Hello Glenn. How are you? I’m good. I just turned 35 yesterday and I’m answering questions from a host of Australian publications. Sorry, you didn’t think you were the only one did you? It’s just, I need my column space.
We are a little hurt, but we can forgive. Which question do you least like being asked in interviews? The “how’d you get started?” is the standard one that is annoying. I went to an open mic night because I was funny. I’ve been so bored with that question that I’ve told a reporter I was sentenced to it by a Canadian judge as part of a community service programme over a “driving under the influence” charge.
How’d you get started? I wanted to be an astronaut, but in those days women weren’t allowed to be, so I got a sex change and realised I was making the nurses laugh with a version of “got your nose” that involved my old penis and their noses. The rest, as they say, is history.
You’re Canadian, but you live in the UK. What’s all that about? I’m a spy.
Do you consider your sense of humour more British or Canadian? Neither, I’m just funny. The older I get the more I realise what a crock of shit nationalism really is.
You were described in a UK newspaper as looking like “part biker, part roadie, part mildly porky porn star”. Fair cop? I’ve lost some weight since then. But yeah, if you’re wondering what I look like and you don’t have the ability to see then, yup, it’s a pretty fair assessment.
Do you change any of your material for different audiences? Not really, although I did a show at the Melbourne Comedy Festival about the location of hell, which I called “Where is Hell?”. When I took it to Edinburgh I changed the name to “You Don’t go to Hell For Eating Elephants”. I don’t know why, I just did.
Any favourite memories from last time you visited Australia? I got stuck in a rip tide and didn’t know what it was, so I fought against it, which is apparently the wrong thing to do. Unless you’re me. Because with my fine collection of bone and sinew my body sang in a muscle choir and I defeated the sea. That’s right, the ocean is my bitch.
Is there any particular part of Oz you’re looking forward to seeing this time around? I get to see my girlfriend as she is doing some gigs in Brisbane and she’s coming to see me after them. That’ll be good. She’s lovely and I miss her.
A lot of your material is about your ex-wife. Is she happy about that? Nope.
Do you feel pressure to be funny when you’re off stage? Not really, but then I’ve reached an age where I don’t really hang around anyone I don’t like, so it loosens you up to say what you want.
Do you ever get tired of taxi drivers telling you their favourite jokes? Have you ever lied about your profession? I once lied at a party and told people I was a plumber and they all started asking me plumbing questions. I told one dude I’d come by and take a look at it his can. Weird night. I left early (which never happens).
Are you frightened that one day you’ll run out of good jokes? Not really, funny things happen to me and I notice them. If I lost the ability to notice things it would probably be a sign of a degenerative brain disease and much more an omen then a worry.
If you weren’t a comedian, what would you be doing? Working sales and hating myself, probably building some sort of lair in my basement.
Why should we come and see your show? Because it’s time for you to show yourself a little love. Glenn Wool is playing the Comedy Store Sydney from Tuesday-Saturday, September 29-October 10; tix from $10 (on Tuesdays). More info at www.comedystore.com.au