Saturday 27 February 2010

No Cupid, that really isn't OK.

I have taken the plunge... Yes I did it yesterday afternoon, while bored in the office when my boss was working from home, and following conversations in the comments section below, where the general consensus was that I SHOULD try internet dating again. I've signed up to OKCupid. Butterfly said it was free and nicer than Match. She had me at 'free'. Well I'll try anything once and I think at least 3 people were in support of the general idea anyway, except for Becki Sproglet, (sorry Madame Poopypants) and Nate asked to hear about it here, so off we go.

I'm prepared to be proved wrong on this, but my first impressions were that OKCupid is the most confusing website I have ever had the misfortune to get myself involved in. It takes great pride in continually telling you what percentage complete your profile is, so from the get go, you feel like only a fraction of a person... 10% seems to be getting your name, gender, 3 adjectives about yourself and a picture up. (I chose the adjectives: Friendly, Funny and Intelligent - intelligent was a stretch, but I really wanted to crack on.) OK, so I'm 10% done... can I look for men now?

No. Now you must answer at least 25 questions out of a potential 4,000 questions. This will help Cupid match you appropriately. OK, answered 25 questions. I wish I could remember some of those, they were classic and VERY American. Anyway, I skipped some of the more freaky religious ones or ones about abortion and eventually I've answered 25 of them. Can I look for men now?

No. Now you must improve your profile by writing a 500 word essay about yourself. WTF? Oh hang on, no, wow look, I'm already getting messages. Within 10 minutes of being on the site and with only 30% of a profile I got an award from an old friend. Yes, he can confirm I am funny and that wasn't a lie. Ah, friendly, I know people here already. This could be fine.

Can I look at men now? No, you still have to write your 500 word essay. By this stage, I was losing the will to live and logged off of the system, thinking if I could just get my energy levels back up, I'd return to it from the comfort of my own home and do the essay. Then maybe I'd be able to look for men.

I logged off.

About an hour later. I get an email to tell me I've received my first message from someone wanting to talk to me on OKCupid. Wow. this is quite exciting actually. I quickly log into the site again... What does he say? This is what he said. I've cut and pasted it for your enjoyment:

Hi, I hope you dont mind me asking i have an unusual question.....my intention isnt to offend im just curious what you'd do. If you was really attracted to a guy really liked him but he told you he was submisive........and asked you to sit on his face and breakwind would you do it

I truly don't know where to start. I have so many problems with this question, not least the lack of any grammar whatsoever and I'm quite free and easy with my grammar. But holy shit people, what is this?

I feel like we are entering an exciting new age in 'Better Late Than Never' where I will take advice from people kind enough to comment on this blog. It is almost like one of those adventure novels where you decide the end yourself. What do I do next people?

a) Do I continue with my 500 word essay and my OKCupid adventure hoping this is an unhappy one off?

or

b) Do I ditch OKCupid and return to my original plan of getting back on Match?

or

c) Do I scrap the internet dating idea all together and go back to the drawing board of lonely singledom?

or

d) Do I write back and agree to break wind on this hypothetical person that I'm immensely attracted to... and see where that leads?

or

e) none of the above, because I'm still open to suggestions from the audience...

Thursday 25 February 2010

Laser update

My laser pen arrived in the post. Woohoo, this new super toy which will revolutionise Mornington's exercise regime. Or will it?

It is so much more than I ever could have hoped. Not only does it shine a little red light. It does actual writing AND there are two buttons, not one. What you may ask does the other button do?

I wondered that myself last night as I had just drunkenly and excitedly ripped open the parcel from Play.com and I hit one button: Little Red Dot, as expected. I hit t'other button and no more lights. What is that for I wondered... It was a mystery. I hit the button a few times and couldn't figure what it was for. One to be solved after I'd eaten burger, chips and had a good night's sleep.

This morning, I played again with my new laser toy. One button - little red dot, Other button - Ouchy ouch - An Electric Shock!! WTF? 1) Why? 2) How drunk had I been not to notice that last night!!?? Re 1) I assumed it was to keep yourself awake during boring meetings. Having shown the pen to a lot of colleagues at work, it appears it may actually be quite a funny prank. Ho ho ho.

I had good fun at work surprising people with the shock element of the new toy and most colleagues are already tired of me shining the little red dot at their computer screens while they are trying to work... Perhaps I will leave it at home tomorrow.

As for the cat... She is scared of the stupid laser!! How outrageously pathetic is this kitty of mine?! It is a little red dot! What is to be scared of? Oh well, it gets her off the sofa anyway, as she runs away as soon as I shine it in the same room as her...

I had a lovely time at Desperately Seeking Stagetime last night. (My 77th gig... it was bound to be a sweety - all the sevens :)) I had mucho beer and rounded off my evening with no falls, just veggie burger and chips (...as mentioned earlier during the laser anecdote). Then I had a delicious curry with Mum, Dad and brother Gary tonight. I had vegetable Jalfrezi and I didn't scrimp on sundries either. Another week of WW fail it seems!

I am still thinking of joining Match again. I especially enjoyed the debate that created on the last post... I think as long as I manage my expectations and don't go into the exercise hoping for anything in particular, it should be fine. I'll just see if I can meet a few new interesting people out of it and at very worst - get comedy material!?

Well people, Match or no Match - romance is in the air. I have been invited to a wedding. It is my brother's wedding. Just as well he invited me, as I'm already 800 pounds in debt to my Mum for a ticket to Sorrento, where it is taking place in July... The actual invite arrived by post today. Perhaps I shall stick it to the fridge to remind me why I'm trying to lose a stone and a half in weight.

They say there is no wedding list, but if you wish to buy a gift, John Lewis vouchers is what they'd like. Err yeah, about that. You want vouchers too? Get married somewhere cheaper to get to and stay at. Just a thought.

My nose keeps running and it would seem I am destined for my first cold of 2010. Arseholes.

Saturday 20 February 2010

One weekend: One trip to the vets, one day at the zoo and one death in the family

I've been putting it off and putting it off, but four months overdue, I booked my two kitties, Lucy and Mornington in for their annual health check and vaccinations on Saturday. It usually ends up costing me a fortune, so takes me a while from the due date to pluck up the courage to get it done.

9.30 a.m. was a bit of an early appointment, but I thought it would get me up and about. Of course I overslept. I rang the veterinary surgery to apologise. They were very kind and able to fit us in an hour later.

I got the two kitty travel boxes out on Friday night, because they need setting up early to dupe Mornington that they do not represent any threat. And sure enough, when the time came, all went smoothly in getting the kitties into the boxes. Mornington was not amused at being so easily duped and cried indignantly all the way to the surgery.

With two kitties to get checked and vaccinated, I thought I'd get Mornington's shame out of the way first as she is the overweight dandruffy one and I knew the vet would take one look at her and think to herself bad owner, get the RSPCA on the phone now.

To my chagrin, Mornington had put on 600 grams since her last weight check in August. She weighed in at a hefty 5.8 kilograms. To add insult to injury, I was told that if she sometimes has a tendency to wipe her botty on the floor and get dandruff, these are both linked to the weight issues too. It is possible she can't comfortably reach her botty to clean it in the traditional way (?) and fatties are renowned for their 'druff too! And it is all my fault. I hate myself!

I'd like to explain that the kitties only ever eat dry food, Iams or Purina One. I choose the low fat or senior varieties when they are in stock at the supermarket, which they are not always. It seems this is not good enough. Mornington is always destined to be a chubster without me continually carefully weighing portions and monitoring her diet much more closely and the vet gave me a choice. Keep her on a proper low fat diet (Hill's) - forever if need be - or watch her develop diabetes.

In terms of increasing Mornington's activity levels, the vet recommended a laser pen for the kitties to chase. She said you can sit on the sofa and shine the pen for them to chase. Was she trying to imply I can not be persuaded to get up and move about with the kitties? Offended? Yes, I was, although having said that, the first thing I did when I got home was order a laser pen! Aces, I'm still waiting for it to arrive in the post...

Back at the vets, I promised to encourage MC to play lots more and get her back on the Hill's r/d diet food straight away and so it was Lucy's turn.

Lucy doesn't like going to the vets, but no one got mauled on this occasion. Apart from a little bit of tartar, she is in good health and a healthy weight.

Yay me, 50% pet care success rate! Hmmm, no ok, not great.

2 health checks + 2 vaccinations + 2 cats wormed + 3 months supply of flea treatment for both cats + 7 kilos of Hill's r/d (I don't want to run out and have to feed them any old food.) + 1 bag cat nip + 1 cat nip cushion + VAT = £213. *gulps*. Thank heavens it is only once a year and fingers crossed I can get MC's weight back under control...

I spent Sunday at the zoo. The lion cubs are getting so big now. I still love them very much, even if that love is from a distance. Everywhere I went as part of my duties, volunteers were over subscribed at that particular location. Twice, I excused myself from said over crowded duty and flitted between places, enjoying a good old mooch about the zoo.

We ended the day with ferret handling, which is always fun. I do like a ferret! It was cold and damp though, so we cut the activity short, got the ferrets safely home before four pm and retreated to the pub. Becki Sprogs had come to join us for a few drinkies. There was quite a little group of volunteers and Becki. Our red jumpers getting us noticed by the locals...I had taken the rather radical decision of driving that day. I had two pints of weak lager shandy and jolly nice they were too. There were quite a few of us who had driven or had to be elsewhere by a certain hour, so it wasn't the usual drunken debauchery we have come to expect from post zoo drink ups.

After dropping Becki home, I got home myself not too late, around 8 or so, and had a missed call on my phone from my Mum. Her voicemail message said "Please give me a call when you get this message, but not from the pub please." Asking me not to return the call from the pub, wasn't Mum just getting at me for always being in the pub, she means she has something important (bad) to tell me.

She was blatantly referring to the time a few years ago, I spoke to her from the pub and she had to tell me that they'd had my other cat put to sleep. (my beautiful Birman Milly, whom I'd had since I was a teenager) I didn't take that news very seriously, not realising how upsetting it was for them. I knew they liked and cared for the cat, but also knew they were forever fed up with her for shedding hair everywhere and continually puking on the kitchen floor. I jokingly asked if they were going to get a puppy, now the cat was gone. In actual fact, although I'd moved away, Milly had remained a part of their little family unit, Mum, Dad and Milly. The decision to put her out of her suffering had not come easy to my Dad and they were very sad to see her go. I still get the pee taken out of me for my lack of sensitivity at that time.

On Sunday, when I got the voicemail, I was suddenly grateful I'd decided to drive to the zoo that day and glad to be home and sober and able to return Mum's call. Mum told me that my Nan had died that evening and told me a little bit about the events of the weekend that had led up to it. I won't go into detail, only to say that Nan was 90 years old, suffered from dementia and had been in and out of hospital for the last two months. She had a fall at New Year and had to have a broken hip replaced. Earlier this month, she had been admitted with kidney failure resulting in a five day stay in hopsital, while she was rehydrated. She had been back in the nursing home two weeks, but during the course of Saturday she had not been well, refusing food and drink. On Sunday, she had passed away peacefully.

I spoke to my Dad too (it was his Mum). He was quite choked up and that was upsetting to hear. I'm sad, more so for him. I wasn't incredibly close to my Nan. Over the past few years, I would only see her once or twice a year at most. My Dad would visit her every few days, but I only really saw her at Christmas or maybe on her birthday.

I have to go back quite a few years for memories of Nan before dementia. When I was a kiddy she and Granddad lived in a bungalow near Chislehurst Caves. They had a big gold fish pond and a big old garden that we kids would run around. I remember the stupidest things like Nan's orange squash was usually out of date and she over cooked and over salted all the vegetables she made us. Classic Nan stuff... She had been my last remaining grand parent, so it is a bit odd really... the passing of a generation. Nan's funeral isn't until the 15th March due to a cremation backlog in the borough of Bromley...

Speaking to my Dad yesterday, he was saying how it was 12 years since his Dad had died and 10 years before that since his Dad had fallen ill after his first stroke. So we say, ah Nan lived to 90 - she had a good life. She did have a good life, but even so, the last 22 years were tinged with sadness as she lived as a carer for my Granddad, then after he died, she had to get used to life on her own. Eventually dementia got the better of her and she had to adjust to life in a residential home. Old age certainly does seem to suck... Remind me again, why I'm trying to quit smoking...

Oh dear, sorry, I am limping off at some very miserable tangents. What else has been happening?

I put half a pound on at WW this week. Arse. I've only lost 5lb since I started, which feels like weeks and weeks and weeks ago. I am going to have to suck everything in for those photos at the weekend! A valuable lesson can be learnt from the past two weeks: If following an eating plan for weight loss, you do need to actually follow said plan for it to work, not just grumble about the fact you should be sticking to a plan, while munching chocolate topped shortbread, crisps and maltesers... oh and drinking booze and ordering take aways.

Actually I didn't drink as much as usual or eat any take away food last week, but clearly saw that as a green light to snuffle any unsuspecting cakes or biscuits that happened to cross my path! Oh, I've just stumbled... and curses, I've stumbled into Percy Ingles... I must try harder and do better this week. At least Mornington is suffering too. We can snuggle up together on the sofa, with the telly up loud, to drown out the sound of our rumbling tummies.

No comedy since last Wednesday. I really need to sort my comedy diary out as it is empty and bleak for the next few months. Hmpf.

Flat viewings continue, but I am not yet under offer. One of these days.... one of these days.

I am thinking of re-joining Match.com. I've seen adverts: They have a new Match IM coming soon. Talk me out of it ... please.

OK, I have some Personal Budget data to stare at. Important council stuff innit!! Actually someone just suggested it might be tea time, but I'm sure I'll stare at the PB data after that...

Laterz.

In Loving Memory, Joy Ogden, 1919 - 2010

A bit of a favour... Please.

Firstly, a warm welcome to my new follower Jack - Hi... Thank you for following. This favour may not apply to you so much, but join in if you fancy...

For those of you who have known me a little longer, you might find it easier to help with this... you might find it more difficult, but I know you love a challenge...

So, here's the thing - I'm biting the bullet and next weekend, I'm having photos taken. Photos of me. How did I reach this terrifying descent into the world of vanity and self obsession? The back story is fairly simple: last year I was asked for a photo of myself for a charity gig I was doing. (yes admittedly, this has only happened once so far in my 18 month open mic comedy career...) Nevertheless, it happened! When (if) it happens next time, I'd like to have a proper photo to give the promoter.

At the time, I provided a photo taken in the pub. My hair dresser took the picture for me, just after he had done my hair. Yes, I met my hair dresser in the pub. He doesn't cut my hair at the pub, we do that round his house, then go to the pub to show off the new do straight after. He works in a proper salon in the day time and is a friend as well as someone I know from the pub.

Anyway, back to this photo situation. I liked that photo. I've even posted it for you here, but it is already on facebook and twitter, so not a massive surprise.


It obviously isn't a professional shot, which is what the other three comics on the bill of the charity gig were able to provide. So, I'm having some taken and it is happening a week from today. Giada (who'll be taking the pics) has said it should be fun, but I'm reserving judgment on that until I can see if she can capture me without my eyes drifting off in all directions and me generally looking like a mong. As if I weren't anxious enough about my first (and probably last) photo shoot, I've been asked to do homework before I go! Yes, homework and this is where you come in. Below is an extract from an email from Giada. See what you think:

"unless you already have very specific ideas about what kind of photos you want, I'd suggest this exercise... think of 3 adjectives to describe your act. Maybe ask some friends too as your perception can be different from how the audience sees you.* This will give us a starting pont to identify your voice on stage and try to represent it in the photos"

This reminds me of the Walking Tall personal branding course I went on. Hmmm, that was fun too. Even asking for these words seem incredibly vain, but can you help? If we all come up with depressed drunk cat woman, perhaps I'll cancel the photo shoot and chuck myself in the Thames instead.

I don't think you'll let that happen. Will you? Please - 3 words each, be honest, but not too honest. Put them in a comment here, in an fb message, in an @Oggers76 tweet or in an email, depending on how well you know me and if you have a blogger account or are just passing by...

Oh, if you haven't seen my act, you could still have a bash at this, base your answers on as little or as much as you might have read in the blog. It could all help.

Mucho thank yous in advance people.

At the very least, good or bad - there will be more pictures in this blog at some stage soon!!

While I've been writing this post, that NHS advert about 'drink can do damage you can't see'. Honestly, sometimes I wish the NHS would fuck right off and I haven't even had a drink since Wednesday.

Thoughts

Hey up chicken, what you been up to?

I’ve been having a little thinky.

Cripes, you whisper to yourself it is a dangerous day when Oggers has a thought (or two in this case). Well probably not, but let's just wait and see shall we...

Thought number 1.

Maybe I was never really addicted to cigarettes. Maybe I was just addicted to the cigarette counter in the supermarket. I’ve been buying lucky dips for all the lotto draws, midweek, Euromillions and Saturday draws ever since I stopped smoking over four weeks ago. I don’t play lotto online like I used to. No, I go to the shop. I don’t think this is just coincidence. I think I’m hooked on the cigarette counter experience.

I'm still not a millionaire, but I think I'm marginally better off than on the fags. If I win the lottery, do I get to start smoking again?

Thought number 2.

For the life of me I can’t remember what the other thought was. Don’t worry it will come to me at some stage.

Thursday 18 February 2010

Gig update. Preparation, preparation. Meh.

I was on at Glee 17 last night at the Rose and Crown pub in Walthamstow.

As I'd been told it was a joint headline spot, I wasn't actually expecting to be on last, but my co-headliner (rival) couldn't make it after all, which meant I was to headline the night over all and indeed after all... (no foul play or tragic accidents arranged by me, she just couldn't make it.) Yes, I learnt this at 7.30 last night, when I arrived at the pub. It is roughly a ten-fifteen minute spot, according to what you want to do, from what I can gather.

At which point, it sort of dawned on me, a bit late in the day, that I wasn't really geared up (prepared) for a headline spot. Previously having talked myself into believing it didn't really count as a proper headline, just a bit of a nice extended set... Eeek, what now? Well, I had some new material (tried once) and some really old material (only tried three times and not used in the last 18 months.) and some other bits and pieces, that if I put it all together, it was long enough, but possibly not good enough and could I even remember it...

Arse.

Well it was happening, whether I liked it or not. I still had the interval to try and put some structure to what I had got and read through the old stuff.

The night definitely has a certain charm to it. A sort of haphazard anything could happen kind of charm. It is a great room for comedy and the promoters are lovely guys, but (and I'm sure they would agree to this), they are still learning how to make the night reach its full potential.

There were about sixteen acts on during the night and a nice variety of acts too. The promoters are actively encouraging first timers and really new newcomers and I think the audience accept that and enjoy the evening even if some of the acts struggle a little bit. Hopefully everyone, acts and audience alike, was having some fun.

As for my headline. Well I did enjoy myself, I'm fairly sure the audience enjoyed it. It was nice to resurrect my Albanian for a night. He needed a little dusting off, and I did forget a bit of the tale that a callback later on relied on, but people still laughed and liked the local E17 references in the story. It was one of those gigs where people were complimentary after, but things felt a bit different for me.

I didn't get the same buzz I usually get. Had I not drunk enough? Perhaps not, but the feeling I was left with was: I want to do better. The audience had enjoyed it, but I didn't blow anyone away...I should have known and practiced my stuff more. It was a privilege to be asked to close the night and I can't afford to take those opportunities for granted.

That sounds like Norm, but it's true. Is this what they call drive and motivation? I'm not sure I like it. Oh cripes. Am I getting addicted to comedy? I'm not sure I like that either. I'm certain it will pass. Perhaps it is something I've eaten. Please do not panic dear reader. See my next entry, when I bring back apathy and depression.

One thousand apologies, much thanks and lots of love to Becki for putting up with me being a bit needy post gig. I think I'm still living with the after shock of the two minute gong on Sunday and need a bit of reassurance that it isn't all that bad.

In other news. I've just had the estate agent round taking new pictures of the flat. He didn't like the old pictures as much as he thought he did. No, it is fine that he waited over three weeks to decide that. Fine!

He talks sooo much. He was telling me about getting in touch with my inner five year old, as according to something he read somewhere, that is the purest most unadulterated form of who you are. I said "That is all very well, but would you mind getting in touch with your inner estate agent and selling my freaking flat please?"

Alas, I didn't really say that. I said "oh yeah, when I was five I liked animals and showing off".

So there might be some truth in it after all.

I can hardly wait to see the new pictures of chez Ogs and hope they attract my perfect buyer. He or she has to be out there somewhere...

OK, even working at home lunchtimes have to end sometimes. Back to the grind for me people...

Oh, straw poll... More pictures in this blog? Views anyone? It is getting very wordy around here. Sorry.

Happy Thursday x


Wednesday 17 February 2010

Gigs 73, 74, 75 and 76 …

Gig 73 was at Party Piece over a week ago now. I felt more than a smidge like I let myself down as I didn’t want to do my brother material (again) but didn’t really prepare enough stuff to fill the five minutes. I probably stayed on stage for closer to three minutes and a fair bit of that was filler, rather than thriller. I have to say, the night over all was good fun, as it usually is.

The night plays on my mind, not because I didn’t even muster five minutes of material, but because by the time I left the venue, I found myself very staggery drunk and not sure how to get home. Well, I know the way home, but almost immediately after leaving the venue, I fell over (not sure how many fellow comics may have witnessed that)… grazed my hand and obviously got myself all shook up.

I got a bus to Seven Sisters, where I found the tube was not open and I was not at all sure what bus I’d need, or if indeed there are any that could take me directly back to Walthamstow. Whilst I wobbled about and tried to focus on the night bus map, I got approached by some guy. I don’t remember what exactly he said or did, but he managed to scare me and feeling like everything was getting out of control, I did what any self respecting drunk would do and started sobbing.

Somehow, I had enough sense left to abandon all hope of finding a bus and instead telephoned my local cab company. Yes, still sobbing. The bus stop man was still lurking around and the guy in the cab office was sweet enough to stay on the line while I waited for the cab to turn up.

The cab thankfully didn’t take too long at all to arrive and I was soon home safe and sound.

So: I don’t know if anyone saw me fall over near the venue. I don’t know what this guy did to freak me out, but we’ll give him the benefit of the doubt and just say he tried to chat up the wrong person, a woman already on the brink of a drunken emotional outburst anyway.

The night as a whole has been quite sobering food for thought as I know when I go out drinking, stay out late and try to get home alone, I’m already putting myself in danger. I KNOW that, but I tend to ignore it. I laugh in the face of danger. I think I’m a bit street wise and can handle oddballs and think that even if I’m drunk, I can still take care of myself. I’m not about to put myself under house arrest or stop having fun, because I’ll be honest, I’d die of boredom sooner than I’d ever die of a drunken mishap.

However… I was lucky last Tuesday not to have had my drunken fall in front of a moving vehicle. I was lucky that I’m just a bit embarrassed about crying at a cab controller over a weirdo at a bus stop and not crying in hospital about an actual attack by someone nastier or more persistent. I shouldn’t let myself lose control like that and it might just be the shock I needed.

I did drink a hell of a lot last Tuesday. I need to remember that is one thing when I’m travelling home with Becki or I’m not half starved because of Weight Watchers and taking prescription drugs to quit smoking that could worsen the effects of alcohol. I generally need to be more careful and maybe even drink a bit less. Just a bit less.

Gig 74 was The Leicester – Should I Stay or Should I go Gong. My buddy Norm has written about it. His link is to the side of this page.

Norm was kind enough not to mention how I got gonged off only 2 minutes into my set. Perhaps this should be called gig 73.5. As yet, the counting of gigs has not been reduced down to the counting of minutes on stage, so I hope you’ll let me off that one.

I learnt a hell of a lot on Sunday and to that end, I think we can say it still counts.

Not a gig, but on Sunday afternoon, I was lucky enough to hear Adam Bloom talk to a class of new comedy school students. I haven’t gone back to school yet, but was invited in for that session. It was ace. He was very inspiring.

Back in the saddle for Gig 75. I went to the Lion’s Den last night. We could dig over the old debate and controversy of pay to play, but I enjoyed the night. I paid my four pounds and I had fun. Now, I’m not one to judge other acts, but there is quite a broad mix of quality at the Den *ahem* - not all of it good. People have to have somewhere to learn and it is a pretty safe environment there to do so… Acts know what they are getting and so do the punters. No one gets hurt.

I went on about mid way through the second of three sections. Not too early, not too late, but when I went on, the few acts before me had struggled, people talking at the bar were getting hushed and the energy in the room wasn’t fantastic. Perhaps that just made me think, oh well, it might not be pretty, but I may as well say what I’m here to say. I wanted to try out some new ideas before today.

To be honest, I lasted until I got my little light shining and I think people were enjoying it. I was enjoying trying out some new stuff.

A success!?

I’m leaving now for gig 76. I was offered a headline spot at my local new act night – Glee 17, but it seems I’m now sharing said headline and I didn’t quite make into any publicity other than the facebook invite... I’ll propose he still allows me a ten spot, offer to do it to close the first half and have a few more pints there after.

Even I can stagger home from there and if I play my cards right, I might even have a Sproglet with me…

Thursday 11 February 2010

Terrible things you shouldn’t say when someone dies.

Last night, I learnt that a friend of mine, who I’ve known since University died at the weekend. We hadn’t seen each other in a few years, but chatted on facebook and had intended to get together for drinks, but never quite got our acts together.

This is obviously very sad for his family. I was shocked and upset. I can’t imagine what they are going through. He was only a few years older than me.

I was talking about this with my team mates earlier as I’ve been invited to the funeral and I’m trying to decide if I should go or not.

This afternoon, I got a completely unrelated facebook friend request from someone on the comedy circuit and I said to my colleague. “Ah, I just got a new friend request. Well, you win some you lose some.”

My colleague laughed and so did I, but now I feel pretty terrible.

RIP Jeremy.

Lost and Found

If you should find any of the following items, please could you return them to me as soon as possible?

1. My ability to drink copious amounts of alcohol without turning into a sobbing idiot.
2. My twenties. Yeah, where did they go?
3. My happy go lucky outlook on things, oh no, sorry that must have belonged to someone else.
4. The funny bits of my comedy set.
5. Anything vaguely resembling a sex life.
6. Pages 1 to 32 of my A to Z. (It fell apart and I seem to only have maps of South and West London left. Who even goes there?)
7. My Moschops t-Shirt. Admittedly, this has been missing about 25 years, but by Christ, I loved that t-shirt.

Yes, so please do let me know if you should stumble across any of these things...Thanks x

Sunday 7 February 2010

Sunday is a day of rest, so I'll make this quick.

If I could do blogging this good featuring amazing kitties like (mine). I would. I mean I could, I just well you know....

As it is, I'm busy doing nothing, and helping out at - ya know the zoo and drinking free wine at the comedy school, god bless 'em, I never link to their top notch charity page, coz I is lazy - ahem busy. but do google the comedy school. I've promised them 1 million pounds if I win 113 million on the Euro Millions next week... I'm not promising anyone else that.

Oh for those 2.2 readers who don't speak to me on a daily basis,
  • gig 72 was smashing cheers, lovely feedback and yeah, 3 gigs 'pencilled' in for the next 7 days, so we'll see if I make it to all of those/do any good.
  • I lost 4.5 lbs on WW in 2 weeks (not expecting much from this week)
  • I haven't smoked in over 2 weeks while I've been about it.
  • Knitting is slow to say the least. (That must be what happens when you are knitting for yourself. I do remember the last and only scarf I made for myself took 3+ years... This one is about 3 weeks, but still miles off.)
  • Work is as always...
  • Still lonely and grumpy, but see above for all the stuff I'm doing to keep the badness at bay. you know, playing the lottery and letting friends take comedy photos of my feline friends.
  • I said I'd write about the Estate Agents. You wouldn't effing believe it if I did.
  • Oh yeah, my Nan got sick. She is very old, but hopefully ok for now...
My bed is calling and I wish bloggers were barred from bullet points. More soon, kiss kiss, hug hug etc etc...