29/12/05 Festive Florics

For the first time in my life I had a Xmas meal in a restaurant.
We'd booked a table for 14 at the fairly plush "Orocco Pier" establishment in downtown South Queensferry.
As we sat down to begin our meal, the strains of Live Aid and "Feed The World" were piped loudly through the speakers.
I didn't really feel that this was the most appropriate song to signal the commencement of an extended session of traditional Christmas gluttony.
Could we compare this to playing "Hanging Around" by the Stranglers at an annual Anti-Capital Punishment Society dinner?
...or "Going Underground" by The Jam at a funeral? I could go on...
The food was ok but not great and (as is generally the case for Xmas restaurant fare), horribly over-priced.
I prefer the domestic Xmas dinner, although that's easy for me to say as I've never been forced to cook the big fecking thing myself. Although, it's fair to say I didn't miss my usual prolonged stint on "dishwashing detail". It always had that "painting the Forth Bridge" endlessness about it.
One benefit/disadvantage (you decide) of this change of venue, was that it is not generally looked on favourably in restaurants if you go into the kitchen when you've finished your meal and start helping yourself to extra helpings of turkey, xmas pudding etc
Although, based on what we paid, I think we should have been allowed to do this.
However, I can appreciate that there are various health & safety issues involved in allowing 120 drunk people to wander around a busy, commercial kitchen picking at food.
As a result I didn't need to lie down and undo the top button of my trousers, as is usually the case after a normal classic Xmas binge eating day.
A taxi into town afterwards cost almost as much as the meal. Yo Ho Ho.
The television has been gruesome over the festive period.
I've enjoyed catching up with "Life In The Undergrowth" though. Amazing stuff. The insects are such great performers. I often wonder how many takes they have to do to get things just right.
I expect David Attenborough must have loads of hilarious out-takes of insects falling off twigs, getting their head stuck in tree sap or landing on a "dirty fido" from a joke shop, hilariously mistaking it for the real thing.
There are certain double standards at play though.
We are expected to be in awe of the intelligence behind devious tricks insects use to exploit situations to their advantage.
Like wasps laying an egg on a spiders back.
The larvae then kills the spider and sucks out it's insides, before discarding the carcass. Or the favourite old trick to paralyse other insects, then bury it next to your own eggs and let the babies eat the stricken prey (alive).
This is awful behaviour.
Can you imagine the social stigma attached to attending a dinner party and then sticking one of your eggs on the back of the host before you leave; in the full knowledge that he will soon have his insides sucked out by your lovely new baby, and then be casually discarded in the wheely bin.
This is unacceptable behaviour in anyone's language, so why should we admire, let alone tolerate, this behaviour in insects?
I've a good mind to write to the BBC Head of Programming.

17/12/05 Robert Hind is 40 Shock!

My "Cockburn St" anecdote raises a few chuckles, as the "Kenneth More" disguise impresses more than a few!






John Eglin has them rolling in the aisles with his "Robert and the Sleeping Bag" story!



Mitch is the MC with the mostest as he keeps things ticking along nicely...


I was down in London this weekend to attend top London photographer Robert Hind's 40th Birthday Bash. He's the younger brother of Nicky Hind, esteemed Comedy Consultant and Web Design Guru.
I felt the immortal words of WH Auden might lend themselves perfectly to this suspicious event...

"Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Shout "Robert is 40!" tum teh tum tum

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought he was only 39: I was wrong."

There was a 1940s theme, with authentic dress encouraged. I sported a tweed jacket, neckerchief look, based on an acclaimed British actor of this vintage, the one and only "Kenneth More Esq".
Probably his most famous film is "Reach For The Sky", a bio-pic of Sir Douglas Bader, the "Battle of Britain" veteran who lost both legs in a crash, but continued to fly combat missions.
Basing myself at Douglas Carnall's baronnial Hackney residence, I did feel slightly awkward walking through some fairly rough areas of Hackney looking like a posh presenter from "The Antiques Roadshow".
I really got into character ,particularly during "Lindy Hop" dance lessons, giving an authentic impression of having just been fitted with a pair of artificial legs.
A surprise attendee was Mr Gary Keltie, who had travelled from Australia to be at the party. I hadn't seem him in 16 years, and he looked annoyingly unwithered by age. He has obviously been experiencing a very sheltered existence, and has been fighting a losing battle against moisturiser addiction. Tragic.

Robert was looking suitably dapper with an RAF uniform on, although Douglas did later remark that he thought Robert "Bomber" Hind should have "demilitarised" his uniform to a greater extent, as it still had all the relevant badges on it.
I suspect the costume hirers might not have appreciated this happening though.
I have to say that all the girls were looking rather foxy in their 40s dresses.
There was shepherds pie and trifle, and the wine flowed freely.
A few of us had been drafted in to say a few words. It was the remit of John and I to take the mick, which I hope we satisfactorally achieved, by dredging up some hoary old anecdotes about the man himself. It was then left to Steve, Mitch and Will to deliver more fulsome tributes.
I got heckled by Robert! You couldn't make it up! Well, I never!

I had meant to read out a "telegram" sent in by Mr Dave Reilly, but tragically I lost the sheet of paper at some point before my speech...!
But here's the text anyway ;

"Dear Robert,
I don't know if you'll remember me or not. I first encountered you at the fair in South Queensferry in the summer of 1979 when you were but a spotty, 13 year old schoolboy. I'll never forget your first words to me.
"You're going bald" you said.
Today, I'd like to congratulate you on reaching your 40th birthday with the greeting, "What goes around comes around, hopefully".
Happy Birthday, Robert
David Reilly"

Touchin', huh?

btw check this fainting goat link . It's fascinating stuff!

13/12/05 Is It Safe?

I had to get a wisdom tooth yanked out today. Not the most enjoyable experience in the world, but nevertheless, it's a nice comfy seat and an opportunity not to be at work for an hour or two, so it's not all bad.
"Any problems with the tooth recently?" asked the dentist.
(I'd had bad toothache 6 weeks ago, and I'd taken a course of anti-biotics to clear it up)
"No", I said "it's been fine...".
I could then tell that the dentist was pondering whether he actually really needed to take my tooth out....
It had been on dental "death row" for 6 weeks, but it seemed to be a reformed character, and hadn't caused any further problems to society. In fact, it had talked about its plight to young healthy teeth and had warned them of the dangers inherent in the bag of sherbert lemons.... Surely redemption was not out of the question?
I don't really think extraction is a proper deterrent anyway. It's not the tooths fault that its owner has a chronic addiction to sherbert lemons.
"Did the anti-biotics take effect quite quickly?"
I sensed that if I answered "yes", I could possibly be sent on my way without receiving any of the arranged torture treatment.
However, I answered truthfully , "No, it took about 2 days...and at one point I had to get up in the middle of the night to drive to a 24 hour garage (thankfully it was still open), and buy some painkillers..."
This damning testimony sealed the tooth's fate.
The dentist put a little black hankie on his head and got a big pair of pliers out of the cupboard.
It was actually not too bad. I think it only took about 10 minutes.
The last time I had a wisdom tooth out, it took about an hour, and more or less involved the dentist sticking her knee against the side of my head to get more leverage. That was not relaxing at all. At the end I felt like I'd just done 10 rounds with Mike Tyson.
I impressed my co-workers by turning up at work immediately after my torture session. It's nothing to do with the fact that being a freelancer I don't get any sick pay.
I just have a very strong work ethic. Always have had. I identify with "Boxer" in the knock-about wacky novel "Animal Farm".

05/12/05 It's That Time Of Year Again!

I was walking along the street this morning when I was thrilled to see a large, colourful splash of vomit on the pavement, (aka "a pavement pizza").
I always interpret my first sighting of these lovely forms as an official indicator that the "festive season" is well under way, and that Christmas and all it entails will be here soon. In a way it encapsulates everything I find magical about Christmas!
It's similar to the wonder in nature of witnessing the first flowering snowdrop proclaiming the onset of Spring. It's the passing of the seasons, and a demonstration of the diverse variety of the British calendar. The first sound of a cuckoo...the cherry blossom bloom...
It's something of the reverse of one "swallow" not making the summer. Similarly, one example of projectile vomit doesn't necessarily definitely mean it's the Festive season, but it can be seen as an indicator. A Hors d'oeuvre for the main event.
I think it would be a nice touch to have a vomit advent calendar on the market. It's more in touch with the contemporary celebration of Christmas in our increasingly secular society.
Yessirrr...the office parties are up and running. I even have one to go to myself.
I had a gig at the Stand last night and stupidly/bravely (delete appropriate) decided to do a set of entirely new material. This included "naked charity calendars" and "finding a snail on my ceiling".
It's fair to say that there was more bafflement than laughter. A few people were absolutely pissing themselves, but most, ahem, weren't..!
In spite of this, I have to admit that I really enjoyed the danger of doing new stuff that I had no idea what reaction it would get, and I was glad that I didn't panic or start garbling, when I plainly wasn't getting a good reaction. Never show weakness! Never show weakness!!
I think I got them in the end though, and as I was leaving the stage a really attractive girl tapped me on the shoulder and said "That was really good!"
Well, that'll do for me..I didn't care what anyone else thought...that put a smile on my face...!
I walked home. The sick patch was still there. Perhaps I should get it laminated...!

02/12/05 Evening All!

Amidst nagging doubts that we played a little too long, the audience react badly to the last "Samba Reggae"...

Friday was Stu Whittle's gala leaving do. I sadly got there before anyone else. I asked a waitress where the reserved area for "Stuart Whittle" was. She said she'd check, and then came back in a couple of minutes loudly accusing me of being a wind-up merchant.
She thought I'd said "Stewart Little", and must have been on the receiving end of various wisecracks about there not being any party bookings for fictional mice tonight.
I protested my innocence, but I could tell she had a lingering suspicion about me.
It's not that it would even have been a hugely funny joke anyway...particularly as I stood around waiting for her to come back rather than run away, as is the convention for a misinformation jest of this nature.
I'd thought of phoning Stu to ask him if there was any chance he could get a mouse fancy dress costume at short notice, and then wear it to go to the pub.
That would have been mildly amusing, and may have rescued the situation.
Bizarrely, Stu actually did come along dressed as a guinea pig, however there aren't any famous fictional guinea pigs which spring to mind, so I was unable to find an alternative reference point.
Stu will be best remembered for winning the "Player Most Likely To Hit The Roof" for 2 years in succession in the 5-a-side football annual awards ceremonies.

I took beer then was whisked off to the salubrious confines of "Dalmahoy Country Club" to play a short gig with the Edinburgh Samba School.
We were all dressed as "Santa Claus". It's very much a sweaty, itchy experience wearing these felt costumes. I have to admire those who sit all day wearing this garb and being relentlessly cheery. It's a tough job.
Our audience were a party from the Fife Constabulary on their Xmas night out.
They weren't our most appreciative audience, and looked uncomfortable as we blasted out our 15 minute set for them.
With hindsight,I think 5 minutes would have been plenty.
They were smiley and relaxed on our appearance. (There is after all something endearingly quaint about a samba band staffed exclusively by fully dressed Santas). But after the novelty had worn off they grew restless and grumpy.
In spite of all this, I have to say that I thought I played particularly brilliantly considering I hadn't samba played for approximately 26 years.

30/11/05 St Andrews Day

Giving it Large on St Andrews Night!

Of course he's the Patron Saint of Scotland in case you didn't know...
We don't really mark this day with any wild celebrations or anything. It's a similar tale with Saint George down south...whereas "St Patrick's Day" is a massive celebratory date in Ireland's calendar.
I think we should have a holiday.
Apparently, he was crucified upside down. Now, that is just nasty. As if it isn't just bad enough getting a "regular" crucifixion.
A holiday would allow us to contemplate and remember him. Obviously.
Only 8 people turned up for the show at The Stand on Wednesday. The acts then had a discussion and it was agreed to pull the show.
There wasn't a great deal of evidence of "The show must go on!" mentality.
However, we all still got paid...so mustn't grumble.
I did immediately give a dollop of cash back to The Stand by buying Dundee comedian Paul Pirie YET ANOTHER pint...He now owes me 2361 pints and 83455 cigarettes, but hopefully he'll remember me when he's famous and buy me a nice house by the seaside.
It was a shame as The Stand had put in a bit of effort for "St Andrews Day", giving everybody a free whisky at the door in honour of this suspicious occasion.
But, as I said earlier, no-one really gives a shit about this date in Scotland.

Other news ; I was honoured to be selected from thousands of comedian blogs to appear on "The Times" Obituary Writer and top stand-up comic Liam Mullone's web site,
as you can read here.
He does take the opportunity to have a go at the font on my web site ; deeming it worthy of use by a "Vicar".
This is probably fair comment, as the site definitely needs a makeover, as I do myself if truth be told.