The Pub Philosopher
Paul McCaffrey’s Guide to Life, Laughs and Late Nights
By Fred Spanner
With the sharp wit of a man who’s seen it all, from dodgy gigs in the arse-end of nowhere to sell-out shows at the Apollo, McCaffrey’s the everyman comic Britain didn’t know it needed.
Forget the slick, TikTok-trained wannabes, McCaffrey’s comedy is pure old-school gold: honest, relatable, and ruthlessly funny.
Loaded caught up with the star of Impractical Jokers to talk tours, terrible jobs, and why being a bit old and knackered might just be comedy’s greatest muse.
So how did you get into this stand-up malarkey?
I guess I was always acting the clown, at school and at work. I was always a fan of comedy, but not necessarily stand-up. I’d seen people on the TV, but I didn’t realise there was actually a job you could do outside of that.
I’d trained as an actor, and I still harbour ambitions in that sphere, but I remember working in Brighton in a call centre, and someone noticed there was a stand-up comedy course. It was a well-known one run by Jill Edwards, so I went along, and it taught me various aspects of stand-up comedy. I don’t think it taught me how to be funny.
I always find it weird talking about being funny. I always think the person I’m talking to thinks, “We’ll, he wasn’t all that funny.” You’ll just have to take my word for it. But I think that was always my thing. Do you know what I mean? That kind of, “You can say what you want about me, but don’t say I’m not funny.”
Anyhow, the course taught me how to put a set together, and there was a showcase gig at the end of it, which you’d do. That was my first gig at Comedia, which is a really great club. On the day, I was so nervous. I mean, I’d never been that scared in my life for anything. On my way there, I was thinking of phoning with an excuse like there’d been a bereavement, or something. Thankfully, it went really well.
Are you quite disciplined now?
I’ll be honest, I’m getting better at it. When I started, it was the most I’d applied myself to anything. I was 31 when I did my first gig. Before that, I’d been partying and running a bar in London. They were jobs that just allowed me to have a good time, really. I’d mucked around at school, but Drama school was different. I did a post-grad program for one year, and by the end of it, I wished I’d done a three-year program, because I was just starting to get into it.
Finally, when I started doing stand-up, I got that sense of pride and thought this was something I was actually good at. It felt good. I knew it was something I wanted to do well at.
When I started out, I was just thinking about those five-minute sets, and I feel I’m back in that place again when I’m getting excited about those bits again.
Are there any subjects you feel are off limits?
I guess so, but I’m not that sort of comic. There are some acts who think it’s okay to joke about anything, but I think, “Why would you want to?”, but I’m not really the person to get involved in that. It’s just not my kind of comedy. I’m the kind of person who says you can joke about anything, but then sometimes I see something and I’m not so sure. It’s just personal taste.
I know it’s a question people love to ask. I play golf sometimes, and I get told how hard it must be for a comedian these days when you can’t say anything, but I don’t think it’s as bad as people outside comedy think it is. When you see some of the stuff people are saying, you wonder what else there is to say. What is it they want to say that’s not already being said?
The Nutty Professor was on telly today. I’m not sure they’d be able to get away with that so much these days. You’d struggle to make a comedy film where the butt of the joke is about being fat. I think that debate has maybe run its course a bit.
What was it like being on Impractical Jokers? It looked like the best job in the world. I think my favourite sketch was when you were working in the bakery, but you refused to sell anything to anyone. You kept telling them that it was your lunch.
It was great fun. I loved it all, and I wish I’d done more of it. People can get a bit sniffy about the hidden camera, but I think its heart was in the right place. The joke was always on us. It wasn’t like Beadles About- which I actually enjoyed, by the way. The joke was squarely on the person who was being told what to do.
Beadle became the most hated man in Britain at one point.
Yeah, I always thought that was a bit unfair. I used to really like the Gotchas on Noel’s House Party. There was one where they got Lionel Blair. He was in a play, and they had someone in the audience pre-empting what he was going to say next. Blair was losing his shit. I sometimes look that one up on YouTube. It’s just so funny.
“Lionel, isn’t your sister coming round in a minute?”
“Do you mind??!!”
Pranksters are taking it to a whole new level on social media. It’s a hard watch on there, sometimes. There are people going out there risking getting their heads kicked in.
There’s quite a funny one I like where a guy puts a bucket on someone’s head when they're not looking. The catch is that he also puts a bucket on his own head so the victim thinks it’s been done to him, too.
There’s a new app that makes it look like there’s a homeless guy in your house. It sounds horrible, but it’s quite funny. Then there are all these screenshots of a conversation saying that this guy said he knows you and he’s come round, he’s sleeping on your bed, etc.
The police in America have told people to stop doing it as they’re being inundated by 911 calls because of it.
You mentioned in one of your socials recently that the older we get, the more we fight to keep the party going. I think the phrase you used was, “90 is the new 30.” Should we give up, or is there life in the old dogs yet?
I’m not sure. I don’t know if it’s sour grapes on my part because I’ve had to knock all of that stuff on the head. I used to go out to the Andrew Weatherall festival, Carcassonne. It was all fifty years old and upwards. Some of these folk, there was no sign of them letting up. In actual fact, some were going for it more.
I still go to Glastonbury every year. It’s a different experience from what it was when I was younger, but I don’t know, fair play, do what you want, but it’s got to be taking its toll now, hasn’t it? For God’s sake, go home and have a biscuit.
The problem with me is that I’ve got no off button. Good luck at your daytime raves, but for me, going out at 10 pm and getting home at 8 am is better for me than going out at 10 am and getting home and 8 am.
I miss the 90s so much, though. Every time they do the top 100 songs of all time on Radio X, there’s a sneer of, “Oh, you just like this because you’re an old guy. You think things were so much better in your younger days.” At this point, with everything that’s going on in the world, no one of sound mind can tell me that things are better now than they were in the 90s.
You have a podcast with Seann Walsh, What’s Upset You Now? You mentioned the other day about the kind of kitchen roll men are mysteriously drawn to. It’s so true.
It’s the one with the blue check pattern. When I buy kitchen roll, it’s like I’m buying a new pair of shoes. It’s like, “What’s the ply on this?”
You’re heading out on tour in 2026. Are you looking forward to it?
Some venues are selling really well already. It’s always nice to know there’s going to be an audience. I did the Edinburgh Fringe twice since I last toured, so I’ve put all the best bits together. There are a couple of stories that will be running throughout, like the one about when The Libertines asked me to support them by doing some stand-up. You have to come to the show to find out how that played out.
Any guesses as to the winner of the Loaded Music Award this year?
I really like Saint Etienne. I love Glad. I saw them at Glastonbury last year, or the year before, and they are still so good. I saw Baxter Dury last year, too. He’s brilliant.
I know you’ve touched on this previously on your socials, but any predictions for this year’s John Lewis ad?
The usual stuff, I guess. Maybe there’ll be an appearance from the homeless man from the app.
Catch Paul on tour in 2026 with his new show, What a Time to Be Alive.