I think by the time I've finished this blog it will be about 12:30...this is upsetting for 2 reasons -
Reason 1 - I need to be up in 6 hours to go to work.
Reason 2 - It means technically I have already failed in my Pre New Years Revelation to blog every day for a year.
Can I be forgiven? I mean...I'll still do one tomorrow and I'll try and have a hilarious mishap that can be written about so that it's extra funny? I might even try writing a knob joke. When referring to a penis, does the knob have a 'k'? Which reminds me, there is no funnier (k)nob joke in the history of the world than the scene in Bedknobs and Broomsticks where the little boy is asked to use his magic bedknob to take the whole family to the magical island of Nabubu. I challenge anyone with an ounce of fun in their blood to watch a small blonde cockney boy say "What's that got to do with my knob?" to Angela Lansbury, and not cry with laughter.
The reason I'm so late, anyway, thanks for asking, is that I was out on a date...ha. Lies. Lies, lies and damned lies. The lengths I will go to in order to please my mother. Not that she's reading. I don't think. Mum?
Anyway, the reason I'm so late, thanks for bearing with me, is that I was out viewing some comedy! I went off down the road to the gloriously wonderful night that is 'Old Rope' at the Phoenix. Run by the delectable Tiff Stevenson - who was great incidentally and I wish I'd discovered more than her Twitter feed a long time ago. That sounds debauched. I've somehow managed to make Twitter feed sound a little bit like Tiff Stevenson stuffs seeds in her lady garden and then spreads away and lets the birds do their thing. Tuppence a bag.
It was a great night, really nice to be a punter for once without any fear of getting up. I won't do a run down of what I thought of all the acts - there were only two I wasn't keen on and I really did seem to be in the minority so we'll put it down to taste and I won't do anything like as controversial as state an opinion. We are not a tabloid.
Got me quite excited about getting back on the stage - I've had an extended break from gigging which began just before Christmas and ends on the 24th January at Ed Comedy at The Hob. (Plug? I think it's fair...) I stopped doing it because I was tired and it wasn't feeling fun any more - and the break has worked perfectly, as now I've got material ideas popping out of my ears and some of them don't involve talking about poo in any way. I highly doubt I'll be political in any way, but still, 'not poo' is a step in the right direction.
One of the other things I discovered tonight is that I categorically will not schmooze. I would rather stand in front of 300 people with a license to boo and heckle me off the stage, than go and speak to someone I've met before but who I'm worried won't remember me. This may require further examination later on...but for now I'm hoping it shows a real strength of character. It doesn't. What it shows is that my inflated ego is already saying, 'If you go and talk to them now...when you're really big they might remember it and think you're a dick. Wait for them to come to you...' Which is a truly awful state of affairs. But at least I'm honest. Did I mention I had IBS?