Sarah Millican Live at the Apollo

Good evening and welcome to Live at the Apollo! CHEERING – Are you well? AUDIENCE: Yes! I’m glad. I’m also well. I’d a migraine a few weeks ago. I don’t get them often enough to worry about, but I do get them now and again. I thought, I’ll go on Twitter. I’ll ask people on Twitter how they get rid of their migraines. Give us a cheer if you are on Twitter. CHEERING I got the usual sort of expected responses, and then my favourite one came up. It said, “Two Nurofen and a wank.” And it totally worked. If anything, it just pushed the throbbing down a bit. Thanks, @BootsTheChemist. About a year ago, I had a sore throat for a bit too long. I went to see my doctor. My doctor sent me to see a specialist – an ear, nose and throat specialist. I said, “OK.” So off I go to see this fella, lovely fella he was. He said to me, “Do you suffer from acid reflux?” I said, “No.” And then, when I got home, I realised I should have said yes, cos my husband and I eat so many Rennies that we call them bathroom sweets. He said, “I’d like you to take Gaviscon after every meal.” I said, “After every meal, or every time I’ve eaten?” Cos those two are very different numbers. He said, “What I’d like to do is put a camera down your throat so we can “have a proper look at what we’re dealing with.” I thought, “This is the bit where he sends me away and I “come back in six months with a new appointment.” He went, “No, no, we can do that now.” “Oh, shit!” So he got out this contraption, metal like this and metal like this. The main thing you need to know is that it’s very rigid – – none of it moves – so And he put it down my throat and I instantly gagged. SHE IMITATES GAGGING And he pulled it out and said, “Are you going to be OK with this?” And I went, “Yes.” And then he put it back in. SHE IMITATES GAGGING I was mortified. He said, “Do me a favour – “the next time you think you’re going to gag, do this.” Ee-e-e-e-e-e-e. I said, “Why?” He said, “It stops you gagging.” And I thought, “Noted.” LOUD LAUGHTER APPLAUSE My husband’s going to think he’s being sucked off by a Geordie pensioner. Ee-e-e-e! Who knows? Some day, he might be. No, I meant that we’re pensioners – I don’t mean, like, for a present. Come on in, Doris, he’s ready for his gift now. SINGS: “Happy birthday to ee-e-e-e-e.” I’ve got pets. I’ve got two cats and a dog. I’ll tell you about those. My cats, they don’t always get on. Sometimes, they kind of chase each other, it looks a little bit aggressive, so what I do to break that up to kind of distract them is we use a laser pen – you will have seen these. So the cats will be chasing each other round then one or both of them will become transfixed by a little red dot that has appeared on the ceiling or the walls or the floor. And it’s so effective that we’ve started using it in our own relationship. So I’ll be saying something like, “All I want you to do when you’ve “finished with your wet towels is put them in the… Ooh! Ooh! Ooh!” But whenever you introduce a new cat a household that already has a cat, there’s always a bit of aggro while they work out the hierarchy, then it settles down. The day I knew our two were going to be OK with each other was the day that I walked into our bedroom and they were lying on the bed like that. They weren’t quite spooning, but it was good enough for me. I tried to come in behind them. “Big Mama Spoon’s getting on.” “I’ll be the ladle.” I don’t know what that means. And for about two minutes, it was utter perfection, and then Brodie leaned over to Ripley, the little girl cat, and just started licking her arsehole. I don’t think Mama Spoon’s supposed to be here for this. She was brilliant. She was lying with her legs shut like that. As soon as he started licking her arsehole, she went, “Ah, that’s lovely.” I turned 41 this year. I like being in my 40s. Give us a cheer if you are 40 and above. SCATTERED CHEERING I like it. I don’t give a shit about unimportant things any more. I think that’s what it boils down to. Quite a few things changed when I turned 40 last year. One of the things that changed is that I’ve stopped sniffing me leggings. AUDIENCE LAUGHS AND MURMURS I used to sniff them to see if I could get another day out of them. Whereas now, I just assume that I can. But I read on a proper form – a proper official document – recently the term “women’s problems”. And I thought, in 2016, really, it says “women’s problems”? I thought, why doesn’t it just say periods and menstruation? There’s nothing wrong with those words, nothing wrong with the actual thing. It’s perfectly normal, it’s natural, nothing to be ashamed of, it’s part of life. Seems peculiar to me. So what I’ve decided to do, and you can come with me if you like, I’ve decided to bypass the word “periods”, if people find it so offensive, and I’m going to say this instead… So if somebody says to me, “Are you all right?” I’m going to go, “Ugh, I’m clotting.” See, the word period isn’t so bad now, is it? No! But a lot of the euphemisms for periods are really horrible. It’s such a bad reflection of how normal it is. So if clotting horrifies you, I get it. So I made up another one – a bit lighter, a bit more playful. Perhaps this will appeal to you more. This is it – it’s WI week, because I’m making jam. Do you get it? Do you get it? AUDIENCE GROANS Some of you are more horrified by that than you were by clotting, and I think I have ruined afternoon teas for everyone. Sorry about that. I read a really good statistic that said that 67% of women – so two thirds of women – don’t bath or shower every day. And my first reaction, because I bath or shower every day, my first reaction was, “That’s disgusting.” My second reaction was to start sniffing my friends. And my third reaction was, “Well, if they’re not doing it, “I’m not going to do it.” I do mostly bath or shower every day but, every now and again, if I’m running late or I’ve got an early appointment or I’ve slept in, anything like that, I’ll do instead what my mum would refer to as a flannel job. This is a good tip for the women in the room who do have pubic hair. The next time you do a flannel job, if you do it in a circular motion, you can Afro it right up, it’s really fun. Proper bouffant going, if you like. That’s not a joke. That’s just a tip for you to take home and try. In a room of this size, at least 40 or 50 women tomorrow morning will be like, “I’m going to give it a go, I’m going to give it a go.” Ugh, massive pants. Oh, yeah. I went for a massage. Give us a cheer if you’ve ever been for a massage. CHEERING See, I don’t like it. I like the bit at the end where I feel all floppy and relaxed, that bit where I’m like, “I might never wear a bra again.” I don’t like the actual activity itself. I feel very uncomfortable being in front of a stranger just in my pants. So what happens is I book the massage, I get so stressed and tense on the build-up to the massage that the best you can do at the massage is get me back down to the level of stress I was at before I booked the massage. Now, one thing they do in those appointments that I don’t like is when they teach you how to breathe. They do that, don’t they? Like, “I’m 41. The breathing’s been going pretty well, thanks.” But they do that, don’t they? They go, “And breathe in.” SHE INHALES SHE EXHALES “And breathe out.” I could have died! I could have died if I’d waited for her. The last massage I had, she said, “This is an aromatherapy massage.” I said, “That’s correct.” “I’ve got three different oils. “I want you to smell each one, pick the one you like the best, “and we’ll use that one.” “Champion.” She unscrewed the lid off the first one, wafted it in front of my nose. I said, “Is that Eucalyptus? Eucalyptus? Like a menthol? “Like a menthol? Is it menthol? Is it menthol? Is it menthol? “Like a mint? Is it mint? Is it mint? Is it mint? Is it mint?” She said, “You don’t have to guess what it is.” The second one, she wafted it in front my nose, I said, “Is that lemon? Is it lemon? Is it lemon? Is it lemon? “Is it like a citrus? Like a citrus? Like a citrus? Like a citrus? “Like a general sort of citrus? Is it grapefruit? Is it grapefruit?” She said “It’s not a quiz”. The third one, she wafted in front of my nose, and I did like it but I didn’t know what it was. I said, “I’ll have that one.” She said, “Good.” She read the label on the bottle, she said, “That’s happy”. And I thought, “I was never going to win the quiz, was I?!” My worst bit of a massage is the bit, in a full body massage, where they make you turn over on the table, cos the tables are very narrow, and I am not. They do at least hold the towel up, don’t they, so you can flubber, flubber, flubber over, then plank it, or so I thought. The last one, she held the towel up, I flubber, flubber, flubbered over. I was almost in position when our eyes locked in the mirrored wall at the end of the room. My friend said to me, “That’s not my worst bit of a massage.” I said, “What’s your worst bit?” “I don’t like the bit where they pull your knickers down a bit.” I said, “They’d have to do that with me, otherwise they wouldn’t get half me back.” I went for a massage with a friend of mine. We were in the waiting area, and the woman came out and said, “Ladies, ladies, ladies. Just to let you know that on staff today “we have a male massage therapist. “I was wondering if either of you would mind…?” And my friend went, “I’ll have him”. I said afterwards, “Look, you’re single, you can always have the bloke if you want, “but just let her finish her question first. “Maybe leave it a second and then say, ‘I suppose I don’t mind,’ “rather than, ‘I’ll have him.’ ” She came out of this massage with this huge beaming smile on her face. I said, “Was it a good massage?” She said, “Oh, yeah.” I said, “That’s good.” She said, “I felt his erection.” We take turns to pay and it was my turn. I thought, I’m not paying if she’s had extras. I said, “You felt his erection?” She said “Yes, on me elbow.” Now, I don’t know what your elbows are like, but mine is like rhino skin. I’d be hard pushed to tell hot from cold with mine. That would be an excellent game show, wouldn’t it? “Cock or not? Cock or not?” One thing I don’t like – this might come across overly mean. I hope it doesn’t, but it might. I don’t like a skinny massage therapist. The one I use at the moment is about my size, maybe a little bigger. I don’t like the skinny ones. They’ve never said anything to me, but in my mind, when they’re massaging me, they’re doing this – “Eurgh, eurgh, “eurgh, eurgh.” “I’m going to need more time, it’s a bigger surface area.” The whole time I’m being massaged there’s an inner monologue going on up here. Outside, I’m the picture of composure. In here, it’s going crazy – it depends on where she starts. If she starts at the bottom, I’d be like, “Tickly feet, tickly feet. “Oh, she’s gone up to the bit where I’ve got broken veins, “I don’t like that bit. “Oh, too close to me fanny! Too close to me fanny!” So I’m lying there, covered in “happy”. LOUD LAUGHTER Very different version of Snow White than we’re used to, yes? And the massage ends. She did what they always do, she put like a chocolatey voice. She said, “Just relax, there’s plenty of time. “There’s no need for you to rush. “Please just stay relaxed, there’s so much time. “I just want you to stay relaxed, there’s no need for you to… “Please just stay relaxed.” What she didn’t know is I’d been dying for a fart for 40 minutes. The door had barely clicked shut when I let out the loudest, most trombonious fart you’ve ever heard in your life. Remember, I was covered in oil. It was like a Salvation Army band had popped in. And I am right in the middle of potentially the best fart of my life, when she came back in with a glass of water. And I half expected her to go, “Is that curry? Is that curry? “Is it curry? Is that curry?” And if she had, I’d have gone, “No, love, that’s happy.”


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