Well, I was granted redemption and had a rocking gig at The State Bar in Glasgow on Saturday night; finally getting this cursed monkey off my back.
The journey to the gig had an inauspicious start.
Driving out of Edinburgh, I decided to recite my act, as I’d been having trouble lately remembering the correct sequence, having
recently switched some of the set around.
This was all going fine, but unfortunately my mind wandered from the job in hand, and I found myself on the Edinburgh Bypass
heading towards Berwick-on-Tweed.
I’d driven straight past the M8 turn-off. This was unprecedented, (that means it’s never happened before).
Anyway, I had to drive a good few miles in the opposite direction before I was able to turn around and once more head in the direction
of Glasgow.
From having plenty of time, I was now on a fairly tight schedule.
I got a bit bogged down in Glasgow city centre, and it was now 5 minutes till showtime, I’d still to find a parking place, and I was due on first.
I hate this sort of scenario, and tend to arrive early and swan about for a while before the show.
I got parked then sprinted towards the venue…
It was 8.45pm, the advertised start time…
When I arrived, I was the first person there…apparently the show wasn’t now starting till 9.30pm…Marvellous!
45 minutes of completely unnecessary stress.
I really enjoyed the show though.
It was a great crowd, and a pleasure to play to.
I’d spent the previous evening watching with fascination as Mojo the Chihuahua enthusiastically played with Ziggy the 12 week old kitten at my friend’s house,(they come from two different families)
It was a great example of communal living by natural enemies.
I think Ziggy and Mojo should be hired by the “United Nations” and perform in all the World’s trouble spots in front of the various political leaders involved in all long-running, intractable conflicts.
Having just signed up to Facebook, I extended my continuing years-out-of-date approach to embracing fads by trying out the Wii product range.
I triumphed at golf, but was soundly whipped at tennis, bowls and boxing.
I also aggravated my sore shoulder as a result of the manic, flailing about of punching during the boxing Wii.
Coincidentally, I almost had a real-life boxing match yesterday with a cyclist in Edinburgh.
Dressed all in black, and with no lights, I didn’t see him speeding towards me as I crossed Maitland Street, (it was semi-darkness)
“Dickhead” he shouted as he had to brake and swerve past me.
“You’re the dickhead! Where’s your lights?” I shouted at him at the top of my voice (slightly startling an elderly lady who was walking past me)
About 50 yards further on, I watched him stop the bike, dismount and start heading purposefully towards me.
He looked well over 6ft and quite well-built.
I decided to use the psychology of walking towards him to demonstrate that I wasn’t feart.
It’s a technique I saw used by a man who used to live alongside grizzly bears in Canada, (it worked for a while but he was eventually eaten alive)
We then went face to face…
I said “I didn’t see you..you’ve no lights”
“It’s not dark” he said.
“So why has every car passing got their lights on I said?” (it was very much a “Rumpole of the Bailey” moment)
Then there was a pause as we just stared at each other.
“Why don’t you kiss my arse!” he said aggressively.
At this I just laughed and said “very good!” very good!” and walked away.
I was half-expecting an attack, but it never came.
Whenever I find myself in a situation like this (quite often), I ponder on whether I should really learn some martial arts stuff for self-defence.
The thing is, I reckon you’ll get into more trouble if you have these skills because you’d be less likely to defuse the situation, motivated by self-preservation.
Maybe, I should just take more care crossing the road?
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Strum Enchanted Evening?
Well last night’s gig was always going to be tricky.
I thought I did ok-ish, but it was hard work.
The show at the Voodoo Rooms is predominantly an open-mic musical event, featuring a succession of acoustic singer-songwriters performing 3 songs each.
The compere cheerily introduces the acts, but the overall tone of the evening is quite earnest.
To parachute stand-up comedy in the middle of a show like this is something of a challenge ; a challenge which I was happy to accept, as it’s definitely worthwhile to get out of the comedy club “comfort zone” and test your act on an audience who have not been warmed up by a comedy compere, or perhaps have not even anticipated that there was a scheduled comedy element on the bill.
I was highly impressed by the quality of the musicians. There was some really excellent stuff, and regardless of how my act went, I thoroughly enjoyed the evening..
I did feel I possibly lost a few of the audience even before I got on stage though.
A young male act deadpanly introduced an instrumental piece by informing the audience that he’d written it especially for his girlfriend and was originally intending playing it on a local radio station on Valentine’s Day and dedicating it to her.
He then went on to lament that his girlfriend had unexpectedly ended their relationship earlier this week.
There were a few suppressed titters at this tragic revelation, but I involuntarily loudly guffawed, and attracted several withering glances.
Being an alleged comedian, I was anticipating a punchline, and when it didn’t appear my big laugh reverberated around the room, as my brain computed “jeezo…! he’s serious!”.
There were pockets of the audience giggling away merrily during my act, but there were also quite a lot of blank, non-comprehending expressions.
It probably would have worked better if I’d tried to write some material specifically about the musical open-mic phenomenum.
As a form, it seems to have really exploded, and there must be a lot of humour to extract from it.
I did feel awkward in that some of the preceding acts had described their aspirations for a “raised level of consciousness” to save mankind, with many other worthy sentiments of peace, love and understanding.
I’m not saying I disagree with these ideals, just that it felt a bit odd in context, to be bemoaning my Grandfather’s blocked toilet.
I did mention that I felt I’d inadvertently emptied a large bucket of shit into the “stream of consciousness” which had pervaded the evening.
That got quite a big laugh.
The puns got a lot of groans.
This is always a sign of a troublesome gig for me, in that the audience are reacting solely to the admittedly, often awful punchlines, rather than, ,for example, finding the concept of someone walking around all day with a pot of pasta attached to their foot, intrinsically amusing.
I thought I did ok-ish, but it was hard work.
The show at the Voodoo Rooms is predominantly an open-mic musical event, featuring a succession of acoustic singer-songwriters performing 3 songs each.
The compere cheerily introduces the acts, but the overall tone of the evening is quite earnest.
To parachute stand-up comedy in the middle of a show like this is something of a challenge ; a challenge which I was happy to accept, as it’s definitely worthwhile to get out of the comedy club “comfort zone” and test your act on an audience who have not been warmed up by a comedy compere, or perhaps have not even anticipated that there was a scheduled comedy element on the bill.
I was highly impressed by the quality of the musicians. There was some really excellent stuff, and regardless of how my act went, I thoroughly enjoyed the evening..
I did feel I possibly lost a few of the audience even before I got on stage though.
A young male act deadpanly introduced an instrumental piece by informing the audience that he’d written it especially for his girlfriend and was originally intending playing it on a local radio station on Valentine’s Day and dedicating it to her.
He then went on to lament that his girlfriend had unexpectedly ended their relationship earlier this week.
There were a few suppressed titters at this tragic revelation, but I involuntarily loudly guffawed, and attracted several withering glances.
Being an alleged comedian, I was anticipating a punchline, and when it didn’t appear my big laugh reverberated around the room, as my brain computed “jeezo…! he’s serious!”.
There were pockets of the audience giggling away merrily during my act, but there were also quite a lot of blank, non-comprehending expressions.
It probably would have worked better if I’d tried to write some material specifically about the musical open-mic phenomenum.
As a form, it seems to have really exploded, and there must be a lot of humour to extract from it.
I did feel awkward in that some of the preceding acts had described their aspirations for a “raised level of consciousness” to save mankind, with many other worthy sentiments of peace, love and understanding.
I’m not saying I disagree with these ideals, just that it felt a bit odd in context, to be bemoaning my Grandfather’s blocked toilet.
I did mention that I felt I’d inadvertently emptied a large bucket of shit into the “stream of consciousness” which had pervaded the evening.
That got quite a big laugh.
The puns got a lot of groans.
This is always a sign of a troublesome gig for me, in that the audience are reacting solely to the admittedly, often awful punchlines, rather than, ,for example, finding the concept of someone walking around all day with a pot of pasta attached to their foot, intrinsically amusing.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
CSb RIP
I think most people are probably bored reading about anything with “credit crunch” references in it, (I know I am).
However, I have to admit I’m pretty shocked at what is going on in central Edinburgh.
As I take a lunchtime stroll around Tollcross, I notice with each passing day more and more businesses collapsing.
The only firm that seems to be doing quite well at the moment is the one which manufactures the “To Let” signs.
They must be selling like the proverbial cakes of the hot variety.
Many of the restaurants in this area no longer even bother to open at lunchtime, and those that do are virtually empty.
The “Festival Alehouse” and “Scruffy Murphys” bars have closed, (admittedly no great loss, but they seemed reasonably busy compared with many other bars).
The musical instrument shop next to the King’s Theatre has now closed (can’t remember its name).
If things carry on at this rate, the only businesses still open will be the big Coffee chains, and a couple of Poundstretchers.
Although maybe a few more charity shops will start up? (just what Edinburgh needs).
More bad news emerged this morning when I discovered that my beloved snowboarding haven “CSb Chalet Snowboard” has gone out of business.
This is a total disaster as there is nothing else like it on the snowboarding market.
I may have lost millions on misplaced share deals recently, but this is ultimately more painful.
Csb ran a dedicated snowboarding chalet near the Avoriaz resort.
What made it unique was that the people who ran the chalet were also all top boarders, who would act as guides and take you all over the resort, including to a lot of off-piste areas, where their local knowledge was invaluable.
Everybody at the chalet boarded together, ate and drank together ; and although you’d get the odd mentalist, 99.9% of the residents were great people.
I’ve been there 5 times, and I’m gutted to hear of its demise.
I’ve had some fantastic times there over the years, and it’s just not the same anywhere else.
What is particularly annoying is that in Canada last year, I finally ditched my old board, got a Burton T6 on Ebay and totally transformed my snowboarding abilities, and was really looking forward to doing another CSb holiday to consolidate my gains.
Pah!
A couple of years ago, myself and a couple of aquaintances were toying with the idea of taking over the lease of the “Holyrood Tavern” .
In spite of all my financial disasters of late, the fact that this never came to fruition represents a great escape.
In the current economic climate, re-launching the Holyrood would have been a financial catastrophe beyond imagination.
Phew!
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Pow!
“Hurtin’ my back
On the way to the gym…”
Of course, that could be a couple of lines from “Isn’t It Ironic” by Alanis Morrisette, if it was actually about irony…
But it isn’t, it’s what happened to me yesterday.
I thought I would start the week positively, in a blaze of smug glory, by going to the gym at work.
I also had to carry my laptop in to work as it’s been acting up and I wanted to take it to the repair shop at lunchtime.
So, while walking up the street and carrying this lopsided load, something tweaked in my back and the gym visit had to be cancelled on disability grounds.
And now I’m hobbling about in pain.
Those of you in your early 70s will remember the BBC series “Colditz”.
On Sunday night, I found myself watching a whole episode on Youtube, (I am living the dream).
The episode I was watching is generally regarded as the most memorable one, and has been repeated many times over the years.
It’s called “Tweedledum” and is the story of one of the POWs who feigns insanity in an attempt to be repatriated.
It features a brilliant performance by Michael Bryant as “Wing Commander Marsh”, the central character.
I enjoyed watching it again, but was somewhat dumbfounded that the very end of the episode was missing.
It’s fair to say that the end is quite important.
It involves “Colonel Preston” (the senior British officer at Colditz) reading a letter he has just received from Marsh’s wife.
The upshot is that by spending so long appearing to have cracked, he has had a genuine mental breakdown and is now permanently
hospitalised in England, with no hope of recovery.
It’s quite a powerful ending.
However, today’s generation of Youtube viewers will think that “Tweedledum” completely fooled the Germans with his cunning plan, and lived happily ever after back home in dear old Blighty.
(It’s probably what would have happened had Hollywood made a version of the tale)
It can be quite misleading missing the end of films and stuff.
Imagine you’d walked out of “The Sting” just as Paul Newman and Robert Redford were shot?
You’d think it was a rather tragic and abrupt end, to what had been quite a jolly film up till that point.
Or you might have left “Snow White” before the end, and felt pained to realise that she was going to spend eternity sleeping in a glass case…very sad!
Robert Wagner was in “Colditz”, although he only ever has about one line an episode to say…(I wonder how much he got paid?)
I laughed more than I have just about ever laughed at anything last night watching Irish comic Paul Currie at The Stand.
He did a lip-sync to the “Hart to Hart” theme (starring Robert Wagner ; what a flawless link…) with an embarrassed-looking couple forced to join him on stage.
The theme is funny in itself, but when he mimed “when they got together….it was moidah!!!!” , and then froze for a couple of minutes while the rest of the theme played out…well, I nearly had a fit.
Beautiful stuff…
My “Chairman Mao” watch has attracted a lot of admiring interest.
Unfortunately, it loses approximately 10 minutes in every hour.
There should be a joke there somewhere?
Gordon Alexander made one last night, but I have managed to forget it.
Something about “a cultural step back in time”.
Sunday, February 08, 2009
well hello there China!
My sister has just returned from a month long holiday in sunny China.
She has brought me back a great watch which has an image of Chairman Mao waving his hand on the face.
It is the best watch ever. Hilarious.
She did a 2 day tour of Beijing and complimented her tour guide on China's overall organisation of the Olympics.
She also mentioned that the Paralympics were impressively staged as well.
At this the tour guide said "I didn't like the Paralympics"
Puzzled, my sister asked "Why?"
The guide replied "I don't think it is right to make people with one leg to race each other...it is cruel!"
Hmmm...now that is a puzzling, yet highly interesting take on things!
My niece Kitty (2) now routinely asks my brother ; "Have you sold your house yet?"
(it has been on the market for quite a long time)
This is very funny too.
She has brought me back a great watch which has an image of Chairman Mao waving his hand on the face.
It is the best watch ever. Hilarious.
She did a 2 day tour of Beijing and complimented her tour guide on China's overall organisation of the Olympics.
She also mentioned that the Paralympics were impressively staged as well.
At this the tour guide said "I didn't like the Paralympics"
Puzzled, my sister asked "Why?"
The guide replied "I don't think it is right to make people with one leg to race each other...it is cruel!"
Hmmm...now that is a puzzling, yet highly interesting take on things!
My niece Kitty (2) now routinely asks my brother ; "Have you sold your house yet?"
(it has been on the market for quite a long time)
This is very funny too.
Saturday, February 07, 2009
Punctured bicycle on a hilltop desolate
So anyway, last night at the Heresy Comedy Club was pretty much up there on the “Jim Park disastrous, crash-and-burn gigs roll of dishonour”.
It was always going to be difficult.
I was on first. (It’s like assuming the role of the Star Trek crew member you don’t recognise, going off on a reconnaissance mission).
The bulk of the audience comprised of some kind of works night out thing, where the men were, without exception,acting like the most annoying, surly, ignorant adolescent twats.
It was clear from the start that they wanted the show to be entirely about them, and that they weren’t interested in listening to material of any sort.
There followed an extended, hideous demonstration of showing-off and one-upmanship between them.
To a certain extent I could compare my experience with that of Chesley Burnett "Sully" Sullenberger III.
When a couple of banker jokes failed in the opening minutes of my act, you could make an analogy with Chesley’s plane smashing into a flock of Canadian Geese.
It was at this point that we both realised we were in trouble.
The other comedians on the bill (Rob Kane, Elaine Malcolmson and Mark Nelson), did a much better job than me of stepping outside their material (athough, more or less forced to), and taking on the heckling idiots.
I tried this once at my disastrous State Bar gig, trading insults merrily for 25 minutes, but I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s not really my bag.
So I gamely ploughed on with my material.
If myself and Chesley Burnett "Sully" Sullenberger III. had swapped places ; rather than land the plane safely on the Hudson River, I would have steered the plane
straight into the foyer of the Rockefeller Center with catastrophic consequences.
As well as the adolescent idiots, a psychotic-looking woman in the front row seemed furious about my Islamic Terrorist “You’ve Been Framed” TV special joke ; repeatedly shouting “I KNOW people there…! I KNOW people there..!” (continuing long after I’d finished that bit).
Experience informs you when a gig is beyond rescue, so I cut the set short and beat a hasty retreat.
Chesley was hailed as a great American hero.
I wasn’t.
If I'd taken out a sub-machine and sprayed the front rows with bullets, I would have been entirely justified.
The tabloids would have a field day with the man who was a "lifesaver" last week becoming a mass murder the following week.
It would make a great film too.
My next engagement is at a “spoken word” event in which I am the only comedian, and will be performing a 15 minute set.
Before last night, with a high confidence rating, I had no worries at all about taking on something like this.
However, now the doubts have set in again.
Carey Marx did a line last night about getting into a train carriage full of Chinese peopl that had me howling with laughter.
First time I've seen him...sublime stuff.
It’s a right old laugh isn’t it?
It was always going to be difficult.
I was on first. (It’s like assuming the role of the Star Trek crew member you don’t recognise, going off on a reconnaissance mission).
The bulk of the audience comprised of some kind of works night out thing, where the men were, without exception,acting like the most annoying, surly, ignorant adolescent twats.
It was clear from the start that they wanted the show to be entirely about them, and that they weren’t interested in listening to material of any sort.
There followed an extended, hideous demonstration of showing-off and one-upmanship between them.
To a certain extent I could compare my experience with that of Chesley Burnett "Sully" Sullenberger III.
When a couple of banker jokes failed in the opening minutes of my act, you could make an analogy with Chesley’s plane smashing into a flock of Canadian Geese.
It was at this point that we both realised we were in trouble.
The other comedians on the bill (Rob Kane, Elaine Malcolmson and Mark Nelson), did a much better job than me of stepping outside their material (athough, more or less forced to), and taking on the heckling idiots.
I tried this once at my disastrous State Bar gig, trading insults merrily for 25 minutes, but I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s not really my bag.
So I gamely ploughed on with my material.
If myself and Chesley Burnett "Sully" Sullenberger III. had swapped places ; rather than land the plane safely on the Hudson River, I would have steered the plane
straight into the foyer of the Rockefeller Center with catastrophic consequences.
As well as the adolescent idiots, a psychotic-looking woman in the front row seemed furious about my Islamic Terrorist “You’ve Been Framed” TV special joke ; repeatedly shouting “I KNOW people there…! I KNOW people there..!” (continuing long after I’d finished that bit).
Experience informs you when a gig is beyond rescue, so I cut the set short and beat a hasty retreat.
Chesley was hailed as a great American hero.
I wasn’t.
If I'd taken out a sub-machine and sprayed the front rows with bullets, I would have been entirely justified.
The tabloids would have a field day with the man who was a "lifesaver" last week becoming a mass murder the following week.
It would make a great film too.
My next engagement is at a “spoken word” event in which I am the only comedian, and will be performing a 15 minute set.
Before last night, with a high confidence rating, I had no worries at all about taking on something like this.
However, now the doubts have set in again.
Carey Marx did a line last night about getting into a train carriage full of Chinese peopl that had me howling with laughter.
First time I've seen him...sublime stuff.
It’s a right old laugh isn’t it?
Friday, January 30, 2009
You must be choking! (genius)
There was high drama in the office this week, as I stepped in to prevent a colleague at the neighbouring desk choking to death.
I was working away diligently, as is my norm, when I noticed his hand banging the top of his desk as he was hunched over in his chair.
My first thought was that he was bent-double laughing and was just doing the banging on the table for “theatrical emphasis” purposes.
I then caught a glimpse of his face and immediately recognised that this was a serious situation. His face was crimson and it was obvious he was completely unable to breathe.
I firmly thumped his back a couple of times, and thankfully that cleared the blockage.
If that hadn’t worked I was going to have to have a go at the classic “Heimlich manoeuvre”, which I’d never attempted before, and was unsure if I’d be able to produce the desired result.
It was surreal in the sense that while this crisis was unfolding, everyone else in the open plan office were tapping away on their computers,
blissfully unaware of the unfolding drama going on at the back of the room.
It’s made me think that taking a first aid course is something that everyone should do, because you can all of a sudden find yourself in a situationwhere you have to make an immediate intervention, and it would certainly help if you had a rough idea about what exactly to do.
So there you go…making people laugh and saving lives…surely that is worth an MBE?
I’m too humble to nominate myself for such honours or write to the producers of Esther Rantzen’s “Hearts of Gold”, but if anyone else wanted to, I wouldn’t stand in their way.
And if I got really famous as a result, I promise you that I wouldn’t pathetically use the limelight to boost my comedy career, but would concentrate all my energy on focussing attention on the carers and lifesavers and other “Hearts of Gold” type people, in a kind of “Comedy Relief” way.
After all, I just did what anyone would have done if they found themselves in a similar situation.
I’m not a hero ; just an ordinary bloke. I was just doing my job as a fellow human, and it would be for other people to decide if it merited wider recognition and reward.
The experience of doing the Hackney Final and getting decent reviews seems to have boosted my comedy profile.
I can exclusively reveal that I will now be making a special guest appearance on the “Jim Hobbit” Glasgow Comedy Festival show, as well as getting a weekend of gigs in Dublin next month.
I was working away diligently, as is my norm, when I noticed his hand banging the top of his desk as he was hunched over in his chair.
My first thought was that he was bent-double laughing and was just doing the banging on the table for “theatrical emphasis” purposes.
I then caught a glimpse of his face and immediately recognised that this was a serious situation. His face was crimson and it was obvious he was completely unable to breathe.
I firmly thumped his back a couple of times, and thankfully that cleared the blockage.
If that hadn’t worked I was going to have to have a go at the classic “Heimlich manoeuvre”, which I’d never attempted before, and was unsure if I’d be able to produce the desired result.
It was surreal in the sense that while this crisis was unfolding, everyone else in the open plan office were tapping away on their computers,
blissfully unaware of the unfolding drama going on at the back of the room.
It’s made me think that taking a first aid course is something that everyone should do, because you can all of a sudden find yourself in a situationwhere you have to make an immediate intervention, and it would certainly help if you had a rough idea about what exactly to do.
So there you go…making people laugh and saving lives…surely that is worth an MBE?
I’m too humble to nominate myself for such honours or write to the producers of Esther Rantzen’s “Hearts of Gold”, but if anyone else wanted to, I wouldn’t stand in their way.
And if I got really famous as a result, I promise you that I wouldn’t pathetically use the limelight to boost my comedy career, but would concentrate all my energy on focussing attention on the carers and lifesavers and other “Hearts of Gold” type people, in a kind of “Comedy Relief” way.
After all, I just did what anyone would have done if they found themselves in a similar situation.
I’m not a hero ; just an ordinary bloke. I was just doing my job as a fellow human, and it would be for other people to decide if it merited wider recognition and reward.
The experience of doing the Hackney Final and getting decent reviews seems to have boosted my comedy profile.
I can exclusively reveal that I will now be making a special guest appearance on the “Jim Hobbit” Glasgow Comedy Festival show, as well as getting a weekend of gigs in Dublin next month.
Monday, January 26, 2009
Jim stops smoking again shock!
I feel I should award belated kudos to my old friends Egg and Mitch who travelled to London from Shropshire and Scotland respectively, just
to see me perform at the Hackney Empire.
This represents a classic example of outstanding devotion, above and beyond the call of duty.
I was impressed and deeply moved.
Mitch runs the Edinburgh Film Studios.
I would implore you all to go there immediately, and arrange to make a film.
Cinema was very popular during the Great Depression of the 1930s, so it could be a great opportunity to indulge your creative whims
and direct a “Credit Crunch” , feelgood Blockbuster for 2009.
I got a couple of reviews in The Stage and on Chortle.
They are both generally positive and have some really good quotable quotes.
I find the “squashed face” description a bit odd though.
I’ve been called many things, but “squashed face” is a new one…
The review was written by a Julian Chambers, whereas last year’s (at times extremely scathing) Hackney review was written by one Julia Chamberlain.
I suspect they are the same person?
Intriguing…
But hey, I’m really happy with the reviews…and hopefully I can use them to open a few doors.
I’m working with a few Indian guys at work at the moment.
They’re good guys and I have a good laugh with them.
I find it very amusing that they all call me “Park”.
(I’m listed as “PARK, James” on the directory)
I haven’t pointed out to them that they are calling me by my surname.
It just feels quite funny to be called that.
I don’t think I’ve been routinely referred to as “Park” since I was at High School.
Could I be getting nostalgic for my dreadful time as a pupil at Queensferry High School?
From what I gather, it’s a good school now, but in my time it was a rotten, depressing environment.
So anyway, do teachers still use the surname to deal with pupils, or have we arrived at a more touchy-feely era in which
first names are invoked?
I don’t know.
I’ve had to stop smoking again.
This becomes necessary as I have arrived at what I term as the “stupid phase” of my smoking habit.
For a while I can just have the odd cigarette now and again ; often having 2-3 day smoke free intervals.
Unfortunately, I have been smoking just about every day for the past month (the Hackney Empire is definitely a contributory factor here).
My cue to stop is when I start smoking cigarettes when I don’t really want one.
It’s a mad impulse…
In spite of having no urge, I’ll smoke one, then stub it out half-way through the cigarette, and go “Ugh! I didn’t enjoy that at all…”
I have done this a lot in the last 2 weeks and as a result, it is now time for another ceasesmoke.
So “peace in the Middle East” or “Jim quits smoking for good”…
Place your bets, ladies and gentlemen….
I did a bit in my set last night at The Stand about my fictional Great Uncle Duncan.
Having completed what I now refer to as the "potato section" of my set, I mentioned that Uncle Duncan once said "The best laughs are with potatoes", shortly before sticking a fork into the side of his head.
Soon afterwards we had to put him in residential care.
This went really well...
It was a sold-out "Burns Special" at The Stand last night, making it the third cracking gig I've had in the last week.
Confidence is high at the moment.
I'm overdue a disaster...
to see me perform at the Hackney Empire.
This represents a classic example of outstanding devotion, above and beyond the call of duty.
I was impressed and deeply moved.
Mitch runs the Edinburgh Film Studios.
I would implore you all to go there immediately, and arrange to make a film.
Cinema was very popular during the Great Depression of the 1930s, so it could be a great opportunity to indulge your creative whims
and direct a “Credit Crunch” , feelgood Blockbuster for 2009.
I got a couple of reviews in The Stage and on Chortle.
They are both generally positive and have some really good quotable quotes.
I find the “squashed face” description a bit odd though.
I’ve been called many things, but “squashed face” is a new one…
The review was written by a Julian Chambers, whereas last year’s (at times extremely scathing) Hackney review was written by one Julia Chamberlain.
I suspect they are the same person?
Intriguing…
But hey, I’m really happy with the reviews…and hopefully I can use them to open a few doors.
I’m working with a few Indian guys at work at the moment.
They’re good guys and I have a good laugh with them.
I find it very amusing that they all call me “Park”.
(I’m listed as “PARK, James” on the directory)
I haven’t pointed out to them that they are calling me by my surname.
It just feels quite funny to be called that.
I don’t think I’ve been routinely referred to as “Park” since I was at High School.
Could I be getting nostalgic for my dreadful time as a pupil at Queensferry High School?
From what I gather, it’s a good school now, but in my time it was a rotten, depressing environment.
So anyway, do teachers still use the surname to deal with pupils, or have we arrived at a more touchy-feely era in which
first names are invoked?
I don’t know.
I’ve had to stop smoking again.
This becomes necessary as I have arrived at what I term as the “stupid phase” of my smoking habit.
For a while I can just have the odd cigarette now and again ; often having 2-3 day smoke free intervals.
Unfortunately, I have been smoking just about every day for the past month (the Hackney Empire is definitely a contributory factor here).
My cue to stop is when I start smoking cigarettes when I don’t really want one.
It’s a mad impulse…
In spite of having no urge, I’ll smoke one, then stub it out half-way through the cigarette, and go “Ugh! I didn’t enjoy that at all…”
I have done this a lot in the last 2 weeks and as a result, it is now time for another ceasesmoke.
So “peace in the Middle East” or “Jim quits smoking for good”…
Place your bets, ladies and gentlemen….
I did a bit in my set last night at The Stand about my fictional Great Uncle Duncan.
Having completed what I now refer to as the "potato section" of my set, I mentioned that Uncle Duncan once said "The best laughs are with potatoes", shortly before sticking a fork into the side of his head.
Soon afterwards we had to put him in residential care.
This went really well...
It was a sold-out "Burns Special" at The Stand last night, making it the third cracking gig I've had in the last week.
Confidence is high at the moment.
I'm overdue a disaster...
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Hmmmm....Nice...!!!
So Hackney has come and gone….
It was the definite highpoint of my comedic career…
What a buzz to play in front of a sold-out Hackney Empire…1500 people…ker-pow…!!!
On this occasion I’d like to say “Fuck self-deprecation..!”
I had a storming gig…I couldn’t have wished in my wildest dreams for it to go any better…it was an absolute joy to play that stage…
My main anxiety before the gig was that I wouldn’t do myself justice, and regret not making the most of probably the biggest gig of my life.
Being so relieved it had gone well, any concern over the subjective musings of a group of judges seemed gloriously irrelevant.
I promise you. I’m not delusional…why only last Thursday I did much of my set to silence at the esteem’d “Heresy” comedy club in Edinburgh.
It was like doing a bible reading at school assembly.
I’ve no interest in hiding disasters.
I know they’re much more interesting to read about than the successful gigs though. I’m not stupid…
But it all got filmed, so I’ll stick a copy of it on here and then you, yes you, can decide if I’m being ludicrously, over-generous with my nauseatingly subjective self-review.
I was delighted that Fergus won…I‘m a big fan of his work as part of the “Colin and Fergus” double-act, and I loved his offbeat solo set on
Saturday night. Class.
Compere Arthur Smith was also on fine form.
He strode into a fairly tense Green Room before the show, and informed everyone that the previous year’s winner had now given up performing (this is true), so that winning this thing wasn’t necessarily recommended for your “fucking career!”, and did his trademark throaty chuckle.
He instantly transformed the atmosphere and had everyone giggled uncontrollably for the next few minutes as he held court.
Weirdly, I felt hardly any nerves as I strode onto the stage and did my set.
I felt more nervous doing the heat upstairs in a pub in Stoke Newington.
I just found the whole place such a comfortable, friendly environment that the nerves just went, and all that remained was a determination to
savour the experience, as these sort of things don’t come around too often.
And playing that stage was a celestial orgasm...buzz-tastic.
Of course being an emotional kind of guy, after the show I was choked at how celebratory my friends were who’d come along to see me.
They were miles more nervous than me about the whole thing ; utterly terrified of witnessing me having having a disaster.
I’m lucky to have the friends I have…they rock! (this is obviously turning into my Gwyneth Paltrow/Halle Berry moment)
And it was great to see my old samba muckers Hannah and Jen also making a surprise celebrity appearance.
Looking back, I really enjoyed the immediate aftermath of qualifying for the final.
Participating in the stand-up comedy experience involves taking a regulatory amount of kicks in the bollocks from time to time, so it’s nice to occasionally get a little bit of recognition that you’re doing something right.
I was enjoying this phase up until the beginning of last week ; then all of a sudden the final was looming large on the horizon.
I spent most of last week constantly pondering on what material to select for the 5 minute set.
It’s agonising, as you contemplate after the event bemoaning that you ended up making some catastrophically bad choices.
Then you have a bit of a worry on where you’ll end up on the bill…probably better to be in the middle of the first half I thought… There are so many acts to get through
that you don’t want to be too far down the bill and perform to a frazzled audience (I ended up being on 3rd in the 2nd half…not great, but could have been worse)…
You worry in case someone’s material is too similar to yours (particularly if they are on first) …Then you worry that if the person on before you is TOO funny then the audience will need a rest and you’ll catch them in a lull…or if the person before you has a lingering death, it may take time to get the room warmed up again…
There’s a whole range of anxiety inducing stuff to ponder over…
I think I’ll make that the end of my competition days…the performing is great…the surrounding stress is not so great.
But back at work now and have made a right pig's ear of something...I'm not getting as good a reaction from my work audience at all...
Back to reality.
It was the definite highpoint of my comedic career…
What a buzz to play in front of a sold-out Hackney Empire…1500 people…ker-pow…!!!
On this occasion I’d like to say “Fuck self-deprecation..!”
I had a storming gig…I couldn’t have wished in my wildest dreams for it to go any better…it was an absolute joy to play that stage…
My main anxiety before the gig was that I wouldn’t do myself justice, and regret not making the most of probably the biggest gig of my life.
Being so relieved it had gone well, any concern over the subjective musings of a group of judges seemed gloriously irrelevant.
I promise you. I’m not delusional…why only last Thursday I did much of my set to silence at the esteem’d “Heresy” comedy club in Edinburgh.
It was like doing a bible reading at school assembly.
I’ve no interest in hiding disasters.
I know they’re much more interesting to read about than the successful gigs though. I’m not stupid…
But it all got filmed, so I’ll stick a copy of it on here and then you, yes you, can decide if I’m being ludicrously, over-generous with my nauseatingly subjective self-review.
I was delighted that Fergus won…I‘m a big fan of his work as part of the “Colin and Fergus” double-act, and I loved his offbeat solo set on
Saturday night. Class.
Compere Arthur Smith was also on fine form.
He strode into a fairly tense Green Room before the show, and informed everyone that the previous year’s winner had now given up performing (this is true), so that winning this thing wasn’t necessarily recommended for your “fucking career!”, and did his trademark throaty chuckle.
He instantly transformed the atmosphere and had everyone giggled uncontrollably for the next few minutes as he held court.
Weirdly, I felt hardly any nerves as I strode onto the stage and did my set.
I felt more nervous doing the heat upstairs in a pub in Stoke Newington.
I just found the whole place such a comfortable, friendly environment that the nerves just went, and all that remained was a determination to
savour the experience, as these sort of things don’t come around too often.
And playing that stage was a celestial orgasm...buzz-tastic.
Of course being an emotional kind of guy, after the show I was choked at how celebratory my friends were who’d come along to see me.
They were miles more nervous than me about the whole thing ; utterly terrified of witnessing me having having a disaster.
I’m lucky to have the friends I have…they rock! (this is obviously turning into my Gwyneth Paltrow/Halle Berry moment)
And it was great to see my old samba muckers Hannah and Jen also making a surprise celebrity appearance.
Looking back, I really enjoyed the immediate aftermath of qualifying for the final.
Participating in the stand-up comedy experience involves taking a regulatory amount of kicks in the bollocks from time to time, so it’s nice to occasionally get a little bit of recognition that you’re doing something right.
I was enjoying this phase up until the beginning of last week ; then all of a sudden the final was looming large on the horizon.
I spent most of last week constantly pondering on what material to select for the 5 minute set.
It’s agonising, as you contemplate after the event bemoaning that you ended up making some catastrophically bad choices.
Then you have a bit of a worry on where you’ll end up on the bill…probably better to be in the middle of the first half I thought… There are so many acts to get through
that you don’t want to be too far down the bill and perform to a frazzled audience (I ended up being on 3rd in the 2nd half…not great, but could have been worse)…
You worry in case someone’s material is too similar to yours (particularly if they are on first) …Then you worry that if the person on before you is TOO funny then the audience will need a rest and you’ll catch them in a lull…or if the person before you has a lingering death, it may take time to get the room warmed up again…
There’s a whole range of anxiety inducing stuff to ponder over…
I think I’ll make that the end of my competition days…the performing is great…the surrounding stress is not so great.
But back at work now and have made a right pig's ear of something...I'm not getting as good a reaction from my work audience at all...
Back to reality.
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Happy New Year!
found this old review of me on the interweb…
I don’t think it was one of my finest hours, but I reckon I could use the “best act of the evening” quote though…
Interestingly, I do seem to be getting criticised for having a go at scripted comedians, then proceeding to read off a clipboard throughout my act…
I imagine that if one4review were doing a review of “Dad’s Army” ,in a similar vein, they would criticise Corporal Jones, for repeatedly telling his colleagues “Don’t panic! don’t panic!”, while acting in a highly agitated manner which gives the viewer the distinct impression that he himself is panicking, in direct contravention of the advice he is seen to be vociferously issuing.
I can’t remember doing impersonations at any point. Intriguing!
I do like the reviewers though. They are comedy fans, and I wouldn’t want to discourage them.
I was down in Manchester doing a gig at the Comedy Balloon this week, and staying with my illustrious, older brother.
I’ve always been a little disappointed in that, despite living in Manchester for more than 20 years, he still does not refer to me as “our kid”.
Unfortunately, it was a damp, freezing horrible night, Man Utd were live on the telly, and the acts outnumbered the audience.
It was a funny evening though, and I was still grateful of the chance to get in some training before the Hackney event.
And £1.89 for a pint of bitter!
It’s fair to say I’m enjoying gigging in England much more than Scotland at the moment.
I think I’m fortunate in the sense that my material has no particular Scottish identity, and has a universal quality about it.
I’m not saying “universally hilarious” though ; I’d be the first to admit that some parts of my set are “universally mediocre”.
But I’m working on it…
I must confess I have been tuning in occasionally to “Celebrity Big Brother”, and actually enjoying it.
When Terry Christian presented “The Word”, he was the most loathed man on television, as far as I was concerned.
But now I really like him ; he’s totally re-invented himself into a cool, funny guy, as well as coming up with the most quotable quote of this series ;
“Big egos and low self-esteem, that’s why we’re in the business…”
That is so true…not universally, but there’s a lot of it about…
I’ve also been greatly enjoying “Dead Set”.
I’m generally quite partial to zombie stuff anyway, but with a crackling Charlie Brooker script and some fantastic, innovative film editing also in the mix, it’s sublime viewing.
I'm currently watching "World Darts".
You could argue that aesthetically, it's ridiculous watching fat, middle-aged men parading about on stage to a bombastic rock soundtrack.
I disagree.
I like it.
I don’t think it was one of my finest hours, but I reckon I could use the “best act of the evening” quote though…
Interestingly, I do seem to be getting criticised for having a go at scripted comedians, then proceeding to read off a clipboard throughout my act…
I imagine that if one4review were doing a review of “Dad’s Army” ,in a similar vein, they would criticise Corporal Jones, for repeatedly telling his colleagues “Don’t panic! don’t panic!”, while acting in a highly agitated manner which gives the viewer the distinct impression that he himself is panicking, in direct contravention of the advice he is seen to be vociferously issuing.
I can’t remember doing impersonations at any point. Intriguing!
I do like the reviewers though. They are comedy fans, and I wouldn’t want to discourage them.
I was down in Manchester doing a gig at the Comedy Balloon this week, and staying with my illustrious, older brother.
I’ve always been a little disappointed in that, despite living in Manchester for more than 20 years, he still does not refer to me as “our kid”.
Unfortunately, it was a damp, freezing horrible night, Man Utd were live on the telly, and the acts outnumbered the audience.
It was a funny evening though, and I was still grateful of the chance to get in some training before the Hackney event.
And £1.89 for a pint of bitter!
It’s fair to say I’m enjoying gigging in England much more than Scotland at the moment.
I think I’m fortunate in the sense that my material has no particular Scottish identity, and has a universal quality about it.
I’m not saying “universally hilarious” though ; I’d be the first to admit that some parts of my set are “universally mediocre”.
But I’m working on it…
I must confess I have been tuning in occasionally to “Celebrity Big Brother”, and actually enjoying it.
When Terry Christian presented “The Word”, he was the most loathed man on television, as far as I was concerned.
But now I really like him ; he’s totally re-invented himself into a cool, funny guy, as well as coming up with the most quotable quote of this series ;
“Big egos and low self-esteem, that’s why we’re in the business…”
That is so true…not universally, but there’s a lot of it about…
I’ve also been greatly enjoying “Dead Set”.
I’m generally quite partial to zombie stuff anyway, but with a crackling Charlie Brooker script and some fantastic, innovative film editing also in the mix, it’s sublime viewing.
I'm currently watching "World Darts".
You could argue that aesthetically, it's ridiculous watching fat, middle-aged men parading about on stage to a bombastic rock soundtrack.
I disagree.
I like it.
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
They've found Tom!
I felt like a bit of an escapist experience this week, so ended up going to see "The Great Escape" at the cinema.
It was grand to see it on the big screen again. It took me back to my experience of seeing it at the cinema as a little boy, and being totally blown away by it.
Watching the tunnelling stuff in a large darkened room really boosts the claustrophobic effect.
Since I virtually know the screenplay off by heart, I paid more attention to what was going on in the background of a lot of the scenes.
There is so much more to follow in the cinematic image as opposed to the compressed TV format.
For example, in the "4th of July party" scene, where all the POWs are getting trashed on locally distilled hooch, there is some hilariously bad acting by the extras.
They've obviously been told to "appear drunk" , but are doing this in a very unconvincing way by swinging their cups from side to side in a piratey fashion, with smaller groups linking their arms, and swaying about like an old music hall act.
There's also a "Hitler youth" kid who appears in the background of a number of scenes, as a form of Nazi window dressing.
James Coburn's Australian "accent" is still just as funny after all these years.
and Danny ("Tunnel King") played by Charles Bronson, still wears the most disgusting pair of brown corduoroy trousers to escape in, (presumably he was concerned about how his nerves would hold up in the tunnel?)
There are some bits of the film that seem more than a little unlikely, (apart from Steve McQueen's fence-jumping-motorbiking...obviously)
For instance, after the escape a few of the POWs head to the train station to catch the next train out of there.
Isn't this maybe chancing things?
Wouldn't the Germans have suspected this, and checked everyone arriving at the station?
I'd have stayed in the woods, but that might have made the film less interesting?
Also, it's difficult to imagine the circumstances in which a non-German speaking American pilot and a blind, English ornithologist, could penetrate the undoubtedly high security around a German air base, and nick off with one of their planes.
But this is nit picking...it is still the classic adventure yarn.
Happy New Year!
It was grand to see it on the big screen again. It took me back to my experience of seeing it at the cinema as a little boy, and being totally blown away by it.
Watching the tunnelling stuff in a large darkened room really boosts the claustrophobic effect.
Since I virtually know the screenplay off by heart, I paid more attention to what was going on in the background of a lot of the scenes.
There is so much more to follow in the cinematic image as opposed to the compressed TV format.
For example, in the "4th of July party" scene, where all the POWs are getting trashed on locally distilled hooch, there is some hilariously bad acting by the extras.
They've obviously been told to "appear drunk" , but are doing this in a very unconvincing way by swinging their cups from side to side in a piratey fashion, with smaller groups linking their arms, and swaying about like an old music hall act.
There's also a "Hitler youth" kid who appears in the background of a number of scenes, as a form of Nazi window dressing.
James Coburn's Australian "accent" is still just as funny after all these years.
and Danny ("Tunnel King") played by Charles Bronson, still wears the most disgusting pair of brown corduoroy trousers to escape in, (presumably he was concerned about how his nerves would hold up in the tunnel?)
There are some bits of the film that seem more than a little unlikely, (apart from Steve McQueen's fence-jumping-motorbiking...obviously)
For instance, after the escape a few of the POWs head to the train station to catch the next train out of there.
Isn't this maybe chancing things?
Wouldn't the Germans have suspected this, and checked everyone arriving at the station?
I'd have stayed in the woods, but that might have made the film less interesting?
Also, it's difficult to imagine the circumstances in which a non-German speaking American pilot and a blind, English ornithologist, could penetrate the undoubtedly high security around a German air base, and nick off with one of their planes.
But this is nit picking...it is still the classic adventure yarn.
Happy New Year!
Saturday, December 27, 2008
Merry Christmas!
Ok, watch this, it's very funny, ("funny" being a prized commodity in light of the relentless shite I've been watching on television for the last couple of days).
There was a landmark moment on "Match of the Day" last week.
Highlights of Hull City v Sunderland were being shown.
They both favoured stripey tops and dark shorts.
Yes, very interesting, but if you turned down the colour on the TV to "black and white" level they were virtually indistinguishable.
Has the day now arrived whereby no-one in Britain has a designated black-and-white telly?
Maybe the credit crunch will instigate a comeback? It's a cheaper license isn't it?
I kept my "Strictly Come Dancing" fan of a brother informed of the progress of the final as he dined in a Birmingham restaurant.
I eventually informed him that all the couples were level at the end, and they had been asked to do a "Charleston" with no prior rehearsal to decide the overall champion.
Much to my amusement he believed my cruel deception.
The positive element of this escapade is that rolling on the floor, kicking your legs in the air is a very effective aerobic exercise.
The amazingly talented Mark Lawrenson has been prattling on for weeks about how Robbie Keane can't fit into Liverpool's "system" and has no long term future at the club.
He seemed to play really well yesterday, scoring two goals in the 3-0 victory over Bolton.
I was curious to hear the great football philosopher's comments on this phenomenum after the game.
He didn't mention it.
Money for old rope...money for old rope...
My "Hackney" endeavors weren't mentioned at all over Christmas Dinner by my family.
They're a tough audience to impress...
I've been criticised in the last couple of days for being too eager to drop a reference on it into a conversation at a relatively early stage, as well as being slagged off for being too coy overall about it.
So that's it...no more mentions from me...!
I watched the second half of Rangers losing to Celtic today after a bit of a yomp round Holyrood Park.
A few years ago I would have been gutted at witnessing the debacle of the Gers losing at home to an eminently beatable Celtic side.
Today, I din't really feel anything, and found myself getting progressively bored watching it.
Bored? Watching an Old Firm game?
What is happening to me?
There was a landmark moment on "Match of the Day" last week.
Highlights of Hull City v Sunderland were being shown.
They both favoured stripey tops and dark shorts.
Yes, very interesting, but if you turned down the colour on the TV to "black and white" level they were virtually indistinguishable.
Has the day now arrived whereby no-one in Britain has a designated black-and-white telly?
Maybe the credit crunch will instigate a comeback? It's a cheaper license isn't it?
I kept my "Strictly Come Dancing" fan of a brother informed of the progress of the final as he dined in a Birmingham restaurant.
I eventually informed him that all the couples were level at the end, and they had been asked to do a "Charleston" with no prior rehearsal to decide the overall champion.
Much to my amusement he believed my cruel deception.
The positive element of this escapade is that rolling on the floor, kicking your legs in the air is a very effective aerobic exercise.
The amazingly talented Mark Lawrenson has been prattling on for weeks about how Robbie Keane can't fit into Liverpool's "system" and has no long term future at the club.
He seemed to play really well yesterday, scoring two goals in the 3-0 victory over Bolton.
I was curious to hear the great football philosopher's comments on this phenomenum after the game.
He didn't mention it.
Money for old rope...money for old rope...
My "Hackney" endeavors weren't mentioned at all over Christmas Dinner by my family.
They're a tough audience to impress...
I've been criticised in the last couple of days for being too eager to drop a reference on it into a conversation at a relatively early stage, as well as being slagged off for being too coy overall about it.
So that's it...no more mentions from me...!
I watched the second half of Rangers losing to Celtic today after a bit of a yomp round Holyrood Park.
A few years ago I would have been gutted at witnessing the debacle of the Gers losing at home to an eminently beatable Celtic side.
Today, I din't really feel anything, and found myself getting progressively bored watching it.
Bored? Watching an Old Firm game?
What is happening to me?
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Cor Blimey!
So anyway, I've been insanely busy at work for the last couple of weeks. By the time I get home I'm mentally frazzled and find the complicated plot structure of "Pingu The Penguin" a little too difficult to follow, so I just crash out.
I then rounded off the week with a lacklustre gig at The Stand in Glasgow.
I started and finished well, but there was a rather elongated mid-set slump.
I was chatting to some audience members at a break, and a few of them said that they thought I was funny and really liked me, but that they were too familiar with my material, having seen me several times doing a similar set.
I've always worried that this might be the case, particularly on Sunday nights in Glasgow where Michael Redmond has a cult following of regular attendees.
It was good to hear people say that though...
I thanked them and promised that on my next Sunday night there I would do a set of entirely new material, hopefully...
On a brighter note, I heard yesterday that I'm through to the final of the "Hackney New Act of the Year" competition on 17th January 2009.
I knew I'd had a really good gig in the heat, but experience has taught me to prepare for disappointment and treat anything else as a bonus.
The thought of possibly winning something like that doesn't enter my head...no chance...(well I would say that, wouldn't I?)
However, being introduced by one of my great comedy heroes, Arthur Smith, at the legendary Hackney Empire in front of 1500 people...Well, I'll have some of that!
That will be such a blast...!
Obviously, I hope I don't catastrophically die on my arse...but I've no fear about it. I'm just looking forward to having a bit of an adventure...
Apparently, the crowd can be quite feisty, and I can't rule out the possibility of hearing a resounding chorus of "Fack Off... You Cant!" ,sung to the tune of "Amazing Grace", echoing round the cavernous theatre as I depart from the stage.
But hopefully this won't happen.
I then rounded off the week with a lacklustre gig at The Stand in Glasgow.
I started and finished well, but there was a rather elongated mid-set slump.
I was chatting to some audience members at a break, and a few of them said that they thought I was funny and really liked me, but that they were too familiar with my material, having seen me several times doing a similar set.
I've always worried that this might be the case, particularly on Sunday nights in Glasgow where Michael Redmond has a cult following of regular attendees.
It was good to hear people say that though...
I thanked them and promised that on my next Sunday night there I would do a set of entirely new material, hopefully...
On a brighter note, I heard yesterday that I'm through to the final of the "Hackney New Act of the Year" competition on 17th January 2009.
I knew I'd had a really good gig in the heat, but experience has taught me to prepare for disappointment and treat anything else as a bonus.
The thought of possibly winning something like that doesn't enter my head...no chance...(well I would say that, wouldn't I?)
However, being introduced by one of my great comedy heroes, Arthur Smith, at the legendary Hackney Empire in front of 1500 people...Well, I'll have some of that!
That will be such a blast...!
Obviously, I hope I don't catastrophically die on my arse...but I've no fear about it. I'm just looking forward to having a bit of an adventure...
Apparently, the crowd can be quite feisty, and I can't rule out the possibility of hearing a resounding chorus of "Fack Off... You Cant!" ,sung to the tune of "Amazing Grace", echoing round the cavernous theatre as I depart from the stage.
But hopefully this won't happen.
Sunday, December 14, 2008
I wish it could be Xmas every day! (I don't really...)
So anyway, I found a film of this fat twat doing stand-up comedy...
There's definitely some kind of potential there though, doncha think? chortle chortle
Actually, I'm a bit disappointed with this clip.
For some reason the sound is very muffled, and gives the impression that the clip was recorded using some prehistoric condenser microphone.
It was a very lively night, and the clip doesn't really reflect that...(I would say that though, wouldn't I?)
I've been under the cosh somewhat in my daytime job, working long hours and getting mentally frazzled.
This has played havoc with my Xmas social commitments, and has resulted in me having to make several cancellations.
It's somewhat irritating to see people coming back from big boozy lunches, laughing and joking as I sit hunched behind my computer with an expression frozen in angst.
(quite similar to the facial expression that Paul Ince is currently favouring)
Mind you, my liver is having an unexpected holiday, as this time of the year is normally its "crazy time".
I decided to go the gym today but it was closed for redecoration.
I was hoping that the ventriloquist dummy was going to win "X-Factor" last night, but unfortunately he was the first to be eliminated.
However, the fact that a ventriloquist dummy was able to get all the way to the final must give all the nation's ventriloquist dummies incredible confidence and hope for the future.
There was a strange segment in the programme in which they paraded a selection of the most bizarro auditionees to come out and do an ensemble version of "Thank You For The Music".
It all felt very wrong...
There were obviously some singers who knew they were mental and crap and rejoiced in it.
However, there were also some who (judging from the auditions) actually believed they had star potential in spite of massive evidence to the contrary, and argued vehemently against their elimination.
It was quite sad to see them swallow their pride and appear in a "Parade of Shite" for our "entertainment".
The problem is, singing out of tune isn't really funny, it's just extremely painful to listen to.
I don't usually watch X-Factor though, ok?
I was just having a tea break from work.
There's definitely some kind of potential there though, doncha think? chortle chortle
Actually, I'm a bit disappointed with this clip.
For some reason the sound is very muffled, and gives the impression that the clip was recorded using some prehistoric condenser microphone.
It was a very lively night, and the clip doesn't really reflect that...(I would say that though, wouldn't I?)
I've been under the cosh somewhat in my daytime job, working long hours and getting mentally frazzled.
This has played havoc with my Xmas social commitments, and has resulted in me having to make several cancellations.
It's somewhat irritating to see people coming back from big boozy lunches, laughing and joking as I sit hunched behind my computer with an expression frozen in angst.
(quite similar to the facial expression that Paul Ince is currently favouring)
Mind you, my liver is having an unexpected holiday, as this time of the year is normally its "crazy time".
I decided to go the gym today but it was closed for redecoration.
I was hoping that the ventriloquist dummy was going to win "X-Factor" last night, but unfortunately he was the first to be eliminated.
However, the fact that a ventriloquist dummy was able to get all the way to the final must give all the nation's ventriloquist dummies incredible confidence and hope for the future.
There was a strange segment in the programme in which they paraded a selection of the most bizarro auditionees to come out and do an ensemble version of "Thank You For The Music".
It all felt very wrong...
There were obviously some singers who knew they were mental and crap and rejoiced in it.
However, there were also some who (judging from the auditions) actually believed they had star potential in spite of massive evidence to the contrary, and argued vehemently against their elimination.
It was quite sad to see them swallow their pride and appear in a "Parade of Shite" for our "entertainment".
The problem is, singing out of tune isn't really funny, it's just extremely painful to listen to.
I don't usually watch X-Factor though, ok?
I was just having a tea break from work.
Saturday, December 06, 2008
And another thing....
I neglected to mention that the much esteem'd Electric Mouse comedy club was started up again last week at Espionage in Victoria Street.
Graeme Harkins did a sterling job compering, with Tommy Mackay, Me, The Hobbit, Martin McAllister and Gordon Alexander making up the bill.
We had a reasonable crowd in and they seemed pretty happy with the product, so we'll be doing another in January.
I was down in London this week, and did a "Hackney Empire New Act of the Year" show.
I'm pretty anti-competition, but this was a really enjoyable gig, and it was good to catch up with old muckers of the comedy world.
It didn't really feel like your typical, common-or-garden comedy competition show.
It's basically a heat, amongst several, from which they select a number of finallists to appear next year at the famed "Hackney Empire" of old London town.
There's no winners announced on the night as they just pick a selection after seeing all the heats ; therefore you avoid crushing disappoinment and can remain happily delusional for a while.
I had a really good gig but wondered later if I'd maybe crammed too much material into my spot, (I reverted to a babbling 100mph delivery...just like the old days...I really enjoyed it!)
The flight back to Edinburgh on the next day was horrendous.
There was really bad turbulence for the whole journey, and I couldn't wait to get off the cigar tube of death.
I am something of a nervous flyer, but can usually cope with it ok. However this pushed me to the limit, and I was on the point of running up and down the aisle screaming "We're all going to die!!!"
Thankfully, I didn't have an aisle seat, and this kept me restrained.
In the worst of the turbulence, I did feel a need to begin talking to the man beside me.
I think this is a primal urge, in that we feel the need to make some sort of contact, rather than die with a group of strangers you know nothing about.
Unfortunately, he turned out to be one of the most boring people I've ever met in my life.
In some ways this was a good thing, as he made the turbulence look good in comparison.
But hey...I made it!
I'll get the bus next time I think...
Talking of competitions, I had this idea for a new comedy competition.
It's called "Universally Funny Comedian Of The Year".
There will be a series of heats in different solar systems of the Universe, with a Grand Final next year on Earth (well it's my idea, so my planet should be allowed to host the inaugural final!)
(I'd thought of a good opening line for an act..."Well, I'm surprised there's no heat on the sun for this competiton! Aye thang u!)
To qualify you have to have lived in the Universe for the last 12 months, or be married to someone who's lived in the Universe for the last 12 months...
and that's about it...there's big money prizes and a vague promise of some gigs in deep space.
It's a winner, I think...!
Graeme Harkins did a sterling job compering, with Tommy Mackay, Me, The Hobbit, Martin McAllister and Gordon Alexander making up the bill.
We had a reasonable crowd in and they seemed pretty happy with the product, so we'll be doing another in January.
I was down in London this week, and did a "Hackney Empire New Act of the Year" show.
I'm pretty anti-competition, but this was a really enjoyable gig, and it was good to catch up with old muckers of the comedy world.
It didn't really feel like your typical, common-or-garden comedy competition show.
It's basically a heat, amongst several, from which they select a number of finallists to appear next year at the famed "Hackney Empire" of old London town.
There's no winners announced on the night as they just pick a selection after seeing all the heats ; therefore you avoid crushing disappoinment and can remain happily delusional for a while.
I had a really good gig but wondered later if I'd maybe crammed too much material into my spot, (I reverted to a babbling 100mph delivery...just like the old days...I really enjoyed it!)
The flight back to Edinburgh on the next day was horrendous.
There was really bad turbulence for the whole journey, and I couldn't wait to get off the cigar tube of death.
I am something of a nervous flyer, but can usually cope with it ok. However this pushed me to the limit, and I was on the point of running up and down the aisle screaming "We're all going to die!!!"
Thankfully, I didn't have an aisle seat, and this kept me restrained.
In the worst of the turbulence, I did feel a need to begin talking to the man beside me.
I think this is a primal urge, in that we feel the need to make some sort of contact, rather than die with a group of strangers you know nothing about.
Unfortunately, he turned out to be one of the most boring people I've ever met in my life.
In some ways this was a good thing, as he made the turbulence look good in comparison.
But hey...I made it!
I'll get the bus next time I think...
Talking of competitions, I had this idea for a new comedy competition.
It's called "Universally Funny Comedian Of The Year".
There will be a series of heats in different solar systems of the Universe, with a Grand Final next year on Earth (well it's my idea, so my planet should be allowed to host the inaugural final!)
(I'd thought of a good opening line for an act..."Well, I'm surprised there's no heat on the sun for this competiton! Aye thang u!)
To qualify you have to have lived in the Universe for the last 12 months, or be married to someone who's lived in the Universe for the last 12 months...
and that's about it...there's big money prizes and a vague promise of some gigs in deep space.
It's a winner, I think...!
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Feeling a bit fragile today....
Last night was the official post-Fringe wrap night out of the "No Comedy For Old Men" troupe.
A curry was followed by a Stand visit, then onwards to a party in Bruntsfield.
The evening commenced at 6pm, and ended when I got home at 5.15am
Unfortunately, drinking for 11 continuous hours has had the surprising effect of making me feel like absolute shit today.
Who would have thought it?
People should be warned about this...these adverts in posh casinos with people dancing about drinking "Cinzano Bianco" aren't telling the whole story.
It was a right old laugh of a night out though...very entertaining.
Last weekend at The Stand went really well, although the Saturday night was a fairly mediocre night for me.
2 out of 3 is pretty respectable though for the first time doing that spot.
The other bad news is that after 3 months and 3 days of smug righteousness, I slipped off the nicotine wagon, and succumbed to the lure of the coffin nail.
It's a comedy club thing...it's always at a comedy club that this happens...
Oh well, never mind...I'll stop again at New Year as is traditional.
I suppose the fact I haven't smoked for 3 months is still vaguely beneficial to my health.
I don't find giving up stressful, and don't use any aids like patches or chewing gum or owt like that.
It was beginning to get dark as I emerged from my pit today.
I hate when this happens...
A whole day has been lost...life is too short for that sort of shit.
Right, I'm off to the pub.
A curry was followed by a Stand visit, then onwards to a party in Bruntsfield.
The evening commenced at 6pm, and ended when I got home at 5.15am
Unfortunately, drinking for 11 continuous hours has had the surprising effect of making me feel like absolute shit today.
Who would have thought it?
People should be warned about this...these adverts in posh casinos with people dancing about drinking "Cinzano Bianco" aren't telling the whole story.
It was a right old laugh of a night out though...very entertaining.
Last weekend at The Stand went really well, although the Saturday night was a fairly mediocre night for me.
2 out of 3 is pretty respectable though for the first time doing that spot.
The other bad news is that after 3 months and 3 days of smug righteousness, I slipped off the nicotine wagon, and succumbed to the lure of the coffin nail.
It's a comedy club thing...it's always at a comedy club that this happens...
Oh well, never mind...I'll stop again at New Year as is traditional.
I suppose the fact I haven't smoked for 3 months is still vaguely beneficial to my health.
I don't find giving up stressful, and don't use any aids like patches or chewing gum or owt like that.
It was beginning to get dark as I emerged from my pit today.
I hate when this happens...
A whole day has been lost...life is too short for that sort of shit.
Right, I'm off to the pub.
Saturday, November 22, 2008
Ouch!
I took a bit of a tumble down the stairs outside my house last week and ended up smashing my ribs off the stone steps.
I was initially relieved that I hadn't broken any limbs or cracked my head, but found it difficult to get out of bed on the following day.
I was accompanied by a visiting Spanish dignitary, and she said it was "The funniest thing I have seen in my life ever!".
This sustained me in my time of crisis.
Now I've had quite a few injuries...I've broken my wrist, broken one of my metatarsal bones (long before it was fashionable), torn various knee ligaments and broken my scaphoid a couple of times...
However, if you took all these events and accumulated all the pain involved, it would still come nowhere near the level of pain I experienced when I sneezed the day after my fall.
I nearly passed out, and dropped to the floor in absolute agony.
I'd have confessed to anything at this point, if threatened with another sneeze.
I shudder to think what would have happened if I'd injured myself in summer and had one of my standard hay fever sneezing fits.
I think it would have killed me...I would have had to stay in a bubble until Autumn.
With the help of industrial quantities of codeine I've managed to cope with the pain, but it's been nasty.
On a lighter note, I'm spending the weekend doing the opening spot at The Stand, and am very happy with the way it is going.
It's the first time I've done this spot over a weekend, so I have to be pleased that so far I've had 2 solid gigs.
Jason Cook is also on the bill, and I've been mesmerised by his brilliance as a performer.
He's one of these acts that you watch as a comedian and think "what is the point?", in terms of your own act.
I've undoubtedly had a couple of really good gigs, but watching Jason take the roof off really puts things into perspective.
To employ a musical metaphor, it was like I was playing a kazoo solo for 15 minutes on stage, before making way for John Coltrane to play some tasty jazz sax.
He's such a totally natural performer, it's sickening.
It's a really good line-up though all round, and everyone has been doing well...
Still one night to go though...hope I'm not tempting fate by prematurely proclaiming the weekend a success. Ha Ha.
I was initially relieved that I hadn't broken any limbs or cracked my head, but found it difficult to get out of bed on the following day.
I was accompanied by a visiting Spanish dignitary, and she said it was "The funniest thing I have seen in my life ever!".
This sustained me in my time of crisis.
Now I've had quite a few injuries...I've broken my wrist, broken one of my metatarsal bones (long before it was fashionable), torn various knee ligaments and broken my scaphoid a couple of times...
However, if you took all these events and accumulated all the pain involved, it would still come nowhere near the level of pain I experienced when I sneezed the day after my fall.
I nearly passed out, and dropped to the floor in absolute agony.
I'd have confessed to anything at this point, if threatened with another sneeze.
I shudder to think what would have happened if I'd injured myself in summer and had one of my standard hay fever sneezing fits.
I think it would have killed me...I would have had to stay in a bubble until Autumn.
With the help of industrial quantities of codeine I've managed to cope with the pain, but it's been nasty.
On a lighter note, I'm spending the weekend doing the opening spot at The Stand, and am very happy with the way it is going.
It's the first time I've done this spot over a weekend, so I have to be pleased that so far I've had 2 solid gigs.
Jason Cook is also on the bill, and I've been mesmerised by his brilliance as a performer.
He's one of these acts that you watch as a comedian and think "what is the point?", in terms of your own act.
I've undoubtedly had a couple of really good gigs, but watching Jason take the roof off really puts things into perspective.
To employ a musical metaphor, it was like I was playing a kazoo solo for 15 minutes on stage, before making way for John Coltrane to play some tasty jazz sax.
He's such a totally natural performer, it's sickening.
It's a really good line-up though all round, and everyone has been doing well...
Still one night to go though...hope I'm not tempting fate by prematurely proclaiming the weekend a success. Ha Ha.
Friday, November 07, 2008
Father Jack
I intended not to drink yesterday, and had earmarked the day to kick-start an ambitious 7 day abstinence from the evil that is alcohol.
Unfortunately there were problems.
I’m entertaining tomorrow night and decided to make a stew with guinness to feed my celebrity friends.
I only needed one can of guinness, but was shocked to discover that my local Sainsburys mini-store only sold cans of guinness in 4-packs.
I panicked and ended up buying 4 cans.
Of course, having used one can for cooking purposes, I decided that the fridge was getting dangerously cluttered and it would be sensible to drink the remaining 3 cans and allow the fridge to function more efficiently and emit less CFCs.
I’ve heard it said that people who have an alcohol problem will effectively be in denial for a long time before accepting their condition, and will typically use an enormous range of pathetic excuses to justify their drinking practices.
As far as I’m concerned, that’s a load of old nonsense.
In fairness, I deserved a drink after participating in a football match in which I fearlessly saved a thunderbolt shot with my testicles.
Disappointingly, we still lost heavily…
Today is the Glenrothes by-election.
It must be very disappointing for Glenrothes that the election is happening so soon after the US election, and has been more or less completely ignored by the media.
This is a shame, as a by-election gives a town a unique opportunity to promote itself to a UK audience through the regular TV coverage leading up to the day of the poll.
A lot of tourism potential has been missed.
If you are a fan of the St James Centre in Edinburgh, then think of a hundred similar versions of it all in one town, and there’s Glenrothes for you.
It is an architectural gem of the highest order.
An ornate delight of concreting excellence.
They have pubs and everything!
Not that I’d be particularly interested in that because, to be honest with you, as far as alcohol goes, I can take it or leave it.
Unfortunately there were problems.
I’m entertaining tomorrow night and decided to make a stew with guinness to feed my celebrity friends.
I only needed one can of guinness, but was shocked to discover that my local Sainsburys mini-store only sold cans of guinness in 4-packs.
I panicked and ended up buying 4 cans.
Of course, having used one can for cooking purposes, I decided that the fridge was getting dangerously cluttered and it would be sensible to drink the remaining 3 cans and allow the fridge to function more efficiently and emit less CFCs.
I’ve heard it said that people who have an alcohol problem will effectively be in denial for a long time before accepting their condition, and will typically use an enormous range of pathetic excuses to justify their drinking practices.
As far as I’m concerned, that’s a load of old nonsense.
In fairness, I deserved a drink after participating in a football match in which I fearlessly saved a thunderbolt shot with my testicles.
Disappointingly, we still lost heavily…
Today is the Glenrothes by-election.
It must be very disappointing for Glenrothes that the election is happening so soon after the US election, and has been more or less completely ignored by the media.
This is a shame, as a by-election gives a town a unique opportunity to promote itself to a UK audience through the regular TV coverage leading up to the day of the poll.
A lot of tourism potential has been missed.
If you are a fan of the St James Centre in Edinburgh, then think of a hundred similar versions of it all in one town, and there’s Glenrothes for you.
It is an architectural gem of the highest order.
An ornate delight of concreting excellence.
They have pubs and everything!
Not that I’d be particularly interested in that because, to be honest with you, as far as alcohol goes, I can take it or leave it.
Wednesday, November 05, 2008
So Long Dubya!
Having decided to join the gym at work, I dragged myself in at lunchtime to get an idea of my current level of fitness.
I was not impressed.
I was a lot fitter when I was smoking.
I think the problem is that having given up smoking (nearly 3 months now), I have been drinking more alcohol..
I’ve not been getting drunk or anything like that, so don’t give me any of your tsk tsk stuff.
However, I’ve got into the habit of having some alcohol every day, and it definitely has the effect of making you progressively more and more sluggish.
I never used to do this.
I noticed that my main man Melvyn Bragg never drinks alcohol during the first week of the month, in order to demonstrate to himself that he is in control of his habit.
So, if it’s good enough for Melvyn then it’s good enough for me.
He also acknowledges that occasionally he likes to drink a lot of alcohol.
I think this is fine unless you are one of these people who turn into a psycho after a certain amount of alcohol..
I just talk louder, make stupid jokes and then fall asleep.
Although, apparently I do have a predilection for talking/shouting in my sleep after a generous serving of alcohol.
Surprisingly, hardly anything has been written about this Ross/Brand “Manuelgate” episode, so here’s my fascinating thoughts on the issue….
I have never found Jonathan Ross funny at all.
I accept that a lot of other people think he is hilarious.
I respect their right to think this, but they are completely wrong.
Russell Brand is capable of genius both as a writer and a stand-up, but he wasn’t being very funny in this instance.
I hate the Daily Mail with a vengeance, but they had a point this time.
I’ve always found the £18 million Ross contract flabbergasting, and would much rather the money had been spent on an alternative range of smaller BBC projects.
This has nothing to do with “censorship”…
There’s lots of comment expressing worry that this will compromise the BBC’s “cutting edge” comedy. Ha Ha!
I very rarely enjoy any comedy on the BBC, and find the majority of their current and recent output to be garbage…
I’ve had my fill of the endless “panel games”, and recent sitcoms such as “Two Pints”, “Grownups” etc etc leave me totally bemused by their unrelenting awfulness.
And talking of Manuel, I once showed an episode of “Fawlty Towers” to a Mexican friend of mine and she thought it was ”the most racist television programme” she had ever seen.
What does this add to the debate?
I’ve no idea…
And it’s President Obama! woo hoo!
He’s not going to be a particularly radical president, mainly because the economy is in such a mess, he has very little room to manoeuvre.
However, it’s great to see that the number of people using their vote in America has rocketed.
The Republicans might struggle to win another election, as they’ve always been the main benefactors of the traditionally poor turnout.
I was not impressed.
I was a lot fitter when I was smoking.
I think the problem is that having given up smoking (nearly 3 months now), I have been drinking more alcohol..
I’ve not been getting drunk or anything like that, so don’t give me any of your tsk tsk stuff.
However, I’ve got into the habit of having some alcohol every day, and it definitely has the effect of making you progressively more and more sluggish.
I never used to do this.
I noticed that my main man Melvyn Bragg never drinks alcohol during the first week of the month, in order to demonstrate to himself that he is in control of his habit.
So, if it’s good enough for Melvyn then it’s good enough for me.
He also acknowledges that occasionally he likes to drink a lot of alcohol.
I think this is fine unless you are one of these people who turn into a psycho after a certain amount of alcohol..
I just talk louder, make stupid jokes and then fall asleep.
Although, apparently I do have a predilection for talking/shouting in my sleep after a generous serving of alcohol.
Surprisingly, hardly anything has been written about this Ross/Brand “Manuelgate” episode, so here’s my fascinating thoughts on the issue….
I have never found Jonathan Ross funny at all.
I accept that a lot of other people think he is hilarious.
I respect their right to think this, but they are completely wrong.
Russell Brand is capable of genius both as a writer and a stand-up, but he wasn’t being very funny in this instance.
I hate the Daily Mail with a vengeance, but they had a point this time.
I’ve always found the £18 million Ross contract flabbergasting, and would much rather the money had been spent on an alternative range of smaller BBC projects.
This has nothing to do with “censorship”…
There’s lots of comment expressing worry that this will compromise the BBC’s “cutting edge” comedy. Ha Ha!
I very rarely enjoy any comedy on the BBC, and find the majority of their current and recent output to be garbage…
I’ve had my fill of the endless “panel games”, and recent sitcoms such as “Two Pints”, “Grownups” etc etc leave me totally bemused by their unrelenting awfulness.
And talking of Manuel, I once showed an episode of “Fawlty Towers” to a Mexican friend of mine and she thought it was ”the most racist television programme” she had ever seen.
What does this add to the debate?
I’ve no idea…
And it’s President Obama! woo hoo!
He’s not going to be a particularly radical president, mainly because the economy is in such a mess, he has very little room to manoeuvre.
However, it’s great to see that the number of people using their vote in America has rocketed.
The Republicans might struggle to win another election, as they’ve always been the main benefactors of the traditionally poor turnout.
Monday, October 27, 2008
Vogue vogue vogue...
One of the benefits of working temporarily in a zany insurance office is that I get a chance to see what the current fashion trends are amongst urban professionals.
I'm thrilled to observe that the knitted tank top is making a big, big comeback.
It's also clear that some men are using the opportunity presented by a less rigid formal dress code (ie the tie is no longer compulsory), to wear their golf gear to the office.
Slacks, sleeveless golf shirts and Pringle sweaters are very much de rigeur.
It's a great privilege to be exposed to this high fashion sensibility on a daily basis, and I'm hoping that some of it will eventually rub off on me, and I will at last achieve my lifelong ambition of being a global style icon.
Other than fashion news, I decided to try the canteen today, and immediately regretted it ; although not as much as my colleague Nigel did, when presented with his salmon steak which looked like it had been cooked in the late 1960s and heated up for him today.
Looks like myself and fellow comedy man Graeme will be running a fortnightly comedy club at the Espionage in Edinburgh starting at the end of November.
We're planning on running it on a Friday night, early evening, and using the Fringe show format, ie an approximately 80 minute show with no interval.
The idea is that people have a chance to split the evening between comedy and being out on the lash/dancing.
Anyway, it will be an interesting experiment.
In exciting Home Improvement news, I'm getting the windows draught-proofed this week.
I reckon by 2039 this work will have paid for itself in the resultant energy savings.
I'm thrilled to observe that the knitted tank top is making a big, big comeback.
It's also clear that some men are using the opportunity presented by a less rigid formal dress code (ie the tie is no longer compulsory), to wear their golf gear to the office.
Slacks, sleeveless golf shirts and Pringle sweaters are very much de rigeur.
It's a great privilege to be exposed to this high fashion sensibility on a daily basis, and I'm hoping that some of it will eventually rub off on me, and I will at last achieve my lifelong ambition of being a global style icon.
Other than fashion news, I decided to try the canteen today, and immediately regretted it ; although not as much as my colleague Nigel did, when presented with his salmon steak which looked like it had been cooked in the late 1960s and heated up for him today.
Looks like myself and fellow comedy man Graeme will be running a fortnightly comedy club at the Espionage in Edinburgh starting at the end of November.
We're planning on running it on a Friday night, early evening, and using the Fringe show format, ie an approximately 80 minute show with no interval.
The idea is that people have a chance to split the evening between comedy and being out on the lash/dancing.
Anyway, it will be an interesting experiment.
In exciting Home Improvement news, I'm getting the windows draught-proofed this week.
I reckon by 2039 this work will have paid for itself in the resultant energy savings.
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