“My Autism Keeps Upsetting People” - Vittorio Angelone

He was vomiting every 30 minutes after being spiked, had a flight to catch, and knew he couldn't stand in security lines. He had previously used wheelchair assistance for a real ankle injury and realized they don't verify. He simply selected 'ankle injury' on the app. He felt a bit bad for the person pushing him, but believed he would have collapsed otherwise. He also didn't tell them about the drugging because he feared they wouldn't let him fly.

He was at an urgent care in Nashville, had signed in with 'persistent vomiting,' but people kept being called before him. He texted his mom, who said 'throw up in the lobby cuz then they'll escalate.' He didn't do that because the bathroom was right by reception, but he made sure they heard him. After that, they immediately came to see him.

He references Jordan Peterson's 12 Rules for Life, which he read at 22. When he was vomiting repeatedly after being spiked, he told himself to 'tidy my room and I'll be okay,' channeling Peterson's advice to get his life together. It's a mental reset.

After being spiked, he vomited every 30 minutes for hours. A friend suggested an IV clinic, but it was closed, so they went to urgent care. The staff suspected a spiked drink, common in Nashville. They gave him an injection that stopped the vomiting, enabling him to make his flight.

The realization was gradual: friends jokingly called him autistic, then he kept getting blindsided by negative reactions. He reached out to his GP, was told the NHS waiting list was 4 years. While touring, multiple autism practitioners in his audience offered free private assessments. The diagnosis showed elevated traits but incredibly high masking—essentially pretending not to be autistic. He explains that masking is why women are harder to diagnose, and he believes he has 'girl autism.' He also notes that comedy is a job where you say the same thing as if it's the first time, which is exactly what autistic masking feels like. He doesn't want to use the diagnosis as an excuse to be rude, but hopes being open will make people less upset if he messes up. He discusses the umbrella term: he has autism level 1 (formerly Asperger's), and finds it strange to share a diagnosis with nonverbal individuals. He mentions a possible co-morbidity with Ehlers-Danlos syndrome (hypermobility) and wonders if connective tissue differences affect the brain. He contrasts autism with ADHD, noting there's no medication for autism, so no pharma incentive to overdiagnose.

He explains that he needed someone to tell him to grow up and get his shit together. He acknowledges that Peterson later 'went a bit crazy,' but he tries to be honest about finding value in the early self-help content. He contrasts his current embarrassment with the genuine help it provided. He also mentions that when he was vomiting after being spiked, he went 'full Jordan Peterson' and told himself to tidy his room and get it together, showing the lasting impact.

He explains the context of the article, his frustration that it made his show seem inaccessible when he actually does a lot of explaining. He posted a black-square text on Instagram, which went viral with 40k likes. The journalist reached out, and they had a phone call where neither fully apologized but understood each other. He acknowledges that he probably shouldn't have included her name, but it was already public. He connects this to his autism: he thought he was just informing people, but it came across as rude. He also mentions a similar incident with a late-arriving audience where his factual post was misinterpreted as passive-aggressive.

He explains that for a month he thought everyone was having fun, then discovered they'd been mocking him. This made him put a lid on his bravado and self-promotion for 1.5-2 years. Writing and performing the show, which uses Pete Weber as a symbol of unapologetic arrogance, allowed him to rebuild that part of himself. He realized that to promote a comedy tour, you need some bravado, and that it's okay to be ambitious and believe you can be one of the best. He connects this to the tall poppy syndrome and the fear of having 'notions.' He also references the poem from Coach Carter about our deepest fear being that we are powerful beyond measure, which helped him embrace his ambition.

He theorizes that women are often socialized to be more buttoned-up and responsible, while men are allowed to be silly. The podcast provides a space where women can enjoy that dynamic. He also notes that this is similar to the appeal of 'The Basement Yard,' which has a 90% female audience. He sees it as a positive thing, providing a service that isn't readily available to women. He also mentions that some TV producers worried his audience might have manosphere tendencies, but he argues that by being softer and more open, they can steer young men away from toxic influences. He says, 'Someone has to talk to young men or else you're abandoning that to all of the influences that you have the biggest concerns about.'

He says that in America, if a joke doesn't work, some comedians will just add a slur and get applause from people who think they're fighting a good fight. He contrasts this with his own approach: he wants to make everyone uncomfortable at different points, but for different reasons—some from vulnerability, some from dark jokes. He believes you should stretch your audience, not just give them what they want. He also notes the right-wing equivalent of 'we don't like that orange guy' clapter. He finds it boring and pandering. He also mentions the Kevin Hart roast and the joke about lynching, noting that some people were outraged while he found it hilarious, and that roasts should be seen as ensemble performances, not competitions.