I Say, Steady On

Where the fuck's he gone now?

2010-12-23T15:23:00.002Z

I think it's kind of obvious that I don't live here anymore. I'm more likely to be caught hanging around here instead. (a link that probably won't work.)

Or in another guise at my colouring in blog or even here at my holiday snaps blog.

See you over there. x x xx

Ey up

2010-07-28T08:22:00.002+01:00

How would it be if I started writing here again?

I really need a poo now, but I'll think about it in a bit when I can relax.

Dabbling in the Occult. Down with this kind of thing!

2009-11-18T01:50:00.006Z

On the notice board in the green room, there is a hand-written poster offering the services of a tarot reader. '£5 per reading - see Such-a-body in Wardrobe Dept'. It's 2009; surely we're passed all that. What happened to the age of enlightenment?

I toyed with putting a supposedly unrelated poster quite near it saying, 'If you're keen to give away £5 pounds, and want literally nothing in return, give it to your favourite charity'. But instead, I've decided to offer my own services as an oracle. I have a coin, and write, 'nice' on one side, and, 'nasty' on the other, then offer to toss the coin to see what kind of life the customer will have.

And charge £4.50.

- Undercut the bugger.

2009-11-03T20:26:00.004Z

Yes, so, I've got some pictures that I have drawn in a gallery as part of an exhibition.

There are other makers/artists, and the exhibition has a Fairytale theme - which gave lots of scope really, but the work I've done for it does makes me look a bit hippy-ish; elves and fauns and the like, but people have made encouraging noises, so I'm happy.

Anyway, they're in The Craft Shop inside the Royal Exchange Theatre. Call in if your passing with a wad of cash and no idea what to buy your hippy-ish, Mr. Tumnus fantasist for Christmas.

Big love.

2009-10-25T01:36:00.004+01:00

Right, I woke up at some awful hour the other night and couldn't get back sleep, so put the TV on, like you do, and this Public Info film came on.

I was still really quite dreamy and half asleepy, but at the end of the film, after one nostril says to the other that he looks like a 'butthole', I swear I thought the stuffed dog then says, 'or cunt'.

I've had to Youtube it, and I still don't know that he says. But it would have been a great gag if he had said 'or cunt'.

[Edit] Oh, he says, 'awkward'. My sleepyhead version's funnier.

Now with added pictures

2009-10-24T02:41:00.001+01:00

There are photos now over at KT2.

Pop in, won't you. X

How Very Dare You?

2009-10-23T21:48:00.004+01:00

So yeah, Housemate 'P' and I were bored enough to go to The Big Shopping Mall near Manchester for a browse. Don't ask me, it was Housemate 'P''s idea.

Anyway, we were in the furniture bit; we were looking for an occasional table for the living room, and lets face it, we couldn't have looked more like a gay couple if we were asking directions to Sitges with my winky in his mouth. And what's more, Housemate 'P' is twenty years younger than me; I must have looked loaded.

An assistant approached us. He was a tall, handsome, attractive man, and he knew it.

I happened to glance at a sofa priced in the thousands.

"So, you like this do you?"
"Well..." shrug. It was all chrome and leather, the sort of thing Mike Baldwin would have had a tumbler of scotch on after a hard day.

Then he said, and I swear this is true, he said, "Let me show you what this baby can do." Who says that?

"What this baby can do"?? it's a settee, not a fricking Ferrari!

So he slid into this settee as if it was a fricking Ferrari, and do you know what that baby did? It reclined. It was a recliner. All fizz and no bang that lad.

"No, it's not really me."
"Oh, why?"
As if the thousands of pounds price tag was no barrier - "Well, it's leather. It's too 'sticky'"
"Oh I see, you want something to sink into, do you." flirty flirty.

He was using his manly whiles! Well, trying.

Housemate 'P' and I had a comedy mock row as we left.

"Look. I wasn't flirting with him! He was just trying to sell me that fucking awful settee!"

You always thought it, didn't you,

2009-10-22T22:19:00.004+01:00

MyHeritage: Celebrity Morph - Geneology - Blank family tree

"Excuse me, but don't I know you from somewhere?" I get it all the time.
"Have you ever seen His Girl Friday?" I would say, and you see it dawn on them,
"Oh my God, yes, you're Rosalind Russell!!"
"Yes. Yes I am."

That's what my life's like.

Hello everyone.

2009-05-26T14:41:00.000+01:00

Can you believe that this is the first chance I’ve had to write since the Great Run?

And I left you with a will-he-won’t-he cliff-hanger with my bad knee. If it had been a documentary, the bit about me knee would have been just before the adverts.

So anyway, I strapped my leg up for the whole of Saturday, but on Sunday morning, it was still really twingey. I still didn’t know if I’d be able to run. I was really depressed. Those of you who know me will know that I’d really dedicated myself to the whole thing, and to have to bum out at the last minute would be a real downer (man).

I thought I’d better turn up though, even if I had to walk round.

But by the time I’d got there and done some warming up, the pain began to subside. All was going to be well.

At the start line, local opera singer Russell Watson, sang an uplifting song, which turned out to be one of the funniest things I’ve ever seen. He was on one of those elivatey platform things so the crowd could see him, and as he sang, “You raise me u-u-u-u-u-p”, the platform, well, raised him up.

I can’t write a post about running round in a big circle and make it sound interesting, (actually, I bet I can, loads of comedy things happened, but I’ve not got the time) but enough to say, my knees more or less held out until the end, I finished in 51 minutes, which I’m pleased about.

Now my knee is completely fooked and I have an appointment to see the doctor on Thursday.

And I can’t tell you how amazed and grateful I am for your generosity with sponsorship. Really, thank you. X

2009-05-16T12:21:00.001+01:00

Oh Lordy Frick.

My knee has gone. Went for my last training run yesterday before the race tomorrow, and had to walk back the last couple of kilometers.

I've had trouble with this knee on and off for years, and I've been wearing a support on it during training, hoping that would be enough. It usually is, but I've been pushing myself a bit for this.

In the past, when it's hurt like this, all I've had to do is strap it up for a day, and all is fine again. I'm hoping that this is all that's needed now.

I'm still going to do the run though, even if I have to hop. But I am worried about the cash-for-minutes-under-an-hour money.

But why today? The day after would be fine, even if I couldn't walk for a week.

Stay tuned.

2009-05-14T20:12:00.001+01:00

And now my housemate has pledged £2.50 for every minute under an hour.

Pressure's on!

2009-05-11T09:41:00.002+01:00

So, all this running, has tightened my muscles. I feel twenty-six again.

Lying in bed, watching TV or reading, I keep finding my own hand feeling my own newly firmed-up buttocks. Is that so wrong?

2009-04-25T13:06:00.000+01:00

Please go here.

Coo

2009-04-15T10:07:00.002+01:00

For a really long time, there have been pigeons living in my loft. They have noisy sex, and stomp about, really early in the morning. They are bad neighbours.

Yesterday, while I wasn't in, my landlord came round to fit a new bath. He's a good bloke. He called me later. "...so that's all done. Oh, and while I was there, I went into your loft to sort out those pigeons. I frightened them out with a torch, and then blocked up the hole they were using to come in. So that's all sorted."

I woke up this morning to no sound of pigeons with clogs on, going clip clippety clop in the loft. For about five minutes.

Then I heard the sound of one pigeon, padding about.

I think he might have missed one. I think he's bricked in a lone pigeon. Have I to ignore it until it goes silent end then starts to smell? Or do I have to go up there and confront it?

I think I might just move house.

2009-04-13T18:09:00.005+01:00

I don't do star-struck. Well, I thought I didn't. But then Guy Garvey came into the theatre on Saturday to watch the show. I had to speak to him, and then afterwards, when he was out of sight, I bit my knuckle, like you do.

Then one of my staff asked me a question, and I had to get her to hang on a sec while I had a tiny moment.

I don't know where that awe came from. It's not even the first time I've run into him. Maybe it's because I've become quite a big fan recently.

Yes, this is from a previous life...

I 'met' Guy Garvey yesterday.

I was in The Temple having been boozing with a chum all afternoon. At the bar Guy Garvey from Elbow was telling a story about having been to John Malkovich’s hotel. Saying it was rubbish. And I said - and get this, the comedy genius – ohh, I’m so funny, I wish I was you listening to me – I said, ‘Were the ceilings really low just on one floor?’ I know; genius. Jimmy Carr must be shitting himself.

Guy Garvey laughed anyway so I’ve not had to throw myself off a bridge or anything. Booze there, marvellous.

But then during the interval, there was an odd moment. Guy Garvey was stood talking to Jimi Goodwin - the singer from Doves (I'll tell you a nice story about him in a sec), and then Billy Bragg walked into the building, strolled around for a minute, within about three feet of the other two, and then went out again - like a wasp in your front room. - well, nearly like that. He didn't keep banging his head on the closed bit of the door right next to the open bit for ten minutes before he went out.

I wonder if they all know each other.

Yeah, someone I know who used to work in a bar Jimi Goodwin used to go regularly, told me that every week, Jimi used to go in and order a Sunday dinner, eat it, then order another one to take outside for his dog.

Aw.

2009-04-04T20:23:00.004+01:00

I'm at the lowest ebb I've been at for lots of years. I can't shake it off. And it's starting to affect other people now.

The other day, a friend told me that I need a holiday, and so I tried to remember the last time I went away.

Not only have I not been on holiday for years, I've not been anywhere for years.

I'm wracking my brain, but since 2006, apart from one trip to Brighton for my friend's birthday in 2007, I've not been anywhere that I couldn't get to on my weekly bus pass; Almost exclusively Manchester and Bolton, with just one trip to Stockport for a gig.

So that's it; work, home, work, home, work, home. Since 2006.

No wonder Im gritting my teeth just to get through the day.

(Actually, in 2007, I had an afternoon in Sheffield to see a play. It's not really enough though, is it.)

2009-03-26T15:24:00.002Z

Here's a top tip for you.

Don't go to a barber who can't speak English good.

I've been growing my hair long for ages now. I wanted proper, long hair.

I was doing alright; it wasn't down to my bra strap, but it was past my collar. But it was getting a bit bushy; getting wider instead of longer. And it was taking some nerve to keep it growing in the face of employer grumblings and the arched eyebrows of local fashionistas.

So I went for a bit of a crop.

I tried to explain the wider/shorter problem to Sergei, "Yeah, can you stop it being quite so wide, but without it looking too layered like some eighties rock star?"
"Eighties rock star?"
"Yeah, I don't want to look like I'm in Def Leppard. You know?"
"I don't know... Def? What?"
"No. Do you know what. I'm toying with chickening out of the whole long hair thing anyway, and I was thinking before of maybe having a longish short back and sides."
"Short back and sides! Yes!"

I'm not saying his eyes lit up, but there was at least a look of recognition. So we went with that.

Now, I'm not sure where Sergei is from specifically, but now I think about it, the only pictures I've seen of men from eastern Europe, they have their short-back-and-sidey haircuts combed back. At first when he was doing that, I thought it was something technical and haircut technequey, until he looked like he was finishing off, and I looked like my dad.

So.

"Sergei, if you comb my hair forward, how long will it be?"
"How long?"
"Yes."
"I don't know, about, oh, two months. You come back."
"Hm. No. If I brush my hair forward," I mime brushing my hair forward, "Will it be long, or short?"
"Like this?" brushes it forward.

Things are looking bad.

"Hm. Do you know what, Sergei, let's just clipper it, number 2 round the back and sides, and number 4 on the top?"

To cut a long haircut story short - as it were - I've been shorn. And now my glasses look really big. And for the next couple of days, I'll be flicking phantom hair out of my eyes, and lamenting the loss of my curls.

I didn't tip Sergei.

2009-03-25T11:42:00.001Z

I had to go clothes shopping yesterday. Had to.

You see, I get a clothing allowance from work, and it has to be spent before April 1st. yesterday was my last opportunity.

Of my year’s worth of allowance, I’d only spent about twelve quid, so I had to have a proper spree.

The reason I’d not shopped for my year’s worth of free clothing is because I hate shopping. I mean, I like getting home with a few bags of treaty things, who wouldn’t? It’s the trying things on thing. I can’t bear it.

You know when you go to the swimming baths? The worst bit is the getting changed at the beginning and the end. Well, to me, shopping is doing just that bit. All afternoon.

And you don’t even get soup out of the machine at the end.

Anyway, I’ve got some new threads, and I look fantastic. Ace.

Remain Calm

2009-03-23T00:41:00.004Z

So, yeah, a friend of mine works in a place where hundreds of members of the public come in. For some reason the name escapes me.

Anyway, on Saturday night, a lady in the audience, fainted, then threw up spectacularly, half way through the show, and still in her seat. Mr. Creosote wishes he was her. Showbiz; it's not all glamour.

There was much fussing of the poorly lady. She was carried out of the auditorium by staff and customers. Once she felt a bit better, she was taken to the loo to get cleaned up because she was more or less coated in vomit. She was cleaned and given an old ushers' uniform to change into. All this took quite a while to sort.

Do you know what her husband did while all this was going on? While she was in the loo being helped out of her cheese and fish(? - that's what it smelled like) spewky frock by strangers, washed, reassured - bearing in mind, twenty minutes ago, she fainted to the floor?

He had a pint.

God fucking love him.

2009-03-14T19:00:00.002Z

Sometimes there will be something in your life that you will hold so dear that that preciousness gives it the illusion of invincibility; you couldn't imagine something so solid could fail; something you could trust your life with.

I had a conversation with someone this week that has profoundly altered the way I see such things. And has altered how I will invest my time and my emotions for ever.

I know I'm being eliptical, but this isn't really for you all, really it's for me to look back on.

2009-03-10T12:22:00.003Z

She lives in Birmingham! BIRMINGHAM!

What was she doing out in Manchester as the friend of a friend of a friend, and not even mentioning Birmingham?

Honestly. I trimmed my pubes and everything.

NEXT!

Where is everybody?

2009-03-09T22:36:00.002Z

Today, I killed a man, and ate him.

Honestly, so few people read this blog these days, I could say anything.

Who's That Girl?

2009-03-09T22:19:00.002Z

Well, I've answered her. I think I got the right mix of funny and charming without going too far and hitting idiotic and creepy.

I've asked her on a date to some arty theatre thing. I gave her a get-out clause for the arty thing, but not for the evening.

So, when did I turn seventeen again?

So, yeah, on Friday night, out with a couple of friends, and got talking to a friend of a friend of one of my friends. Follow that?

She was beautiful. And I can't remember the last time I laughed like that. We were like a double act. Just brilliant. Two hours of pant-wetting hilarity.

Right at the end of the night, whilst apologising for the aching wankiness, I gave her my card. My CARD? What a wanker. They're those awful free ones off the internet. I got some for my illustration work but I've never ever used one. Because it seems so wanky to have one. But she knew all about them because she's got some too for her jewellery work. Oh, you just know, don't you.

So, anyway, she did the text-book three day delay thing, like you're supposed to, and emailed me today.

I'm so defeatist about relationships these days (I think it's an acquired reflex), that I'm already wondering how it's going to end. When really I should be concentrating my efforts on getting it started.

Cross things.

2009-03-08T10:44:00.003Z

My New Housemate is here to decorate her room before she moves in. She moves in in a couple of weeks. Well, it might take two coats.

So anyway, I've had to clear the room. It had been one of my rooms. So I've contracted from two rooms to one. Well, one and a shared living room. But where am I going to fit all these belongings? My room currently looks like Steptoe and Son's front parlour.

I like friendly clutter, but this is decidedly hostile.

Maybe I should nail everything to the wall as a space-saving artistic statement.

No, I'll just have to have a clear-out. I can't do it now though, because New Housemate (LMC), has brought her mother with her to help her to decorate, so I'm self consciously hiding in my room pretending I'm working, when really, I'm writing this rubbish.

Actually, having said that, I might do some actual work.

Yes, go on then. Bye.

2009-03-06T16:03:00.002Z

You know those picture puzzles you used to be able to get, that were a jumbled picture cut into squares, with one square missing, and you had to slide the squares around the puzzle to make the picture complete?

I've been doing one of those today. With my whole house.

Ed and I are getting a new housemate coming to live with us, and more or less, every room is being swapped round.

Today's highlight; carrying a settee down the stairs all by myself. There were a couple of moments where I thought, this is it, this is how I'm going to die. How embarrassing.

I've got to carry a bed UPstairs yet. I'll save that til tomorrow.

I'm off on a date now. Not a Date date, just a date. Actually, it all sounds terribly middle class and adult - Dinner and a show.

Don't you know who I am?

2009-03-01T19:28:00.007Z

Tale end of last year, I was telling you about my friend getting a part in Hollyoaks. While we were out last night, he was 'recognised'. Not for the first time, but the first time while we were all there.

A really quite cute girl came up to him to ask if it 'was him', he said yes, and she went away. See, that should have been really cool. But we ruined the whole thing by ALL of us shouting, WAAAY! HA HAAAH! Wanker! Etc! someone even ruffled his hair.

It's all still a bit new.

2009-03-01T19:18:00.004Z

And by the way, how the frick has it managed to get to March already? Not a single thing has happened yet this year. It's like 2009 is suffering from some kind of Hollywood writers' strike.

Turn round three times, and spit. Or something.

2009-03-01T18:18:00.005Z

A friend of mine works in a theatre, which for some reason doesn't appear to have a name. Odd that.

He doesn't do superstition, but they've got a production of Macbeth on at the min, and he's first-aided three actors so far already, two of whom were sent to A&E.

It only started on Wednesday.

2009-02-28T12:54:00.003Z

Ooh, De-Caf Girl just walked past my house. Her new boyfriend is really good looking.

Mind you, so is her ex-boyfriend. She does alright for herself, that one.

Anyway.

How pedantic are you?

I'm terrible.

When watching 2 Girls 1 Cup, while the entire internet was retching and the like, I couldn't help but think, that's not a cup; that's a glass.

Today's a-bit-laddish made up joke.

2009-02-19T01:19:00.004Z

I ran into my mate Steve earlier. He looked a right state. His hair was awful. There was a bit dyed yellow here, a bit dyed blue there, this bit here was shaved, but all this side was long, and on this side it looked like it had been on fire, and with a ponytail down the front. He looked a dick.

"What the fuck's happened to your hair, Steve?"
"Oh, I know, I've just been to the barbers."
"What happened?"
"Well, I sat in the chair, and he asked me how I wanted my hair, and I said, well I don't know, just give me a haircut that'll definitely get me laid."
"And he did this?"
"Yes."
"So what did you do?"
"I fucked him."

Stop the clock! Stop the clock!

2009-02-17T23:19:00.007Z

Long-time readers might remember this post from last year about De-Caf Girl wanting a baby, and us breaking up.

Well, she's expecting.

I'm really really chuffed for her. It's what she wanted more than anything in the world. And it kinda shows we did the right thing.

Well done, biology.

X

2009-02-17T00:07:00.004Z

Soooo, yeah, I twittered for a while. I don't anymore.

I didn't get it, then I did. But even after I did, it turned out to be a bit pointless - for me.

The 140 character limit meant that even my massively talented writer friends were writing inane Post-its. And I was writing one-sentence nonsense that was entertaining me only very little, and everyone else, not at all.

And I don't know if it was supposed to make me feel connected to other people, but really, it began to strike me that if that empty tip-tapping of nonsense was my connection to the world, then I was a lot more lonely than I thought.

A lot more people were reading my 'tweets' than are reading this, but really they weren't worth reading at all. And neither were anybody else's.

Procrastination exercises like that are fine when you want to be distracted from other stuff, but when you're idle to begin with, they do become frustratingly vapid.

So I'm focusing on other stuff. I might even be around these parts less often.

What are we here for?

2009-02-15T17:54:00.003Z

On time-consuming, unwanted attempts at conversation in the 'Sauna' my Gay-Best-Friend said, "Oh no, I just tell them, 'Get back there, and get cracking'".

Violated, secure or just greedy?

2009-02-14T15:48:00.007Z

(Photo - Clive For Nothing)

Do you know, in Britain we have a quarter of the entire world's CCTV cameras?

Think about that for a sec.

Think how big America is. Think about how big all of Europe is. Think about how big the whole of Asia, Africa, Eastern Europe, Whatever-Russia-is-called-this-week, South America, Canada, all of that. How big is that, all added together?

You know; the Entire World. Think about how, compared to all of that, how tiny our miniscule, little island is.

We've got a quarter of the Entire World's CCTV cameras.

I don't like it. And neither should you.

But you don't need to get a petition going. Just write it on a biggish piece of card and hold it up in the street. It'll get to the right people quicker than through the postal system.

I'd Leave it Five Minutes.

2009-02-12T23:05:00.007Z

My housemate went on holiday this week, but forgot to leave me his half of the rent.

I'd been quite rash, and paid a bill; it's a lesson learned. But it left me without any money. At all. I was relying on his contribution, but it wasn't there.

So for the past couple of days, I've been living on just beans and/or eggs. So, something that binds, and something that loosens. That can't be good.

My bowels must be like a brown lava-lamp.

Anyway, he's back, and has brought me cash. Tomorrow, I will buy a vitamin. Hooray!

2009-02-10T23:59:00.003Z

Currently, my fruit bowl is nearly empty. It looks like a really extravagant place to keep an apple.

Like those guys who sell balloons in the street must look really stupid when they're down to their last one.

She's still got it

2009-02-10T23:11:00.008Z

I went out with work friends on Friday, it was a Young Person's birthday. We were in a bar full of Young People/students. Everyone there was a Young Person, apart from C and me. C is an attractive lipstick lesbian about the same age as me.

"I feel a bit out of place" she said, "Do we look like parents?"
"We look like undercover police."
"I'll take my coat off then... There. Any better?"
"Yes, well, at least we look off duty."
"Maybe we look like lecturers."
"Letcherous."

A few drinks later, we got a table. C wouldn't sit down. She was wearing a short skirt, and of her (great) legs she said "I'm not bringing these babies out and then hiding them under a table."

She doesn't get out often.

My voice went really hoarse really soon. And that's when I realised that, because I'd been off work all week, I'd hardly seen anyone, so apart from to the odd inanimate object, and a bit to the telly, I'd not spoken for days.

Where've you been?

2009-02-10T13:07:00.004Z

“On behalf of the robots, we apologise for locking your non-spam blog.”

That's what the message actually said - "One behalf of the robots." !! - Humans are genuinely apologising to other humans on behalf of robots. It's like living in a copy of 2000AD.

This, my tiny little blog, was 'Disabled' under suspicion of being a 'Spam blog'. Why? How?

Blogger describes Spam Blogs thus:

"Blogs engaged in this behavior are called spam blogs, and can be recognized by their irrelevant, repetitive, or nonsensical text..."

So that's cleared that up.

Anyway, I'm back.

Living in a Box

2009-02-10T13:04:00.003Z

If you watch enough Youtube, or if you click the menu thing on your TV, you get to see the red line along the bottom showing you how much of the program there is left still to watch.

How scary would it be if you had one of those showing along the bottom of your life?

Unexpected treat

2009-02-02T03:12:00.004Z

So yeah, it's 3 in the morning, and I'm just about to go to bed, but I thought I'd quickly flick through the channels before I go, just make sure I've squeezed every last drop out of the telly. There's more or less just sport, Power Ballad Collections for sale, impossible quizzes and roulette you can phone in to play.

So I end up going through all those odd backwater channels on digital telly, and after being a bit surprised that Party Girls are allowed to show nipples now, (we're living in truly enlightened times,) I ended up on channel 301 - that BBC one that sometimes has music on - and there are Elbow playing songs from The Seldom Seen Kid, with the BBC Concert Orchestra and a choir.

It's bloody lovely, but now I can't go to bed.

(Guy self-edited out the word 'fuckers' in Some Riot - must be a posh do.)

[Edit] On watching a repeat, I don't think he self-edited, i think it was taken out of the mix - It's been on a loop all day, in the daytime.

The Brown Stuff

2009-02-01T18:03:00.002Z

I'm sat here shocked at how much I need a coffee.

Honestly, it's like heroin. I imagine myself one day, in a piss-smelling, concrete stairwell, shivvering, sweating, trying to get the lid off a Thermos.

The Blingest

2009-01-27T00:47:00.005Z

So yeah, I had dentistry, and now one of my back teeth is gold. I think I might be worth more dead than alive.

The back of my mouth looks like a rubbish gangster, so I've been to Elizabeth Duke for sovereign rings, and I've been to Halfords for some rims for my Astra. But I don't know what that means. And the hardware shop for some Brasso and a little cloth.

And doesn't the woman in the picture above look like Geddy Lee from Rush?

Oh, ask your dad.

2009-01-25T16:33:00.002Z

I'm getting more dentistry done tomorrow by my attractive dentistry student. I swear, I put more effort into getting ready to go there than if I was going on a date.

That can't be right, can it.

Kick me.

2009-01-23T17:07:00.002Z

Is there a good meme going round? I feel uninspired, and need a kick-start.

Shudder

2009-01-22T14:33:00.003Z

I heard my boss having a poo yesterday. It was horrible.

We were heading into a meeting. I popped into the loo for a wee beforhand, like you do, and just as I was finishing, he came in. He's not an attractive man. For someone high up, and respected in his field, he looks kind've homeless.

He headed straight for a cubicle. At first, I thought it was so he wouldn't have to go in the urinal next to me, for which I was very grateful, and surprised; he's not big on his social skills.

But then I heard PP-P-PPP-P-PP-P...fffffff...PP-P-PP-P..fff..PP-P..PP!!!

Honestly, I couldn't have run out of that room faster if it had been on fire.

Witnessing History

2009-01-21T01:21:00.004Z

According to my Sitemeter, I got hit by someone in Washington DC yesterday.

And while I'm grateful to have had a reader from overseas (Glad to have a reader at all, to be honest), really, yesterday, of all days, you absolutely MUST have had something better to do in Washington DC.

Honk!

2009-01-20T14:56:00.002Z

Maestro Music - The funniest videos clips are here

It is ace when you find something like this completely at random.

2009-01-20T13:02:00.000Z

Why's Tarzan not got a beard?

Can't give them away.

2009-01-20T12:10:00.002Z

I've been given 2 comps to see Jimmy Carr.

I think he's a fricking genius, but I don't know a single other person that doesn't hate him.

I'm going to end up going on my own, aren't I.

I'm Like Shit Off a Shovel, Me.

2009-01-18T21:03:00.004Z

So yeah, I'm a jogger now. And I don't care who knows it.

Well, you see, I've been a jogger before. When I was younger I did lots of P.E.

But as I reached my forties, and cut out all the giddy-kipper-dancing-about drugs, all the gym stuff stopped. I hope the two things are not related. Though I think both things were related to my hitting my forties. No energy levels for either.

I started running again last summer with De-Caf Girl. We were one of those awful smug couples you see jogging around Chorlton. Especially as she was all pretty and pony-tailed, and ran in a manner that can only be described as 'perky'.

We even started to get up extra early in the morning so that we could go for a run before I started work.

If I hadn't been one of the ones running, I'd still have got up at that stupid hour, just so I could stand in the street and hurl abuse.

It was odd running with a partner though, I'd never really done it before.

The first time we went, I thought we'd chat as we ran, but we discovered that if you're going at a decent pace, after the first couple of hundred yards you can't really speak at all.

In the end we were going, each wearing a Walkman (or whatever the kids are calling them now), not communicating in any way, but just enjoying the company. I've started going again now, by myself, and it is quite lonely.

And I've barely ran for a bus since summer; I'm really not up to speed. So, yeah, at the end of my first run this week, I wasn't actually coughing up blood, but every time I hacked, I could taste the iron. Nice.

Jogger's nipple

2009-01-16T15:26:00.004Z

I'm not walking like this because I've pooed my pants. No, it's leg ache, that's what it is.

I've signed up to do the Manchester bit of the Great North Run, and started training yesterday. I've been so inert recently, I'm like a veal calf, and I've got to build up to 10km.

To be honest, I only joined up because I thought I got to lap Jennifer James. Turns out, it's a lap WITH Jennifer James, but I'm here now.

I've been shown a really helpful website, that's great for planning new routes. It turns out that the run I normally went on last summer is 3.2km, and doing it three times without stopping is do-able, but not without a bit of build up.

Mad, isn't it. Maybe it's an age thing, but when I was at school, if a teacher asked if anyone wanted to do extra PE, or the English teacher asked if anyone wanted to write extra essays for no extra marks, can you imagine my reaction?

Now look - I'm voluntarily writing about me running 10km.

Hairy Pie.

2009-01-13T23:48:00.004Z

Can you get dandruff in places other than your scalp? I'm sure I've heard people say that they get it in their eyebrows.

And I've heard the joke about Scotsmen in kilts getting dandruff on their shoes.

Indeed, Head and Shoulders used to have a much longer name; it was like a list until some of it was banned.

The first batch went out with the label full of Tipex.

Speaking of unspeakable, hairy places, did I ever tell you about when I got one of my girlfriend-at-the-time's MUM's pubic hairs in my dinner?

Really, it couldn't have been anyone else's, and it couldn't have been from anywhere else. But the worry is, how did it get there? The kitchen worktops are higher than 'her'. It couldn't have fallen up.

Do you think it could have been 'placed' there? Do you think she hated me?

WAH! What if it was a come-on?! but I wasn't supposed to notice; like subliminal advertising; putting a suggestion into my head without me noticing.

But. What could I do? I'd already said I was hungry, if I left my dinner, she'd think I didn't like her cooking, and I certainly couldn't tell her the truth. So I ate it. The dinner. Not the pube.

I still have that in a locket.

You're not my real dad.

2009-01-12T15:12:00.002Z

I work in a theatre, and therefore work with a disproportionate number of gay men. But it’s ok; they accept me for who I am.

Recently, we employed a new member of staff; an apparently gay man. While a gay colleague and I were discussing the new chap's sexuality, my colleague said, “Do you think he’s ‘family’?”

And I was really touched because I knew he included me in that ‘family’.

Though I do feel like I'm adopted.

2009-01-12T11:17:00.001Z

I see Britain’s Got Talent winner Paul Potts’ tour of Cambodia isn’t selling too well.

Mix-up at the printers, apparently.

There's your Garibaldi of course, and there's your Bourbon, and of course your Peak Frean Trotsky Assortment

2009-01-10T09:41:00.009Z

I've put weight on over christmas. I can't imagine I'm alone in this.

But it was wierding me out. Why was I putting on weight? The only christmas excess I remembered was a quite big dinner on christmas day. That shouldn't be enough to make any kind of difference.

Then I noticed yesterday, in my office, that I was getting a bit sick of these Quality Street.

And that's what's causing it. People are STILL bringing us chocolates and biscuits.

They bring them into the office with a, "Here, these are for your staff, thanks for your hard work this year."

Which is lovely of them, but, you know, they're handing them to me at about 5 o'clock, and the rest of the team aren't in until about 7. So there's just me and a(nother) tub of Quality Street or Cadbury's Heroes, and to be honest, if any of rest of the staff see even half of them, it means they must have come in early.

And now, members of the team are bringing them in for each other. I think they're bringing in things that they have left over from Christmas, that they're sick of. I'm dropping crumbs on my keyboard right now from a Tesco Christmas Chocolate Biscuit Collection, that arrived only yesterday, along with yet more Quality Street . 9th of Jan yesterday, and still things are coming in.

All those callories. And me, sat here burning off only the amount it takes to pop in another White Chocolate Shortcake Ring.

Oh, and people putting the empty Quality Street wrappers back in the tin! That's very bad form.

Talkin' 'bout my g-e-h-h-h-neration

2009-01-06T00:04:00.000Z

It's my birthday today, you know.

There will be drinks, but not many. You can't get anyone to go crazy ape bonkers at this time of year. Everyone's just done Christmas and New Year and no one has a penny left.

But bigger than that is that it's our eldest's eighteenth birthday on Sunday.

Wow. Eighteen; adult; voter; drinker.

I'm dying to go for a drink with her.

My dad was a bit of a dick, so I never ever went for a pint with him, nor ever wanted to, and for that reason, I suppose, it's become really significant for me to go for a drink with her. Always assuming, of course, that she's not thinking, fucking heck, I'm not going for a drink with him, he's a dick.

Who's he?

2009-01-05T00:53:00.000Z

So yeah, I Googled Matt Smith, like everyone else did, and I swear I thought he looked familiar, but I'd never watched any of the things that the internet said he'd been in.

I found out tonight that he'd been in a play at our place in 2005. And that's where I knew him from.

I don't really remember what he was like, but he must have been pleasant enough, or I'd still be slagging him off now.

No wonder people still believe in this horse shit?

2009-01-04T18:05:00.000Z

Hopping chanels just now, I see that Songs of Praise is "looking to the skies for inspiration" and has segments coming to us from the Greenwich and various other observatories.

I think if I was the curator of somewhere dedicated to science like that, I would have told them to fuck off.

Now there's a bit of film of a lecture from a 'leading scientist' who believes in God, lecturing to a group of youngsters, linking God and science. How did she even get her degree?

Fucking heck, it makes me want to burst in and make a fuss!

And They Do Bugger All To Deserve It.

2009-01-03T21:33:00.000Z

It's bloody freezing. WHY do they not make these for people?!!

Lord, look at the time.

2009-01-03T20:14:00.001Z

You know you're getting old when the Dr. Whos* start looking younger. But really, he doesn't look old enough to be a qualified physician, does he.

He's not what I expected, even though I didn't know what to expect.

Actually, I did. I expected Patterson Joseph.

But, you know, do you remember when they announced Billie Piper was going to be the new assitant, and we ALL said, What?! She'll be terrible! And then sung, "'coz I want to, 'coz I want to", in a squeeky, derisive voice. And she turned out to be the woman I love. So you can never tell.

Anyway, they're not filming for another year or so. They'll have probably dropped by then.

*Should there be an apostrophe? I don't think there should, but it looks wrong without one.

2008 Overlooked in Soap Awards

2009-01-01T00:46:00.002Z

New Year.

I like new year; I think it's important. I'm not massive on Christmas - I'm not religious, and I don't like shopping, so that's Christmas out; but the idea of marking an end point and start point for something cyclical is something that's good to do.

I love the idea that if you have a completely shitty year, you're able to say, thank fuck that's over, and start afresh. Or if you've had a complete cracker of a year, it gets to end before it gets tainted by something pooey, so that it's a contained success.

My 2008 though, was neither of those. It was alright. Which sounds like it's being damned by faint praise. But it was alright. My socks weren't blown off like 2006, but it wasn't a cunt like 2007.

I don't really want to do a massive review of the year, it wasn't really that kind of year, but it had good and interesting relationship things, and friendship things.

- At this point, I wrote a massive post about De-Caf Girl, but I wrote it on NYE after a bottle of wine, and it went on a bit. It was nice though, but had too much stuff in it personal to her, so it's been cut.

I got the proper urge to try to draw pictures for cash, and I'm really enjoying that.

A nice enough year in my little part of the world. Nobody won a million pounds. Nobody was given a house. But there were no major fuck-ups, and nobody died either. You know, completely non-soap opera. So that's alright.

Let's see how this one pans out.

Good luck.

Brrr Blobs

2008-12-31T22:44:00.001Z

Cor blummin crikey, isn't it cold?

I'm terrible at Winter. I spend most of it massively in denial. Well, I mean, I put the heating on, like you do, but I always think that if the heating's on, then there's no way one should have to wear a cardy or thick socks or anything like that - not indoors. I mean, what's the point of putting the heating on, if you can't walk round in t-shirt and no socks? I will NOT own slippers.

But no, the heating is on full blast, the curtains are closed, I'm wearing two layers, and I'm so chilly that I've got my body-warmer thing out of the wardrobe. A practical, but unattractive garment only worn when absolutely necessary. But a garment rendered special today because I discovered in its pocket my fricking 'lost' mobile phone! I can only assume, in fact I remember, that the day my phone went missing was properly freezing cold, windy and wet.

And THEN I had to charge it up, so I could dial my new phone, because I'd fricking well lost that! I found it in my duvet just now. How did it get there? I've only just got in from work, and I had it there with me.

Oh dear.

Educational and Fun.

2008-12-27T12:13:00.000Z

Oh, so that virus thing went away.

Essentially, bearing in mind The IT Crowd was on TV at the time - I turned it off and on again.

Brilliant.

The Rule of Three

2008-12-26T23:27:00.000Z

They come in threes, don’t they, shit things.

First I lost my phone, then I lost my cash card. Well, now I seem to have infected my computer with a virus. A real comedy one with a massive sense of irony.

It seems to be a thing telling me, in a pop-up that pops up all the time, whether I’m on the internet or not, that I’ve got a virus. It keeps insisting I buy anti-virus from a particular company. It’s like a protection racket. ‘Buy this thing or we’ll keep fucking you up’ type thing.

And when I’m on the internet, it’s even worse. When I Google it keeps going straight to their site. I’m fucking furious.

And the further irony is that I’m watching The IT crowd while I write this.

Bugger.

2008-12-24T19:48:00.000Z

You'll never guess what I've been and gone and done now.

I've only gone and lost my blummin' cash card, aint I.

Christmas eve. I don't think there's a worse day in the year. At least I wasn't in some last-minute panic buying frenzy or anything, but I've got no money on me, and no access to my millions for days. And a new card is going to take seven to ten working days to come.

Normally I'm so anal about what I keep in my trousers; my pockets are like a filing system. And now I've lost my phone and my cash card in quick succession.

Absolute arse.

To be honest, who'd-a-thought he could be that interesting?

2008-12-24T11:05:00.000Z

Ah, gossip.

You know when you hear some gossip, and you think PLEASE let this be true?

I used to work with a couple. They were quite unpleasant in a bigoted, right-wing-christian kind of a way. They got married, and they were really smug and horrible.

Last week, one of my friends saw him in the sauna! Brilliant!

And it was the Happy Hour, teatime session. The session when loads of married men go in on their way home from work, in a secret-double-life kind of way.

I'm so pleased (in a malicious manner, of course). And if you knew this couple, you'd be pleased too.

My Time Will Come

2008-12-21T21:53:00.001Z

Gah! Back in work tomorrow.

I took the week off to do an illustration project (that I've nearly finished), and that means I've let myself get all nocturnal. My alarm will be set for 7.30 in the morning, but seeing as I didn't stop drawing until 3am these last few nights, tomorrow's going to be like proper jetlag.

At least I won't be in work for a full week, so that's alright. I might even get my project finished by the end of the week.

I've never quite dedicated myself to a project like this before. This week, I've become quite hermit-like. I've listened to so much Radio 4, I've picked up a posh accent.

I've got one illustration, and a front cover still to do, and then I can nick off and become famous. Probably.

Speaking of which. My friend Darren starts his stint in Hollyoaks next week. I know. The dizzy heights.

I think his first broadcast is on Tuesday. He's playing Warren's foster brother; an adult with learning difficulties (his character, not Darren. Or Warren). Which is all brilliant, but now I'll have to start watching it properly.

At least for a bit.

Overheard At The Office Party.

2008-12-20T11:21:00.000Z

"Ha ha. No. There's a court order, apparently. He's not allowed within fifty yards of a Twister mat."

Bleep.

2008-12-18T13:06:00.000Z

This is Edwin sending his bleepy message on his computer to invite his spacey friends to come and play.

I'm still not sure what to put on his screen. Do either of you have any ideas?

Edwin

2008-12-18T12:43:00.000Z

Busy, busy, busy?

Not today I'm not. I'm taking the day off.

This week I've been working on some pictures for a story about Edwin Aldrin, a little boy who's trying to find the friendly space aliens he's invited to come and play. He keeps mistaking bleepy noises for them (His mum's mobile, pelican crossing, cash machine, etc), and can't find them anywhere. But there is a space alien in each picture. Can you spot the one in this?

Oh, The Glamour

2008-12-16T18:49:00.000Z

This advert for Gucci perfume, which I just found out was directed by David Lynch (Peace be upon him), is the most accurate depiction of 'coming up' I think I've ever seen.

The only difference between this and real life is that whenever I got that rush, I was usually sat on the bog having a poo.

Pills'll do that.

Nice.

Hold the Line, Caller

2008-12-15T00:09:00.001Z

Oh, fucking heck, I've lost my phone. A decade I've had that SIM card.

Today was an organise-y day and its absence was a bit of a pain the the nuts, but other than that, I don't really mind being incommunicado for a while. To be honest, I only answer about two thirds of the calls I get anyway, and answer only about half the texts, so it will probably be quite pleasant to get away with all that legitmately.

Anyroad up, cock, here's a brilliant tale I heard tonight.

My friend L has a boyfriend called Ste. A while ago, Ste was in the queue for the loo in a town centre bar.

You know those times when you have a conversation with someone, and you're completely at cross purposes, but you don't find out until you tell someone else afterwards, and they point out what the other person was on about?

Well, Ste was in the queue for the loo, and he REALLY, quite urgently needed a poo and assumed everyone else in the queue did too. The guy infront of him in the queue REALLY, quite urgently needed some cocaine, and assumed everyone else in the queue did too. Both completely at cross purposes, the conversation went something like this.

STE - (of the person already in the cubicle, but to the guy infront) "Fuckin' hell, man, hurry up."
MAN - "I know, be here all night."
STE - "I know. It's a pain in the arse having to be in here on a night out as it is."
MAN - "I know. Well, tell you what; save you waiting; you might as well come in with me."
STE - "?"
MAN - "Well, yes. There's no point you waiting out here, if we're both going in for the same thing.
STE - "!"
MAN - "Yes. Nip into the same cubicle; have a sniff; come out. Dead quick. No one will know."
STE - "No. you're alright, mate."

That's genius, isn't it?

"Have a sniff"! - Of all the slang terms. Brilliant.

Can you imagine if Ste had gone along with it? The guy chopping out a line on a shelf, and Ste, with his trollies down, having a massive dump?

"Mate, what you doing?"

He's so dashing

2008-12-12T16:29:00.000Z

Sometimes, if you're dashing out of the house in a morning, really last minute-y, half asleep, maybe even still a bit squiffy from the night before, do you ever pause and think, 'I am wearing trousers, aren't I?'

Where Was I?

2008-12-11T18:35:00.000Z

Well that was a gap, wasn't it.

I've been plumbed into the matrix at home now, so we'll be updating properly.

So. How've you been?

Do you remember when I said I was having a root canal done - by students? Well, that's been done. But I'm having everything else done too. My student has taken me on as a patient.

Did I neglect to mention that she's mid-twenties, and really quite saucey.

It helps with the bravery.

But you can't flirt with your dentist though can you. I mean, even if we ignore the twenty year age gap (surely no one is that optimistic), when your mouth is full of numness, metal and fingers, you're never going to come across as Ewan McGregor, are you. And anyway, she's only going to say, 'Ergh, I'm not going out with you, you've got bad teeth.

So we'll leave that.

Anyway, it's only marginally better than trying to get off with your proctologist.

2008-11-14T10:23:00.000Z

This is a photo of a security fence, the one behind Unicorn in Chorlton, for those who need to know. There's street light just to one side that lit the fence in that spooky way.

Incey Wincey

2008-10-09T00:09:00.000+01:00

Ah Autumn. I like spiders.

They come in to hibernate, you know.

I know I'm not updating in any real sense, these days, but I will soon. Busy busy busy.

D's Bright Idea

2008-10-06T16:32:00.000+01:00

I've been away for a wee while.

Anyway, this is a picture of my friend D at The Hat Party.

There was a Hat Party. This wasn't his hat for the whole night, you understand.

Caesar Price Our Lord

2008-09-23T15:50:00.000+01:00

One of my absolute best friends has a play on on Radio 4 on Friday (26th Sep) at 2.15pm. Caesar Price Our Lord.

I've not read it, but every single thing that Fin has written has blown my socks off.

Tune in.

Cyber-Family-Man

2008-09-23T14:26:00.000+01:00

Each flower individually hand-crafted. I don't waste my evenings, me.

Down With This Kind of Thing! - careful now

2008-09-20T14:59:00.001+01:00

The Labour Party Conference is in town. Whoop!

It's good that the government get out of their city and see that there are other cities in the country that they're looking after (if they can see past the min-bar), but fucking heck, it really messes up the buses in town - this should be a small gripe, I know, but I live a small life. It's not just because of the security cordon around their hotel and Conference Centre, which closes tons of bus routes into town, but also because every single group with an issue has a protest march while the government are in town - Also along the bus routes into town, causing a huge bussy tailback.

Massive marches are a good thing; they get on the news. That's the point really; they get publicity. Small marches do nothing at all apart from making the people in them feel like they're sticking it to the man, when all along, the man is in his en suite having a poo before he makes his speech.

The only people aware of small marches are the folk in them; the few people on the pavement as the march past; and buses and buses of furious people hating the marchers for making them late for work. Each of that massive flotilla of delayed buses contained a member of my fucking staff, and me with a deadline.

Nominative Determinism?

2008-09-16T13:42:00.001+01:00

There was a party at work last night. I was working it.

The hardest part of these do’s is getting all those drunken people to leave. I’ll spend half an hour trying to move people on politely, but then one just has to bellow until they fuck off.

Anthony Cotton, the camp one from Coronation Street, was there. After I got them all out onto the pavement, I got a text from someone, who was out there, to say ‘Anthony Cotton just called you a Nazi’, which is a bit brilliant, but the best bit was, because of predictive text, she called him Anthony Bottom.

I'm Still Here

2008-09-16T00:14:00.001+01:00

Crikey I bet you both think I’m dead. I am still here, but my mind has been elsewhere since my break-up with De-Caf Girl.

A sad tale.

She really really wants babies. I was ‘snipped’ years ago. It was an issue that we were aware of from the off, but, you know, relationships start with just a couple of dates; you never plan for them getting really serious right at the beginning.

But pretty soon, she was living at my place more than she was at her own.

Her need to have children kept cropping up and wasn’t ever going to go away. She said that she was prepared to sacrifice all that for the sake of us being together, but it was unfair to ask that of her.

And one day I just had this image of her, beaded with sweat, with tears of joy, holding her new-born in her arms, and being the happiest woman in the world; loving that baby much more than she could ever love me, or anyone. There was no way I could keep her from that.

So, after discussing it all again, we had a really teary break-up; in the park, in the rain. It was very filmic.

But see, we don’t want to be apart. But we kind’ve have to be. It’s really tough.

I’m surrounded by good friends, and there’s always lots of hustle and bustle, and I’m more or less managing to compartmentalise my life, but the quiet bits are hard.

Erm, so there.

I'll be back to two-dimensional comedy nonsense as soon as I can. Promise.

A Chip Off The Old Block

2008-09-05T11:24:00.000+01:00

My eldest is the most well behaved, responsible teenager I've ever met (That's not the chip off the old block bit), so imagine my joy at spotting this jewellery that she made from those beads you get in bead shops.

Well done.

Don’t you know who I am?

2008-09-05T09:53:00.000+01:00

I don’t create, I record; I don’t make up stories, I recount anecdotes; I don’t act, I react; I’m influenced.

I seem only to be a person as a reaction to other people. When I’m alone, I seem to be in neutral, idling, waiting for something to react to.

De-Caf Girl and I broke up last week, and now I don’t know who I am.

I Work Well On My Own And As Part Of A Team

2008-08-28T12:12:00.000+01:00

They’re recruiting for staff at a place I know – but certainly not the place where I work, wherever that is. There are C.V.s.

In the most part they’re very dull.

But there’s a great one. Mostly, it’s completely ordinary, “I worked in such and such, I studied in Blah de blah” all that.

Then near the end it says:

Hobbies and interests
I love and praise JESUS CHRIST, I also enjoy cycling, reading and the theatre…

Brilliant, the one thing that’s going to put them off, and you’ve put it in capital letters.

Unless, no, perhaps he was dictating his C.V., and stubbed his toe part way through. Yes, I bet that’s it.

Shut. The Fuck. Up!

2008-08-23T17:56:00.000+01:00

I got home from a run this morning at 7.30 (I know - murder, aren't I?) and my next-door-but-one neighbour was clipping her hedge (not euphemism) with some really noisy hedge trimmers. 7.30am!

She looked really angry too, and I thought, I bet someone kept her awake last night, some party or something, and this early morning cacophony is her revenge.

Which is a bit cutting off her nose to spite her face, but I love it.

Five Ring Circus

2008-08-22T10:18:00.000+01:00

And I heard on the news that China have had to close down several factories, and restrict the number of cars around Beijing because the pollution is stopping the athletes performing their best.

But Beijing still ‘got’ the Olympics? Crikey.

Do they mean that the athletes can’t get enough oxygen into their lungs? How bad is that? How shit for the people who actually live there. Or is it that the pollution is making the air too thick and slowing them down? Just how bad is it, exactly?

Could it be so thick it stops a javelin in mid air? I bet it is. And those measuring guys will have to climb a step ladder to pull it down?

It might.

I feel for the athletes in the Olympics though. I think about their dedication, how they gave up their childhoods, their friendships, their relationships, time with their families, just so they could spend every waking moment striving to be the world’s best in their field, timing everything so that they peak at the Olympic Games.

Just so that I can grab the remote and say, “Is Will and Grace on?”

Pain.

2008-08-22T09:59:00.000+01:00

Sadly, I look at the scars on my wrists. Each about an inch across, some shallow, some quite deep, some still bloody.

I’ve been through quite a difficult time, a painful time, and these scars are the sign; a message to the world of this dark, agonising moment in my life.

But it’s over. That phase of my life has passed. It may well return, who knows, but for now at least, the pain has gone.

Yes. Putting a reluctant cat into its carrier basket can be a bitch.

Stevens From Accounts went home yesterday.

2008-08-19T13:10:00.000+01:00

And I think Stevens From Accounts has wee'd somewhere in the house, but I can't find where.

Either that or De-Caf Girl has mislayed her Tenna-Lady again.

Stage Management are Genius - Shocker.

2008-08-19T11:58:00.001+01:00

I've just been told that Weedy No Name Actor asked Stage Management if he could keep his bag in their office for a bit.

"It's only a small bag."
"A small bag. Is that where you keep your talent?"

Stage Management, there. They make you proud.

The Kills

2008-08-16T13:03:00.000+01:00

I've been listening to The Kills.

Do you know them? I bet you do. I think they might be one of those bands that I've just discovered, and think I'm all cutting edge, only to find that they were so over last year.

I'm really enjoying them though. They are exactly the noise made by P J Harvey fucking The Ting Tings.

(Get that last sentence. I'm so fucking punk, I bet you're a bit frightened.)

...Goes The Weasel

2008-08-13T10:15:00.000+01:00

I’ve got a pimple on my tummy. It’s so big, I can feel it through my jumper.

I’m going to pop it, now, live ‘on air’.

I’ve got an antiseptic wipe and some tissue.

I’m in my office, facing away from the door. God knows what it look like I'm doing from the back.

Right…

Ow! Fucking hell! I think it might be an in-growing hair. I’d best go to the loo and do it. I might have to dig it out. Oh, it’s all gone horribly wrong. Back in a minute.

...oh, yes, I think it is an in-growing hair. I'll wait until the hair's a bit longer and have another go. I'll keep you posted.

Stevens From Accounts

2008-08-11T14:13:00.000+01:00

I'm cat sitting later this week. Stevens From Accounts, or Cat Stevens for short, is coming to live with me for a couple of weeks. She's stayed here before. I think she likes it; she gets cat nip. Which reminds me, I need to call at the cat nip dealer before tomorrow.

She's the only cat I actually like. I admire cats. I admire their blatant contempt of humans, but I always feel used by them and therefore resentful. But Stevens From Accounts is different. She seems to show actual affection. So that's alright. The operative word there though, is 'seems'. Fuck knows what she’s up to when I’m asleep or at work. Last time, she smuggled in a load of friends – little jumpy ones.

If she does it again, I’m going to shave her; make them easier to spot.

Erm, A Pun On The Word 'Meme'. - I'm a follower of fashion, me.

2008-08-11T10:52:00.000+01:00

You know when there’s a really good meme going round, and you kind’ve wish someone would tag you so that you can have a go, well no one’s tagged me, so I’ve taken it upon myself.

I’m not sure what the rules are. I bet they’re all supposed to be completed in just one sentence. Some of mine haven’t but then, I am a maverick.

Oh, and looking round, it seems that some of the questions have been Chinesily Whispered, and changed. But look, it took me all day to do this, I'm not changing any of it now. I need a brew.

1. My uncle once: taught me how to flick a coin up my sleeve undetected. It’s the basis of the only magic trick I know. It’s a good ‘un, mind.

2. Never in my life: have I eaten an oyster. Nor would I.

3. When I was five: I almost died of meningitis. It were a right laugh.

4. High School was: a mare.

5. I will never forget: Vulch. He was my best friend.

6. I once met: a married couple on a dance-floor, and they took me to their hotel room for saucey capers.

7. There's this girl I know who: can fanny-fart on demand. As party pieces go, it’s a fucking winner.

8. Once, at a bar: stood a lonely goatherd. Layee odelayee yodelay hee hoo.

9. By noon, I'm usually: up and at ‘em, even on my day off. I think it’s my age.

10. Last night: The DJ saved my life with a song.

11. If I only had: one tiny weeny ounce of drive or ambition, my life would be completely different.

12. Next time I go to church: I’ll feel uncomfortable and whispery. There is no God, not even a bit, but I quite like churches though.

13. Terry Shiavo: is a man of whom I have never heard.

14. What worries me most: is that I might be found out.

15. When I turn my head left, I see: a Tiffany lamp and a cafetiere. My room is well butch.

16. When I turn my head right, I see: my guitar. I play nearly every day, but I’m not very good.

17. You know I'm lying when: I change the subject way too quickly. I’m rubbish at lying.

18. What I miss most about the eighties: are my twenties.

19. If I was a character in Shakespeare, I'd be: Caliban.

20. By this time next year: it’ll all be over. But the next thing will be in full swing.

21. A better name for me would be: more or less anything. Coffee Boy is a stupid name I made up on the spur of the moment. I’m toying with changing it every week. But I think that might be a bad marketing ploy.

22. I have a hard time understanding: Heisenberg’s uncertainty principle. How can a thing be in two places at the same time?

23. If I ever go back to school, I'll: be big enough to drag Mr. Hacking (Eagley Primary School – 1974) right across the room by his hair whilst still sat in his chair, see how he likes it, the fuck. I was nine.

24. You know I like you if: I get a bit tongue tied.

25. If I ever won an award, the first person I'd thank would be: the Porn Film Maker’s Academy, of course, and the farmer who turned a blind eye during filming.

26. Darwin, Mozart, Slim Pickens & Geraldine Ferraro: Dogger, Fischer, German Bite.

27. Take my advice, never: buy Phillips earphones. They’re proper shit.

28. My ideal breakfast is: a Full English, on a sunny Sunday morning, eaten outside a lovely bar in Chorlton, Manchester.

29. A song I love, but do not have is: Birthday by The Sugar Cubes. Why don’t I own it?

30. If you visit my hometown, I suggest: you wear tracky bottoms, and look like a refugee from Jeremy Kyle. Just so you’ll fit in.

31. Tulips, character flaws, microchips & track stars: Reasons to be cheerful. 1-2-3.

32. Why won't people: just get along, man?

33. If you spend the night at my house: bring a bottle, and let’s play Triv. No one plays Triv anymore.

34. I'd stop my wedding for: ten minutes while I slapped myself repeatedly, shouting, “Wake up! Wake up!”

35. The world could do without: its appendix.

36. I'd rather lick the belly of a cockroach than: suck a tramp’s beard.

37. My favorite blonde is: Sean Connery. Roger Moore was over-rated... Pardon?

38. Paper clips are more useful than: they are sexy.

39. If I do anything well, it's: a complete surprise to everyone.

40. And by the way: you’re walking, I assume they’ve not cleared up yet.

What Am I, A Girl Now?

2008-08-08T18:03:00.000+01:00

Oh my lord, help, help, help.

I am hooked, and I mean hooked on The Gilmore Girls. Which wouldn't be a problem, but I'm a man in his forties.

It's not like I catch it by accident and just leave it on either; I tune in especially to watch it.

It's not just because Lorelai Gilmore is such an attractive woman, which she is, it's her dialogue as well. It's really fast and funny (in a His Girl Friday stylee), with loads of film references.

And well, just everything.

So there we are; Lorelai Gilmore is my new crush. Billie Piper will be in fricking tears when she reads this.

Sorry, Billie.

Sorry You're Leaving

2008-08-07T12:11:00.000+01:00

I’ve just been round work with a leaving card for someone. I hate doing that. Every single person looks at you like you’re a charity mugger. Which, essentially, I suppose you are.

No one ever knows what to write either. We all do that, don’t we, spend ten minutes staring at the card, then staring into space, saying ‘erm’, trying to think of something witty to put, and after ten minutes, saying, ‘oh fuck it,’ and writing ‘Best wishes,’ - I never really knew her that well anyway.

I reckon that could be a really good scam though, if you work in a big enough organisation where no one really knows anybody; going round with a leaving card for someone you’ve just invented…

“Oh, yes, it’s for Lillian, one of the cleaners [always say it’s for one of the cleaners. No one ever remembers the cleaners, but they feel guilty about that, so they’ll be generous with their donation]. Twenty years she’s been here. Retiring. Legs are going, poor cow. We’re hoping to raise enough for a Stanna. – Oh, that’s very generous, thank you. Oh, I don’t know. Just put ‘best wishes’ or something. No neither do I, she mostly keeps herself to herself.”

Quids in.

Shop Crawl

2008-08-06T11:01:00.000+01:00

I seem to have some kind of shopping inhibition. It’s not that I’m mean with money; I’m not; but even if I go to a specific shop to buy a specific garment, that fits, is in the right colour, and I can afford – the sole reason I’ve gone there; I’ll even have it in my hand, but I’ll go, “Hmm. I’m not sure. I’ll think about it.” And then not buy it.

But if I have a glass of wine, say, with lunch and I end up a bit tipsy, all will be good, and I’ll head home chuffed to bits with my fantastic purchases.

If I judge the drinking level badly though, I’ll end up at home, in my room, going, “What was I thinking? This doesn’t go with anything, and to be honest, I don’t think this is even in my cup size.”

Shut. The Fuck. Up

2008-08-05T10:19:00.000+01:00

I’m really good in a morning. How annoying is that?

It’s annoying for De-Caf Girl, especially, as it is, at the time of the month where I should keep my mouth shut and do some housework.

This morning, while we were still in bed, I was excitedly telling her some tale about what happened to my friend at the airport recently, and she said, “Wait, wait, wait. Hang on a sec. Shush a minute…” So I stopped, and listened for what I thought she could here. There was a pause. And she just closed her eyes and said, “That’s better.”

Ode to Joy

2008-07-25T11:04:00.001+01:00

So, yeah, the Moby gig. Lovely.

The Café he played in has a slightly split level floor. He played on the raised bit, and half the audience sat on rugs in front of him up there, and the rest of the audience filled the tables and chairs in the rest of the café.

It was all so low-key, it was kind’ve like an open-mic spot in some nice bar. It was just Moby with a guitar and the most amazing black woman singer, Joy Malcolm. She was astounding, and her massive voice seemed so effortless. He was happy to let her be the star, it was like he was her sidekick. There were moments when she left you breathless.

I’ve just glanced through a review of the gig they did the night before in Ruby Lounge, and it sounded like his completely stripped down style didn’t really work there, it seems that folk didn’t even stop chatting for the first bit. That’s booze for you, but in this little café, with folk drinking nothing more potent than a double shot latte, it was perfect.

They played for about forty minutes, and they did leave us wanting more.

Thanks to De-Caf Girl (not her real name) for sorting that.

The whole thing started at 5 O’Clock, so it was odd to be out, in the street, post-gig, and it still only be teatime.

Fancy a Brew, Baldy?

2008-07-23T16:45:00.000+01:00

It's that tiny acoustic Moby gig tomorrow in the tiny little cafe. It's still not confirmed whether I'm invited yet or not.

If I'm not, there will be ructions. Watch this space.