Ep 14: Rachael and Aussie comedian Jim Jefferies ramble at each other like only comics could
You'll never have to wonder what it's like to be a fly on the wall as you get a glimpse into this entertaining, rambling exchange between two new friends who happen to also be stand up comedians. Australian comic, Jim Jefferies joins Rachael for Be Here For A While, poor shaming her before she can even intro him properly! Laugh along with these two as they discuss comedy, living in LA, and pick on each other a big. Catch Jim's comedy special Freedumb, now on Netflix!
In this episode of Be Here for a While, Rachael O’Brien and Aussie comedian Jim Jefferies talk lumberjacks, broad shoulders, plastic cups and sloppy drunks (among other things).
For starters, we learn that Jefferies’ mother used to send them out every day with a hankie with his initials embroidered into the corner.
“That sounds a bit bougie,” O’Brien says.
“My mother had posh aspirations,” Jefferies explains. “My parents were poor—my mother was a school teacher, my father was a carpenter. I bought my parents a Mercedes last Christmas—and my mother can’t drive, because she’s old—but she still carries around one of the Mercedes keys in her handbag, and went on eBay to purchase a Mercedes keyring so that whenever she’s at the pharmacy or something, she’ll empty her purse like, ‘Oh I can’t find what I’m looking for’ so that people know that she owns half a Mercedes. Even though she can’t drive it.”
“I think she sounds awesome,” O’Brien says. “I respect that so much.”
While discussing Jefferies’ residency in Mt. Olympus (in the Hollywood Hills), both agree that it’s the worse when you can’t trust a drug dealer.
O’Brien’s love life also becomes a brief topic of conversation.
“He’s an agent trainee, at an agency,” O’Brien says.
“What, he teaches agents?” Jefferies Asks. “Like, secret spies?”
“No, like a talent agent! At a talent agency!”
Once that’s clarified, Jefferies professes his love for the TV show M*A*S*H.
“I bought the complete box set of M*A*S*H,” he admits.
“That’s what rich people do,” O’Brien says. “They buy box sets of things because you just don’t really know what to spend your money on anymore.”
There's a pause.
“There’s an element of that,” Jefferies concedes.
“You’re just like, “Well, I’m on Amazon, what can I buy? Ooh, I loved M*A*S*H, let me buy the box set,’” O’Brien continues.
“And then I paid a little bit extra to have it gift wrapped and sent a little card to myself,” says Jefferies.
“Did you really?”
“I really did.”
Their mutual love for The Wonder Years comes up, as well as a little bit of Wonder Years trivia.
Naturally, O’Brien asks about Jefferies’ storied career, which brings up a gem of an anecdote in which Jefferies is writing a scene in which he’s with a woman in a restaurant, and she doesn’t know the price of a drink.
“The funny thing about that was, in the script, you write something down in the script like this: I’m talking to Ginger Gonzaga who’s playing my girlfriend and is a very attractive woman, and so then, the other character is ‘Ugly Girl,’” says Jefferies.
“That’s so mean,” O’Brien laughs.
“When you’re sitting there typing, it’s no problem,” Jefferies continues. “But when you have to cast…”
“You have to cast them and then they read that?”
In case your were wondering, Jefferies says he often gets casting calls now for “Schlumpy 40 year old guy” and “Australian guy.”
Personal assistants come up, seeing as O’Brien has one, while Jefferies does not.
“Alright, you’re a better person than me,” says O’Brien.
“No, I just don’t get along with others,” Jefferies says.
“I can see that.”
And then we reach the real conflict of the podcast.
One night, O’Brien’s stand-up set was being filmed for the reality show of Vanderpump Rules when Jefferies happened to show up at the same comedy club. His special, Freedumb, had aired that night, so he was out celebrating.
“I did Jimmy Kimmel that night. I was a little drunk. I was having a fun time,” he says.
And then something happens involving mooning and Jefferies gets into a bit of a tiff.
He says, “You don’t get me kicked out of Comedy Clubs. I get me kicked out of comedy clubs.”
The two also have a bit of a back and forth over whether or not reality TV involves selling your soul to the devil. (Jefferies says it does.)
Ultimately, Jefferies says he doesn’t believe in the ten year rule. His comedic timeline looks a little like this: after four years you have to be a full time comic, after five comes the TV spot, and the nine year mark means it's time for a special.
“It’s never been easier to make it in comedy than it is right now,” says Jefferies. “The industry is going through a boom—there’s more famous comics than there’s ever been. It may take a little while, but there isn’t a single great comedian who hasn’t been given their shot.”