It’s a tough time to be a young person in
the world right now. I think it’s a tough time, and here’s why: I was writing on a TV show last year. At the end of the show, when it was cancelled, I checked my bank balance on my phone. And on my phone I saw that I had 5,421 dollars. Not to brag. And this is how little I know about being an adult. I saw the bank balance on the screen and I thought to myself, with no irony, ‘I should buy a house.’ Not a big house, one of those small 5,000 dollar houses. How is any millennial ever gonna own a home? How is any young person ever gonna own a home? It seems impossible and it’s made me hate old people. I see a few of you in here tonight. I hate you. ‘Cause every old person in a city like London or L.A. or New York is the same. They’re like ‘My house is worth 2 million pounds, but when I bought it in 1981 I paid 11 raspberries for it.’ And every young person’s like ‘I have 9 roommates. One has a dog with rabies, we’d love to get him out but his name is on the lease!’ And every old person like ‘I’m a librarian with a country home in the Cotswolds.’ Go fuck yourself. And then there’s criticism of young people like ‘Young people live on their phones.’ It’s the only place we can afford to live. I can’t enjoy certain television shows. Like I was watching Spongebob Squarepants with a younger cousin. 2 years younger, we love the classics. And I’m getting angrier and angrier ’cause I’m watching Spongebob and I’m thinking ‘This sponge owns his own pineapple! This sponge owns a two story pineapple.
Oh, he must be a banker.’ He’s not a banker, he works in a fast food restaurant. And his neighbour works with him in the restaurant lives in an Easter Island head. That’s a listed building, there’s no way he can afford that.