Title: Short Torso, Long Bum
acast Time: 1:28:52
Youtube Time: 1:28:10
Original Record Date: Unknown
acast Publication Date: December 23, 2020
Youtube Publication Date: December 23, 2020
Please Welcome a Man
Who’s in Santa’s grotto.
Richard Herring’s Loosening Santa’s Trousers Podcast
I was talking to Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer – it’s Christmas-themed – yesterday.
Guest Best Known
For being Wales’s sexiest man of 2010.
Better or Worse than Last Week: N/A
Like or Unlike Wikipedia: N/A
Member Member Note
What is your favourite Croatian Christmas carol?
Croatian? No, I did a – on Taskmaster I did an Eastern European song about a little match girl and a toothless goon that was, uh, who shot her shitting face off at the end of the song. And that didn’t go down very well. So, two glasses of wine, I probably shouldn’t be making up Christmas carols about Croatians. I mean, I’m happy to.
Do you think they have Christmas in America?
I, I’m a bit confused by it. I had this conversation with my wife this week; you know Sian. I don’t want to… Steady. Is it “holiday” or is it “Christmas”? Because we, we’ve seen a couple of Christmas-y things this week and, you know, I don’t normally go in for Christmas-y stuff, but this year has been so shit that I’ve been embracing Christmas since late August. And, uh, I’ve heard people talking about Christmas and I, I didn’t think they talked about Christmas. I thought it was “holiday”. So what’s “holiday” then? *RH suggests that the word “holiday” is used so as not to give offense to those who do not celebrate Christmas.* Is that what it is? Oh, okay. Is that what it is? Is that what “holiday” is? Is it a lay, kind of a secular… […] Do they have Christmas? I think they do have Christmas in America but, uh, I mean… Yeah, I think they do. What’s the answer?
Do you think that having sex with the Holy Ghost is cheating?
I am not a religious man. Church – I fucking hated church. I mean, is that bad to say that? I was made to go to church. Church was like… Church was like – This is how I looked at the weekend when I was a child: I thought, Saturday – alright. Saturday: Tiswas, Swap Shop, Game On. Bloody Gladiators, wrestling on a Saturday afternoon. Your grandmother getting dressed up, putting her best clothes on, coming downstairs to watch the wrestling. Mick McManus, Catweazle, Big Daddy. I was going to say Sugar Puffs. Not Sugar – Giant Haystacks. Not Sugar Puffs. Kendo Nagasaki. And then Sunday was like the fucking punishment for having enjoyed Saturday, wasn’t it? Sunday was, like… I mean, I dreaded Sunday to the point where I would have foregone Saturday and Friday night. I would have given up Friday night. We had sausages and chips on Friday night, we went swimming. That was a treat. And then Saturday was kids’ day. Your day; your special day. Like a small Christmas every week. I would have given it all up to fuck Sunday off. Discuss. My dad didn’t give a shit, thankfully. My dad, my dad died the other day and I did the wake a week or two ago. Um, but he as a committed… Ah, not an atheist, an agnostic kind of thing. So he didn’t give a shit, so he stayed at home. But my mother expected us to go to church and I hated every second of that tedious shit. Tedious shit. Nothing untoward happened to me, I have to say. But it was tedious shit. *RH asked whether RG had to get dressed up.* No, Christ no. I don’t think my dad would have let that happen. He was happy for us to – Like, it was a compromise. My mum took us to church but my dad wouldn’t have allowed that, I don’t think. My dad, my dad… My parents were married for 58 years, and my mum died on their 58th wedding anniversary of Alzheimer’s. And recently, just before my dad passed away the other day, he’s not religious at all. And he said to me, he said, “I’m looking forward to seeing your mother again.” And I was like, “What? I know you’re grieving but what are you talking about? You’re not a religious person.” And then he went, “In oblivion.” Fucking hell. But that was his attitude, “In oblivion,” was his attitude. “She doesn’t exist.” That’s what he said about my mother after she died; 58 years of marriage on their anniversary. “She doesn’t exist.” So he passed away the other day and I, awfully, I sort of, I respect his wishes to not exist now. *RH reminds RG of the original question.* Do you mean is sex with the Holy Ghost cheating? Do you mean is it, is it cheating on my partner? Unfaithful, is that what you mean? I thought you meant is it cheating sexually, like, in some way. I was sort of robbing the idea of sex. Would I shag the Holy Ghost? Well, the thing is, what form is the Holy Ghost taking? There’s a lot of questions immediately. What form is it taking? *RH believes that the Holy Ghost often takes the form of a dove.* So a dove walks in, claiming to be the Holy Ghost. See, we’re already having difficulties. The dove walks in. My first thought is, right, hello? There’s a pigeon. No, it’s a dove. And then he claims to be. I said “he” – he, she, they – claim to be the Holy Ghost. And then what do they do? Do they sort of bend over provocatively and point to the back with their wing? Is that what they do? They sort of… *RH states that the question responder generally projects onto the question.* Oh, it’s all me, is it? Okay, fine. So the Holy Ghost walks in, as a dove. Dove says, “Hi Rhod.” “How’d you know my name?” He says, “I’m the Holy Ghost.” I think – I don’t know if I believe in the Holy Ghost enough to believe the dove. That’s not a no, that’s not a no. *RH says that if RG was caught in the act, he could use the Holy Ghost aspect as a mea culpa.* If my wife came in, right? And I was – Let’s assume – I don’t think we’d… What, am I upstairs or am I in the hall? So I’m, what, on top of the holy dove, the Holy Ghost? The dove is on top of me? What is it? […] So we’re in the hall. Let’s assume its missionary. The dove is on the floor and I’m on top of the dove. My wife walks in and says, “Hello, hello. Hello, hello. What’s going on here?” And I turn around and I say – What? Do say it’s only the Holy Ghost? It’s not how it looks. She’s the Holy Ghost. *RH expresses doubt the Holy Ghost takes the form of a dove.* Oh, well I think whatever form it’s in is material here. I think, I think if my wife came in and found me fucking a dove, I don’t think I’d even need the Holy Ghost excuse. I think she’d be fine with it. Fine with it.
Do you think Scrooged would be a better film if Bill Murray learned nothing from the ghosts and stayed just as he was at the start?
Well, I don’t think it would be a better film because if he was – They need progression, they need characters to learn, they need an arc, don’t they? But in term of, if you’re saying would, would you prefer Bill Murray not to have learned anything out of spite or entertainment value… But all films would be better in that sense, would they? If there was no arc and nobody learned anything. It’s a Wonderful Life – the best Christmas film of all time. Wonderful arc; he realizes he wishes he were dead, he jumps off the bridge, he gets rescued, he says, you know. And then suddenly he’s shown the wonderful life that he’s had and he realizes – If there was no arc, and he got rescued and then just all of it was downhill from there… *RH confirms that he would prefer that storyline.* I think that says more about you than Hollywood. Why are we starting with Scrooge? Why aren’t you starting with Dickens and all that?
What’s the worst thing that’s been drunkenly shouted at you by a friend or relative on Christmas Day? Or you could have shouted at someone else.
I once, I once… Clint Edwards, once – you know Clint Edwards? You know Clint Edwards – the comedian. Don’t you? Six foot five. Hunched, but six foot five on paper. Beautiful man. Stunningly handsome, wide-read, widely-referenced, intelligent. Wonderful human being. But he once made me seven espresso martinis over Christmas, which I drank, because I’m an idiot. And then – and this is one of the only times I got angry over the Christmas period. He um, made me these espresso martinis. We always go, Christmas and New Year, we always go down to Gower. We all have a little flat each and we meet up and have fireworks on New Year’s Eve. We do things over Christmas. And, ah, he made these espresso martinis for me. He wasn’t making them just for me. He was making them for everyone, but I don’t think anybody else drank seven espresso martinis. Especially – you know what it’s like at our age. You don’t mess with it. The system isn’t built, Richard, is it? For seven espresso martinis. No, no. The system now is just about capable of half a mug of Mellow Bird’s. Half a mug of chicory, warmed. Seven espresso martinis. And then, the next day – we sort of parted on that – and then the next day everybody went to a restaurant. We walked over the cliff path in the Gower. Beautiful beaches, passed all these beautiful coasts. And we went to this restaurant. And then – and they ate. Everybody – my wife, Clint, and everybody else. Barry Castagnola was there. Uh, I think Greg might have been there; I don’t know. We all ate. And then I didn’t eat. I wasn’t feeling quite well enough. And then we left. I had a glass of water, if I remember. The we left the restaurant, and I had a mile to get home. And it was at that point that the espresso martinis hit me. Roughly twenty-minute, pitch-black run across the cliff path. And I said, “I’m not going to make the toilet.” And I set off apace ahead of everyone else, with my phone as a torch. Twenty minutes across the cliff path back to this flat. Just about made it. Got to the door, got the key in the door, got in the door, got in the bathroom, put the toilet seat down, and then shat myself everywhere. Just filled my trousers, both sides. Like a piping bag. This is one of the few times I got angry over Christmas. And then, and then had to stand there until everyone else got back. And then I heard my wife shout at them, “Come in the front door.” And the front door was immediately by the toilet. So I had to sort of call out and ask her to pass through some bin bags. Just black bin bags, which I then had to stand in and get changed. Like, all of my clothes like a magician. Like one of those things you had at the beach in the seventies. You know, one of those things your mother got changed in at the beach. I changed everything into this bin bag and then I handed the bin bag out to Sian for her to dispose of. And I spent an hour cleaning up the bathroom. And then I handed her my hat. It had gone up my hat, for some reason. Or just my bobble hat. It was up the back. You know, like a baby’s – I haven’t got kids, but I’ve heard people say, “Well, it went right up their back; up the back of the nappy.” This was like that, but a grown man up through his trousers, up underneath the fleece and t-shirt, and on the back of my hat. So I passed her that out, and this is true love. Remember those stickers you had on your things as a kid? “True love is…” Rinsing out your husband’s hat in a sink over Christmas ’cause there’s shit up the back of it. That’s true love. That is true love. And I was really angry with Clint Edwards. And that, I think, is the only time I’ve been angry with anyone. Because I was, like, why the fuck did you make seven espresso martinis? Who has seven? It’s not like he’s in his twenties. He’s younger than me but who has seven? We’re not – You can’t do that.
This episode was live-streamed via Twitch, with RH and guest in each of their own homes due to COVID-19/coronavirus.
Twitch background: Santa’s workshop.