haven't embellished that in the slightest.
That's the exact thing I said to him.

"Push, push, blow, blow."

Then the prostitute walks back
in the room, who was with Dan.

So, I'm standing with the 5 coke
fiends, 10 prostitutes.

She walks in the room. It's like
that moment in a movie

where the needle on the record just
sort of goes... [ imitates record scratching ]

and everything stopped.

And she walked in, and she said,

"Well...it's over."

And me and Andrew, in unison, went,

"Is he dead?"

And her exact words were,

"Oh, I didn't check that."

So...

me, Andrew, the 5 coke
fiends, the 10 hookers,

we all run to the room. Now, he's not dead!
His chair's back in the upright position.

His cock is still sitting up, majestically,

covered in jizz and spit.

But for a man who an hour ago couldn't lift
his eyelids, he was sitting there like this.

Now, you might be wondering why
his eyelids were up like that.

Let me explain something.
It wasn't through happiness.

Tell you something about myself.
I'm 33 years old.

I've been masturbating
since I was 10 years old.

And in that time, I have not missed a day.

Every single day, I masturbate.
Haven't missed a fucking day.

Every day, I'm in a hotel room

with a laptop way high up on my chest here,

so I don't have to look at the filth
I'm doing to myself.

So, I'm watching porn here.

And 9 times out of 10, I hit the
apple sign, right?

and I do this every single fucking day.

Yet I would be mortified if any one of you
was to ever see me doing this.

I would want to fucking kill myself.

And I do this every single fucking day.

Now, imagine if you've never ejaculated
through the power of yourself,

you've never had another person do it,
you're 32 years old,

and for the first time you've shot a load of
fucking stale jizz all over the fucking room

and you're sitting there with your cock out

and 15 strangers walks in

and you do not possess the power
to put your cock away.

Can you see how that might
be a bit unhinging?

So, we had to get him dressed quickly.

But there's cum everywhere.

And this time, I look him up and
down.

And I turned to Andrew and said,

"Andrew, I don't give a fuck how
fragile he is.

I'm taking the top half this time."

And we lifted him up...

and we put his pants on

and we proceeded to leave the brothel.

Now, as we left the brothel,

I turned to Dan. I said, "Dan,

I paid for a story.

Please tell me what happened."

And he said,

"Well, she danced around a bit,
rubbed her tits in my face,

and sucked me off."

which is what I asked her to do.
It's so nice to be a disabled sex puppeteer.

But even nicer than that, I used to have a
preconceived notion on what I thought about

people, such as prostitutes, man.

But I was wrong.

That woman treated him
with dignity and respect.

and made him feel like a sexual being
for the only time in his life.

You can't put a price on that.

Alright?

Well, $180 is the...

the exact, the exact figure.

Then we go out front,

and we go to call a taxi,

and the taxi driver who drove us there

is still sitting out the front in his car.

And he winds his window down and
looks out and goes,

"I'll drive you home for free. I just
need to know what happened."

Thank you very much,
ladies and gentlemen. Good night.