Frustratingly topical

I keep getting involved in discussions about this whole Russell Brand/Jonathan Ross/Andrew Sachs thing and I don’t know why. I don’t even care about it despite being a fan (albeit of slowly dwindling fandom) of Russell Brand, I get irritated when it’s all over the news and I don’t fully understand it, so why do I put myself through it?
Well… seeing as we’re here… The issues I raised with several people (pre-Brand resignation) were:
-Why did it take over a week for people to listen to the show and become outraged?
-Why were there originally two complaints that have since turned into over two-thousand?
-What exactly is it people are getting offended by? The fact that a pre-recorded show which featured Jonathan Ross saying “fucked” was allowed to be aired? Or the fact that Andrew Sachs was understandably pissed off by two “entertainers”?

Let’s not get confused here, I listened to the show before the hype and tutted, thinking ”Guys, don’t you know how not to take things too far? And you could have easily pressed ‘1′ during the answerphone message to change it…”
When the hype did start up, I agreed that they brought it on themselves (while still not being fully aware of why such a fuss was made) by thinking that they can get away with everything. I still don’t know why people were apparently offended though. Surely the only people who have the right to be so are Andrew Sachs and his family?

I presumed that the BBC would suspend the two, then claim they were getting fined or disciplined in some private way (not in that way, you slags) and we’d hear nothing more of it. However, saying this, I wasn’t really surprised when I got a text at 6pm yesterday from a friend saying “Russell’s resigned from radio 2!” Honestly, I think that’s been a long time coming and he’s probably been looking for a way out for a while. The radio show is not as good as it used to be and I always presumed this was due to Russell’s focus on trying to break America as opposed to his focus on being funny. The past few weeks, however, his lovely co-host (and the reason I’d been tuning in for the last few months) Matt Morgan has not been present, which has made a few people anxious. Were we going to have another Trevor Lock situation on our hands? Anyway, with him resigning, this means Matt will be out of a job, which is my main concern as he is genuinely hilarious and was, for me, the highlight of the show. I’d really love to hear what Mr Morgan has to say on this whole fiasco, but somehow, I think we’ll never know… 

This entire affair hasn’t brought out any strong emotions in me. If anything, all that I really want to do as a result is just watch some Fawlty Towers.

Christ, I feel so disappointed in myself for writing over 476 words about that, but I just needed to get it out while I still remembered everything I’d been saying to everyone else. Mr Gee’s written a poem about it, basically wondering why people are getting so outraged by it all when there are worse things to be worrying about. It can be found here.

Right, let’s not continue with this nonsense. In other news! The pub quiz was very funny last night. As it was Slain’s, the most “haunted” of all pubs up here, the halloween theme was predominant. When we paid our £1 to enter, we got given a Slain’s mug and lots of crap. We felt we were already winners. We ended up doing insanely well, but missing out on prizes by one and a half points. (This is the last I’ll say on this, but I liked that one team was called “Russell Brand Had Sex With My Granddaughter” and another was called “Jonathan Ross Did Too”)
We only went to Revolution for about 2 minutes and ended up at the Old School House much earlier than normal, then Exodus, where I bumped into my tequila soaked cousin and texted an old amigo that I’ve not spoken to properly in ages.

This week, I have mainly been watching Dead Set. Obviously. ‘Cos, I mean… it’s Brooker, innit?
I’ve sort of become desensitised to gore from seeing countless zombie films in the past, so, while still enjoying the show immensely, none of the gorey bits gave me any reaction. Until the bit with the fire extinguisher in episode one and a certain housemate’s death in episode three.
These incidents alone prompted me to order the dvd of the series from play.com and message Charlie Brooker on myspace (I know, I know, I’m a degenerate, but it’s the first place I thought of.)
Usually I wouldn’t divulge the contents of my sent-box (that’s not a euphemism) to anyone, but in my sycophantic haze, I appear to have unwittingly proposed to him:
“I keep missing Dead Set at night due to pretending to have a social life, so have been watching on channel4’s online catch-up in the mornings. I’ve seen enough zombie films to de-sensitise me almost completely, so, as much as I was appreciating the fantastic concept and writing and general goodness of the whole show, I wasn’t reacting much to the gore except with wide-eyed glee. Until the fire extinguisher exploits of episode one. Oh dear god, that was, for want of a better word, “deadly”.
And this morning as I tuned in with a bowl of Rice Krispies (That may be a lie. I wasn’t really eating as I watched, but it’s nice to construct an image sometimes) I felt close to vomiting at Grayson’s death, mainly due to the sound effects. Christ!
Anyway, this bloody tv show that hasn’t even finished airing yet along with everything else you’ve ever done (I’ve put both Screenburn and Dawn of the Dumb into the staff recommendations bay at W-stone’s. Mmm… books endorsed by “the man”…) has made me realise that a proposition needs to be made, for thou art truly one of the greatest men around: Charlie Brooker, will you marry me? (These things are best done through the medium of myspace, obviously…)
Keep it up, good sir.
I can only hope that when this is over, there’ll be more Screenwipe and possibly round two of Nathan Barley..?
Avenge,
xk”Apparently Screenwipe will return on the 18th November and something the Brooker cannot give any information on is coming in January (c’mon NB2…)

 

How exciting.

Now, go about your business, move along, nothing to see here.

A year’s a long time when you’re doing nothing with your life

ARGH! ARGH! Fucking ARGH!

Round Two: The Screaming Ocelot

Here is London, giddy London, is it home of the free or what?

Well, yes, is the answer to that question.
What a week, what a week. Let’s start at the start. Tuesday. I’ll try skip the boring bits.
Again, I packed at the last minute and was paranoid I’d forgotten something. I got taken to the airport for about 12.30pm, in plenty of time for our 2.05pm flight. We checked in our bags and everything, then found out our plane was delayed an hour and a half. We started our London book (which is pretty effing special, if I had a working scanner, I’d scan the imaginary arse off of it and post it for you) and wrote our grievances. Then we uttered the phrase “to the bar?” which was to set the tone. We sat in the bar in the departure lounge for freakin’ ages. But I said I’d skip the boring bits.
Anyway, we ended up on the plane at about 4pm, eventually getting into London an hour later. We got on the Heathrow Express to Paddington, then various delayed tubes to Old Street. After some confusion where we decided that the Travelodge didn’t actually exist, we eventually found it. We went to room 108, were shocked at how small it was compared to our large converted dining hall of a room in Edinburgh, dumped our cases and went out in search for food.

“Uh… what?”

The only place to go was Chicken Cottage. Oh dear. That was after trying to find our way out of the Travelodge. Exciting. We got back to the place, ate and watched Mitchell and Webb and Flight of the Conchords. Then abused a pig…

Baz went for a shower, then I did, only to return to her watching one of Dawn Porter’s shows on polygamy. Funtimesss! Then to bed! We’d both had showers and were ready for bed before we noticed that there was no spare duvet, so Laura (whose turn it was to sleep on the couch) would have frozen to death. So I set some ground rules and allowed her to share my lovely bed. I’m such an amazing friend. And thus, day one was complete. Transport didn’t allow us to explore like we had planned, but still, I was in London, so found it hard to complain about anything.

Wednesday. Booshday.
I woke up to this and laughed.

We awoke relatively early, had some tea and watched Jeremy Kyle. Classy ladies. Then, as we were getting ready to head out to ol’ Camden Town, This Morning with Kerry Katona. As we watched, cringing, I told Laura, “I think we’re watching something quite significant. A sort of bleak history being made…” (Later on the tube, as I perved on a man in front of me’s copy of the London Paper, I saw some stills of Katona and pointed out that we had indeed watched history being made)
Camden appeared to have shut down. I was hoping to introduce Laura to the wonders of the Stables, but half the places in there were shut. We decided we’d return on Friday. I can’t really remember what we did for the rest of the afternoon… think we ended up at Carnaby Street at one point though, which was nice. I was suitably impressed that I found the framed Velvet Underground poster I’ve been wanting for ages in Urban Outfitters. It had been on their site for ages for £20, but it was on sale and had a sticker on it for £9.99, so I went to buy it. Only to be told it was £4.99. Awesome fucking Welles. We returned to the Travelodge at some point, had a little dance and some more tea and then headed out to Brixton at about 6pm. I figured we’d take ages to find the Academy, but it’s pretty hard to miss, so Baz was taking pictures of the place by 6.30. A guy who managed to work his way into her photo came up to us and asked why she was taking pictures of him. She showed him and said “I can easily cut you out if you want…” and zoomed in to show him that he could be edited. He said to keep him in as a souvenir. Then offered us some drugs, which we politely declined. Aaah, the first person we encounter in Brixton offers us crack. I do love that.
We saw the queue at the Academy and started walking down the opposite side of the road. It was then that I heard someone from behind us, “Kirsten?”
“Yes..?”
“Hi, I’m with Julie, she’s just over there texting!”
Jubey! So I went over and said a quick hello, but, as me and Baz feel awkward queue-jumping, we said we’d catch up with her inside and moved to the back. I texted Sarah to say we were in line and to ask if she was nearly there. Then sent her “PS: We’re right behind the Crack Fox, Rudi and Betamax. That’s a sentence I never thought I’d type…” It was just then that who walks by but Ricardo Fulchero. I did a silent spazz-out and resisted shouting, “Rich! It’s me, I stalk you sometimes!” but did text Sarah. She turned up at about 6.50pm with no ticket and no Lynsey. As the queue started to move, she knew she’d have to wait behind, so I said to text when she was in. We got in and I purchased some elbow patches, then some booze, then sat down. The first thing that struck me was that the Academy seemed really small compared to how it looks on the dvd. I figured we’d be really far left, but our seats were fantastic. So, we spoke to Jubey a bit about numerous hard-hitting topics, namely Julian Barratt’s testicles. I don’t think we did discuss those, actually, but it made the sentence sound better.
The show began and already we could see differences. If you don’t want to see spoilers, look away now… It’s not gonna be majorly spoilery, but still, I’ll go red when it’s safe to read again.
So… instead of last time when Bobby Bob Bob came out to introduce Future Sailors, he just went on the mic to do so. They did the song and it was good. Their curtain chat has improved and they did some funnies. A big change was at Bobby Bob Bob’s introduction, he came out and led a dance class. A highlight of the show, one might say. I know that next time I’m in Exodus I’ll be Feeding The Chickens and asking Where Were You Last Night?
Can’t really remember a lot of it. Um… Crack Fox turned up, we’d not seen him live before, so that was cool… and terrifying. Especially good to hear him giggling half Julian/half Crack Fox at, “Ma nose has come loose!”
To top it all, he did an amazing rendition of Ride On Time by Black Box. That Black Box Crack Fox has a career in 90s anthems.
Naboo and Bollo were introduced in the same way as on opening night, but Bollo didn’t get fired this time.
The Moon got introduced, but the projector wasn’t working, so you could only see the outline. This was odd, but very funny. Julian came out afterwards and commented on how that was the dark side of the moon.
Tony Harrison was back, still having chair problems. Krakow seemed to drag on a bit this time, which was a shame. Grip!
Apparently in other shows, Rudi had appeared during Eels, but on opening night, it was the corpse of Jimi Hendrix, this time it was just Mr Barratt.
At the end of the first half, I went to get some drinks and tracked down Sarah and Lynsey at the last minute. A very brief encounter.
Second half was pretty much the same as on opening night but with one exciting exception. That bloody tour whore. I did a bit of a squee when she came out and Laura laughed at me. Uncle Rich has good bloody legs! And can work a pair of heels. Well done, sonny Jim m’lad…
It ended in the same way as the first show we saw did, with Nanageddon (Mike was hilarious during it) and Charlie, but with I Did A Shit in the middle. Strange. A lot of people rushed to the front of the stage. Again, strange, but nice.
Although ultimately I enjoyed it, and it was less chaotic than on opening night, there still was something that wasn’t quite right. It’s like… in September, I presumed that by October they’d have a proper show put together, but it’s still the same, only without the chaos which made it seem funnier the first time. It’s good to see it’s still adapting though. My next one’s at the end of November, so we’ll see how that goes.

You may continue reading, traveller.

Met up with Sarah, Jubey and her mum outside afterwards, then lost Jubey and her mum, which was a bit of a shame ‘cos I’d told Jubey that we’d have to meet Julian. We spotted Simon (Mc)Farnaby, but didn’t approach him. His hair is mighty impressive though. We hung around for a bit afterwards, but not too long. We decided to catch a bus to Elephant and Castle and then get a tube from there. So that we did. Laura pointed out this on the tube.

Oo-er! I like it.

We left Sarah and headed back to the Travelodge. We were rather tired and I do believe we went straight to bed.

Thursday was our touristy day. We woke up early and got a tube to Madame Tussaud’s. There was no queue, so all was well. I didn’t take many pictures, sadly, but Laura did. She’s not uploaded my favourite ones yet (hugging Oscar Wilde, giving Hitler a severe ticking off, etc) but here’s some I do like…

“I ‘ate you, Tom Cruise!”

Angelina and Brad’s newest adopted child.

I just haven’t got the range…

Kicking Bishop Brennan Up The Arse…

C’mere, Wineho, give us a cuddle…

“Aww, look at you with your Grandad, Laura… Ghandad…”

Which one’s better? Only one way to find out: FIGHT!!!

We were almost done, but made our way up to the new Quantum Of Solace part where we were accosted by a spy. He asked where we were from and what were our plans (Dungeons, Eye, food, Kings Arms, blad.) and where his invite to the pub was. A strange gentleman, remaining in character. Even when showing Laura how to pose with the Bondy…

Sadly, I wasn’t quick enough to get a photo of him demonstrating, which included a camp leg-lift.

He came out of character just as we were leaving. I shouted “See you at the King’s Arms!” at him. He said he would (but he didn’t, the square)

We got out at about 12pm and decided to go on a Hop On Hop Off bus. Pricey, but Baz has never really done the tourist in London thing, so I wasn’t gonna shit on it for her!
Some generic photos…

HA! Topical…

Southwark and London Bridge. Swoon.

I still don’t think I’ve ever been in, but I do love that darned building…

We got off the bus at Tower Bridge and walked to the Dungeons. We were in the hood. Lovely Borough… Again, no queues. We got in and I got to pose for a photo where I would chop Laura’s head off. I did love the whole place though. Especially when I saw a sign for the Frying Pan pub and heard the music from Monsieur Berry’s Lay Your Love On Me and did a bit of a spazz out. Then we got to the Ripper bit and I was off my tits on happiness again. Sadly though, not an Ollie, a Nick or a Terry in sight. Ah well! I woulda just laughed too much at Nick anyway.
By the time we got out, we decided we’d go get some food, then go do the Eye. We ended up on another bus and then at Hard Rock where I enjoyed an actual meal and a mojito. It was here that we decided we’d go on the Eye in the morning. Then one of the friendly waitresses spoke to us and discovered that the people at the next table were from Aberdeen too. You can’t escape the effers.
We returned to the Travelodge and later headed to London Bridge where we met Lynsey and Sarah who took us to the King’s Arms. It transpired Sarah had ended up following a certain creamy-voiced hero about 30 minutes before she met up with us. Lucky sod!
We got to the pub, I bought some drinks and we managed to fight for a seat. It was oddly busy, but I suppose, Thursday night… Lynsey couldn’t stay for long as she was in demand, but it was lovely to see her. I told her I’d have to make another gruelling Megabus journey down in the near future and I’d hear all her tales of Amerikee then. We didn’t stay there much longer either because it was a bit noisy and busy, so we went to the Rose instead and got a few drinks, told stories and Sarah drew a star. Very pretty. She’d been talking that pub down to me for ages and yes, the table was slightly sticky and it was quite dark, but it was friendly and interesting, so I fell in love with it a bit. I’ll make a triumphant return.

Crappy photo takin’ skillz.

We walked to the bus station and got on a bus to Moorgate. I gave Sarah a hug and wished her well on all of her endeavors (again, that last bit didn’t happen, but it sounded good) and we got off at Moorgate and walked to the Travelodge.

Friday was our scheduled Eye/zoo/shopping day. We woke up later than planned though so had to queue a tiny bit for the Eye. I think I’m with my sister rather than with Laura on this one, it wasn’t really worth it. You can only see so much, you couldn’t even see Tower Bridge. Still, an experience, I suppose! We ended up getting a tube to Oxford Circus and shopping for the most of the afternoon. I couldn’t help but think “Hold on, why are we in Frasers and Debenhams when we’re in London?”
I didn’t buy much, but did get a new watch when we returned to lovely lovely Carnaby Street.

I really need a better camera…

Before we knew it, it was after 5, so we went back to the hotel, dumped our crap and I got to charge up my phone which had run out of juice. I felt so bad to see that I’d missed texts from Gracie and Babyd. Bloody time and bloody phone!
We ended up going in search of Frankie and Benny’s (for it is our local at home…) which, by some miracle, we managed. We had some food and some cocktails, then headed for the Ice Bar. We did start going the wrong way, which resulted in us being ten minutes late, but it didn’t make much of a difference. We got in, got capes thrown over us and thrown into a freezing little room. Funtimes! I was most excited to be wearing a cape, to be honest. We got our free drink, which wasn’t amazing, but was in a glass made of ice, so who was I to complain?

Capey capey…

Being here did allow us to overuse Boosh tundra quotes. Especially,
“Wow… Frosty…”
“You said it, bitch.”

and “I am a Parka Person…”

Thirty minutes flew by and we all got kicked out. Outside, the harsh air felt strange without my giant cape weighing me down. The original plan was a makeshift pub-crawl, but we ended up just going back to the Travelodge. Laura had a bath to have.

So, we did the usual walk home, taking in the sights in the dark for the last time…
Oliver’s Yard and the Lesbian Mansion had become like home to us… cough cough…

We returned to the ‘lodge, drank Pimm’s and watched tv, sadly awaiting the hours to tick down that would signify our return to the ‘Deen…

In the morning, we woke, did last minute packing and got paranoid about forgetting things again. I took one last picture of the spectacular building that had been opposite us all week.

We all bloody live in castles. How I long for a bungalow.

Then to the tube station where we waved goodbye to the cleverly named shops and… soup places.

Did ya see what they did there? Nice.

We got to Heathrow pretty bloody quick. Too quick, it turned out ‘cos we couldn’t check our bags in for another two hours. This time was spent reading Heat and various books and taking phonecalls that made me sigh with inevitable defeat. When 1.40pm eventually came around, we checked in our bags and walked through to the shopping centre/departures of T5. Again, not much to report. I bought my parents some chocolate, but that’s about as exciting as it got. The Pimm’s was not cheap for us, so we didn’t bother. Soon enough, we got on our plane. We were supposed to get home at 4.40pm, but coming up to Dyce, we were swaying about like a motherbitch and I got a bit anxious, we ascended and there was no mention of what just happened. Five minutes later, we were told we were going back to Glasgow as it was too windy to land in Aberdeen. Christy. When we got there, we were told they didn’t have enough fuel to wait for the wind to die down, so were refuelling and would go up again. Hurrah for the deathplane.
In this weather an’ all…

We finally got home without dying after 7pm. Grr… I was pleased to see my A Bit of Fry and Laurie box set had arrived while I was gone, so I ordered a chinese and watched it.
The next day, I had work, which was surprisingly alright. As was yesterday’s. Just cold.
Today, I woke up to see snow on the ground. I really am home… And I’m not loving it.

I was quite heartened by the fact that my mother was endorsing going to London every so often by myself on the plane. I’d like to do this lots… before eventually moving there, obviously! I still don’t quite know what the work situation is, but new year in LDN looks likely. I’d freakin’ love that. I need to go down by myself for a few days to just do whatever I like and meet up with various friends without feeling guilty for not doing what someone else wants to be doing. I need a bit of me-time!

Right, this blog is currently over 3142 words, so I’m going to head off. My tv was hijacked last night, so I didn’t get to see Dead Set. I’m going to watch it just now. I am rather excited. Charlton Brooker is somewhat of a god.

It’s been sweet, but I’m over and out.

You’ll always have someone, someone to drive you home…

The Long Blondes have split. This is the worst news I’ve heard in a long time. This lowers my ‘I’m-not-out-of-touch-look-at-the-modern-bands-I-like!’ count severely!
Doz put out a bulletin on myspace with the news.
“We have decided to call it a day.
The main reason for this is that I suffered from a stroke in June and unfortunately I do not know when / if I will be well enough to play guitar again.
On behalf of the band I’d like to say a big thank you to anyone who ever came to one of our shows, bought one of our records or danced to one of our songs in a club. Thank you, if it wasn’t for you the whole thing would have been pointless.
Finally on a personal note, thanks for all your well wishing messages.
Dorian xxx”

I remember he’d been really ill in June and was hospitalised, but I didn’t realise he’d had a stroke. Gaaah, it’s so sad! They’re lovely! I remember when my dear friends were touring with them and Jamie told Dorian that I loved him and I was mucho embarrassed. I had lovely conversations with Screech before they sound-checked, in one of which he suggested that the band become a bit more Tilly And The Wall-esque so he could basically tap dance. Maybe I felt it coming… On the way to work yesterday, I said to the mother “The next album I put on I’m putting on ‘cos I don’t think either of us has listened to it in a while…” and played Someone To Drive You Home.  Damn, kids, this has made me more sad that I would have expected.

But, on the plus side they have released a beautious new album of demos from before they were signed to Rough Trade.

C’mon, gang, let’s buy it…

Gaaah!
I hope Dozzer recovers fully though, that’s a bit of a shocker…

And you don’t have to worry that much about the future
And it’s not as if you ever did before
Because you’ll always have everything, just as you want it
And there’ll always be a phone to ring at three in the morning
And you’ll always have someone who’ll drive you home,
Yes, you’ll always have someone
Someone to drive you home.

Where is my hat and who is your mum?

I’ve had a bit of a dull one if I’m honest with you, el diary.
Since my last update… what’ve I done? I went to work on the Wednesday, still felt like aids so didn’t bother going to the quiz that night. Thursday, I had a day off, so went into town (‘cos I’m not there enough… cough) and Friday I was working at 3-6pm.

Yesterday I went with the mother to see how ol’ Annie was getting on after her operation. She claims none of her nieces call her Annie. I told her we all do. THIS IS AN OUTRAAAAAGE. She didn’t quite do that, she just threatened to disown us. It was a flying visit. I had a cup of tea then buggered off basically.
Again, I didn’t do much at night either. Ended up unwittingly pretending to be a script editor for Hayden and coming up with lame gags, or “visual feasts”. I can has my own tv show nao? (That reminds me, I did the biggest geekgasm ever at the till on Friday when I saw we had the LOLcat book in. It was just published the day before and seeing it made me off my tits with happiness.)

Today was dull, but we had good people working, so it was nice. We met our target of clearing out the stock-room, but didn’t make much moolah ‘cos it was pretty quiet. I’m back in at 5-8pm tomorrow, then I’ll get stupidly excited about my London voyage on Tuesday-Saturday. On a plane this time. No insomnia! But I’ll have to deal with airports and I freakin’ hate airports. Never will you feel as guilty for no reason as you do in an airport… Anyway, me and Pete were spazzing about Sfry for about half an hour today, so I’m off to enjoy In America. Then I’ll read the book and get the unedited version.

This must be a burden to read these days. I’m ever-so-apologetic. Come back next week, I’ll have stories. I care about you deeply, I’ll see you soon.

That was a classic Moss line…

London, yeah? Oh man, I was so overly excited when I heard people ending sentences with “yeah?” and not taking the piss. But I’ll get to that.
Thursday’s a blur. All I remember is packing at the last possible minute. I left for town at about 5pm, got in, wandered around, bumped into Stuart in HMV who wished me luck on my voyage and then I caught my bus. I sat alone until we got to Glasgow where I was joined by a man with a box. Sadly, he was there all the way to London so I couldn’t sprawl out and sleep. We passed through Preston which I have concluded to be the roughest, most depressing looking place I’ve ever seen. The most modern looking building I saw was a bloody Post Office.
When 6.30am came around and London came into sight, I started to get a bit overwhelmed. It was like I’d never been before, but I just thought “Gah, I need to live here.” My heart felt like it was going to burst and I just got stupidly happy and excited. We got to Victoria at about 7am and I immediately walked to the South Bank and had a seat on a bench for a while. The sun was still coming up and the place looked beautious. It was 7.54 and I couldn’t really comprehend that I was in my favourite city watching it wake up, sitting on a bench and looking out at the boats. It was a friggen Friday! Usually on a Friday at this time, I’m still unconscious with a day of nothingness ahead of me. I stayed a bit longer, then did my big walk to Southwark, going into every Waterstone’s I passed. I was just killing time, so ended up going to Piccadilly, walking past the Pigalle and feeling nostalgic, then going into the big Waterstone’s. What a nerd.

At about 11am, I made my way to Marble Arch to meet Gracie. She turned up later and we did an excited. It was sort of happening (but wouldn’t happen fully until we were at Pinewood!) We made our way to Brixton after spending time in Primani and hearing some delightful stories ending in “yeah?” on the tube. It filled me with glee, what a square. We didn’t stick around long ‘cos I heard from Sarah to say to meet her at 4.20 at Paddington. So we decided we’d go to Carnaby Street, then grab some food. We didn’t really do the latter. I bought a fruit salad in WHSmith and we tracked down Sarah. After a train drama, we narrowly avoided a second, but safely got on one to Slough. When there, we got a cab to Pinewood that was surprisingly cheap. There was already a queue and we anxiously stared up at looming buildings of Bond and… the Weakest Link. “THIS IS WHERE THE FILL-UMS COME FROM!!!”
We slowly moved up the queue and got our red wristbands, numbers 165-167. This pleased Sarah as these are the lowest numbers she’s had. We sat in the big tent awaiting further instruction and having a nice wee chat. Soon we were called through and we walked into the studio and had to go behind the sets in order to get to the seats. I was just sort of in awe at seeing the IT office and everything and was just getting very excited. Sarah laughed at my shocked face at seeing Graham Linehan in the flesh. C’mon, actual genuine hero. I’m not going to give anything away about the plot. I’ve done that over at RB. All I’ll say is that Richard, Chris, Katherine and Matt were all introduced and Matt skulked off and was not to be seen until near the end of the shoot. I did get to witness his camp little “Oh, sorry, I fucked up!” dance with hand-flail.
The whole thing was just so bloody surreal. Seeing the set right in front of me, seeing LINEHAN right in front of me. The warm-up guy may have not been my cup of tea and I wasn’t very good at forcing myself to laugh at things a second time round, but all in all, it was worth the 12 hours of numb-arse, no sleep and sore feet.

We met up with the lovely Rhiannon off RB and two of her friends. (I resisted shouting “Hey, Scenester, hey hey Scenester!” at her) They were all delightful and we caught a train with them while laughing, discussing comedy and music and Honey Monster related hallucinations. Then we walked to the tube and me and Gracie parted from the others and had a few hugs. Sad times. But a lovely night. Sarah made me happy by telling me I should move to LDN. When I raised the point of finances, she said it doesn’t cost much and told me what she was paying. It feels so good to hear someone who is actually living in London tell you that it’s easier than everyone who isn’t there makes out. I’m not going to be unrealistic about it, but it made me feel better about the whole thing.

So me and Gracie caught the last tube to Brixtonia and went to the hostel where we were accosted by a man she believed (and I agreed with her on) to be a prick. Also an American said to his friend, when an advert with a Scottish guy doing the voiceover came on, that Scottish people should be subtitled. Me and Grace looked at each other, I did mockshock and we giggled. By about 2am, I was abandoning my “I’m not gonna bother going to sleep” plan and went to bed, setting an alarm for 6.20am. I woke up five mintues before it was due to go off and gathered up my things. Me and Gracie said a sad goodbye outside the bedroom.

Pissed off and sad at 6.45am.

I was very very sad to be leaving her (YOU READ THAT CORRECTLY, GRAECFAEC!!!) and I trudged to the tube station and went to Victoria. By the time I got to the coach station, I was 45 minutes early at 7.15am. 8 o’clock came and went. The bloody bus was delayed. It eventually turned up at 9am and I set off with a heavy heart. My iPod didn’t last long, neither did my phone, so I had the most boring 12 hour bus journey ever, safe only in the knowledge that London would be my home for five days in but two weeks time (it’s exactly one week now).
I didn’t get home until about 10.45pm and the parents’ friends were round, so I stayed up and talked to them until they left. I then had a shower and went to bed at about 2am. I had to be up at 8am for work. It was an alright day, but I felt horrible the whole time. All dizzy and ill.
I finally got a lie-in yesterday morning, which was lovely. I went to work at 5-8, got some food, then went to the Mains. I couldn’t sleep at all last night, due to my insides going to war with me. I just felt horrible. I left for work this morning at 8.30am and sat with Jamie. I had to cut our conversation short by feeling very sick and getting off the bus. I walked to the mother’s work, phoned my work and told them I’d be a bit late. I was told just to go home. So I did. And here we are. I feel like aids. I’m off to watch this: http://www.chortle.co.uk/video/2008/10/13/7581/full_flight_of_the_conchords_show

So, you take the plane and I’ll take the bus this time

[Well, a welfare gal and her drunk galoot
And nobody wearing a three piece suit
You meet folks this way you just don't see while flyin'
So you take the plane but I'll take the bus this time

Well, welfare gal and her drunkin cuss
And Pepsi cans rolling around the bus
Add newspapers and grit and you've got slime
So you take the plane but I'll take the bus this time

Where it's Salt Lake City everybody off
Salt Lake City everybody off
With Elko Welles and Reno down the line
So you take the plane but I'll take the bus this time

But Jonathan...

You're crazy for taking the bus!
Well, I'm crazy, so what's the fuss?
Two whole days on that stinking bus?!
Yes and I sleep fine
So you take the plane, I'll take the bus this time.

Look at it this way...
They don't want my name, and I don't want their baggage claim
My guitar is seated right where I am
So you take the plane but I'll take the bus this time

Well you got the old fat guy in his old tank top
The Wendover casino stop
And then of course Winnemucca and Welles and Anaheim
So you take the plane and I'll take the bus this time.

And it's Salt Lake City everybody off
Salt Lake City everybody off
With Elko Welles and Reno down the line
So you take the plane, I'll take the bus this time.

But Jonathan...

You're crazy for taking the bus!
Well, I'm crazy, so what's the fuss?
Two whole days on that stinking bus?!
Yeah and I sleep fine
So you take the plane but I'll take the bus this time.]So I venture off soon. On my 12 hour bus journey to the Metropolis. I am quite excited, but so paranoid I’ll forget stuff. I keep abandoning my list of things I need. I don’t think I’ll get much sleep these next few days. Food, money, Nighty Night. That’s all I need, right? I’m currently listening to Tamsin Greig HOOT with laughter on Black Books commentaries. It’s contagious. I feel good today.
Right, think my list is all ready. Speaking of lists, I’m rather excited by the prospect of being able to score something off my life list after this weekend. Ooh, actually, maybe more than one, if I’m lucky enough to shake Graham Linehan by the hand. What a sycophant. I’d hurt me if I was him.

 

I’ll blog on my return!

“What are you doing here? I thought I killed you yesterday!” grumbled Albi, quite racistly…

So. This past weekend has been interesting. On Friday, my dear friend Sarah who I met at the Snuff Box dvd launch offered me two tickets to see the IT Crowd being filmed this Friday. After much spazzing around about it, I came to a decision.

But on Saturday, it was strictly family time. Everyone had a little dance, had a little drink, in my case had a little breakdown and then went home. Actually, that last one didn’t happen ’til I got home, but it fit in well to the structure of the sentence. Dancing in Scotland is good though. Even if it does sometimes result in dancing inappropriately with your sister’s boyfriend. But hey, she had to do the same with one of my cousins. Odd times. I need a nice English boy I can take to a cèilidh. Much dancing would ensue, it’d be well weapon, yeah?

Yesterday was spent working. It was hella busy all day and when 5.30 came around, my legs hated me. Had a conversation with Iain to see if I could get Tuesday 21st October off. Apparently Pete had asked for the same day just five minutes before. We’re gonna work something out though, I’ve flights booked for that day…
I came home, confirmed IT Crowd tickets with Sarah, told Gracie, booked a megabus and got excited. This is happening. And it feels so strange.

Right, I’ve got a list of things to do. First being “Phone the bank” -ugh- I’ve tried three times and it keeps ringing out. I’ll tidy up and watch Flight of the Conchords instead. This is rather a dull entry, I don’t have very much to say. I am very much excited by the prospect of being in my spiritual home with my future flatmate on Friday and being in the presence of a man who has been my idol ever since I was little, but can’t think of much to write. So have a selection of pictures of Liberace…

Did we go too far, is that why your nose is bleeding?

Oh, darling diary, I’m ever-so cat aids-y. And contemplative about every freakin’ thing.

I have no idea when I last updated, but I know I’ve done nothing of note recently, other than work and lie on the couch watching Sex and the City and feeling sorry for myself.

There’s this good book I’m gonna have to buy big Jamie.

My favourite in that book is an old comic called “You Nazi Man!” and it has Hitler on the cover. I think it’s meant as an insult, but it’s more of a statement…

Yesterday was an odd one. I worked 8.45-2, which was strange, then met Laura for lunch, checked out a tattoo place and went home. I had a lovely letter from Selly, but it turns out some of the contents of the envelope were nicked. Scum!
We pub-quizzed again but didn’t do as well as last week. We edited our name slightly to ‘Future Sailors [of Kidmanville, ft. special guest Mongrelo Gossípo]‘. Next week we’ll just go back to Future Sailors. And I’ll wear a sailor’s hat. Maybe not. Went to the big Rev, then Exo (we were gonna go to the Old School House for half an hour before it shut, but we wanted to get to Exo for 12 ‘cos it was free entry before then. We got there and found out it’s free on Wednesdays anyway, so new Wednesday schedule is: Slain’s, Rev, Old School House, Exodus, end.) ANYWAY, Rennie broke his foot and inexplicably, my nose started bleeding. I went 16years without ever having had a nosebleed and now I’ve had four. Christy. Horrible.

Today was mainly bullshit (overuse of that word of late. Especially the phrase, “This is bullshit!” in a Super Hans voice. That’s one of the greatest Super Hans moments, by the way…) I woke up and felt like I had the plague, dragged myself and duvet and Sex and the City box set downstairs and to the couch, avoided dying for a few hours and ended up watching things like My Super Sweet 16, which, hideous as it is, is somewhat a guilty pleasure. I watched Louis Theroux, the Daily Show (and got excited when Kristen Schaal turned up and was VERY funny), Nevermind the Buzzcocks and Graham Norton (purely because Eddie Izzard was on). Later on, I progressed to the horrible realms of BBC3. I switched over to give the Wrong Door another chance. It has potential! I’ve not seen it all, but it’s not as bad as people have been making out. At least the gags aren’t too obvious. And the Berry cropping up occasionally is pleasing. But, while I had on this channel, I heard the words that stop people in their tracks to allow them to let out a shudder, “…from the makers of Two Pints…”
I actually, despite being alone and my throat not working properly managed to let out a “Noooo!”
It was an advert for some horrific looking show called Coming Of Age, which, judging by the trailer, is going to be a group of people my age being unfunny. Yet they get their own show. How unfair is that? Someone give me my own show please before I kill myself for making stupid decisions in life. Speaking of which, I bumped into Jon in Exodus last night (pre blood-out-of-face-orifice) and he was blitzed. He asked what I was studying, then told me I had more balls than anyone he knew for not going to uni. Exactly what you want to hear from a drunkard with remarkably cold hands. I’ve made a silly mistake, haven’t I? Actually, no, fuck that, I will be positive. By 2010, I will be living in London, working on trying to get to where I want to be, in my head, but still… London.
Please let me, oh fate, I’ll be ever-so grateful.

I’m getting delirious now. My throat feels like cocks and my cat aids has spread to my toes.
Goodnight, Seattle, we love you.