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Good morning, good afternoon or good evening, depending on where you are on the planet. This is ill advised by Bill Nye. I am Bill Nye and I'm here returning to my quest, which is to answer your questions and not actually make things worse. This is a podcast for people who don't get out much and when they do, they wish they hadn't. If you wear shorts to the theatre and are drawn to the manosphere, there's nothing for you here. Thank you for all your questions, but do try and remember that I know as much about the world and how to answer your questions as you do. If you ever catch me answering questions on anything serious like sexual relations or how to get ahead in business, call a cab.
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Hi Bill, this is Sarah calling from the Cotswolds. I live in a cemetery, which wasn't disclosed on the listing, but I'd flown in to view the property. It was within my budget and I liked the dead. Quiet. My problem is that couriers usually won't deliver packages, thinking no one would be mad enough to live in a cemetery. I once had a spook cab driver leave me outside the gates at 2am as he didn't want to answer, and a late night pizza delivery guy boarding delivery thinking he was being punked. There's no house number, but the previous owners graciously changed the name from Cemetery Lodge to something a lot nicer. But I feel I'm doomed to mishavishim it out in my later years. Pizza and packageless. Any suggestions?
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Well, we've had a quick conference here on your behalf, Sarah, and we all seem to agree that you should buy a pizza oven. And if you don't want to buy a pizza oven, then you should get in the car and go to the pizza restaurant. I don't believe in takeaway food and I don't believe that food generally travels and pizza really doesn't travel. But then there are some people who like last night's pizza for breakfast, but I think you have to be under 17 for that and you need to do it with a can of, you know, Diet Pepsi probably. Or Red Bull, Maybe Red Bull. And last night's pizza for breakfast. That's a youthful way to start the day. It's got everything. It's Got vigor, it's got carbs, you know, it's got speed, it's got everything. Either that or you need some kind of bell, don't you? Like some system whereby you can be alerted to the fact that there's someone at the gate, but that doesn't seem to be the answer at all. Or can you go to the nearest post office and get a post box address or something? Anyway, I think it's great that you live in a cemetery and that you're not spooked in any way by it. I used to hang out in a cemetery when we were young. We all hung out in a cemetery after the pub because there was a cemetery on a hill where you could look out across the valley where I grew up and we would lounge on gravestones and talk, you know, youthful nonsense. I think probably a lot of sex happened in the cemetery as well, which is kind of great because there you have the circle of life. I never had sex in the cemetery, but then I never had sex. I've managed to not have sex in all kinds of places. Hi, this is Kim from the Netherlands. I think you're one of the best dressed men out there. So I'm just curious, who do you think is the rock star that dresses best? Kim, thank you for your kind remark, and this is an easy question for me to answer, because in my view, without question, the best dressed rock star of all time was Charlie Watts, the drummer of the greatest rhythm and blues band the world has ever known, the Rolling Stones. And one of the things I admire, I admire everything about Charlie Watts, but one of the things I admire is that he didn't go to pieces during the 70s and the 60s or indeed the 80s. And he would drum for the Rolling Stones on occasion in a three piece suit with short hair and a shirt and a tie, which was, I can't tell you, as someone who was around at that time, I can't tell you how radical that was. I remember the first time I ever had a job as an actor for money. I had to have a short back and sides in about 1970. And I took my girlfriend to the Isle of Wight Rock festival where about 600,000 people gathered to hear Jimi Hendrix and various other artists. And it was like I might as well have had a communicable disease. Everywhere I walked, this crowd of people would just part and open and let me go by. And I ended up sitting in a large empty circle with my girlfriend with all the people with long hair sitting around staring at us because they assumed that I had to be either a police officer or a member of Her Majesty's Armed Forces, neither of which were that popular or welcome in the context of the Isle of Wight Rock Festival. And eventually one bloke in an army greatcoat with very long black hair and a stove pipe hat came out of the crowd with a joint in his hand and offered me the joint as if to say, smoke this and your hair will grow. And of course I took the joint just to be polite, but obviously, ladies and gentlemen, I didn't inhale or anything of that kind. But all the way home, on the boat, on the ferry, I was shunned by my contemporaries. No one came near us. Only my girlfriend, who was loyal, was prepared to associate herself with me. So I don't know what happened to love, peace and understanding. But it didn't survive my haircut. But Charlie, who had infinite class, he did survive when everyone else was falling apart. And I only met him once. And I was walking down in wintertime down Bond street and somebody said my name, somebody said, Bill. And I turned around and it was Charlie Watts. And the fact that Charlie Watts knew that I was called Bill was kind of thrilling. More than kind of. It was thrilling to me because he's a serious figure in my life. And he leant forward and he took my lapel. I was wearing a reasonable suit. He looked absolutely sensational. He was a regular customer in Savile Row and he had several tailors that worked for him constantly. And he looked absolutely impeccable. He had a wonderful overcoat, bespoke obviously, and a three piece suit and a collar and tie with a bar, a brass bar through the collar and a tie over it in the old time tradition. And he felt my lapel and he said, you're an actor, you're supposed to be skin. And I said, well, things looked up. And he said, I'm glad to hear it. And then he got in the car and drove away. That was the entirety of my contact with Charlie Watts, but it was kind of perfect as far as I was concerned. It was exactly long enough. And it was about something that we both shared an enthusiasm for. I once went into a tailor in a basement in Savoro that I knew Mr. Watts used, and I said to the governor, has Mr. Watts been in recently? He said, Mr. Watts has 10 items in the process currently. One of those items was like, you know, thousands and thousands of pounds. Charlie Watts sadly passed away not long ago. I read a biography of him and he said that he'd broken so many wardrobe rails in hotel wardrobes that he had his own wardrobe constructed. It was a huge traveling wardrobe that you would open out into three bits, I think, and then down one side would be the suits hanging and the other side would be the shirts. And in the middle there would be drawers with socks and underwear in. And Charlie thought it was a crime to roll a pair of socks. He would only ever fold them in two, having pressed them. And between each pair of socks there would be a layer of tissue paper. This is on tour with the Rolling Stones. And he had the same arrangement at home. And if his wife and daughter wanted a laugh, they would run upstairs, go to his sock drawer, ruffle it about, and then run away. And then later, when Charlie went to the drawer, you would hear a roar from upstairs as Charlie realized what they'd done. But without question, there was no one as stylish as Charlie Watts. I have observed that the 50s, when I was growing up was generally dismissed as the dull, gray decade where nothing stylish happened. And people would say, you know, Elvis Presley came along and the world turned into color. And the 50s were black and white. Well, I dig black and white for a start. But also, if you look at 50s photographs of, say, Miles Davis or Frank Sinatra or Bill Evans, you can't be any cooler than that. Black suit, white shirt, black tie, and in Bill Evans's case, black glasses. You just can't. You look at Miles Davis, Juliet Greco once said, who couldn't speak any English and neither could he speak any French. And they had. I apparently had an affair, very successful affair. When he went to Paris, she said, you just had to look from the wings at the silhouette. It was just breathtaking. And then the 60s came along and even Frank Sinatra wore a mini caftan with beads when singing with the Fifth Dimension. And you think, gentlemen, you had it so right, you know. And Bill Evans started to grow his sideburns and wore suede safari jackets. And I regret that on their behalf.
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Hi, Bill. My name's Ling. I'm from Vietnam. So I recently discovered that my 84 years old grandma has been unplugging her washing machine after every use for her entire life. Do you reckon that this is socially acceptable or should I do something about it? I'd love to hear about your washing machine situation as well.
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Thank you, Lyn. Hello. Thank you for your question. I'm not quite sure about the social acceptability of turning off your washing machine in between uses. I've never heard of anyone doing it. I suppose it's in the tradition of turning Everything off in the old paranoid way that you don't leave anything electric switched on around the house in case of fire. And I did see a fire truck going by the other day with a picture of a plug with flames coming out around it saying, switch it off. It's a danger. So it's a modern thing. It was not just my mom who used to do that. And you're asking a very personal question about my own relationship with washing machines. And I forgive you for that, because obviously you've got concerns about your grandmother, and it's all within that context. I don't have a washing machine. I've never owned a washing machine machine. It's like, I don't own, really own an oven. I do now have a kind of oven. I have a small grill stroke oven thing that you might find in a tent. But it's the sort of thing you'd have at a campsite. And it's never been used. It's never been turned on. It's a new development because for many years, in my last apartment, I didn't have an oven at all. But I did have a hob, which also. I don't know why that makes me laugh. I had a hob, which also never was, never used. And the only reason I had it was because when the builders were there and they were taking away the old oven, it was a new phase of my life. And I'd never really made these decisions before. And they said, when's the new one coming? I said, sorry. And then I realized in the moment that there was never gonna be a new one, because who needs it? They're kind of ugly. And I didn't want one, you know, hanging around in my kitchen. So I said, well, no, there won't be a new one. And my daughter was there, and she said, like, she said most of the time in those days, dad, don't be weird. So I had a hob in order not to be weird, but I never used it. And then one day my daughter came in. She said, this isn't a kitchen. This is a library. Because the hob was just covered in books anyway. So I don't have a washing machine. I'm decadent. I send it out. When I was young, I used to be in digs a lot. And I was in one particular digs in London at 33 Cromwell Avenue, Highgate, where the other residents had a laundry system or a laundry service. And a van would come, and they all had boxes, like these sort of oblong boxes with a leather strap tied around it and their name on the lid. And I thought, if I ever make any money, I'm having one of those. So now I have one of those because I made some money and you put it in this box and it goes outside the front door. You never see it again until it comes back. I would tell you how it comes back, but the word that I would employ to tell you how it comes back has been recently, not so recently put on the banned word list. But I may ask the permissions committee if we could make an exception in this case. Hang on one moment. Yeah, the permissions committee have decided that an exception can be made on this occasion. So I can say that my laundry comes back sheathed. Every single item is sheathed. And it's so glamorous to me. And when you pack, and I have to pack all the time because you're always going somewhere in my job, you just go, swish, swish, swish, swish, swish. Five shirts. Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang. You can pack them like books and similarly with T shirts. And it's all very, very glamorous. So my relationship with washing machine is non existent, but I have a deep relationship with the laundry service and with dry cleaning. I am a committed dry cleaner. If it stands still for six seconds, I dry clean it everything. I run my wardrobe like a fascist state. Hi, Bill. I'd be interested to hear your thoughts on the correct attire for swimming at the beach. In particular, any advice in relation to the dilemma between Budgie Cyclers and board shorts would be welcome. Yeah. Brad, did you ever come to the wrong guy? I haven't been in swim attire or owned swimming trunks this century and before that. So I'm not your man, really. I'm not even going to repeat the phrase that you used in the question because for a start, my colleagues won't survive it because they are basically, with no disrespect to children. They are children, but I know what you mean if you're talking about Speedos. There's something about me that when people talk to me, if I ever indicate that I exercise at all, the first thing people do, and they try not to because they're nice people, but they try not to. But the first thing they do is laugh. And they laugh quite, you know, properly and sort of, you know, at length. And the second thing they ask me is, what do you wear? Like, you know, I'm going to be dressed in a suit in a gymnasium or something, you know. And similarly, there are certain people, one of whom is not far from Me at this moment, actually, Brad, who I can barely have a business conversation with without at some point, she will mention speedos. She will mention Speedos or Lycra. Yeah, Lycra is another matter. But pertinent to your question is Speedos. Because the thought of me in speedos is apparently unsurvivably funny, which I can't deny I would say it's unsurvivably sad. But, you know, each to his own. So, yeah, you came to the wrong guy if you're going to go on the beach and if you cut off a pair of jeans, that's it. That's all she wrote. Job done. Now, welcome to Ill Advised by Bill Nye's Banned Word List. And we have been inundated with suggestions to ban certain words from the English or any other language. And this week's words are mucus. I. I'm a mouthpiece. I just report. But I think I kind of. I'm behind that one. Kiddie. I think that's absolutely. It's long overdue to ban the word kiddie. K, I, double D, Y, mani, pedi, which also should be. Obviously, should be banned. That refers to manicure. Slash, if you pardon the expression. Slash. Slash pedicure. Actually, slash. Maybe that's a bad word. I don't know. Gotten, which I presume means instead of I got, you would say I've gotten, which is obviously not a word in the first place, so it should be not encouraged. And. Yeah, and I thoroughly agree. Doggy bag. Give me a break, really. How did it ever catch on? Anyway? Too late now. It's go. This week's playlist is called Not Quite Evening. And the first track comes from the Jesus and Mary Chain, which I still think is one of the great band names of all time. And the track is called Sometimes Always, which contains the couplet. If it's okay to say that I won't get on my knees, don't make me do that, please. Which I find just. It scans nice. The next song on the list is from Phoebe Bridges, somebody I particularly admire. And the song's called Would you'd Rather? And the chorus is what you call curious. And it goes, I'm a can on a string, you're on the end. We found our way out of a suicide pact over family and friends. The next song is from a country artist, probably americana, called Laurie McKenna, who I like a lot. The song is called We Were Cool, and some of the lines in it are Duran Duran on the radio, the Wild Boys in the days Ago, I was sitting on his right. On his left was a fresh tattoo. Oh, man, we were cool. His daddy had a drinking problem. My daddy worked way too hard. Now, the next track is from Taylor Swift. Yeah, Taylor Swift. And it's a very, very early, kind of really not kind of country song, which called Tim McGraw. And for those of you that don't know, Tim McGraw is a major, major country star. And it's a very sweet song about a love affair. And guess what? A pickup truck that had a habit of breaking down on the back roads late at night. Oh, yeah. Anyway, it's a nice song. And it arrived on an old ipod of mine in New York years ago. And I never knew who put it there or how they got it there, because it just sort of arrived one day and I thought, who is Taylor Swift? The next song is by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds. And it's one of my favorite love songs of all time. And it's called Love Letter. It opens with, I hold this letter in my hand A plea, a petition, a kind of prayer I hope it does as I have planned Losing her again is more than I can bear. And the final song is from one of my favorite singers and writers of all time, Van Morrison. And it's a song called Crazy Face, which is a mysterious song. And I once read an interview where he was asked about it, and he kind of just said, I don't know where that came from. And it has one of my favorite saxophone solos on it, which I think. I don't know, but I think it's played by Van himself. And the majority of it is on one note, which is part of why I like it. Anyway, he sings the same verse twice, and he does it beautifully. This episode's book is by Walter Moseley, and it's called Devil in a Blue Dress. If you were to read this book, which features Walter Mosley's hero, EZ Rawlins, who is a war veteran who comes home from the Second World War to Los Angeles having been in combat. And if you liked it, you would thank me because there are, I don't know, maybe 20 more featuring Easy Rawlins. And they're all good, and they're very good about being black in America, in Los angeles in the 1940s, immediately after the war, the 50s, the 60s, and the 70s. I think we make it to the 70s, and they're superior novels, and I highly recommend them. As it says on the front, a damn good read. And I'm going to read you the first two or three pages this is Chapter one of Devil in a Blue Dress, which was made into a film, and Easy was played by Denzil Washington. I don't think I've actually watched the film and I don't know that. I don't know how successful it was, but there was. You would imagine there would have been more, but they've never been made. Chapter One I was surprised to see a white man walk into Joppy's bar. It's not just that he was white, but he wore an off white linen suit and shirt with a Panama straw hat and bone shoes over flashing white silk socks. His skin was smooth and pale with just a few freckles. One lick of strawberry blonde hair escaped the band of his hat. He stopped in the doorway, filling it with his large frame, and surveyed the room with pale eyes, not a color I'd seen in a man's eyes. When he looked at me I felt a thrill of fear, but that went away quickly because I was used to white people. By 1948 I'd spent five years with white men and women from Africa to Italy, through Paris and into the fatherland itself. I ate with them and slept with them, and I killed enough blue eyed young men to know that they were just as afraid to die as I was. The white man smiled at me. Then he walked to the bar where Joppy was running a filthy rag over the marble top. They shook hands and exchanged greetings like old friends. The second thing that surprised me was that he made Joppy nervous. Joppy was a tough ex heavyweight who was comfortable brawling in the ring or in the street, but he ducked his head and smiled at that white man just like a salesman whose luck had gone bad. I put a dollar down on the bar and made to leave, but before I was off the stool, Joppy turned my way and waved me toward them. Come on over here, Easy. This here's somebody I want you to meet. I could feel those pale eyes on me. This here's an old friend of mine, Easy, Mr. Albright. You can call me DeWitt, Easy, the White man said. His grip was strong but slithery, like a snake coiling around my hand. Hello, I said. Yeah, Easy, joppy went on, bowing and grinning. Mr. Albright and me go way back, you know. He probably my oldest friend from la. Yeah, we go ways back. That's right. Albright smiled. Must have been 1935 when I met Chop. What is it now? Must be 13 years. That was back before the war, before every farmer and his brother's wife wanted to come to la. Joppy guffawed at the joke. I smiled politely. I was wondering what kind of business Joppy had with that man. And along with that, I wondered what kind of business that man could have with me. Where are you from, easy? Mr. Albright asked. Houston, I said. Houston. Now that's a nice town. I go down there sometimes on business. He smiled for a moment. He had all the time in the world. What kind of work do you do up here? Up close his eyes were the color of robin's eggs, matte and dull. He works at the Champion Aircraft up to two days ago, joppy said. When I didn't answer, they laid him off. Mr. Albright twisted his pink lips, showing his distaste. That's too bad. You know these big companies don't give a damn about you. The budget doesn't balance just right and they let 10 family men go. You have a family, Easy. He had a light drawl, like a well to do Southern gentleman. No, I said. Just me, that's all. But they don't know that. For all they know you could have 10 kids and one on the way, but they would let you go just the same. That's right. Choppy shouted. His voice sounded like a regiment of men marching through a gravel pit. Then people own them. Big companies don't never even come into work. They just get on the telephone to find out how their money is. And you know, they better get a good answer or some head's gonna roll. Mr. Albright laughed and slapped Joppy on the arm. Why don't you get us some drinks, Choppy? I'll have scotch. What's your pleasure? Easy. Usual? Joppy asked me. Sure, I said. When Joppy moved away from us, Mr. Albright turned to look around the room. He did that every few minutes, turning slightly, checking to see if anything had changed. There wasn't much to see, though. Joppy's was a small bar on the second floor of a butcher's warehouse. His only usual customers were the Negro butchers, and it was early enough in the afternoon that they were still hard at work. The odor of rotted meat filled every corner of the building. There were few people other than butchers who could stomach sitting in Joppy's bar. Joppy brought Mr. Albright's scotch and a bourbon on the rocks for me. He put them both down and said, Mr. Albright looking for a man to do a little job? Easy, I told him. You out of work and got a mortgage to pay, too. That's hard. Mr. Albright shook his head again men in big business don't even notice or care when a working man wants to try to make something out of himself. And you know, Easy always trying to be better. He just got his high school papers from night school and he's been threatening on some college. Choppy wiped the marble bar as he spoke. And he's a war hero. Mr. Albright Easy went in with Patton volunteered. You know, he's seen him some blood. That a fact? Albright said he wasn't impressed. Why don't we go have a chair Easy over there by the window. And so begins the big adventure. So that's about the size of it for this episode. Thank you for all questions. I hope you've enjoyed wasting some time. I hope we have successfully helped you take a break because that's our mission. Stay loose. And most importantly, don't forget to disco. Ill Advised by Bill Nike is produced by Alice Williams and Kiera Gregory with assistant production by Angelique Somas pronounced Somas and Charlotte Ross pronounced Ross R O S S and it's an Ipod Studios Production.
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Podcast Summary: “Smoke This And Your Hair Will Grow”
ill-advised by Bill Nighy (EYEPOD Studios)
Episode Date: April 30, 2026
In this episode of ill-advised, Bill Nighy offers his signature blend of dry wit and thoughtful tangents to address listeners’ questions about exile-like living, style icons, laundry habits, appropriate swimwear, and more. Along the way, Bill shares pleasingly off-beat stories from his youth, imparts sartorial wisdom, and introduces his playlist and book recommendation of the week—all with self-effacing humor and a distinct sense of compassionate detachment.
Listener Question: Sarah from the Cotswolds lives in a house in a cemetery and struggles to receive pizza and deliveries.
Bill’s Advice & Reflections:
Listener Question: Kim from the Netherlands asks who Bill thinks is the best-dressed rock star.
Bill’s Unambiguous Answer:
Listener Question: Ling from Vietnam wonders if her grandma’s habit of unplugging the washing machine after every use is socially acceptable.
Bill’s Take:
Listener Question: Brad asks for advice on beach attire, specifically “Budgie Smugglers” vs. board shorts.
Bill’s Wry Non-Answer:
Devil in a Blue Dress by Walter Mosley (from 25:39)
A perfect half-hour to squander in good company, with the invitation:
“Thank you for all questions. I hope you've enjoyed wasting some time. I hope we have successfully helped you take a break because that's our mission. Stay loose. And most importantly, don't forget to disco.” (32:32)