G’day, Jason. Aside from being egomaniacal narcissists, are there any myths about comedians you’d like to set straight?
Oh my God… what was that word again? Ego... what?

Egomaniacal. As in an egomaniac.
That’s lovely. But I’ve been asked before what comedian would I ever seek advice from, and my answer was: “None of ’em! They’re all ego-fooks!” Ha ha! They’re all self-centred clowns. I can’t defend them.

So what do you envy about Australia the most — the sunshine or our functioning economy?
Right now, I’m leaning towards the latter. Not the weather. Not since all your floods and cyclones. So yeah, let’s go with your lovely economy… y’know, the one China keeps afloat for you.
 
But how does Ireland ever run out of money — don’t you have a natural resource in the form of leprechauns and pots of gold?
You’re right. I don’t think that was taken into play when the economy crisis hit here. We all pushed for it. But the fookin’ leprechauns never showed up, did they?

Could we see another Great Potato Famine in Ireland, perhaps?
No. Potatoes grow fookin’ everywhere. The problem is people are showing up to banks trying to lodge them. But the banks just aren’t accepting them.

Hmm, not sure if ATMs are designed to dispense spuds, though...
Garlic potatoes are okay. You can get them in or out just fine. Or grate them.
 
You once claimed K-Rudd’s wife was retarded. Revised that opinion yet?
Ha ha! Well, I definitely did not say “retarded”. I said she was a very freaky-lookin’ woman who didn’t know how to dress herself. She looked horrendous whenever she stepped off a plane! Put it this way, look at Michelle Obama — she’s so glamorous! You’d definitely give her one. But poor ol’ Mrs Rudd? Jaysus… you wouldn’t go there! Rudd should’ve taken a few tips from Italy’s Berlusconi. I’d love to see Kevin at a big cocaine party with a load of beautiful hookers.

Do punters who sit up front at your show deserve what’s coming?
Well, the people who’ve never been to a gig before don’t realise, so they sit up front and have no idea what’s going to happen. But then there’s the punter who is a little bit “touched” and they want you to select them... and they’re fookin’ nuts. You really do not talk to them. Ever!

But how do you tell them apart?
Well, the crazy ones sit up straight and they look at you with wide vacant eyes. And I’m sure maybe one or two of them probably carry a weapon.

What’s been your toughest gig?
I once did a corporate gig for the British Hygiene Awards — they were the most boring fookin’ people ever! It wasn’t going well, they hated me, so I started taking the piss, making them angry...

But why’d they hire someone with such notoriously poor hygiene?
Exactly. I kept saying to them, “I bet you’d all just love to give me a fookin’ bath, wouldn’t you?”

So what happened?
So when it came to leave stage, I made a run for it out the exit door… but there was a Christmas tree in my way and I knocked it over, and the lights and tinsel and decorations went everywhere. Then I opened the door and... a fookin’ alarm went off! They were all just looking at me. Then I stepped out into the carpark, and it was raining, and I got pissed on. I hit the piss that night, let me tell ya...

And what’s your best gig?
This girl got up to go to the toilet. When she left, I said to the audience, “Let’s all hide.” So I got all 161 people to get up, leave their hats and coats, go out the exit door and hide in the alleyway ’til the girl came back. She came in. Went back out. And came back in, and sat in her seat, just sat staring at the stage. I could tell she was just tinking, “Well, this is not right, but I’ll just sit here and wait to see what happens.” Then I kicked the door in and she nearly died of a fookin’ heart attack. She literally shat her pants.

How have you dealt with hecklers?
This one guy — I went down, picked him up, threw him over my shoulder, and then opened the emergency door and pitched him out into the alleyway, and slammed the door. That was the best one. 

You’ve played some stellar film roles in your career, most notably Cork Man No 2 on I Went Down.
I’m hoping that I’ll end up like Morgan Freeman. When Hollywood finally needs someone old and shit, they’ll hire me: “This guy’s been auditioning for like 40 years — he’ll do!”

So you, er, want to play Mandela?
Yes! A white Mandela will do, and I’ll get my fookin’ Hollywood star!

What’s the shittest movie you saw?
Inception. I tink it was shit and brilliant. Mainly because the whole way I was going, “Oh, now I get it… oh, no, you’ve lost me there… ah, now I understand… oops, they’ve lost me again.” Until right at the end, when he spins the fookin’ top thing, and I’m like, “I have no fookin’ idea what that movie was about!”

Do you relish that queasy moment when another comic dies onstage?
Oh yeah. That’s hilarious. It’s kind of like somebody’s in trouble at school and it’s not you. But then all the comics that are two-faced will always go, “Oh man, you did really well, they just didn’t get you, is all.” But really, they’re going on the inside, “Woo-hoo, I’m not as shit as you!”

Do you have any obsessive-compulsive pre-performance rituals?
I used to have to wear the same shirt every night, but was fookin’ stinking by the end. Now, I have to walk the exact same route to the gig I walked the night before — it doesn’t matter where it is or how I got there, I have to do it.

They say that chefs come home and make toast. What do comedians do — cry themselves to sleep?
No, I come home and actually try to be funny in front of my family, and my kids are like, “You’re not onstage, Dad.” And my wife is like, “Fookin’ shut up, funny boy!” And hands me a shopping list.

What’s your take on WikiLeaks?
I just hope Assange doesn’t leak out anything that I’ve said. Because all I ever say is, “Prince William is a c**t!” and “Barack Obama is a paedophile!”

You’re touring Oz with a new stand-up show called Cirque du Byrne. What can we expect this time?
Well, there’s mass skipping with the audience, I tie people up with bras to see who can escape quickest, I climb into a giant pair of women’s underwear, a bit of stand-up in between, and finally a cool story about a Thai massage in Dubai.

Right. So it really doesn’t differ from Cirque du Soleil much at all, then?
No. Pretty much exactly the same. 

To catch Jason Byrne on his Aussie tour, see www.jasonbyrne.ie

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