Daniel Sloss: CAN'T (2025) Movie Script

Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome to the stage Mr. Daniel Sloss!
Sure.
Hello, Istanbul.
How you doing?
Are you well?
Well, it's a pleasure to be here.
It's a legit fucking pleasure to be here.
It's nice to say that and to mean it.
You know, you have to say it's nice to be here to an audience, even when they live in England.
It's very exciting for me.
It's my first time in Turkey, first time in Istanbul.
I'm very grateful that you've all come out to fucking see whatever the fuck this is.
I'm also, just to give you some credit where it's due, I'm always so impressed by audiences like yourself.
And how just very casual you are about how impressive what you're currently doing is.
You are listening to and enjoying comedy in a second, possibly even third language.
And look how casual you are about that intelligence.
Just like, yeah.
Where else would we get comedy?
What is he saying?
If a Turkish comedian were to turn up in Scotland and start doing comedy in Turkish...
we'd be like...
I knew they were coming for all of our jobs.
The Turks, they're the old version of AI.
That's what they are.
I haven't got to experience too much of your city yet.
I plan to see as much as I can, eat as much as I can.
You know how to cook a fucking baby sheep, I'll give you that.
Delicious.
Unbelievably good food.
I saw a 13-year-old smoking while fixing a car today.
Feels like I'm getting the full Turkish experience.
I've got to ask, though.
What the fuck is Ayran?
Coming from a country that has haggis, right?
I don't want to be too insensitive.
But haggis exists because the English used to take all the good cuts of meat, leave us with all the intestines.
We need to spice that up and make it delicious.
Who did you lose a war to where watered-down yoghurt with salt became your fucking delicacy?
I never thought I would get to this stage in my career, right?
I started comedy when I was 17 years old and my parents were surprisingly supportive.
Normally comedy parents don't really give a shit or understand.
My parents the opposite.
I told them I wanted to pursue comedy and my mum was like, you can do comedy as long as you promise to take it seriously.
Okay, thanks for that German riddle.
What she meant was the work ethic.
She wanted me to work hard at the job because she works very hard at her job.
Because her job is actually important.
It's a real one.
My mum is one of the leading experts in Europe when it comes to mercury emissions and greenhouse gases.
And what that means is she goes to developing countries, to help them reduce their carbon footprint.
Because it doesn't really matter what the West does in terms of going green if we keep telling India to make all of the shoes.
Right?
So her job is to go there and help them find better ways to burn fossil fuels in a hope to prevent, if not slow down, global warming.
And she does all of this from her home office.
Very intelligent woman.
And every morning at half past eight she would wake me up with a cup of coffee, some toast, bring me downstairs, sit me on the opposite side of her desk so that she could watch me write stand-up comedy for eight hours at a time.
Because if this was going to be my job, it was going to be a fucking job.
Now, to be fair to that process, 16 years later I am arguably quite a successful comedian.
And I don't know if you've paid attention to global warming.
But it turns out one of us was working very hard at that desk.
And the other was a lazy bitch.
I remember being
sat at that desk.
Playing World of Warcraft because she couldn't see the screen.
Just wishing to myself, God, I wish I was a real comedian.
Whatever that is.
But 17-year-old me had a firm idea in his head of what he thought real comedians did.
And then in my twenties I tried to be that person.
I travelled the world.
I got drunk on stage.
I had threesomes.
This fucking guy.
17-year-old me never truly died.
He continued to live on as a sort of voice in my head.
And throughout my twenties he was very much a cheerleader in everything I did.
Because he loved 21-year-old me.
Because 21-year-old me was a party fucking animal.
And 17-year-old me thought that was quite cool.
21-year-old me used to sincerely say stuff like, if I don't die by the time I'm 40, I'll consider it a personal failure.
17-year-old me would be up there like, woo!
Yeah!
I'm 33.
That is seven years away.
I do not want to die by 40.
There's so much more to live for.
Two years ago I finally learned how fun it is to watch a monarch die.
Okay?
There's more joy to be had.
More flavour.
More to the world.
17-year-old me hates 33-year-old me.
And that's because 33-year-old me is happy.
But the reasons I'm happy are reasons 17-year-old me finds lame.
And that's because I've grown up.
I've changed.
I'm not that kid anymore.
Like, you grow up.
You mature.
Two years ago I became a father for the first time.
And that really forces you to sort of grow up.
And you think that you'll hate the changes.
That you're forced to make by becoming a parent.
But you actually don't.
Because they're very logical changes.
They make sense in the moment.
Before my son was here, my favourite person on this whole planet was my wife, then fiance, Cara.
Now we have a son together.
Now she's second.
That's a logical switch.
Any father in this room will agree with that as a principle.
Similar thing for her.
I was her favourite person in the world.
Then we had a child together.
And now I'm twelfth.
Devastating to find out.
Crushing.
But she showed me the list written down.
And it did make sense.
Despite the fact that she did spell my name wrong.
It's changed not necessarily how I do stand-up.
But for 15 years stand-up comedy was my priority.
And I'm ashamed to say that now that it's not.
I love it.
It's one of my favourite things to do.
It's one of the greatest forms of entertainment.
It's such a pure form of entertainment.
I know it's not the best.
I'm not delusional.
I know what I do is not more entertaining than live sports.
I know I'm not better than live music.
I don't even think I'm better than a lot of theatre.
I am better than all magic.
Very comfortable with that.
As a truth.
I don't know if you know this.
But comedians hate magicians.
We fucking hate them.
Because for some reason magicians seem to think that we are peers.
And comedians find that quite insulting.
Because you can't learn how to do what I do from a seven-year-old Japanese boy on YouTube.
Comedy requires talent, passion and creativity.
And not just autism.
Find me anyone that does magic who doesn't have autism.
And I'll find you a funny person that doesn't have mental health issues.
And we'll play a very sad game together.
Comedy, in terms of entertainment, it's better than live hypnosis.
Live hypnosis is a disgusting thing.
Just because 100% of hypnotists are sexual predators.
Which is a terrifying statistic.
A terrifying statistic that I just made up.
But...
Even though I made it up, it is still true.
And that's weird.
Have I met all hypnotists?
Of course not.
But I've met sex.
And I got a good read.
What's your dream job?
I want to make people really sleepy.
To help them stop smoking?
I want to make them do things they wouldn't normally do.
And have no memory of it afterwards.
I'm gonna need you to go to jail.
Man, that's...
That's like 12 red flags in a 10 word sentence.
That's fucked.
Comedy is not the greatest form of entertainment.
Because the greatest form of entertainment has been illegal for well over 2,000 years now.
The Colosseum...
Is where we peaked as a species.
When it came to life.
Live entertainment.
Okay?
Take your 2024 morals out of it.
Oh, it's barbaric!
Oh, it's inhumane!
Sure.
But let's acknowledge how good it must have been to be alive at a time when your weekend entertainment was getting to go down to your local stadium to watch a group of people that you hate with every fibre of your being being mauled to death by an animal that you didn't know existed.
What a fucking day.
That's so much more interesting.
More entertaining than anything I could ever offer you.
Imagine that's how you got to wake up tomorrow.
Right?
7 am.
Your alarm clock goes off.
It didn't need to.
You were awake.
It's a big day.
Bedsheet over your shoulder like a toga.
Crocs on your feet.
You flip-flop down to Istanbul Stadium.
I didn't do the research.
And you're just like, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please.
Oooh.
Russians versus bears.
Okay.
How many? One, two, three, four.
That's good.
I don't know what a bear is, but I know what a Russian is and I fucking hate those.
Important caveat there.
The victim of that joke always changes.
Always changes.
Yesterday in Athens, it was you.
For this dojo.
They fucking hate you.
They fucking...
Oh, man.
They fucking hate you.
They want Constantinople back.
That's what I thought.
But you don't really hate the Greeks as much.
No?
You just, eh...
Tell them to come and get it.
I asked my promoter, because I want to find out.
I was like, who is it that the Turks hate the most?
And he was like, other Turks.
And I was like, oh, okay.
What's going on?
Yeah.
He was like, or you could go after the Syrians.
And I'm like, I'm not gonna.
I think they've been through enough.
He was like, ah, fair enough.
Try the Afghans.
All right, man.
I don't know.
I don't know if you know the history of where you are.
What a cool way to be introduced to a new animal.
Just seeing it at its most violent.
That's an unbelievable...
That's so cool.
Like, the first time you ever hear of the concept of a bear, it's eating a Christian to death.
Oh, daddy.
I...
Sorry.
Father.
Like,
how were you introduced to lions in your lives?
The Lion King?
The MGM logo?
Your mum had a book?
A is for aardvark, B is for bear.
What's L for?
Lion.
And what noise does a lion make?
La.
Oh, my God.
You're so smart.
I'm gonna take you to the zoo tomorrow so you can see a real lion.
And your mother is a woman of her word.
She takes you to the zoo the next day and you get to see the saddest lion that ever fucking lived.
It is so depressed that they had to declaw it so it couldn't slit its own wrists.
It's got purple in its mane.
It's listening to My Chemical Romance.
It is a sad, sad lion that will give you the best blowjob of your teenage years.
I'm just saying, look, if the Coliseum existed now, I would be a season ticket holder.
I would go to every single event.
And not just the men's stuff.
I'd support the women.
I'd go to the youth games.
Would you like to come to the theatre tonight, Daniel?
Oh, I'd love to.
But I'm watching two French orphans fight an emperor penguin.
I know you think that'd be an easy fight, but those kids are blind.
And that beak is unbelievably sharp.
It's actually how they lost the ice.
This is the rematch.
They fucking hate this penguin, man.
They hate him so much, but they just can't find him.
Where is he?
Obviously the Coliseum's illegal now.
Fucking liberals.
I don't need a time machine to know that whatever the Roman version of the left wing was, it was those fucking losers that got the Coliseum cancelled.
Just a bunch of white, greasy, specky, fat losers standing outside the greatest theatre of entertainment with their homemade signs.
This is barbaric.
This is inhumane.
We're be...
We're better than this.
If I was around back then, I would have been the Roman equivalent of a boomer.
I would have been one of the older generation just going against the younger.
furious at the sensitivity of this younger generation.
Be like, look at these fucking snowflakes.
They're trying to take away the Coliseum.
They're trying to take away our entertainment, our history, our culture.
They say that this is barbaric.
It's not barbaric.
It's... scientific.
Scientific is...
Yes, it is scientific.
How many limbs is not enough limbs?
Is a tiger more or less dangerous if it's on fire?
These are important questions.
They're trying to get it taken all away.
It's political correctness gone mad.
What next?
We can't crucify the Jews?
The end of this show isn't we pull up that curtain and it's Jerry Seinfeld, like.
God, you can't say anything anymore.
You can't say anything anymore, ladies and gentlemen.
You try saying something and I tell you what, you fucking can't.
That's the narrative a lot of American comedians like to spread.
As somebody who is actually globally successful and owns a passport...
from my experience, there are three countries where you cannot say whatever you like on stage.
They are India, Russia and Singapore.
And now...
Those are countries where before you go on stage, before you arrive in the country, you are very firmly told by the government, not only are you not allowed to make fun of the government, you're not allowed to say that you're not allowed to make fun of the government.
And I know that's an outlandish premise for you.
But...
Try and say it from other people's perspective.
Don't, don't, no, no, aye, aye, aye.
Daniel Sloss committed suicide in Istanbul, USA.
He decided to fist himself with a grenade.
In America, in Australia, and in mainland Europe, especially in the fucking UK, you can say whatever the fuck you like on stage as a comedian, as long as, and this is crucial, that you're talented.
Being talented is a very important ingredient in getting away with saying really awful shit, OK?
I've done jokes about death, disability, cancer, AIDS, disability, toxic relationships, abusive relationships, paedophilia, rape, grooming, sexual assault, 9-11, the Holocaust, both world wars, both atomic bombs, graphically acted out, the entire LGBT plus community, all religions, even the Muslims, I'm not a fucking coward.
Abortions, miscarriages, abortions, COVID, the Queen's death, Madeleine McCann, Anne Frank, and I'm still fucking here, OK?
What these lesser comedians mean when they say things like, oh, you can't say anything anymore, is you can't say anything without certain groups of people being offended.
Now, that is true, but it's also never not been true, ever.
Like, there's never been a point where you could just say whatever you wanted and 100% of people would go...
Oh, very good.
If you've ever experienced that, congratulations, you're a dictator.
People have always been offended by comedy, and hopefully people will continue to be offended by comedy, because that's really what makes comedy comedy, is the threat and the promise that outside of this room, a lot of this would offend most people, right?
That's the edge, that's the fun.
That's what makes this art punk and rock and roll.
If this was popular, it would be country music and we'd all kill ourselves.
People need to be offended by comedy to make it fucking fun.
It's crucial, even as an audience.
Sometimes the funniest bit of a show isn't actually the comedian.
It's sitting next to someone who fucking hates the comedian.
There's just an extra level of je ne sais quoi to be watching a comedian having a fine set and then they do one close-to-the-bone joke and you're like, that's going to upset some fucker.
Look at this cunt, he's writing an email.
I get so bored of comedians saying you can't say anything.
As if it's not their job to get better at it.
The line changes as society grows.
Your job is to decide how close to the line you wish to fucking dance.
That is the skill, that is the art form and if you cannot do that, step the fuck out of the game.
The job of the performer as a comedian is to lead the audience by the hand through the minefield of the controversial subject that you're making jokes about.
And because you've done this joke several times, you know where all the landmines are.
So you can fuck around.
And that's what the audience likes, is you getting dangerously close to danger.
They like that.
It's you being like, la la la la la, oh, la la la la la, Gaza, la la la la la.
See?
But the audience don't know the joke.
They're scared.
So you have to lead them by the hand through this routine being like, just follow my feet and we'll get through this joke together.
We are making jokes about cancer.
You're right.
You are right.
And it... Huh?
You know someone that died of cancer?
Wow.
You're so unique.
You must be the only one.
I apologize.
That was harsh.
But you've seen my other specials.
You've seen Dark.
You've seen Jigsaw.
You've seen X.
You know I would never do anything to put you in any actual real...
Wah!
I'm just playing.
That was...
What was that?
Never call me English again.
That's actually insulting.
That's actually very, very offensive.
You know what?
If you're gonna be like that, you can fucking stay here.
Nowadays, I tend to see lots of comedians standing on the edge of that minefield, pushing their audience into it and then complaining when wheelchair users turn up to their next show.
You've seen these comedians.
They say edgy things and then they get yelled at and then they cry that they got fucking yelled at.
They're taking no responsibility for what they did.
Pathetic.
You don't see entire restaurants of people getting food poisoning and then the chef coming out afterwards being like, you can't undercook anything these days.
People are so sensitive.
But I think this response will be different to a lot of places in the world.
But please give me an honest, true representation of you, Istanbul.
Do you think that we are getting more sensitive?
As a society?
Yeah?
Okay.
I don't disagree with you.
I don't fully agree with you.
I think we exist in a time where we've never been more aware of each other's emotions because we have social media and nobody has the ability to shut the fuck up about themselves for more than 10 seconds, said the man doing his 13th 90-minute show
about himself.
But look, I acknowledge there's lots of outrage nowadays.
But if I'm being honest, I tend to see more outrage to outrage than initial outrage itself, especially in America and the UK.
And what I mean by that is like, some comedian will do a joke about something that you're not made to do jokes about, like cancer, abortion, 9-11, whatever.
And then three people in the audience won't like the joke, which they're allowed to do.
People are absolutely allowed to be offended by comedy.
Of course they are.
But instead of going home and using their God-given gift of shutting the fuck up and dying, they go on the internet and they use their human right to go, wah, and complain.
And they're allowed to do it.
And yes, it's whiny.
And yes, it's annoying.
But that's free speech.
That's how it fucks.
It goes both fucking ways.
But then a journalist, which, at least in the UK and America, is the lowest form of occupation after poet.
There used to be some really good journalists back in the day.
And then I think they died in wars.
And now we're just left with these people with half a fucking English degree, who instead of choosing to educate society and inform the masses, decide that it is their divine right to split society farther down the middle by fanning the flames of the culture war.
Right?
And just winding people up.
They take these three tweets from three people that didn't enjoy the show.
Right?
They put it into an article with a headline talking about cancel culture and the woke mob.
And then they put it out there.
And then 50,000 people who didn't see the show and didn't see the joke are now offended that three strangers they've never met were upset by a joke they didn't see.
And this 50,000 people are unironically losing their minds.
Just like, I'm sick of this fucking bullshit.
Everyone's so sensitive.
Everyone's so pathetic.
They get upset by the smallest things that don't even affect them.
You must find that frustrating.
Look, my own personal experience of this.
I once put out a speech to trigger warning on one of my shows which I never thought I would do because trigger warnings are the death of comedy.
Trigger warnings are inherently anti-comedy.
Just in the sense of like, warning!
The following show contains mention of all of my punchlines.
That's an impossible game that I don't want to play.
And then I did a show called X where I spoke about rape and sexual assault.
And after the first two performances of that show I very quickly realised that if you are going to bring up one of the worst moments of somebody's life during a comedy show that it might be nice just to give them a little heads up that you're about to fuck up their day like that.
For me, trigger warnings are just the social equivalent of tapping somebody on the head before you cum.
Right?
Like, it's not the law.
You don't have to do this.
But it's a kind thing to do.
It's empathetic.
It's selfless.
It's feminist.
It's...
Tapping somebody on the head before you cum and trigger warnings give the exact same message.
It's your way of saying, hi, we're all here for a good time.
And I'm having such a good time that I'm about to do something that could spoil yours.
I'm still going to do it.
Because I want to.
I can.
And at this point, I don't have the strength not to go ahead.
But I would hate for my enjoyment to diminish your enjoyment.
So here's a little warning so you can remove yourself from the situation if you don't think you can handle what's about to come, pun very much intended.
I had to explain that joke to my wife.
I run all my material past my wife, Cara.
She's a very, very funny person.
I love her feedback.
She says things like, that's too cruel.
That's not who you are.
Or, that's too cruel.
I told her that one and she went, I don't get it.
I'm like, that's okay.
What bit don't you get?
What does that mean?
Okay.
Well, if this isn't a trap, sometimes when people are giving blow jobs, even though they like the act of giving a blow job, they don't like the end result of said blow job.
So, when you're getting to that point, you tap them on the head so they can get out of the way.
And Cara didn't know that because she's a cum-gustling slut.
So how could she...
How was she...
How was she meant to know that?
In her line of work, how was she meant to arrive with that little bit of information?
It went right over her head as opposed to down her fucking gut.
Oh, my God.
Mother of my child.
That joke, very fairly, has received quite a few complaints already on the show.
And I get that.
There was one woman in Zurich who didn't enjoy the show and she emailed me.
She said, normally I love your comedy, but I thought your use of sexist language was pathetic and childish.
And I was sat there like, yeah?
That was the whole joke.
Like, look, it's not a particularly clever joke.
It's not a deep joke, but I don't think I picture it as that.
The only reason that joke is funny is because you're not expecting me to say something awful and then I say something horrific.
That's it.
It's very much, look over here.
Slap.
It's a very old trick in comedy, but it never doesn't get a massive laugh.
And I believe in democracy.
Sorry, I should explain.
Democracy is...
Yes.
Two grenades up his ass.
Two whole...
And he didn't pull the ring out the first one.
It's such a weird...
But look, fair enough.
She didn't like the joke.
That's absolutely fine.
The bit about the complaint that irked me was the sentence afterwards where she said, how do you think your wife would feel if she ever saw you telling that joke?
And I'm like, you didn't listen to the fucking joke.
The entire setup is that I run all my material past my wife.
Do you not think I run that joke past my wife?
And look, if it makes anyone in this room feel any better about laughing at that very lazy, misogynistic joke, not only is it Cara's favourite joke of the whole show and one of her favourite jokes that I've ever told, it's her dad's favourite joke.
And...
I have seen my wife and my in-laws in a box in Edinburgh Playhouse watch that joke and high-five each other afterwards because they know it's just a joke.
And he knows what he made.
He's a wimp.
Just like her mother.
Oh, and also, look, I don't know who needs to hear this.
Tapping somebody on the head before you cum, only during blowjobs.
You got that?
Only during blowjobs, okay?
I'm gonna cum.
Okay?
What the fuck?
Why do people keep treating me like a dog?
Oh.
I did the show X all around the world, the show that I did that was about rape and sexual assault, all over the world, 300 performances.
We received six complaints in total about the subject matter.
And the jokes in the shows.
Those about rape and sexual assault.
Six complaints globally.
57 complaints about the trigger warning.
Isn't that interesting?
Every single week, some angry man, you know you're giving in to cancel culture.
You know you're giving in to the woke mob.
You're sticking up these signs, these trigger warnings for people.
You understand how pathetic that is.
Maybe, maybe you're right.
But you are aware that you could also just be yelling at a mind your head sign.
Like, if the trigger warning doesn't affect you, feel free to fuck off.
Now, don't get me wrong.
If we are becoming more sensitive as a society, which I agree with you, is a very realistic possibility, then under no circumstance can the most sensitive people in society ever be in charge of what is and isn't offensive.
Because that would be like letting little people put up the mind your head signs.
And even though that's a lovely inclusive gesture, it would create a frustrating world for the rest of us to live in.
Man, you'll love this place.
Korean barbecue.
It's so good.
It's one of the fucking best.
I...
Fuck!
Yeah, no, I'm fine.
There should just be a fucking sign there.
That's all.
Everyone else, knock down.
We'll be fine.
We'll get fucking through it together.
Here we go.
Mother...
Motherfucker!
God fucking damn...
Mind your head.
Why is it on the table?
Do not let any comedian convince you that it is not their responsibility to make offensive jokes.
Palatable.
That is the skill.
That is the art form.
That's what separates you from me.
The job of the comedian is to, when saying something horrific, to make sure that they do it with a twinkle in their eye, a spring in their step, a tongue in their cheek, a turn of phrase.
Something small but performative that lets the audience know that the awful thing that's being said is just a joke.
Because if you don't do that, it's hate speech.
For example.
Fuck the queen.
I'm glad she's dead.
Exactly!
There was nothing funny about that.
There was nothing clever.
There was no callback.
There was no pullback and reveal.
It's almost as if I meant it.
Look, I am very aware that it sounds immensely lame.
I am very aware immensely lame to say something like the secret to offensive comedy and getting away with it is empathy.
But that is it.
If there's a shred of empathy in the awful things that you say, the audience is normally emotionally intelligent enough to understand that it's just a joke.
That's why you can get away with darker jokes with your friends than you can with strangers.
Because they know you have empathy for them.
And you can hear the lack of empathy that a lot of these really bad American comedians have in the way that they talk about comedy when they're doing their shitty little podcasts.
What subject are you going to tackle next?
What topic are you going to take down?
None.
I don't tackle subjects that I know nothing about for the same reason that I don't tackle strangers.
Because tackling's a very aggressive way to acquaint yourself with something that you're not familiar with.
I like to approach topics with curiosity, respect and a healthy dose of fear.
I very much consider myself to be the Steve Irwin of stand-up comedy.
Do you remember Steve Irwin?
The fucking, the crocodile guy?
Stingray got him through the heart.
Remember him?
He loves animals.
He was the best.
That's my approach to comedy.
I'm like, audience, audience, gather round.
Gather round.
Nah, bring the kids.
They'll be fine.
So, down here, we have the subject of slavery.
Now, as a white man, I should step very fucking carefully around this subject because I'm the reason it's angry.
Beautiful creature.
Beautiful creature.
My grandfather used to collect these.
So, if I am the Steve Irwin of comedy, which, through your laughter, we've all agreed that I am, it does mean that one day, one of my jokes
is going to get me.
And it's not going to be the one we think.
It's going to be a really obscure joke that ends up getting me cancelled.
In two years' time, your partner's going to shake you awake.
Daniel Swartz has been cancelled!
No!
That makes sense.
That's fair.
Was it the rape jokes?
No!
Huh!
It must have been the Jew stuff, right?
You would think!
What could he have possibly said?
Well, he had this new joke about wallpaper.
And...
So, it's got me thinking to myself, what is my sting ring?
What seemingly safe topic am I going to start making jokes about and it's going to get me into the most trouble?
And I know what it is.
It's going to be my jokes about parenthood.
And not because they're offensive, but just because the most sensitive people in every society are the parents.
Parents, in general, are walking clitorises of human beings.
Parents exist with all nerve endings exposed at all times to the world because God forbid any of the world reached their precious fucking child.
It comes from a very good and empathetic but scared place of being a parent in which, look, you want to be the best parent possible.
But there's a thousand ways to be a good parent and there's a thousand ways to be a bad parent.
And you don't know which version of it you're doing and you don't know until they're in therapy.
And by then...
But I did not want to do any jokes about being a dad.
I swore that I would never talk about it on stage.
Cara told me I was going to be a dad on the same day that I found out that I had COVID, which was a big day.
During the second UK lockdown, I had sore muscles, which was weird because I hadn't been to the gym.
I took a test and it came out positive and I ran up to Cara and I went, I've got COVID!
And she went, Haha!
One all!
We need to be safer in general.
I swore I was never going to do any jokes about it, right?
Just because it's a boring thing.
Everyone's talked about it.
Everyone does jokes about it.
And then I became a father and I'm going to be honest with you, I have fuck all else to talk about.
Like, it consumes you.
It's all you think about.
Even before the child's in the world.
The second I found out I was going to be a dad, I was like, fuck!
You self-assess.
You get really brutally critical.
And not just in the sense of, is this the right time?
Will I be good at this?
But on a DNA level, I'm about to pass this on.
Knowing what I know about this vehicle after 33 years in the driver's seat.
Is that a kind and responsible thing to do to someone else?
Because if I'm being honest, right, I don't want my son to get my nose.
Because I grew up with my nose and I was born with it.
I was bullied for it all the way through school.
I do want my son to be as prone to addiction as I am.
This is a gin and tonic.
I love drinking whiskey.
I'm a massive fucking stoner.
I do not want my son to have to fight this delicious battle every day.
I hope my son isn't angry like I am.
I really hope he doesn't wake up every morning like I do.
Challenging the world to give him a reason to smile.
I want him to wake up like his mum does and just be like, ahh!
The world is mine!
The world!
Another day, another smile!
So, if he could be unbelievably stupid, that would be perfect.
It's not all bad.
I don't hate myself fully.
I've got really beautiful eyes.
If he gets my eyes, they're better than her beady little seagull ones.
And then you look over at your partner and she's making a similar yet much longer list.
If he gets your feet, we're gonna throw him in the ocean.
By the way, I'm very aware that I use the old comedy trope of just saying really horrible things about my wife.
And that is just because that is our sense of humour.
But I understand that as an audience who don't know my relationship with my wife, it could very easily come across as me being underhanded or saying cruel things behind her back.
And that's not the case.
It's really important for me that you know that nothing that I have ever said on stage about my wife compares to what I whisper in her ear while she sleeps.
Our love language is...
verbal abuse.
And people don't like hanging out with us.
But the sex is fucking wild.
And also the truth isn't as funny.
Me standing on stage telling you how much I love my wife, especially after writing fucking checks up.
Nobody wants to fucking see that.
There's nothing funny in me telling you that I want our son to be mostly her.
And of course I do.
Mostly her.
Not all her.
Not all.
There is one part of my wife that if my son gets it, I will love him less.
And I hate to sound Hitler-y here.
But I think people who get travel sickness are the most genetically weak breeds of subhuman worm.
And I don't think they should be allowed to drive.
I don't think they should be allowed to reproduce.
I don't think they should be allowed to vote.
Because they're not full complete people.
Right?
And to anyone in the audience who gets travel sickness, please understand.
I know it's not a choice.
I know you didn't wake up one day, get handed a form, and you were like, oh, giant fucking loser, please.
But what do you mean when you say that your body doesn't understand the concept
of travelling from A to B while sat down?
What part of that very simple thing does your dumbass body struggle with?
That's the only option, cunt!
And it's also been the only option for as long as you've been alive.
You have never existed in a world where trains, planes, and cars didn't exist.
How is it possible that you were born without this update?
It's pathetic!
You're the human equivalent of buying a new phone that only runs Windows 95.
You get on trains to visit your grandparents, and you're like, I'm gonna have a great day.
Meanwhile, your body's like, what the fuck?
Outside move.
Me still.
Outside move!
Me still?
How me still wouldn't move?
And your body's way of dealing with that trauma is to just go, empty it!
Send it all up!
Even the chewing gum!
And I go 25 miles an hour round a roundabout, and you go, boh, thank you.
If your mum knew that your dad got travel sickness, how dare she fuck him to completion?
What an irresponsible slut your mother is.
The reason I think my jokes about parenthood will get me into the most trouble is because everything in pregnancy and childbirth is controversial, right?
Because there's so many different ways to do it.
It's different culturally in every country.
It's different depending on what your fucking religion is.
People just have different ways of doing it.
And even though there are some things that are scientifically verifiable about pregnancy and childbirth as fact, if you were to say those facts out loud, you would still manage to offend over half of the world.
Isn't that insane?
The truth will offend over half of the planet.
And I'll prove it to you.
Pregnancy and childbirth is really, really fucking difficult.
For men.
I see, I see you dads.
Pregnancy and childbirth is brutal.
Listen.
Listen to that deafening silence from all of the women that were just laughing at the slavery joke.
Do you hear the...
Ah.
It was hard for you, was it?
Yeah.
It was hard for me.
I had to watch my favourite person explode from my favourite end.
How would you like me to process that trauma?
Pregnancy and childbirth is brutal for men.
Is it?
Is it worse for women?
Yes, yes, of course it is.
To any mother in the room, of course.
Pregnancy and childbirth is infinitely worse for women.
Of course it is.
But that doesn't reduce what we go through, ladies.
Just because you're having a shit time doesn't mean we're in Disney World.
It's not a competition.
Becoming a father for the first time is a lot like losing a leg in a war.
And then when you get home, you have to spend the rest of your life living with someone who lost both legs and both arms in the exact same war.
Do you understand what I mean by that comparison?
Like, you've lost a leg.
Things have changed for you.
You have to adjust.
Your dreams of being hopscotch champion are over.
Unicycles are off the cards.
Shoes are twice as expensive.
Half as useful.
But are you going to complain about any of that next to Stumpy?
You wouldn't fucking dare.
You're just like, huh?
How am I adjusting?
To what?
Oh, this!
I barely even noticed this!
Hey, it could be worse!
It could be worse!
I want
to make myself crystal clear to the mothers in the room.
I am not suggesting that what Cara went through giving birth to her son wasn't infinitely worse than what I went through watching her do it.
Of course it was worse for her.
I'm just saying everything was on her side.
The doctors, the science, the medicine, the evolution!
There's a chemical in women's brains that after they give birth their brain goes, Jesus Christ!
That was fucked!
That was the worst thing that's ever happened to us!
You want four more.
And it deletes the memory of what they just went through.
And sometimes women don't get this chemical release and they remember every single sentence.
Every second of childbirth.
And do you know what happens to those women?
They get literal PTSD.
Because that's how traumatic childbirth is without this fucking chemical.
Men have never had that chemical.
Because we didn't need it five thousand years ago.
You fuck a lady, you go hunt a mammoth, you come back, baby!
The miracle of life!
I'm a modern man.
I was in the room when my son was born.
I was the only sober cunt in the fucking room!
While the midwife asks insane questions.
Would you like to come down and watch?
No.
This isn't my job.
I'm not qualified for any of this.
I don't think I should be even in the room.
If this was any other emergency, I would never be allowed in the room.
The only reason I am in the room is for the same reason that we used to rub dogs' noses in their own shit.
Just look what you did!
Look what you did!
No, I'm not gonna come down and watch.
I'm gonna stand up here, make eye contact with the love of my life and become aware of how powerful my peripheral vision is.
Why are you so short?
I watched the whole birth.
Whether I wanted to or not.
And I saw the moment that Cara's brain released the chemical that made her forget all of her trauma.
And it was the only miracle I saw that day.
Now...
She didn't have a bad pregnancy, but none of them are fun.
They're all shit.
It's a massive fucking design flaw.
But it wasn't the worst of the worst.
But it still wasn't pleasant.
She was uncomfortable.
She was in pain.
She felt sick but couldn't be sick.
It's just ugh.
One of the big things that she hated was when she was six months pregnant and onwards, our son did not stop moving while he was in there.
He moved 24 hours a day.
And we found that quite annoying.
And then one day he stopped moving and we had to be like, oh, fair play.
That is much worse.
Oh, that's so much worse.
That is the youngest anyone who's ever called my bluff.
Like, he must have had his ear to her belly button being like, I move around too much, do I?
That's interesting.
Okay.
Are you guys more relaxed now?
Because if anything, it sounds like you're more stressed.
So, we stick her in the car and we rush her to hospital, which is always fun with someone who gets travel sick.
What a stress-free car journey that was.
Could you slow down?
Shut the fuck up!
Shut the fuck up!
Shut the fuck up!
- I love you.
- Shut the fuck up!
We get to the hospital.
They do a scan.
And they're like, yep, no, he's in there.
He's just been a dick.
And I'm like, oh, that's my boy.
Oh, God, I didn't...
You know, you can never guarantee it's yours.
There's no way of knowing for certain, but he didn't get attention.
He faked his own death.
I just...
Oh, is this pride that I'm feeling?
Is that what that is?
So, we get the all clear and I take the midwife aside and I go, look, her due date is in like six days and we're already here.
We're at the hospital.
Yous are all here.
Midwife asked me, she goes, what are you, sorry, what are you asking me?
And I'm like, just surely with modern medicine, there's like a way to lure the baby out quicker.
Lure the baby out quicker?
Yeah.
You know, like, I'm not a doctor, but if I were to guess, if you get like a set of keys and you jangle them just above your partner's clitoris, surely at one point the baby's hand comes out to grab those.
And if you're fast enough, you grab it and you pull.
And if you pull hard enough, you don't have to go and cut the cord.
Look, I'm just, I'm just spitballing ideas here.
You're an idiot, I've been told.
Sir, you cannot lure a baby out.
You can annoy a baby out.
I beg your pardon?
We can piss off the baby so much while he's in there that he hates her so much that he leaves.
What?
Yeah, that's what, look, I'm going to be, that's what all the old wives' tales are.
You know the spicy food thing?
If you eat spicy food, the baby comes out.
Yeah, that's because the baby doesn't like the spicy food.
So it storms out of the restaurant that it's not enjoying.
You've heard how sex induces labor?
Yeah, that's because the baby doesn't like the, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, like...
If somebody was kicking in your front door every day, how long would it take you to be like, maybe we should move?
We opted for a method called the sweep.
Now, if you haven't heard of the sweep, strap the fuck in.
Now, to any birthing professionals, nurses, doulas, medical professionals,
midwives, and most importantly, mothers who may have had the sweep, I am going to get the science of this wrong because I wasn't listening, because it's fucking yuck.
But, from what I remember, when the baby is inside of the egg.
The...
Fuck off.
I...
The...
I know the tummy isn't an egg, but there's an egg in there, and that is where the baby lives.
When the baby is inside of the egg, there are mucousy membranes which connect the top of the baby's head to the uterine wall.
And as time goes on, these membranes will break, they will tear, they will naturally dissipate.
And when they've all gone, that's one of the mother's body's way of signaling to the baby, or you, get the fuck out of there.
And the baby's like, no gay.
But what a sweep is, is a midwife comes into the room and puts more fingers inside of your partner than you ever have.
A number that if you were to suggest it to your partner, she would be offended.
But the midwife doesn't even have to ask consent.
She just comes in like an old school baby.
A little cricket bowler, and goes, And then with her fingers inside of your partner's uterus, she will manually tear the membranes between the baby's head and the uterine wall in a sweeping motion.
And that gets the baby to come out faster.
Now, I don't get the science of that, but the logic is sound.
If you were alone in a room, for nine months, and then something tapped you on the head,
nothing could get you out of that room faster.
That's the most terrifying thing I've ever heard of in my life.
You've never been touched before.
You've never known physical contact.
All you know is food through a tube, outside noise, and...
What's that?
Who's about to come?
That's all I've got here.
So they do the sweep, and shit starts happening instantly.
And I do mean instantly.
Kara starts getting these really brutal stomach cramps every four and a half minutes.
And I know they're every four and a half minutes because I am timing them because a book told me to do that.
And after, like, three or four of these bouts of severe stomach pain, I very naively say, Hey, do you think that these could be the contractions?
And one of the very few people who are pregnant women is that they are psychopaths.
And it's not their fault that they're psychopaths, and they shouldn't be judged for being psychopaths.
But chemically, they're psychopaths.
There's hormones going around their body.
It would be more insane if they were sane.
So I say, Do you think these could be the contractions?
And with a straight face, she goes, No.
There's a simpler explanation.
This is a normal amount of pain, and I'm just handling it poorly because I'm a weak woman.
Okay.
Okay.
I love you.
You are beautiful and strong.
You are a phoenix.
If I could offer a counterpoint, I think that this is an excruciating amount of pain that you're experiencing because the sweep has worked, and these are the contractions.
How come none of the other women are in as much pain as I am?
Because they're not having contractions.
And I know my own body.
So she's in bed knowing her own body, and I'm on the couch knowing Instagram.
And the midwife has a list of a hundred stupid questions that if she doesn't ask, she'll explode and die.
And she waits for the most inconvenient moments to run into the room and be like, Hey!
Would your partner like a bath?
No!
She'd like to give birth.
You're thinking of a hotel.
You're a hospital.
A hospital.
Can you say hospital?
Gee, honestly, can you believe the dumb shit that...
We'd love a bath.
No, that's my fault.
I forgot.
I read in a magazine that it can be really relaxing to stew in a pool of your own blood.
So they take us through a room with a bath in it.
A bathroom, I believe it's called.
Kara gets naked.
She gets in the bath.
It wasn't sexy.
That was new.
And if you've ever been in the room when your partner's giving birth, you understand how useless you are in that moment.
Just in the sense that there's nothing you can do to alleviate any of the suffering.
There's nothing you can do to take away any of the pain.
You're just there to witness it.
That's all.
The only thing less that you could possibly do is not be there at all.
Which is obviously the worst thing you could do.
The worst thing you could do is not be there at all.
But the best thing you could do is one step above the worst thing you could possibly do.
And it's to be there and be pointless.
Just asking stupid questions like, so...
does it...
does it still hurt?
Looks like it hurts.
Is this a touching time?
Is this not a touching time?
Would you like me to sing to you?
Or maybe I should slit my own throat.
Maybe I could add my blood to the sacrificial pool.
And you can chant something from an old tome and we can summon a baby!
Midwife's bored.
She pops back in the room.
Hey, would your partner like any painkillers?
What gave it away?
The screaming or the crying?
This woman came back with one paracetamol.
Right?
Which in her defense is the funniest thing she could have done.
Not the time.
Not the place.
But as a comedian who can remove himself from the situation emotionally and look at it objectively, I can tell you that comedically it is very, very funny to give a woman who is in labor one paracetamol.
That's...
It's cruel.
It's very funny.
She might as well have walked past the room being like, thoughts and prayers.
Cara takes the paracetamol and Istanbul, this is going to shock you.
For some reason, it didn't help.
Cara's stomach pains get to be two minutes apart.
Right?
And I keep saying, I'm like, are you sure they're not the contractions?
And Cara's like, they're not the...
Contractions.
And I'm looking at the midwife incredulous like, are you...
Are these the contractions?
She knows her own body.
Women are actually very intuitive creatures.
So we don't go to the labor ward.
I'm freaking out so much.
It gets to 90 seconds.
I'm freaking out so much that to just shut me up, we go down to the labor ward because a room becomes free.
And I feel less useless at this point because the one job that I have comes into play.
When Cara was six months pregnant, she made the decision that...
An unusual decision, but her decision.
She wanted me to be in charge of her drug intake during labor because she didn't want to make a decision too far in advance, not knowing what's going to happen.
She didn't want to make a decision in the moment that she might later on regret.
I believe her exact words were, you know me and you know drugs.
So we get to the labor ward because I don't like seeing my favorite person in pain.
I'm like, Garcon!
O est le menu?
Ah, dankeschn, por favor.
We will have a bottle of your finest laughing gas, then three epidurals, one in each eye.
You can work that one out, big boy.
Midwife comes into the room five minutes later and word for word, this is what she says and this is how she says it.
Okay, Cara, the nurse who has the epidural is just doing another one around the corner.
She'll be with us in five minutes, which is not enough time because that's the baby's head.
What?
Yeah, that's, that's the baby's head right there.
He's got blue eyes, by the way.
And a massive fucking nose.
Jesus.
This cunt smelled us before he saw us.
This is...
What are the chances that those things I've been timing for the past two hours, what are the chances those were the contractions?
Those were definitely the contractions.
Thank you so much.
I know this is an emergency, but if you could just give us 10 seconds of privacy for the sake of our marriage.
I'll be as fast as I can.
I'll be so, I'll be, thank you, thank you so much.
Thank you, thank you.
Never ever forget that our son came into the world at a time when you were wrong.
So...
I didn't get to watch as without, without an epidural.
With one paracetamol.
And with less laughing gas than I had taken in the past 15 minutes.
I didn't get to watch Cara go through the most pain.
Just the, just the most pain I've ever seen a human being go through live.
Like, a level of pain that while you watch it happen someone that you love and care about you're just stood there like, well...
She's not coming back from this.
Like this, I'm just, at the end of this is going to be a different woman.
There's no way women walk this off.
There's no, that can't be true.
That can't possibly be true.
I believe in the strength of women.
Of course I do.
But there is no fucking way that all women just go His name's Steven.
And then...
live their life.
There's no way that could be possibly true.
If that's true, why don't we send them to war?
They're better suited.
She's pushing, she's screaming, I'm there.
I'm useless.
The baby comes out, they cut the cord, they place her son on her chest, and the second his skin touched her skin, her brain released the chemical that deleted all of the trauma of the last five hours of her life.
I've never seen anything, it was instantaneous.
The second she held him, she just went...
A baby.
And the believe that Yeah.
Why do you think we're here?
That wasn't so bad, was it?
Yes, it was.
That was actually the worst thing that has ever happened to you.
No.
You know what?
I think I really enjoyed that.
Seven minutes ago you asked that man to cut my dick off!
He's not even a doctor!
And the midwives aren't on your side, by the way.
Uh-uh.
Just a room full of medical professionals there to gaslight new dads into submission.
Just see, Cara, that was so easy, wasn't it?
That was so easy!
Are all births as simple as that?
All births are as simple.
Fuck off!
Which one of you cunts has the men in black pen?
Did I blink?
Cara had to stay in hospital for an extra three days because during labor she lost one and a half liters of blood in 20 minutes, which for a five foot three person is actually all of it.
And the way they measure how much blood that your partner loses...
I don't know.
...during labor with modern medicine is, they know the weight of the bedsheets before she gave birth.
Uh-huh.
And when she's finished giving birth, they weigh the difference.
So once she's done giving birth, like the world's shittest magicians, they just...
Oh no.
I ate too much.
Is she on floor?
So they hand me my seven-minute-old son, and they say, Mr. Sloss, it's nothing to worry about.
You just have to take your wife through to theater immediately.
And I'm like, which one?
I've probably played it.
They give me a form to sign, which says, essentially, if she dies, whoops.
They take her through to the other room.
All the medical professionals leave.
I'm there with my pinky in my son's mouth because my nipples are fucking useless.
Fifteen minutes pass.
Half an hour.
Forty-five minutes.
An hour.
Seventy-five minutes.
Ninety minutes.
Am I a single dad?
Like, is this how it happens?
Am I just in the limbo of not knowing right now?
Is this Schrodinger's wife?
Like, until...
What's a respectful amount of time before you get to re-download Tinder?
What's the...
Hey!
He needs a mum!
Or he needs a mum with big tits.
I know my boy.
Kara is absolutely fine, by the way.
It's not another one of those shows.
I'm not...
It's OK.
She's good.
Cara came back into the room after two hours, drugged up to the fucking high-pots.
I married an incredibly fun woman, but she came back in like, Wheeee!
How good's childbirth?
I'm like, yeah, yeah, okay.
She's like, we should tell everyone that we know.
I'm like, whatever makes this day better for you, whatever makes you happy.
I think I had to watch for the next hour as she FaceTimes all of our closest friends and loved ones and tells them a story that categorically never happened.
Just the absolute delusional ramblings of a blood-deprived, drugged-up, cum-guzzling slut.
Just...
She's just there like, and then I got to the hospital and there was a wishing well, so I wished for twins!
And we got twins!
We did not have twins.
For three days she's looked after, she's cared for, she's talked to.
How to breastfeed the son.
Every day I go home I cry myself to sleep because I'm pretty sure she's gonna fucking die.
Right?
She gets home, we spend a week together.
I'm still terrified the entire time.
And then we get to hang out with other new parents.
And you just get to watch all these new mothers sit around and swap their rose-tinted war stories of a trauma they vaguely remember.
Just like watching a bunch of pensioners at an old folks' home trying to piece together a jigsaw.
Just women being like, Look, Susan, Susan, nobody's saying childbirth doesn't hurt.
We all acknowledge that it nips a little bit.
But we're just saying the pain isn't what you remember.
God, I was only in labour for 96 hours.
A mere 96.
And I slept for two of those.
So time really flew by.
I don't remember the pain.
I don't remember the screaming.
I don't remember the blood loss.
I don't remember being told to stay away from the light seven times in the space of two minutes.
Do you know what I do remember?
The weight of him in my arms.
Because they're never that small again.
They're never that small again.
God, I'd have another one right now.
I'd have another one right fucking now.
I know what you're saying.
109 hours I spent on my back in that hospital.
Seven different hands inside of me.
None of them belonging to the child.
At one point, they actually ran out of doctors.
They had to bring the janitor in with a plunger to suck that baby out of me.
But I tell you, whenever I see her little cone head...
Oh, my heart.
Oh, I'd have five more.
I'd line them up in my garden.
I'd let them fish.
Meanwhile, all of the dads are at the back of the barbecue.
Like Vietnam veterans.
I was there.
I saw the whole thing.
And they try to prepare you.
They try to train you.
But when blood starts flying, all your training goes out the window.
Shh, shh, shh, shh.
Hey, buddy, if you're going to cry, do it quietly.
Because if the women hear you, they'll just laugh.
No, man, they could not care less.
Remember five years ago when collectively, as a gender, all women were like, we want men to be more open about their feelings.
Well, it turns out they didn't mean in this scenario.
So let's go old school.
Bottle it up, push it.
Damn.
She nearly died.
She nearly died like two times.
Ah.
Only twice.
Well, now you know what birth is.
And now you're going to be better prepared for the next one.
The next one?
There won't be a next one.
Gbb.
Sure.
Why, why, why?
Why would there be an ex-boyfriend?
Why would there be...
Knowing what she has to go through, not just growing that child inside of her, but the risk to her life to bring her child into the world.
Why would I ever risk my soulmate's life like that again?
You know.
You know.
Don't make me say it, because then I sound like the dick.
I know you know.
I'm not going to say it.
I know you know.
Don't make me say it.
It's not...
Don't...
You're going to make me say it.
OK, you check that way.
I'll check this way now.
Because it's better to have a dead wife than an only child.
I agree with you.
Whatever your opinion is...
Yes, that one.
That joke could and should be softened.
But I haven't found a way to soften it yet, because I haven't tried.
Because that joke is actually perfect, and it very audibly lets me know where all of the only children are.
Because it's a very distinct, sudden lack of laughter.
It's very...
No,
I didn't enjoy the show, actually.
No, I thought he was dumb.
I thought he was stupid.
I thought he was bigoted.
I actually think he should change a lot of his jokes.
And you know what?
He will change his jokes, because I always get my way.
Before my perfect little boy was brought into this world, I really wanted to have three kids, and Cara wanted to have two.
Which meant we were having two.
Because it's her that has to go through all of it.
Like, if we had two kids, and I wanted a third, and she was like, I'm not in the mood, I could hardly be like, but what about me?
Like, if I want a third that much, we can adopt.
Especially in today's society, because, you know, recycling is very important.
It's the best way to...
Now that we have a child together, and we're aware of all the risks involved,
I would love to cut my dick off forever.
And Cara wants to have four children.
And that means we're having four children.
Because this is part of society where women actually have 100% of power, especially over heterosexual men.
Because she knows that I don't have the strength to turn down unprotected sex.
Because I don't know any man who has that superpower.
That's not even one of Superman's superpowers.
And he can fly, so that should tell you a lot.
One of my closest friends, his daughter is only a couple of weeks older than my son.
And when she turned one years old, we went to her birthday.
And at that moment, he chose to tell us that his wife was pregnant.
With their second kids already.
And we had to be like, Fucking congratulations, man.
That's good for you.
Thanks, man.
What about you?
Any more?
Any more on the horizon for you?
Under no circumstance.
Under no fucking circumstance.
One and done.
And while I'm saying one and done, I can hear Cara cackling in the background.
Just...
Is he saying one and done?
I love when he does this.
Shut your fucking mouth.
Nobody believes you.
You sound insane.
Why?
Because I can click my fingers and make you fuck me in that car in less than four seconds.
That's how easy that would be.
Who do they think they are?
It's like they get a little bit of whiskey in their system and they're like, I'm a big boy.
I make big decisions.
It's adorable.
I love him.
He's cute.
I just can't...
Where the fuck has he gone?
He's in the car.
I'll be two minutes.
I didn't love my son at first.
I know you're meant to.
Society tells you that you're going to love your kids straight away.
And then when you don't...
Hey, you're going to hold your child for the first time.
You're going to make eye contact.
And the second you do, your life is going to change in that single moment.
Oh, my God.
What an amazing moment.
I can't believe I get to be conscious for the moment my life changes.
Oh, okay.
Is this one ours?
You sure? Definitely?
Okay.
I liked him.
I thought he was cool.
I was glad he was there.
But love?
Instant, unconditional love?
I've done ecstasy.
Like, I know what that's supposed to feel like.
Mind you, ecstasy takes a while to kick in.
Maybe this is like that.
In fact, the worst thing I could do at this point would be to have a second kid.
And then halfway through that one, the love for this one kicks in.
That would be...
It doesn't feel good.
I'm not bragging about it.
I'm not bragging about not loving my son straight away.
It makes you feel immensely broken.
And there is no one you can talk to about it.
Because that's a really awkward bit of information to offer up to the world.
You can't...
I couldn't relate to other dads.
I'd be sitting there, and they'd be like, I would have died for my daughter on day one.
What?
Really?
Because when my son was 13 weeks old, I would have dropped him if there was a spider on him.
And not intentionally, but instinctively.
I felt awful.
I felt like the worst fucking father alive.
I was upset, you know.
Again, I liked him.
I was glad he...
But I didn't have that overwhelming love that everyone tells you about.
I phoned my friend, the one with the kid.
I phoned him up in tears one night.
Being like, I'm a monster.
Like, they should take this kid away from me.
He deserves so much fucking better than me just being apathetic.
You've got to tell me.
Do you sincerely love your daughter?
And there was about five seconds of silence at the other end of the phone.
Well, I think he checked to see if his wife was listening.
And he went, fucking no, man.
I just met her and she seems cool, but I don't want to come across as desperate.
Like, she's cute.
But yesterday she shat in her own vagina twice.
And that's a big red flag for me.
And I was like, thank God I'm not alone.
And less than 48 hours after that call, I woke up to a voice.
A voice note from him, which was just his daughter laughing hysterically in the back of his car while he said the words, I've never loved anything more in my life.
And I was like, perfect.
That's all I need to know is that it does kick it.
And if there's any new parents out there, if there's any expecting parents out there, and you don't feel that thing instantly for your child, I want you to know it is fucking normal.
Right?
And I promise you it will kick it.
I can't tell you when.
Because I don't know when it kicked in for me.
Cara will tell you the day I fell in love with my son was the day that we were all in bed and she was breastfeeding him.
And when he was finished breastfeeding, he unlatched, rolled over, looked me in the eyes, and we farted at the same time.
And I felt something.
That was a special day.
Because not only did our farts last the same amount of time, because his butthole is way tighter than my butthole, it came out in a different pitch.
And they actually harmonized.
It was this really awfully beautiful note.
And I think an angel got her wings that day.
I remember coming back from being on the road for ten days, which was the longest time I'd been away from him when he was about four months old.
I missed him so much.
I got home, I got to my driveway, and he saw me through the window, and he recognized me, and he pointed and smiled.
Which is my favorite thing my fans do.
And I remember in that moment being aware of like, oh, my God, this is it.
Like, there's nothing I wouldn't do for this kid.
And then I thought, what a fucking narcissist.
It took my own son going, oh, my God, that's Daniel Sloss.
Before I...
Before I was like, oh!
You didn't tell me he had taste.
I'm a good dad.
I'm not the best, but I'm good.
I'm very good at changing diapers.
I'm so good at changing diapers.
For the first year of his life, I didn't let her do it.
I never changed any of them.
And not because she'd earned that, but just because I watched her change one of his diapers, and I was like, you don't ever get to do that again.
She's an unbelievable mother.
But as I've said, she's got a soft stomach.
She gets travel sickness.
She gets queasy all the time.
I don't want my son's first memory of somebody pulling down his trousers to be them going...
I'm going to be sick.
That's disgusting.
I just think that could do long-term damage to a young boy's confidence.
So I change his diapers, and whenever I do it, I'm like, look at that cock, man!
What a cock!
Not too big, not too small.
Goldie cock, that's what I call it.
And I don't see that having any negative impact.
I'll leave you with this.
I love, I love being a father.
It's the single greatest thing I have ever done in my life, sincerely.
It has made me a worse stand-up and a better person.
And I'm fine with that.
The thing that I don't enjoy is how much more emotional I have become.
And I've always been quite an emotional person.
I'm a very sensitive soul.
And if that comes as a surprise to you, then the illusion has worked.
I'm fucking soft as fuck.
I cry minimum twice a week at things that absolutely do not matter.
I cry regularly at the movie Moana.
That's who I am as a person deep down.
And becoming a father just made me worse.
And I hate that side of myself because emotions are weak.
And I know you're not meant to say that emotions are weak.
And that's because emotional people are weak and they get sad when you say that.
Because they're weak.
And if you don't placate them, they...
I know I've become more sensitive because seven years ago I used to have a joke that would always split the room.
And I loved the fact that it split the room because I was trying to be a young, edgelord comedian, right?
I'd say this provocative, offensive thing.
Half the audience would boo.
Half the audience would cheer.
And I thought that divisiveness and controversy is what made me a talented comedian.
I'd smugly swan around on stage being like, well, I guess some people just can't handle the fucking truth.
Now that I'm older, I understand that the reason the joke divided the audience is because it involved harm happening to children.
And parents are incapable of hearing sad stories about sad things happening to children and not automatically assuming or picturing their own child in that scenario
and laughing at it less because it's a bit too close to home for them.
Whereas non-parents will always laugh at the joke because it's just about hypothetical damage happening to a hypothetical kid.
They've got no skin in the game.
They're like, what kid?
Who kid?
Fuck them.
And I know that that is the case.
That your proximity to how, you know, if you have children is whether the joke is funny or not.
Because now as a dad, not only do I not find my own joke funny, I find it very upsetting.
And that kills me.
I'm a comedian who is offended by one of his own jokes.
That fills me with the deepest shame I have ever felt in my fucking life.
So in order to get any sleep tonight, I am going to tell you the joke.
Of course I am.
I'll leave you on the joke.
But I want to make sure that any parent in the room understands I do not find this joke funny.
I think this joke is cruel.
I think it is callousness disguised as silliness.
I think it makes fun of a very real and common tragedy.
And not a tragedy that shouldn't be made fun of.
I think everything can and should be made fun of.
But if you are going to make fun of it, it should be done with more emotional maturity and a better punchline than you are all about to receive.
That being said, you know how small versions of regular things is fun?
Right?
Not 10 out of 10 fun.
They are not going to make a theme park about it even though you fucking did.
I know what you've got here.
And this is a little world.
Cool, guys.
Couldn't afford Disney, could you?
Small versions of things is fun.
Right?
You get on a plane.
You order a can of Coke.
You're expecting a full-size can of Coke.
And you get a mini can of Coke!
You should be angry that you're getting less Coca-Cola than you thought.
But look at the little can!
But it's smaller.
Fun.
You get to your hotel.
There's a mini fridge already funny.
Who's that for?
A hobbit?
Just give me a full fucking fridge.
Why is there a mind your head sign on it?
Who's that for?
It's like a regular fridge but it's smaller.
It's the regular thing but it's smaller.
Fun.
In that fridge, there's going to be a bunch of mini bottles of alcohol.
These bottles could be in any shape but they're not because the marketing people at this alcohol company understand that as human beings we love small versions of regular things.
There's just something exciting about seeing something small in a miniscule way and makes you feel like a giant.
It's fun.
At what point during child surgery do you think that novelty wears off?
Scalpel.
Smaller scalpel.
Haha!
I'm a little scalpel.
Mini clamp.
Mini suction.
Not a fucking straw.
Oh look, it's a little lung.
It's like a regular lung but smaller.
That is a full size tumour though.
So we were buying wallpaper the other day.
Istanbul, thank you so very very much.
This is beyond a privilege.
To say this is a dream come true would be to lie to you because I never in my life thought I would ever fucking perform in Istanbul, let alone you cunts buying every ticket until we were just like, well fucking I think it's a prank.
Um...
Um...
Thank you all so much.
Enjoy the rest of your lives.