
Comedian John Tothill takes confessions from his audience to absolve them of their sins.
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A
Hello and welcome to John Tothill forgives your sins. This is the show where I, John Tothill, eschew the nauseating barrage of self improvement in favor of your worse impulses and transgressions. And I'm here tonight to take your confession. Think of me as your high priest. And while not a real priest, I am really high. And where would a priest be without his parish? Look at you all. Thank God you're here. I asked my producer, Sasha to round up the most impure, immoral, feckless, virile, shameless, disgusting little freak she could find. And my God, she's done a good job, hasn't she? We all have those regrets. Whether it's an awkward faux pas at your girlfriend's work Christmas party or drunkenly insisting you can do a backflip straight into the chocolate fountain at your girlfriend's work Christmas party. Lifestyle gurus are constantly teaching us how to optimize our lives. Influencer Molly May once said, we all have the same 24 hours in a day. I say, not if I lose six of them drunk on sherry in my local Waitrose, waiting for them to put little yellow stickers on the fish cakes. Now, today's theme is the workplace. Now, the world is full of people trying to teach us life hacks for the workplace. I'm tired of Stephen Bartlett with his diary of a CEO. Sorry, that's the last diary I want to read. My favorite diaries, in order are Bridget Jones, Samuel Pepys, everyone else on Earth, and then Stephen Bartlett. Okay, workplace, what do we do for a living? What's your name?
B
Lucy.
A
Lucy, what do you do for a job?
B
Design festival.
A
Design Festival. Now, what that is, is two abstract
C
nouns
A
that you've so interestingly sewn together. Design festival. Say more.
D
You don't have to work in partnerships.
A
So sales. I blacked out. It's so hard, isn't it? Don't take this the wrong way. You know when someone starts to say sales, and it's like. You know when someone tries to explain the rules of a board game to you and you. I can't. I can't be honest. Anyway, what's everyone's favorite style of croissant? Three, two, one, almond. Okay, let's get on with. Let's get on with it. Let's get going with our first mischievous misdemeanor. Now, my genius producer, Sasha has gathered up all of your confessions before the show. I promise you, I have never heard any of these before, and I can't wait to get through them. So our first Confession comes from Nadia. There you are. Okay. Amazing. Now I will say, Nadia, in the final broadcast, in the interest of anonymity, we will blur your face. Okay, Nadia, what's your confession from the workplace?
B
I once caused a man to have the wrong body part treated in A and E.
A
Okay. Do you work in A and E or was this an accident?
D
I used to.
A
You used to work in the air?
B
Yeah.
A
That story checks out, doesn't it? Tell us what happened.
B
He was meant to have his lower leg, his shin, examined.
A
Right. And what actually happened?
B
Well, I was a student nurse at the time, and I wrote down. Cause I was a bit nervous and a bit dyslexic and I accidentally wrote down chin.
A
Oh, okay. Interesting. And so what happened?
B
Well, we were sort of flitting around as students, and I could see the man sat down and the casualty officer was like, open your mouth. Can you clench your teeth? And hit him, thinking, oh. And he looked a bit eyes up to heaven. And he obviously thought he was getting a really good job starting at the head first. And then the penny didn't drop with me until I saw him limping out of the.
A
Okay, I'm very sympathetic to you straight away and for two reasons. First of all, it's totally on him. Do we agree to be like, I think that's been everything. Thank you. He's got to learn to advocate for himself, you know, for God's sake. Second of all, it's hard, isn't it? Because you were a student nurse. You're doing a real job, aren't you? When people, like, with fake jobs don't take this the wrong way, but you know, Design Festival, you know, if the Design Festival goes wrong, it's not the end of the world. Because before I did this, because, I mean, as you can see, I don't work anymore. I don't consider this work. Civic duty perhaps, but not work. But I used. I used to work as a teacher, Nadia. And it's difficult because it is a kind of high stakes job, isn't it? I wasn't a good teacher. I should say. I was a really bad teacher. I was, in the words of one of my own students, a dog shit teacher. Terrible, awful. I was like one of those ones that, like, you know how in every primary school there's one particular classroom where you walk past it and you're like, okay, it's not that those children aren't learning, that those children are actually forgetting things they used to know, you know, really scary. But it's difficult because I'm Not a natural teacher, you know, and don't take this the wrong way, Nadia, but you don't sound like a natural nerd. If I had to have like my actual ideal job, I think I would have been a very good medieval nine year old morbidly obese boy king. Wouldn't that be nice? But I couldn't. You can't do that. I had to be a teacher and I had. I had to leave for school actually, in the end. Lucy, ask me why I had to leave the school. Because you were badly behaved. No, Lucy, I said ask me why I had to leave the school. No, don't help her. Lucy, please could you ask me why I had to leave the school? Why did you have to leave the school? Round of applause for Lucy. That's why I push you. So I had to leave the school because this modern agonizing notion of timekeeping and punctuality and contracted hours is entirely at odds with leading what Aristotle would have called the good life.
D
Yep.
A
If you ask the school why I left the school, it's because I kept forgetting that the days start in the morning. Absolute nightmare. And my whole family are teachers, by the way. But I was. I don't know if you come from a, like a dynasty of nurses. I don't know if you come from a dynasty of design festivals and maybe you do, maybe it's a sort of family thing. My parents are teachers, my grandparents are teachers, in fact. Okay, I'll quickly tell you this. My grandma, as in my mum's mum. You know how like in the English language it falls to like the children of every family to come up with a differentiating system between grandparents? Do you find that. So you get grown men like me being like. Yeah, well, when I was younger I couldn't really pronounce the word grandma. So in my family we just call my mum's mum gang bang
C
bang.
A
Absolutely fantastic. And so Maya Gangbang was a cookery teacher, Right. And she was a cookery teacher and her maiden name was Ms. Pyecraft. Isn't that so nice? Isn't that lovely? That'd be like me being called Mr. Has a Glass of wine at lunch and in the afternoon wheels out a trolley with a TV on. It makes the children watch. Makes the children watch chicken run hundreds and hundreds of times. Any teachers in before we will come back to Nadia. Any teachers. There's a teacher over here. Thank you for putting your hand up. God bless me as holiday for you. What's your name? Samantha. Samantha, and what do you teach? Primary or Secondary.
C
Primary.
A
You teach primary. God bless you. Quite right. Secondary school teaching. Terribly intellectually lightweight.
E
Yeah.
A
Do you know what I mean? Primary school teaching, Samantha. That's where it's at, isn't it? Because we are. This is the last haven of the polymaths. Do we agree? Yeah. Primary school teachers, the great generalists. Are we cooking with this? Yeah. The last living renaissance men and women of Europe pontificating as we do on all the great subjects. You know, flitting between French and food tech like a great multi headed God of wisdom. Fantastic. Joining the dots of knowledge. That's what you have to do, Samantha, isn't it? You know, what can the Battle of Hastings teach us about joined up handwriting? Very interesting, very interesting. Anyway, so, Nadia, did you get into trouble?
B
No one really realized because I managed to run after him because he was limping, so.
A
Oh, bless you. So you actually rectified this. I'm sorry, but you're an angel. I think that's fantastic. I used to get into so much trouble. There was one time when I was a teacher, I got called in for a meeting with the deputy head and she said, john, you and I need to have a meeting because every time you're late for the school, the message that that is sending to the children is that you value your time more than you value their time. And I said yes,
B
go on.
A
That's not what that means, by the way, if you're someone like me who's late for stuff all the time. It's not that you value your time, is it? What it means is. Five minutes before I was supposed to get to work, I treated myself to a sit down wee turned out to be a poo. Here's an interesting fact for you. The digital alarm clock was invented by the Nazi. Isn't that interesting? It's not true. But it is. All of this is to say, Nadia, for God's sake, if I can get a word in edgeways, is the workplace. It forces you to be someone you're not. And for that I think you deserve complete forgiveness. What do we think? Do we forgive Nadia?
B
Yes.
A
What do we say to Nadia? We forgive you. Round of applause for Nadia James. Confession? I think so. Where is Izzy? Okay, incredible Izzy, what's your confession for me?
D
So I was so bored during my receptionist job that I bought a craft project to do at the front desk and I super glued my arm to the desk and the paper.
A
So this was, this was a desk job.
D
It was my first job and I was a receptionist. I had to work quite late Right. It was just quite long. And so I would kind of just want to craft and like, do some things.
A
What do you mean by craft? Am I being stupid? What's. What do you mean by craft?
D
I decided to, like, kind of recover my diary with, like, kind of different bits of paper.
A
So I see, putting sort of like new wrapping paper around your diary.
D
Right, exactly. Because I didn't like the kind of COVID you used.
A
Super glue. So you put the glue on your arm? No, no, no.
D
I mean, I'd put it on. I'd put it on the paper and I tried to pick up the diary to have a look, but I was stuck.
A
And then how long were you stuck there for?
D
I think maybe like an hour.
A
No, an hour. And so this was in an office.
D
It was in an office.
A
But it was a quiet day at the office.
D
Yeah.
A
I'm so interested in these kind of office, officey jobs like that. I haven't been to an office in years because I'm a professional comedy writer, which basically means I'm a sort of stay at home dad with no kids. Do you know what I mean? It's interesting, actually. Freelance writing. You can wake up, sit down at your desk, blink, and you've been making scrambled eggs for hours, you know? Do you know what I mean? Work from home people. It's scary, isn't it? It really can. You know, you blink and you're Afrobeats. Dance class at your local. Sometimes I'll pretend I'm in an office. Izzy. I sometimes will put. Make like a workstation for myself. Do work from home people. Do you do this? You know, and some of you like office people. You might remember this from the lockdown, when we all worked from home, which I consider a kind of cultural appropriation, by the way. You know, I look at that and think, well, that wasn't really your thing, was it? That was my thing. You know, my flatmate was working for the local council. I've never seen so many desktop monitors. He brought in, you know, organizing bin collection. He looked like he was launching a rocket or something. Ridiculous.
E
Awful.
A
Sometimes, as a work from Homer, I will. I will venture out into the library. Libraries. Okay, let's quickly talk about those. Libraries have very good pr, don't they? You know, if you read about libraries, people are like, well, the library. For as long as we have libraries, we have civilization. You know, the library, this bastion of hope. You go to a library now, and it's a stack of Dan Brown books and a nappy change area being presided over by a Volunteer ghost. And then do you know what I've also done, Izzy?
D
I've.
A
I've occasionally tried to do working from home in a pub. Pub. Has anyone done this work from home? People. You ever try or maybe I'll go to a pub during the day. That's a disaster for a whole range of reasons. It's a nice place if you want to answer emails. Surrounded by silent men who move in slow motion. And the other scary thing is, in a pub at the daytime, at any point, in the toilets, someone's going through the unimaginable. And I don't just mean number twos, I mean number threes.
B
I.
A
People inventing number fours. Number fives, you know, pioneers. Really scary stuff. Even that. Even that, I think is better than an office. You know, you really, Izzy, you couldn't pay me to go into an office. I don't think I appreciate that is the point. You are paid to go into an office, but you couldn't pay me to go in. Do you still work in an office, Izzy? Do you still go in? Sometimes, yeah.
D
It's not that office.
A
No. Oh, thank God.
D
Okay.
A
Yeah, I see. Offices. It leeches the life out of you people, doesn't it? I always. There always comes a point on a Sunday when my office friends, they go, I've got to go home now. I'm in the office tomorrow. I've got to go home and prep my meals. I'm going to have some Bulgar wheat this week. I'll put that in little Tupperware coffins for food. Maybe I'll put some halloumi on it. That'll be fun. Halloumi is not fun. People. Wake up. Halloumi is fun in the same way that crazy golf is crazy. If I went into an office, I think, Izzy, I would. I'd buy a cheap lunch. Yeah, Four words for you. Scotch, egg, cream, egg. Can't do it. I just don't like all that meal prep stuff, you know? The office fridge. So sad, isn't it? Awful place. Go in Tupperwares everywhere. Like you're preparing for the apocalypse. Stand there, all of them labeled. Labeled Tupperwares. Katie. I hate that. Katie. Do not touch Katie. Katy. Funny name for a salad. I yell as I shovel my colleague's Nissan into my gaping maw.
B
So,
A
okay, Izzy, frankly, I don't blame you at all. If you're trying to add a bit of doldrums into the banality of office life, I don't blame you. What do we think? Do we forgive Izzy what do we say to Izzy?
E
We forgive you.
A
Okay. I think we've probably got time for one more confession. Have we? I mean, do they need the news again at 7? No. Probably the same as it was at 6 and it hasn't been nice recently. Okay, this next confession, I think I'd like to hear from James. Where's James?
C
Hello.
A
Hi. What's your workplace confession for us?
C
I was fired for going to Glastonbury twice.
A
A lot of posh people tonight, hasn't it? Amazing. So does that mean you were fired twice or you went to Glastonbury twice?
C
Two jobs, two different firings. So I had.
A
Okay, okay, right. What was the first job?
C
It was. It was actually a sales job. Interestingly not.
A
Interestingly not. But you don't always get fired for going to Glastonbury.
C
So I ran out of annual leave and obviously wanted to go. So did the sort of. Oh, I'm feeling a bit sick for a long time. Three days, I think.
A
Oh, that's huge. So you did a little trailer in the office. Being like, I'm feeling a bit peaky. So you're Moriarty. That sounds incredible. You're a genius.
C
Monday, Tuesday, sort of setting the scene.
A
God, that's amazing.
C
And then, so obviously, Wednesday, go have a really great time. Monday morning, get back in, quite conveniently, looking pretty terrible still.
A
Yep.
C
And my boss asked me how Glastonbury was.
A
No, no.
C
Yeah, he was a Facebook friend, so.
A
He was a Facebook friend. I didn't realize you were sort of in your late 50s. Now, that so far is a horrible story. But in the back of my mind, this has happened twice. So then take us through the next time.
C
So next, next year, sort of new job, same me,
A
did the same thing.
C
It worked so well the first time. So obviously laid the groundwork. COUGHING Monday, Tuesday. And then, yeah, Wednesday, went there, unfortunately, on Saturday, front of Lewis Capaldi, bumped into my new boss.
A
And so then on Monday, was there a sense of, like, what happened? Did he fire you at Lewis Capaldi?
C
I guess. Did you enjoy Lewis Capaldi?
A
Oh, God, yes.
C
You fired him.
A
Oh, God. Do you know what that reminds me of straight away? The rat who orgasmed to death. Do you know what I'm talking about? Are you all on the same page as me? I heard James, I thought, the rat who orgasm to death. Yeah, the rat who. Okay, this will take as long as it takes. So the rat who orgasmed to death was like a mad science experiment from the 1950s. Yeah, the golden age of mad science. You know, you Know one of those experiments you read about on Reddit where it's like, finally, after all these years, we've taught a butterfly to hate, you know, really nasty, horrible, cruel, horrible. So these two mad scientists called James Olds and Peter Milner gave a rat an ability to give itself an orgasm, right, by a kind of lever and electrodes that were then placed into the rat's brain and what resulted was probably the most interesting experiment in the history of neuroscience, until tonight. Because what they discovered is that the rats would press the lever as many as 7,000 times per hour and self stimulating male rats. Right, we've got to stop locking eyes now, James. Self stimulating male rats would ignore a female in heat and self stimulating female rats would cross over electric shock, delivering floor grids to press the lever again and again and again. And in the end the experiment had to be abandoned because the rats kept dying from exhaustion. Now that is what we call in the comedy industry relatable content. Have you ever felt more akin to anything in your life than a rat that will. If I had a lever that gave me 7,000 organ, well, I wouldn't be here for a start. Are we starting to draw the dots about where we're going here? About how that reminds me of James, do you know what I mean? This desire to do the same thing again and again and again.
D
Yes.
A
Expecting the same result. Quite right. Nothing wrong with that. Nothing wrong. I got into big trouble once when I was a teacher. There was this demon French teacher, James, and he was like, he was one of those colleagues who kind of messages you sort of near the end of the week being like, do you think you could sort of fit me in for one drink tonight? We went out immediately, had like six or seven glasses of wine and then he said, right, it's a school night, we've got to do the right thing. And I said, you're absolutely right. We've got to text the deputy head now, say we're not going to be in tomorrow so this can carry on. And you've got the kind of pretending to be sick. I love that thing of trailing to be sick, James. That's huge. Sometimes I'll send like a drunk text the night before. People think a drunk text is like a slurry affair, but it's not right. The drunk text is conspicuous by its over punctuation.
D
Right.
A
And it's taken you so long to write. And James, I fired off this masterpiece. You should have seen this text. It was like dear sir slash Madam
C
comma,
A
I trust you're well Y O, U apostrophe re. You're not gonna catch me out. I regret to inform you that I have succumbed to a terrible disease. You gotta try this, James. Which, upon consult with my family doctor, is either fatal or 24 hours. Keep you abreast of development. Yours, John Seymour Tophill. Seymour. Not my middle name. And of course, you know, there always comes that point, we think, oh, God, this isn't fun anymore, you know, Now I'm gonna have to face work tomorrow and what if I get found out and it's scarish. I remember that night, coming home, five o' clock in the morning. And the thing is, I live in London, so as you can imagine, I live with about 56 flatmates, you know, loads of us. Ridiculous. Which I quite enjoy, because if I lived on my own, I'd take up crystal meth. Never said that in my life. But if you live with flatmates in London. My bedroom is my only private space, which means my bedroom is filled with everything I've ever owned. And if you come in from a big night out, five o' clock in the morning, the room's sort of spinning around you. You get into bed, it's very difficult not to feel like an Egyptian pharaoh being buried with all his worldly possessions to afford swift passage into the next life. Weird. And I woke up the next day and I felt surrounded by McDonald's wrappers and flashing vapes and that kind of thing. I thought, oh, my God, is this worth it? And of course I. Of course it's not worth it. But what am I supposed to do? I am a rat. Yeah, I've had my orgasm and now I must face my death. And I see that in you so much, James. Was it worth it? Was it worth losing your job? Probably not, but it was inevitable. You know, of course I'm going to go back to Glastonbury. It was amazing. Okay, give us a cheer if we forgive James. What do we say to James? We forgive you. Proud of a boy, right, my darlings. My initial hope had been to get through about 20 confessions, but you've all spoken far too much. It's just so sad. Let's whizz through some of these quick fire style. Okay. I've never done anything quickly in my life, but let's see if we can do it right. This comes from Delilah. I had. I had a new sex toy delivered to the office on a work day and decided to charge it on my boss's desk. He wasn't there. God, I forgot about it overnight
F
and
A
had to sprint to the office in the morning to unplug it before anyone got in. I made it by 10 minutes. What do we say to Delilah?
E
We forgive you.
A
This comes from Anonymous. Okay. Instead of reducing the milk delivery order, I drank a liter of milk each morning before other colleagues noticed the excess. I don't know if we can forgive her. Not because it's bad, but because it's profoundly value neutral. Isn't it? What do we say to Anonymous? I agree. I think. Okay. Lorna says, I was so hungover on my commute, I threw up on the tube into a Gregg's bag. Told everyone next to me it was morning sickness. What do we say to Lorna? Here comes Lewis, age 30. He's written his age. That's good. Louis says I once sent an email to our office manager asking if she wanted a chocolate orange after a stressful day. That's nice. A colleague then informed me that I had sent it to everyone in the company, including our offices in Paris and Hong Kong.
B
Okay.
A
And Finally, I emailed 8 as my colleagues were having a lock in in the office and two of them got fired. Give me a cheer if we forgive them. Give me a cheer if you don't. Interesting. What a fascinating place to leave this. What have we learned, my angels? Well, the world is full of self improvement experts, and I don't use that term correctly at all, offering unsolicited advice on how to be more productive. Here is a genuine quotation from a lifestyle influencer called Ed Milet. In fact, can we play it?
E
My day is 6am to noon and I'm not crazy. You're crazy for thinking it takes 24 hours. Just like some dude in a cave did 300 years ago. My second day starts at noon and goes till 6pm that's day two. And then the next day is 6pm to midnight. What I've done now is I have changed and manipulated time. I now get 21 days a week. Stack that up over a month, I'm gonna kick your butt. Stack it up over a year, you're toast. Stack it up over five years. My entire life is different than it would have been otherwise.
A
My favorite bit of that is when he says, some dude in a cave 300 years ago. So since everyone is giving advice on the ideal working, I thought by way of conclusion to this, I would throw my hat in the ring. And to be clear, my hat is an Easter bonnet. I want you to take this advice as gospel, by which I mean would be better if sung by a choir. So first of all, wake up early. I really do think that it's good to wake up early. If you're like me and you struggle to wake up early, can I suggest have lots and lots of spicy margaritas the night before. You'll wake up with such a dry mouth.
D
Yes.
A
That your body will actually wake you up.
E
Yes.
A
Five o' clock in the morning, out of the bedroom on a quest for liquid.
D
Yeah.
A
Sometimes I'll just drink the vase water of my My friend's birthday bouquet. I don't care. Next. Wellness expert Wim Hof says you should begin your day with an ice cold plunge. I say I see your ice plunge, Wim Hof, and I raise you a boiling hot bubble bath and a beef bourguignon.
D
Next. Tip.
A
Beware of caffeine after midday. I have four full cafetieres at 11:59. That brings me up 12:01 Aperol Spritz number one. Yeah, that brings me down. I'm ready to work. 12:10. Work finished. Nothing good was ever done after 12:10. You don't need to do it now. People say be the first into the office and the last to leave. And I completely agree. First in, last to leave doesn't mean you have to be there for the middle. That's fine. And with that, my perfect little monsters, we're coming to the end of the show. God, I hope that tonight we've exorcised those horrible modern demons of self improvement in favor of being a human being. And I hope most of all that you've learned as much from me as I feel I have from myself. Thank you very much. You are forgiven. Go forth and do it all over again. Goodbye. John Tothill forgives your sins was performed by me, John Tothill. It was written by me and Eve Delaney and the producer was Sasha Vobak. It was a BBC Studios production for rad.
F
Attention animal lovers, haters and undecideds. A little birdie, a tit told me that you're looking for a podcast just like Evil Genius, but without all those stupid humans. I'm Russell Cain, waddling onto your feed and squawking about my show, Evil Animals. Every episode I'm joined by two human guests, or as I like to call them, ex monkeys, passing judgment on all the creepiest crawlies and the biggest elephants in the room. Our vampire bats, terrifying giant mosquitoes, our bottlenose dolphins, sex obsessed savages. And we're going there. Domestic cats, evil or genius? Pig out on evil animals in the Evil Genius podcast feed. First on BBC Sounds.
Date: June 22, 2026
Host: John Tothill
In this lively workplace-themed episode of John Tothill Forgives Your Sins, John Tothill invites an audience to confess their most amusing and embarrassing workplace misdemeanors. With his trademark wit and irreverence, Tothill creates a jovial, confessional atmosphere, dispensing forgiveness as a secular high priest—"not a real priest, but really high"—and skewers the modern cult of productivity and self-improvement advice. The episode mixes sharp observational humor, a few real confessions, and John's own stories about his checkered teaching career.
John Tothill turns the concept of workplace confessions into a hilarious exposé on the absurdities of work culture, self-optimization, and the pressure to be perpetually productive. Through audience stories, sharp self-deprecation, and ironic "guidance," he emphasizes embracing human foibles over clinical perfection. With warmth and an irreverent sense of camaraderie, Tothill offers blanket forgiveness and encourages everyone to keep making the same gloriously human mistakes.
Final Message:
"I hope that tonight we've exorcised those horrible modern demons of self improvement in favor of being a human being. And I hope... you've learned as much from me as I feel I have from myself. Thank you very much. You are forgiven. Go forth and do it all over again." (27:42)