July 25-29th: It’s a tough life

This week was spent doing a lot of TV warm up. I will not bore you with that, just know that I got to meet a wide range of people including Amir Kahn, Imogen Thomas, some geezer who used to be in Grange Hill and loads of comedians who I already know.

The best thing about the whole week was that me and Paul McCaffrey both had a gig down in Eastbourne and decided to play a round of golf on the way down. It was only £6 pp, which was ridiculously cheap. I was worried there would be some people cottaging on the greens but it was perfectly acceptable especially for two people are what I would delicately describe as “toilet”.

It turns out though once you’ve had loads of fun playing golf with a mate, going to tell jokes to people just isn’t as fun. Lesson learned. Try not to play a round of golf before going to work: that is the most middle class & middle aged sentence you’re likely to see in blog form.

July 18-22nd: Hit the road, Chris

I go through phases of working in and around London so often forget the annoyance of ravelling to far flung corners of the country. I unfortunately had to go to such romantic hotspots as Northampton, Cheltenham and Northallerton. The only one that I visited between 9 and 5 was Cheltenham.

Cheltenham is a place I’ve been to a handful of times and really like. It’s got a posh veneer, which means the buildings and people are nice to look at but has a suitably scummy centre bubbling under the surface. This means not only are the gigs generally quite fun but it’s a pleasant place to parade around in the day time, with a large catchment of mentals to stare at. I stayed with my friends Hillsy who was part of the trip I did a while ago where I played cricket on Mount Everest. It was exciting because I got to catch up with someone I rarely see. He also has an awesome girlfriend, who made me feel very welcome. I felt so comfortable in fact, that I showed her about the Mitchell and Webb sketch about “wanking from home when you’re working from home”: she found it funny till it suddenly dawned on her that whilst they were at work on the Thursday there was a strong possibility I was touching myself on their furniture.

I slightly abused their good nature because on the day I left I had at least 2 hours to do the washing up as a way of saying thank you. Instead I spent the time writing the word “thanks” on their sitting room floor. There is something either genius or mental about how to show my appreciation for their hospitality I created more of a mess than cleaning up any previous mess. I have attached the photo.

It was an enjoyable week and illustrates that you should never leave me alone in your house or I will make some sort of mess….

July 11-15th: What time is your appointment with the Chinese Doctor?...1pm

This was a mixed week at best. It involved a friend’s birthday, a friend’s dad’s funeral and watching transformers 3: the latter of those events being the most tragic. I will not dwell on the sadness. All I will say is that you must watch that movie drunk and classical music at a funeral will always make you cry. Therefore, when my time comes I want to be carried down the aisle to “Wild Wild West” whilst everyone wears a Hawaiian shirt.

I visited a Chinese doctor for the first time and am in limbo as to whether it’s a complete con or a massive con. I decided to go due to perennially sunburnt nose and feeling a bit crap and there is a Chinese doctor’s near to my flat. An old Chinese woman got me to stick my tongue out and basically made me think I had aids. She was convinced that I must have been for 5 dumps a day and that my insides were melting. I ended up believing that I was indeed full of toxic waste because she was an old and Chinese. If she was old and white, I would have dismissed her theories as mental.

The result of this visit was that she said she’d give me a de-tox, which involved taking various tablets. Including some, where I take 15 in the morning and evening. The Chinese medical school seem to really emphasise the quantity not quality philosophy. I’m no pharmaceutical expert but surely someone put their hand up at a meeting and said, “why don’t we make the tablets bigger?” I can only presume this was met with cries of “stick your tongue out!” and “how many times have you done a big toilet today?”: “don’t listen to him he’s been toxified”

A week and a half I don’t feel noticeable different apart from slightly poorer and ironically have been visiting the toilet more than ever. Sayonara! (is that Chinese?)

Edinburgh is coming up

Alright? I haven't done one of these for ages. Lots of me not being bothered has got in the way/trying to write an hour of funnies for Edinburgh Fringe Festival. I will not bore you with details; you can look on my website for them and get bored in your own time.

I will try to do one of these a week in the run up to August and then do them throughout the festival. I now need to sum up what I've been up to in the last 2 months. A lot of cool stuff has happened but the only thing that I can actually remember (because it happened 3 days ago) is that I went on a jet ski. This was not in London. It was whilst I was telling jokes in Cyprus. I've never been on one but decided that there is no way life can be boring if you go on a jet ski for 20 min every day. If your whole family get killed, my advice: rent a jet ski. That's it really for now. I got mine up to 84km/h I'm pretty sure that makes me James Bond. Can any of you pussies beat that? I doubt it.

So I hope you all heed this knowledge and rent a jet ski. I hope that this does not have to be done due to a horrific family accident. Probably don't rent one if your family are killed on one.

Toodles

May 2nd-6th. Being Tired… A Lot

No matter how long you leave the country for it always takes you about a week to recover. I reckon you could fly to Paris for a night and you’d still feel like lethargic sack of bones for seven days afterwards. Post-Portugal I could barely walk around for 15 minutes without needing a little sit down. I also had to have a self-imposed alcohol break due to the fact it hurt my belly every time I swallowed. I’m no medical expert but this can’t be a good thing, I’d even say it’s probably a bad thing. I’m still yet to see the GP but knowing what GP’s are like they’ll say “have a Strepsil, it will go away in a few days time’.

This fatigue affected me in an amusing way. I had to go to a casting on the Wednesday morning, in which I could barely keep my eyes open. I was supposed to sound really enthusiastic about some stupid product but after 1 or 2 goes the casting lady had to say, “can you try doing that bit slightly less…ummm…umm” I jumped in “sarcastic?”, “yes please”. I did not do it any less sarcastic and I did not get the job.

I also got to do a TV warm up for an online football show called “Score Board”: check it on Facebook, it’s hosted by the very funny Dougie Anderson and better than looking at photos of your neighbours Bah Mitzvah. The best thing about it was that I got to meet Scott Minto and Jason Cundy, two names that always feature when me and my friend play the game of “texting each other 90s Premiership footballers”: if you need more explanation about the game, you’re and idiot. Being the silly idiot that I am, I asked them both who was the longest in the shower when they played football. They were miffed by this and said they’d never been asked this question. I was sceptical and after a bit of cajoling found out that Scott Minto’s nomination was Ruud Gullit , whilst Jason’s was himself. Make of that what you will. I’ll try to find out who had the baggiest sack next week.

April 25-29th: Royal Wedding hermits

The sun was out, which meant nothing got done all week. This was not for want of trying. Apparently the sun out and a royal wedding to watch meant no one wanted to leave their house all week and attend comedy events. I had every show cancelled due to low numbers. It seems the whole country needs 3 days to mentally prepare to watch the television. I was out of the country in Portugal for the wedding , however, it seems most of the nation weren’t preparing to watch a romantic unification of two loved-up individuals but instead they were gawping at Pippa Middleton’s rump. It never ceases to amaze me how almost anything in modern society can be brought down to a base pervy level. This brings me onto the Olympic ticket application.

I remembered to apply for mine on the last day and this event has only added to my pervy Britain theory. The Olympics is a once in a life time opportunity to watch athletes at the peak of their powers and what has every bloke I asked applied to watch: women’s beach volleyball. By every bloke, I include myself. I’m an idiot as is everyone else. With the amount of free pornography online why are we all splashing out hundreds of pounds to see women wearing items of clothing? The only thing worse than being a pervert is being a broke pervert. When July 2012 comes around there will be a stadium of idiots, watching clothed women keeping a ball in the air in East London, sodden because it will rain and no one will have any money left to buy an umbrella.

I’m going to go spend the rest of my overdraft on the final of the Wimbledon Women’s final.

April 18-22: Colin Murray is usurped

I ended my last entry by saying I wanted to see another celebrity taking part in a sporting activity. This week, my dream almost came true: I saw Charlotte Jackson at the driving range. If you’re not entirely sure who I mean then I’ll try and help you join the dots. She’s that blonde presenter from Sky Sports news…that doesn’t really narrow it down…the blonde fit one…ok just Google her (she’ll probably be in your internet history). The only way this could have been topped is if she was shooting a pheasant.

The sun was out for the whole week, which means that no one in Britain gets anything done. Instead, women drape their bikini-clad bodies across patches of grass and groups of people decide it’s a good idea to drink alcohol in the ROAD so they can catch an extra 3 minutes of sun on skin. Everyone in London is happier/tipsy? This mini wave of heat gives some insight into what it’s like to live in a genuinely hot country. The insight being, that no one actually gets any work done. It’s also almost impossible to be funny. The weather being toilet makes everyone miserable which in turn makes for more things to joke about. Which explains why I’ve never met any Hawaiian comedians. Instead everyone in that country drinks pina coladas and makes shirts for unfunny tubby uncles to wear. I didn’t expect this blog to end with a bit of casual racism to Hawaiians but that’s what happened….deal with it.

I’m off to sun burn my nose.