All language subtitles for Jim Jefferies - 2012 - fully functional ENG

Hey.

Hello.

Hi.

That was...
That was very nice.

All right,
let's start with a joke.

Every time I sneeze,

some asshole
in the room goes,

"do you know
the sensation of a sneeze

is 1/8 of an orgasm?"

I don't know
if you've heard this myth,

but that's what people say.

That's why
when I'm fucking a chick,

I keep a bit of pepper
on the bedside table.

And as I'm coming,

I Chuck it in her face.

'Cause she deserves
something.

Well...

Thank you.

I used to, for a while,

date Michael Phelps'
ex-girlfriend,

and that sounds like a joke,
but it's true.

I dated Michael Phelps'
ex-girlfriend.

And I'll tell you something

about fucking Michael Phelps'
ex-girlfriend.

You put no effort in,

'cause no matter how good
you think you're fucking her,

you're not fucking her
as good

as the greatest olympian
that's ever lived.

This guy's 6'8",
has size 20 feet,

and holds his breath
for a living, right?

He burns 10,000 calories
a day.

You know, he's just fucking her
and drinking red bull

and eating chocolate bars,

and I'm there coughing
cigarette phlegm up

on her back.

And she always used Mike
against me.

I call him Mike now.

She'd go,
"Mike bought me this handbag.

Mike bought me these shoes."

And I'd be like,
"Mike looks like

"he has down syndrome.

Why don't you ever
mention that?"

And we don't know
for sure

that I'm not
a better swimmer.

I've never timed myself.

When I get in the pool,
it's for pleasure,

not to show off
in "competition".

Okay? I can tell you,
if I ever finish a lap

of an olympic-sized pool,

I'll be really,
really tired.

And you can only assume
from that

that I've been going
extraordinarily fast.

"Mike took me here.
Mike took me there."

"Mike cheated on you
with miss california,

and I could never do that
to you."

It's not that I wouldn't.

I just couldn't.
It's miss california.

That bitch has gotta be
fucking tasty, eh?

Like... like,
I'm on the TV a bit.

I'm a minor celebrity.
I could fuck, like...

Miss Delaware
is coming to mind.

I don't even know
where Delaware is,

but she sounds fucking ugly,
miss Delaware, doesn't she?

But I've got
a girlfriend now.

She's in the...
She's in the room.

Uh, I got a girlfriend.

She's moved into the house.
A serious relationship.

I-I'll tell you
what I've been doing

with the last 12 years
of my life.

For the last 12 years
of my life,

I've been traveling
around the world,

having sex
with random women.

And my girlfriend
has taught me

that that's a really sad way
to live your life

and kind of depressing.

And it's weird, you know,

'cause it felt like fun.

I, uh...

I remember a lot of smiling
back in the day.

I have vivid memories
of high-fiving a lot.

I, uh...

But thank god
she's come along...

To tell me
that I was mistaken.

Maybe you might be asking,
why would I want

to settle down?

And I'm at the age now, 35,

where I'm thinking
of the future.

I would like to be
a father one day.

I think I would be
a great dad, I really do.

I just don't think
I'd be a good husband,

and there's a problem.

Uh, 'cause you can't just,
like, meet a woman,

marry her,
get her pregnant,

she has the child,
and then you divorce her

in the first year.

That's automatic
bad dad territory.

It doesn't matter
how many ball games

you take
the little cunt to,

you're a bad fucking dad.

So I think
the only way out for me

is to, like,
meet a woman,

marry her,
get her pregnant,

she has the child,

and then if she could die,

that... that would really
help me out.

'Cause... 'Cause your kid
couldn't hate you then,

because "I'm doing my best!
Your mum's dead!"

You know?

But I've looked into it,
and...

Not as easy
as you might think.

It turns out
that terminally ill women

don't want to get pregnant.

They're all about them
and what they're up to

and their issues,
you know?

The terminally ill are
very fucking high maintenance,

if you ask me, so...

I need to find a woman
who doesn't know she's dying,

and that's a whole new set
of complications.

So I need to befriend
a doctor.

That doctor will have,
like, a cancerous woman

come into his office,
and he'll be like,

"oh, you're fine.
Get outta here.

"You're wasting my time.

Congratulations
on the weight loss."

Then...

He'll ring me up and go,
"I've got one!"

And I'll be like, "yay!"

And then I'll give him a couple
of free tickets to a show.

We'd call it even.

Then I'd meet the girl,
appear really charming,

I'd get her married,

I'd get her pregnant,

she'd have the child,

and then if she could die,

that would get me
out of a bind.

Like, I don't want her to die
during childbirth.

I'm not a fucking animal,
you know?

Like...
Like a few years later,

after the kid
could walk, and talk,

and wipe its own ass,
and open the fridge,

and take care of itself
to a certain extent.

And I'm thinking
I want a daughter.

I think that would suit me,

to have a little
three-year-old daughter, eliza.

I've already named her.

So picture me,
Jim jefferies,

with little eliza,
struggling through life, eh?

Just the two of us.
The mum's fucking dead.

She's long gone.
It's just the two of us.

I do what I can.

I take her on the road
with me because

I can't leave her with anyone.

She's all I've got left.

I'm fucking adorable.

There isn't a woman
in this room

that doesn't want
to suck that guy's cock.

That's about as sexy as I get,
with a dead fucking wife,

raising a little girl.

And I would play that card
every single day as well.

I-I'd be, like, in a diner
with little eliza,

and as the hot waitress
walked by, I'd go,

"no, mummy's never
coming back."

And then when the waitress
came up, I'd go,

"no, no, no. Nothing for me.
Thank you so much.

"But I think someone might like
an ice cream sundae.

"It's her first birthday
without her mother.

"No, no, no.
No, it's okay.

"We're... we're okay.

"Sometimes...

I think
she takes care of me."

You know what'd be happening
later on that evening?

I'd be getting
my dick sucked

and a free sundae.

And I'd raise that kid
good too.

No fucking around.

Raise that kid the same way
that I was raised.

I'd beat the fuck
out of it.

My mother broke
both my brother's legs.

Not both my brothers.

One brother.

Both his fucking legs.

Scotty was
under the bed going,

"I don't want
to go to school,"

and mum's going,
"get out right now.

You're going to school,"
and he was like,

"no, I'm not.
You can't make me."

And she went, "you don't think
I can make you?"

And then Scott went,
"fuck off!"

Now, Gunther
wasn't taking that.

She reached under,
grabbed him by the shirt,

pulled him backwards,

yanked him upwards,
so his shins shattered

against the bed frame
and the floor.

Now, on the upside,

didn't go to school
that day.

Got a couple of extra days off
to relax.

Fucking soft.
You're soft people.

I'm telling you.

You know, this k...
This self-esteem

and giving every child
a fucking medal

if it runs a race,
and it...

There are two fucking lots

winners and fucking losers,
right?

You might not be
a winner at everything.

You might not be
a loser at everything.

But you won't find out
what the fuck you're good at

if they tell you you're
fucking good at everything.

Right?

See, you here in america

are the most powerful country
that's ever been.

You're coming number 27
in education,

and that's disgusting,
right?

But you're coming number one
in confidence.

So you're breeding
stupid, confident people.

They're the worst employees
in the fucking world.

All right? So this whole
"we're number one"

should call it
a fucking day, america.

China's coming to get ya.

And you can't stop
China, mate,

'cause they're number one
in education,

and they're the bottom
of the list in confidence.

Their entire society
rotates around honor,

respect, dignity.

"Do your homework.
Learn your fucking violin."

So who do you want
putting your car together?

A little, nervous Asian fellow
with a drill going...

Or this guy...

"Perfect."

'Cause you can't compete
with the asians.

It's not that they're smarter.
They're not smarter.

Their infrastructure
is infinitely better.

The asians do something
that we don't do.

They acknowledge stupidity.

If you have a classroom
of american children,

little Johnny isn't keeping up
with the other kids,

what do you do?

"Come on, Johnny.
You can catch up.

We believe in you."

What do you think
they do in China

when fucking meiping
isn't toeing the line, eh?

"Get out of the way,
you dumb cunt.

"Don't talk to the smart kids.
You're weighing them down.

"Go over there
and make some shoes

and help our economy,
but leave them alone."

You don't acknowledge stupidity,
and I can fucking prove it.

We have 1,000 people
in the room.

By a show of hands...

Don't do it ironically.

Don't do this sarcastically.

Only do this
if you truly believe it.

Put up your hand
if you truly believe

you have a stupid child
at home.

None of you!

Well, guess what?

It's statistically
higher than that!

But your child isn't stupid.

Not your child.

Your child has
a learning difficulty.

That's the definition
of stupid.

If you have difficulty...

Learning...

That's what stupid is!

If you find it hard
to put information

in your head

and recall it
when you need it,

that's textbook stupid.

And there's nothing wrong
with being stupid.

I'll take a nice idiot
over a smart asshole

any fucking day of the week,
ladies and gentlemen.

But let's just acknowledge
these people.

You know, now I've given you
a good point,

many of you are thinking,

"maybe our kid
is a dumb cunt."

You're picturing him
in his little league game.

He's in the outfield,
digging a hole with a stick.

I've told you before
in one of my other DVDs,

but this is how you find out
if your kid's a dumb cunt,

all right?

Are you a dumb cunt?

Is your wife or your husband
a dumb cunt?

Guess what your kids are.

Your kids are dumb cunts,
just like you,

except they'll achieve
even less.

Now, don't be upset
by this information,

if you're indeed a dumb cunt,
with your dumb cunt spouse,

and your dumb cunt kids,
and your dumb cunt family,

with your dumb cunt friends,

'cause society's very
accommodating to dumb cunts.

In fact, there are places

where you and your
dumb cunt family

can go once a week and meet
other dumb cunt families

and you can sing songs.

And it's called the church,

and they've never turned away
a group of dumb cunts.

The church
loves dumb cunts.

Doesn't like the smart,

what with their
constant questions.

The smart are always
asking questions,

and that's like fucking cancer
to religion.

See, I became an atheist
when I was 15 years old.

I remember
there was an exact moment.

I was digging a hole
with a stick, and I...

Now, if you've just recently
become an atheist,

try to be cool
about it, right?

'Cause, especially
in this country,

people use atheism almost like
its own religion.

Right?

'Cause when you become
an atheist,

you're very angry
because you... you've been fed

so many lies
that you become angry.

Right? So try to be
what I call a good atheist.

I used to be
a bad atheist, right?

I, like, for example,

I didn't go
to a friend's wedding once

'cause it was in a church,

'cause I "wouldn't set foot
in a church," right?

And then, like,
I couldn't go to parties,

'cause I'd always end up
in a corner

with a Christian, going,
"you're a fucking idiot," right?

And that's no way
to live your life, you know?

So you know what?

You gotta live
and let live in this world.

Have the magic man.
Don't have the magic man.

I don't give a fuck.

And since I have
this new sunny disposition...

My life's
really turned around.

I got more friends.
I tolerate others.

I'm now a godfather
to three children,

and that's retarded.

'Cause these people
know me,

and they still fucking ask.

They still come up
and go, "Jim,

will you be
the child's godfather?"

And I'm like...

"Yes."

And then I stand there
in church

with the priest
and the parents,

and the priest
is holding the baby,

and the priest turns to me
and goes, "Jim,

"will you spiritually guide
this child

throughout its life?"

"Sure."

'Cause I have no problems
lying in church.

What difference
does it make?

Now, there are two reasons
why babies are christened.

Right?
There's the real reason,

which is the church
are trying to recruit people

who can't talk.

Then there's the second reason,
the Bible's reasons,

god's reasons.

This is why god wants you
to christen your child.

Because if you don't
christen your child,

and it dies in infancy,

it doesn't get into heaven.

Awww.

So if you are religious,

your god sounds like
a super guy,

but if he lets
one dead baby into heaven,

then he has to let
all the dead babies into heaven.

And before you know it,
heaven's just filled

with fucking dead babies.

Won't be able to move
for dead babies!

And let's not act like
these babies didn't know

what they did.

Now...

It's not lost on me

that when I tell a joke
like that

in front of
this many people,

that in this room,
there's a good chance

that there's a couple who lost
their child in infancy.

And I'm a comedian.
I'm meant to make you laugh.

And I've just reminded you
of the most horrible thing

that ever happened to you,

and for that I am sorry.

But if you weren't
smart enough

to get a pedophile
in a dress

to put a small amount of water
on the child's forehead,

what the fuck did you think
was gonna happen, right?

And as far
as I'm concerned,

you're bad parents,

and that's why god
took your child away from you.

Because I think we all know

that god makes
no mistakes, so...

Maybe you did.

It's weird, you know?

I feel a tension
in the room now.

People are still...

I like it.
I prefer it to laughter.

I'm used to that.

I like this weird feeling.

Because you all know
what I do.

You've seen my specials.
You bought a ticket.

And fucking people
still get shocked.

Right?
I mean, the thing is,

it's not my fans
that get shocked or upset.

They know
what's fucking happening.

The problem
with these shows, though,

is that people come
in groups.

And there's some guy here
who's a big fan of mine,

and he said to six
of his friends,

"you gotta see this guy.

We're gonna have
a great fucking night."

And at this stage of the show,
he's going,

"oh, no.

"Aww, Karen's here.

"Karen fucking loves god.

I'm never gonna
fuck Karen."

Then afterwards,
I'll be outside having a drink

at one of the bars
around the place,

and afterwards,
Karen will see me,

and she'll walk up to me
with a smile like this.

She comes up...

And then,
when she gets really close,

she'll go,
"you're a fucking asshole!"

And I'll be like, "oh, no,
you don't want a photo."

Right?

And then her fr... her friends
will sort of drag her away,

and as she's being
dragged away,

she'll yell
something out like,

"god loves you!
Jesus loves you!"

Some bullshit like that.

Because christians
have this belief

that there's a man on a cloud
that loves them.

Let's say he exists.

He doesn't fucking love you.

I've heard christians say
that my god

loves me unconditionally.

No such thing
as unconditional love.

That's a load
of fucking bullshit.

My mum always throws
that one out there.

My mum always goes,
"Jim, I love you no matter what.

I love you
unconditionally."

And I always think
to myself,

what if I cut
one of her tits off?

What if... what if
I just got a rusty blade

and started hacking
into that obese woman's breasts?

And, like,
would she still love me?

She might.
I'm not willing to test it.

But I can tell you
for sure...

I can tell you for sure

that god does not love you
unconditionally.

I have already given you
a condition.

If you don't put
a small amount of water

on a baby's forehead,

it burns for eternity.

That's a condition
of a fucking psychopath.

Like, if god showed up
at a party,

he'd be the least-welcome person
in party history.

Right? Everyone would be
having a good time,

then someone would go,
"don't look up."

"Oh, no.

"God's here.

"Hey, god.
How are you going?

We didn't know
you were gonna be here."

"Yeah, well, I'm fucking
everywhere, aren't I?

So why the fuck
wouldn't I be here?"

"Well, god, it's really great
to have you here.

We're really happy
you're here."

Then god's like,
"everyone!

"Everyone!

"Could everyone please
be quiet

"and look at me right now?

"I've come down
to tell all of you

"I want you all to know

that I love all of you
unconditionally."

And they're like,

"thanks for that, god.
We really appreciate that."

And they go back to their party,
and then god goes,

"is that all
you have to say?"

"Sorry, god?"

"I just said I love you."

"Oh, fucking shit.
Yeah, um...

We love you too."

"Good, good, good.

"'Cause you know
if you don't,

you'll fucking burn,
right?"

"Yes, god, we...
We really love you.

We really love you."

"Do you love
any other gods?"

"No, we don't.
We really don't."

"Okay, cool.

"Sorry, everyone.
I'm sorry.

I've had too much to drink.
I'm sorry."

And then they go back
to their party,

and obviously god's not getting
enough attention.

He pipes up again,

"everybody,
one last thing.

"I know you all said
you love me,

"and that's really cool
of you.

"I want you to do
one more thing for me now.

"I want to point out

"that you won't burn
if you don't do this,

"but it would go a long way
not to burning,

"if you get
my fucking drift.

"All right?
It would be really great...

If you could all
sing songs about me."

And they're like,

"sorry, god?"

"I made the fucking world!
Just sing a fucking song!

What's the problem?"

And they're like, "yeah.

"Yeah, we can do this,
can't we, gang?

Let's sing some songs
for god."

And they start singing
some gospel music,

and to begin with,
god's fucking digging it.

He's just...

'Cause let's not forget
that god's a white guy.

Then halfway through the song,
god starts to turn.

"Everyone stop singing.

Who's the guy in the pink shirt
who's enjoying singing?"

"Oh.

Oh, oh, that's Brian
and his boyfr..."

"You know I hate faggots!"

"But, god, god, god.
Calm down. Calm down.

You just said
you love everyone."

"Not faggots, I didn't!"

And then people are trying
to calm him down.

He's like, "don't you
fucking touch me!

Don't touch me,
you faggot-lover!"

And they're like,
"god, it's probably best

you just leave this party."

"You're all gonna fucking burn.
All you fucking cunts."

And he goes outside,

and he's trying
to calm himself down.

"I fucking hate faggots.

"I couldn't be clearer
about this.

"It's in my book,
for fuck's sake.

"Everyone's got the book.
No one's fucking read the book.

Everyone's got the book."

Then he passes, like,
a young couple holding hands.

He's like, "hey, how you doing?
You see that tree?

"I fucking made that shit.

"Hey, wait.

"Wait.

"Are you two married?

"No?

"Well,
don't fuck each other.

"I hate young people fucking,
and I hate faggots.

"I also hate people
eating shrimp.

"I mention that eight times
in my book,

"where I only mention twice
that I hate homosexuals.

"But people seem
to really enjoy eating shrimp,

"so I've forgotten
about that rule,

but I'm still very certain
I hate faggots."

And everyone's like,

"I'm so happy to have him
in my life,

this constant glow I have
in my heart."

My pet hate
when I'm onstage...

It doesn't really matter
too much in this show

because it's being filmed...

But I hate it

when people have
their camera phone up

and they're videotaping my show
when I'm doing a gig.

For two reasons.

It sounds silly,
but the first reason's simple.

They're my jokes,

and I don't want you
putting them on the Internet

before I get to record them
on a special.

Second reason is I'm not
in charge of the editing.

You know how easy it would be
to edit that last routine

down to, "I hate faggots!"

And then... and then I would be
getting interviewed,

and someone would go,

"Jim, why do you hate
homosexuals so much?"

And I'd be like,
"I don't hate homosexuals."

And then they'd show me
the clip, and I'd be like,

"oh, no.

"Awww.

"What you don't understand
is...

I was god at the time.

God doesn't like
homosexuals."

And I don't hate gay people.
I'm pro-gay people, man.

I-I protested
for gay marriage.

I believe very strongly
in gay marriage.

I-I believe
if you're a person

who's watching
this special right now

and you don't believe
in gay marriage, turn it off.

You're a fucking dick,

and I don't want anything
to do with you.

Now...

And...

My reasoning
is so simple, right?

If you don't believe
in gay marriage,

you're a dickhead
because...

It's got nothing
to fucking do with you.

Right? Doesn't matter.

It doesn't matter
who loves who

or who wants to be
with who.

It's none of your
fucking business.

None of your
fucking business.

If you hate gay marriage,
you know what you should do?

Don't marry a gay person.

That'll be your little way
of getting around it.

That'll fucking show
the gays, eh?

I'd like to be gay.

It'd fucking suit me.

I'm this cl...

I studied musical theater
at university.

I'm wearing leather
without a shirt underneath.

I would love to be gay.

I tell you why.
'Cause I'm a man's man.

I like men.
Men like me.

We like each other.

I hate women.

Women hate me.

We hate each other.

The only reason
I couldn't be gay

is 'cause I could never
fuck a man.

'Cause I could never
fuck something that I respect.

That's a good fucking joke, eh?
That's a good joke.

You know what?
That joke...

That joke's what I call
an awkward car ride home.

You know how many men
are gonna be driving home

with their girlfriends
or wives this evening,

and they have to do
this one...

They gotta go,

"what joke?

"Oh, I don't remember
that joke.

"I laughed at it? Me?

"That doesn't sound
like me.

"You... you're saying
I stood up and clapped?

"I-I-I was probably laughing
about the joke before it,

"where... where...
Where god hated homosexuals.

"How did I know
that that joke was before it

"if I didn't know
that this joke even existed?

Your mother's a cunt."

Let's tell some stories.

Now.

This first story...

The first bit of this story
you should already know,

in the same way
that you know things like

"don't kill people."

"Try not to rape."

When you're
on an airplane,

there's a thing called
plane etiquette,

window gets an armrest
and a wall.

Middle gets two armrests.

Aisle gets an armrest
and a little bit of extra leg.

We're not fucking animals.

We live in a society.

So I was on a flight
from Los Angeles to Houston,

and I had the middle seat,
and that sucks balls.

So I'm sitting there
with my two armrests.

Next to me is
a petite young lady.

She's doing her job,
armrest, wall.

I'm in the middle,
two armrests.

Sitting next to me here
is a great big black man

who's as gay
as the day is long.

He sits down next to me,
and we do the niceties.

"Hello."
"hello."

And then,
with no issue whatsoever,

he sees my elbow there,
and he just went... jock.

And I went...

Now, I'm pretty upset,
but he's a big fucking guy,

and it's a long flight,

so there's no need
to get into an argument.

So I have that argument
that you have in your head

where the other person
doesn't know

you're having an argument,
where you're like,

"you're a fucking asshole,

"and if you said this,
then I would say,

'well, good sir,
I think you're mistaken.'"

right?

So I sit there festering
for, like, 45 minutes.

Then eventually,
the air stewardess comes

with the drink cart.

Now, while i'm
on air stewardesses, right?

Whenever you watch a movie
set in the '60s

and they show
air stewardesses,

or an old TV show... that show,
like, pan-am or something...

They always depict
air stewardesses

as these hot young things
with a pillbox hat,

and a little bun,
and big tits,

and a small waist,
and hauling a bag, going...

Like that.

I don't think any
of those women have retired.

'Cause this thing was just

being propped up
by the drink cart.

50 years
of recycled air

had made her skin
drip off her skull

like the end
of raiders of the lost ark.

She comes up.

The guy reaches over
for his drink and his pretzels.

Armrest open.
Bang!

I'm back in.

And I'm not fucking going
anywhere, either.

He puts all of his things
down on his tray,

and he goes to put
his elbow back,

but he fucking can't,
can he?

He can't 'cause there's
a wall there

called Jim jefferies,

and he can't
fucking move it.

Right?

And he's pushing,
he's pushing,

and I'm acting
like I can't feel it,

like this, but casual,
like... like...

Then he gets his fist like this
and his hand like that,

and he's pushing
really hard back,

and I'm trying
to do that casual.

But he's much bigger than me,
and eventually,

I have to give in.

I just went... jock.

So I turned to him and said
what needed to be said.

"Why are you such a cunt?"

Now, I understand that
that word in this country

isn't as popular
as maybe it should be.

People were freaking
the fuck out.

They were going, "he did.
He just said it.

"I heard him say it.

"Called that man a 'c' bomb.
I heard him say it.

"Bob, called the man
a 'c' bomb.

Bob."

And he was shocked as well.

He turned to me,
and he went, "excuse me?

What did you
just call me?"

But in for a penny,
in for a pound, right?

And I was there going,

"a cunt, sir.

I called you a cunt."

And he said, "are you upset
because you're trying

to take my armrest?"

And I went, "you don't know
plane etiquette.

"Window gets an armrest
and a wall.

"Middle gets two armrests.

"Aisle gets an armrest
and a little bit of extra leg.

"We're not fucking animals.

We live in a society."

And the people that initially
hated me agreed with me.

They're like,
"he is right about that.

"That is true.

"That is true.

We do live in a society."

And he went,
"oh, I'm only taking

"the back of the armrest.

You can have the rest
of the armrest."

And I went,
"you take the back,

"you take the whole
fucking thing.

"No one gives a fuck
about the front of the armrest.

"No one's ever gone,

'thanks for the front
of the armrest.'"

I said, "it's not just
that you're taking my armrest.

"Your elbow has come
over the armrest,

and it's digging
into my rib cage."

And he said, "well, maybe
if you lost some weight..."

Oh!

I know.

I was...
I was gobsmacked.

I didn't know
what to fucking say.

I just turned to him
and went,

"you bitchy queen."

Now everyone on the plane
has lost their fucking shit.

The movie... the movie
can fuck off, mate.

No one's watching
the fucking movie.

I'm the entertainment now.

The air stewardess
comes running back

on her Walker.

She comes up to us
and she goes,

"what's going on here?"

And I said, "I want this
fucking asshole away from me!"

And she said, "sir,
this is not the situation

to be swearing in."

I went, "yes, it is.

We're having a fight."

And she went, "well...

There's no need
for name-calling."

I called the guy
a bitchy queen,

so I sort of get
what she's saying.

And I turned to her
and said,

"you know what?
You're right.

"There is never a need
for name-calling.

"But...

"As a proud gay man
myself...

"I feel like I've earned
the right

to say such words,
so..."

She apologized.

The gay guy knows
I'm fucking lying.

He's fagging the fuck out,
just...

And the air stewardess
is saying,

"can everyone calm down?
What's the problem here?"

And he went, "he's trying
to take my armrest."

And the air stewardess went,
"everyone knows

the middle gets
two armrests."

And I went, "see?"

She goes, "I'm going to have
to break you two up."

And she pointed to the man
and said, "sir,

"you're going
to have to find a seat

at the back of the plane."

I'm victorious.

I stand up.

I bash my head
on the thing.

I point at the man.

And I went, "get to the back
of the plane!"

Now, a lot of people
on that plane

hadn't seen the rest
of the argument.

All they have seen is me
pointing at a black man,

yelling, "get to the back
of the plane."

Things got real awkward
real fucking quick.

I didn't know
what I'd done yet.

People were yelling at me,
calling me a racist,

and I was like...

"I know, but how do you know?"

Then a guy threw
a bag of peanuts

at the back of my head
and said,

"sit down,
you limey bastard!"

And I was like,
"that's the british!

I'm australian,
you fucking racist!"

Which would have made
a lot of sense

if being british or australian
was a race

and not a nationality.

But at that stage,

I was clutching
at straws, really.

So I go sit back down
in his old chair.

We got the empty sweet
between us.

Me and the girl
pound it out.

Now, later on the flight,

I'm walking up the back
of the plane to the toilet,

and I want to see the guy,
'cause I want to go...

And I get all the way
to the back of the plane.

I don't see him anywhere.

I'm about to go
in the toilet,

and then I see his leg
around the corner.

There were no more seats.

This is a full flight.

He's sitting in
the air stewardess' landing seat

that folds down
with the seatbelt over the top,

like he's in a fucking
go-cart.

I put my head
around the corner.

I went, "no armrests here,
dickhead."

And the air stewardess went,

"you get back
to your seat,"

and I ran away
like a child, like...

So for landing,
I go and sit back down

in his old seat.

Now, the air stewardess' seat
is taken,

so she's taking my old seat
in the middle,

and she fucking hates me.

And I'm taking both armrests.
Fuck her.

And as we're landing,

the guy over the aisle
leans over and goes,

"excuse me.
You're Jim jefferies, right?"

And I'm like, "yeah, man.
How you doing?"

And he went, "I had no idea
you were gay."

"Fuckin' yeah, man.

I-I-I like cock."

I-I threaten any, like,
fucking techno dj guy

who's watching
this special...

To make some song out of,
"I hate faggots!"

"I like cock."

I hate faggots!

I like cock.

Oh, it's gonna be popular
in europe.

Now, this last story

happened five years ago

and involves a very famous,
famous movie-star comedian.

I won't say his name,

as he comes out of this story
very poorly.

Five years ago,
I was performing

at the just for laughs
comedy festival in Montreal.

I was out there.

It was before my career
had taken off over here a bit.

I was out there supporting
a very famous comedian.

I was just doing
the ten-minute warm-up

in a big theater like this.

And for me, it was
a great stage in my career,

'cause I'd never been flown
overseas to do a gig.

I'd never met
a movie star.

I'd never performed
in a theater.

It was exciting times,
you know?

I get to the stage door
after the gig,

and there's like 300 people
waiting in the alleyway

just to get this guy's photo
or an autograph or something.

And I'm standing off to the side
like a bit of a douche bag,

like...

And then these two 18-year-old
french canadian girls

come up
and start talking to me.

Now, one of them's all hot
and 18 and wahhh,

right?

And... and the other one's
more...

Fat.

So...

I'm talking
to the two girls.

Eventually, the movie star
stops doing photos

and he walks over,

and the girls lose
their fucking shit, right?

We go out drinking.

It gets to, like,
4:00 in the morning,

and they yell last orders.

Now, every man knows
this moment in the night.

You've been working on a girl
for hours.

You haven't closed the deal.

They've turned
the lights on,

they've yelled last orders,

and you're in that
pressure cooker of time

where you have to go,
"uh, you wanna fuck?"

Right? So...

I'm gonna let you in
on a little secret,

which a lot
of comedians don't.

I'll tell you what I did
in this situation.

I said to the girls...
I said, "hey.

Let's stay out drinking."

And the girls go,
"we can't.

All the bars are shut."

And I said, "not the bar
back at our hotel.

The bar at our hotel
is still open."

Now, I should mention
at this stage of the story

that I knew full well
that the bar at the hotel

was not open.

We get back to the hotel,
the bar is shut,

and I'm like this,
"oh, no!

"This is fucking bullshit.

Thank fuck I have drinks
up in my room."

And then the girls
come up to the room,

and the spider web of deceit
is complete.

Now, we're all up there
drinking.

After about 15 minutes,
the other comedian becomes

what I can only call...

Rapey.

He wanted the two girls
to kiss each other,

but he wasn't doing
that drunken,

"how 'bout you two
start kissing?"

He was grabbing the back
of each of their heads,

going, "do it!
Kiss each other! Do it!"

Now, I was sort of in awe
of this guy,

so I was kind of nervous,
so I was like,

"aww.

Don't do that."

But there's a bit
of my brain going,

"but if you pull this off,
I'm right there with you."

Right?

The guy sort of checks himself
very quickly, and he's like,

"oh, I'm sorry, Jim.
I'm sorry, girls.

I don't know
what came over me."

And we forgive him
rather quickly.

We continue on drinking.

About 40 minutes later,
we run out of Coca-Cola

to mix
with the Jack Daniels,

so I go out
to the vending machine

to get more coke.

I come back in
with all these cans of coke

under my arm.

Now, obviously,
since I've been away,

the rapeyness has surged
back through his veins,

'cause he now has
one of the girls

pinned up
against the wall

and he's tearing
at her top.

The other girl's on his back
trying to fight him off.

Now, as exciting as it was
to see my first rape, I...

I really felt
like I should intervene,

but I was nervous.

So I was kind of like
George mcfly

from back to the future.

"Hey, you.

You get your damn hands
off her."

And he gave me
the most evil look

I've ever had
from another person.

He slammed that girl
against the wall.

He fought the other one
off his back.

And he looked at me,
and he goes,

"I'm gonna make sure
you never work with me again."

"And you girls
can fuck off as well.

I'm going to bed."

Then he storms
out of the room,

and he slams the door
behind him.

Now, the girls
are about to cry,

so I've got to keep things
upbeat, right?

You know
when you're with a child,

and the child's fallen over,

and there's
that small window of time

where the child doesn't know
it's hurt itself?

And if you just go,
"aggggh!"

The kid sort of goes,
"oh, no, what's happened?"

So he's stormed out,
the girls are about to cry,

and I'm actually going,
"whoa-haaaaa!

"Ahhh. Someone had
too much to drink,

now, didn't they?"

"Don't cry.

"I'm not gonna rape ya.

"Uh, look, look, look,
look, look.

"Look, look, look.

"I'll lock the door, okay?

"He can't get back in,

"but you can't get ou...
No, I'm joking!

"I'm joking! I'm joking!
I'm joking! I'm joking!

"I'm j-j-j-j...!

There's no rape."

So the girls calm down.

I go over to a table
in the room

and I start cutting up
a gram of coke.

Now, I turn around
to offer the girls a line,

but the look of horror
that is on their faces...

These are 18-year-old girls.

They'd never seen cocaine.

I might as well
have turned around

with a belt around my arm,
holding a needle, just...

So as soon as I saw
their faces,

I tried to downplay
the situation,

so I went...

"I've never done it before.

"The... the bad man
gave it to me.

It's probably hor... i'm...
I'm gonna throw it away."

So I gently scrape the coke
back into the wrap,

and for a man
who'd allegedly

never taken cocaine
in his life,

I fold the wrap up
like an origami ninja.

Just...

And then I looked at the girls,
and I went,

"well, I'm off
to the bathroom."

And I go to the bathroom
of my own hotel room,

and I start doing cocaine
off the toilet seat.

I come back out
a little bit more chipper.

I lay down
between the girls.

Every ten minutes,

I'm getting up
and doing cocaine.

I'm coming back.

I'm still drinking
whiskey after whiskey.

So I'm drunk,
plus I'm coked up,

but I'm trying to act
like I'm not coked up,

and so I'm trying
to hide everything

in front of the girls,

and that's giving me
the appearance

of cerebral palsy.

'Cause I'm just lying
between the girls going...

And then the hot girl
goes to the bathroom,

and the big girl
gets on top of me

and starts making out
with me.

And I'm so wasted,
I don't give a fuck.

I'm taking all comers.
I'm like, "ahh.

"Big fat person.
Ahh, ahh, ahh.

Ahh, ahh."

It's like extra person,
right?

And then the hot girl
comes out of the bathroom

and the big girl
gets off me

as though nothing
had happened.

She makes a hell of a sound.

And then the big girl
goes to the bathroom,

and the hot girl
starts making out with me,

or I start making out with her...
Who can remember?

So when the other girl
comes back from the bathroom,

I spring to the end of the bed,
and I went, "look.

"Here's the deal.

"We've all been making out.

We should all get naked
and fuck."

And the big girl's already
taking off her top,

like, "yeah,
let's do this!"

And the hot girl goes,
"I don't want to do that."

So I point at the big girl,
and I went,

"your job
is to convince her.

I'm going to the bathroom."

So I go to the bathroom.

I do another fat line
of Charlie.

I peer out the bathroom door.
The two girls are naked.

I'm excited, but I've never
had a threesome before,

so I panic a little bit.

So I jump back into the bathroom
in front of the mirror.

I'm like, "ha-ha!

"This is fucking brilliant!

"40 minutes ago,

"there was gonna be a rape
in this room.

I've really
turned things around."

And then my brain goes,

"you've just taken
a gram of coke in 40 minutes,"

and I look down, and my cock's
shriveled up like a walnut,

and I'm like, "oh, no!"

And I start hitting it
like it owes me money.

I'm trying to reason
with it.

"Come on,
it's two 18-year-olds.

This is what
we've always talked about."

I'm stretching it,

trying to get
blood flow back into it,

but I've got nothing.

I don't know about you,
but when I take coke,

I bloat out
and I sweat like a beast.

And I've got all fat
and sweaty

with this gnarly little
fucking cock.

My mouth's like cotton,

and I'm just looking at myself
in the mirror like...

"This is you."

So I just owned it.

And I just walk out
all fat and gross, like...

"Hello, ladies."

The big girl's going down
on the hot girl.

The hot girl's head's
at the end of the bed.

So I put my flaccid cock
into the hot girl's mouth,

which sounds like
an aggressive move.

And it was.

And she's sucking on
this flaccid whiskey-coke cock,

and I've got no decorum.

I'm just over her head going,
"ha-ha, ha-ha!"

And my gut's resting
over one of her eyeballs

like she was a meat pirate.

And I'm sweating profusely
from my forehead

into the other open eyeball.

And after a minute
and a half,

she pulls my cock
out of her mouth and goes,

"we're not doing this
anymore!"

And you know what I thought
at that moment?

"Good call."

I really pushed that boat out
as far into the harbor

as maybe it should've gone,
you know?

I just wanted the girls
to go home.

I wasn't going
to make them happy.

All I wanted
at this stage of the evening

was to have me coke wank.

Now, if you don't know
what a coke wank is,

let me explain.

When you take about a gram
of cocaine or so,

and you get home,
and you're lying in bed,

and your friends are gone,

and the sun's
about to come up,

and the depression's
about to set in,

you masturbate
for around four hours.

Now, this sounds excessive,
and it is,

but don't think
you're enjoying yourself

for four hours.

For 3 hours and 58 minutes,
you're in fucking agony,

'cause the cum's
right at the end of your cock,

but the nerve center
in your brain

refuses to pass the message on
to shoot it out.

And that's what keeps you
at the table like a bad gambler.

Now, the most important thing
with a coke wank

is to keep your focus.

You lose your focus,
you're fucked.

You've hit the reset button.
You gotta start again.

I'll tell you
how I do it.

I lay on the bed

with my laptop
really high up on my chest,

with the battery
burning into my rib cage.

I put the most horrific porn
I can find on the screen,

which often is just women
punching each other.

I put my hand
behind the screen

so I don't have to see how
violently I'm fucking myself.

Then, through cuts,
abrasions, and bruises,

and using tears as lube,

eventually, you will come,

but you're so dehydrated,
it doesn't come out

in a fluid state.

You just shoot, like,
these six gelatin chunks.

Now, ordinarily,
when you come on your chest,

it's best to get a towel
and mop it up,

but this stuff,
you just roll it in a ball

and Chuck it in the corner.

Then, after you come,
you realize something

you're almost dead.

Your heart's beating
at a very irregular pace.

Your mouth's like cotton.

So you peel yourself
off the mattress to get water,

but your thighs
are cramping up.

You walk away.
You turn around.

You see a sweaty outline
of your body on the sheet,

and it looks like
the shroud of turin.

Anyway...

I was looking forward
to doing that.

So I said to the girls,
I said, "oh...

You can go home."

And the big girl went,

"but I still want
to get fucked."

And I went, "oh, you're more
of a package deal."

Now, as soon as I said it...

As soon as I said it,

I felt like
a fucking asshole, right?

One of the great things
about being an offensive comic

is you can cover your steps
very quickly by going,

"oh, I'm kidding.
I'm crazy. Wahh!"

So I did that.

I went, "oh, I'd love
to fuck you.

"I love you. I was kidding.
I would love it.

"Rahh!

But I can't fuck you
in front of your friend."

And she points
at her friend and goes,

"you get in the bathroom
while I fuck him."

And I went, "eh.

"Eh.

I-I can't see
why that wouldn't work."

Now I've got to fuck her.
It would be rude not to.

You can't be willing
to fuck someone in a couple

and not be willing to fuck them
as an individual.

That's bad manners,

and my mother brought me up
better than that.

So I'm gonna fuck this girl
to be polite.

And her friend didn't want
to go into the bathroom,

and she's, like, crying,
and her friend's, like,

pushing her, like, "just get
in the fucking bathroom."

This big fat girl's
pushing this hot girl,

like, "get in
the fucking bathroom."

And I'm so wasted,
I'm getting involved, like,

"yeah!
Get in the bathroom!"

And so we push this hot girl
into the bathroom.

She sits on the toilet.
She's crying.

She's so hot,
and she's crying, like...

Then she turns
the hair dryer on

so she doesn't
have to listen.

So picture, like,
there's this hot girl.

She's crying.
She's holding a hair dryer.

Just...

Anyway, that gave me
an erection.

So now I've got an erection.

Do I wear a condom?

And the answer is no.

I was on too many drugs
to come.

No one's
getting fucking pregnant.

And let's be honest...
18-year-old canadian

who'd never seen cocaine?

Let's go out on a limb

and say
she doesn't have aids.

And even if she did
have aids,

it wouldn't be
the aggressive "rahh" aids.

It would be a soft,
gentle, girly aids that...

Probably wouldn't kill me.

So I got on top of her.

I told her I was
a premature ejaculator

so I didn't have to fuck her
for too long.

'Cause I knew I wasn't
gonna come, right?

So I put my cock in her
for like ten thrusts.

I went...
And then I just pulled out

and went, "rahh!"

And she went,
"what was that?"

And I went, "oh,
I just came over there."

And she goes, "no, you didn't."
I went, "yes, I did.

"There's, uh,
heaps of it over there.

"I wouldn't go over there.
You'll get pregnant.

It looks like a Jackson pollock
painting over there."

Anyway, then we let her friend
out of the bathroom,

the girls got dressed,

and they went home.

Now, that should be
the end of the story,

but it's not.

That story happened
five years ago.

Now, this year,
I went back

to the just for laughs
comedy festival in Montreal,

and I wasn't supporting
some movie star.

I was... I was in the big theater
myself, and... and...

And when I finished the show,
I went to the stage door,

and there was people
waiting for my autograph.

And at the end of the queue

was the hot girl,
all these years later.

And I took her back
to my hotel

and I fucked her.

Now, the reason
I tell you this story

is because you should never
give up on your dreams.

Ladies and gentlemen,
thank you so much.

Good night.
Bye-bye.