Jan 16th-20th: The Utter “Shame”

Trying to find a new house to reside in, is such a tedious and frustrating process I will not pollute your eyes and brains by writing about it. All I will say on the matter is, never try and rent a house of a woman called Anna in the NW London area because she is a massive arsehole.


I did one of my regular day-time cinema visits, which I always look forward to and enjoy but this week was different due to the film I watched. I went to watch “Shame”, starring Michael Fassbender, with my friend Damian Clark (a very funny man you should watch do stand up). Thank God’s arsehole I didn’t go alone! If you’ve seen the movie,you will know that it is not only a excellent movie with brilliant acting and directing but also quite shocking. It depicts sex addiction in a whole new light. I have always thought of it as a some sort of Mickey Mouse made up nonsense but after watching this I can see what a serious affliction it can be. It makes the idea of having sex and watching pornography repulsive. I walked out of the cinema in such a daze that I left my bag there (this bag did not contain a selection of hideously graphic pictures before anyone makes that gag). I don’t want to ruin the film in anyway but he is so warped by this addiction he has to regularly tease one out at work. Unlike me he works in an office therefore the logistics of this are pretty tricky. If I was in the adjacent cubicle I’d be horrified. More than anything this film has reinforced my decision not to have a nine to five job. I’ll be honest it wasn’t one of my early reasons for it but it’s now pretty high up my list: “The constant fear of hearing a colleague cracking one out”.

This film dominated my thoughts for the whole of the week, therefore it is only right it dominates this blog.

p.s. If you’re at work, please keep it in your pants!

9-13th January: Trending Twat

Not drinking definitely has it’s advantages: Not feeling terrible for an entire day, not entertaining the company of people who are in fact tedious arseholes, not passing out in front of Babestation in an upright position. There is however one serious downside: you become very boring (especially when the only thing you tell people is that you are not drinking). This should mean that I’m living each day to the max and being ultra constructive but all it really means is I have even more of the day to try and kill without the excuse of feeling groggy.

This week I lived in the gym. Not because I want to become massive but because there is only so much staring at the wall/internet/phone you can do before wanting to place your head on a laptop keyboard and continually slam the screen down. I’ve essentially become a bored housewife. I go to the gym, do hardly any work, sit in the cafe & then let the most muscly instructor try and do me in the sauna. I know I’m in there for all the wrong reasons as I spend twenty minutes on the running machine trying to get the audio channel for the TV playing, “Catwoman” to work. If I’d got it to work, I’m pretty sure I would have run for the entire duration of that appalling motion picture. Some people get motivated by fast trance music or the desire to look aesthetically pleasing whilst I’m buoyed on by a dodgy story line and and woman in a PVC catsuit.

The one completely pointless thing that occurred from a combination of boredom and my love of films was my top twitter trend. Watching “Payback” bored on Wednesday night I tweeted, “movie thing to do before I die: pretend to bump into someone by accident so I can steal wallet from breast pocket”. This then spiraled into a hashtag (which I normally thing are total horse shit) #moviethingstodobeforeIdie set up by one of my followers, @chrisnumber9. I then got obsessed with trying to write silly and subtle observations from movies. I went to bed at 2am with my brain filled with scenes from movies and when I woke up it was the worldwide top twitter trend. Now although I started this after 5pm on a Wednesday it ended up taking over my whole Thursday, therefore I think it’s worth mentioning in this word soup. It turns out I’d created a monster and the more popular and mainstream it became the further away it drifted from my vision. It seems a lot of people had started to put really obvious movie cliches or in some cases just describe a scene from a specific movie. I guess that is the nature of the beast and ultimately who actually gives a donkey’s dick about starting a twitter trend (I would like this achievement to be written on my gravestone). It was a ll a bit of fun that sort of ruined my life for a day so now I will share with you some of my favourite tweets. Enjoy:

@carldonnelly: Punch a Locker

@carldonnelly: have a barman shout “phone call for you” across a busy bar

@dannymccomic: Emerge from a sewer via manhole cover only to be nearly run over by a bus

@dannymccomic: Get punched in the face, touch my lip, look at my hand, spit, then smile

@georgiedonnelly: meet someone in an empty football stadium...a row apart

@DrsevenG: buy a large paper bag of groceries with green leafy veg peaking out of the top

@truphtooph: Run over a traffic cone while learning to drive

@Bennyboot: Walk out of my house early morning, say hi to Bob; pick up newspaper, get wet by a sprinkler suddenly turned on

@joeWHSG: Drive a limousine with an electric shutter to reveal my identity/view a hottie in the back

@chinafoot: carry a watermelon

@johnfromsoho: Have a barbecue with work colleagues by my pool

@danielclancy: Arrange a date with someone for “tonight” but don’t clarify when or where to meet



There were loads more great ones but those were a select sample of goods ones. If you have 40000 hours to kill look at my timeline @chrismcomedy for some of the dumb ones I concocted. Next week I want to blow up the internet.

2-6th January: The Year of the Admin

Having had fourteen days of excess there was something nice about returning to normality. So much so, the first thing I did on January the 1st when I woke up was to renew my tax disc: ladies form a queue because in 2012 I’m going to be pretty dangerous.

Along with 99% of all the other adults in the Western World I’ve taken the month off drinking. A week in, very little has changed for me except that I feel ready for bed at about 10pm. Not drinking makes you act like a pensioner whereas I guess drinking makes you act like a horny child. The non-boozing meant I spent a lot of my week meeting pals in the day time, which is refreshing because you remember it all and at no point do you get made to drink a Jaeger-Bomb by someone you don’t really know or like.

Carl Donnelly and I spent three hours on one of the afternoons playing darts in a pub drinking orange juice and soda water (a drink I had to excuse to the barmen by pretending that we were both driving). As Carl got a dartboard for Christmas and I received a scarf there a no prizes for guessing who won. However, it’s the taking part that counts as well as the enjoyment in shouting phrases like "and the first leg..." or “Carl you require, 67”.

To continue the theme of me turning into a old man, tardiness has really started to nestle on my tits. I arranged a lunch with some people for 1pm. Now when you arrange a lunch, you have to be on time because unlike a dinner, the middle meal of the day is the one where your belly needs food in it immediately. Carl and I arrived bang on time and two of the other three were 30 minutes late, whilst one was still in bed till 2pm. That is the behaviour of stoned student not of a fully grown woman. The result of all this is we ate at 1pm and then watched two other people eat there lunch. It’s like we got to compete in the semi-finals of an event but didn’t make it through, so had to watch the finals. The moral of this story, is don’t be late or you’ll get slagged off by a coward like me on a blog rather than to your face. Right I’ve got to go as I’m 10 min late for Sunday lunch.

This may have been the most boring blog I've ever written but hopefully next week my detox will go off the rails and I'll be able to talk about getting munted and punching a fox. Toodles

19th Dec- 30th Dec

These 2 weeks can be very concisely summed up with:

Ate too much

Drunk too much

Watched too many action films

12-16th Dec: Nap Attack!

This week was the start of me feeling Christmassy. Not because I sat on a sex offender’s lap, who uses the guise of Santa to get his creepy kicks in December, or that every shop I go into has a bellend behind a till wearing a 1.99 red hat but because I’d started eating way too much and sleeping in the afternoon. By the end of the previous week I’d had three Christmas meals over the space of four days but cannot tell you anything about them because they were not between nine and five. You can probably guess that they involved Turkey, someone getting too drunk, someone getting too emotional and bargain basement gubbins otherwise known as “Secret Santa”. It’s hilarious to see someone receive a £10 gift that has a had a bit of thought put into it juxtaposed with someone receiving one with no thought behind it. The recipient has to put on a brave face and pretend they really like it, but 3 hours later once they’re absolutely Prince Naseem Hammered they have to tell everyone near them how crap it is. Luckily between friends this is all harmless and amusing; I’m delighted I don’t work in an office where people who don’t really like each other buy each other useless crap. I saw a hilarious Ebay listing last week where some bloke hadn’t opened any of his presents and titles it “6 unopened & unwrapped Secret Santa presents given to me by female co-workers”. Ungrateful genius.

This excess of food combined with journeys to Edinburgh and back meant that I napped everyday of the week. The best example of me wasting a day was when I arrived in this lovely boutique hotel in Edinburgh at 1pm, where you get a 4 poster Tudor style bed and an x-box, I went to sleep, woke up, did my gig then went back to bed. The owners thought I was mental as it must have seemed like I’d travelled all the way to Scotland to have an expensive kip. When I arrived the woman at reception asked, “will your other half be joining you later?”. Being single at this time of year can be depressing in itself but when a stranger acts like you’d be mental to stay in a nice hotel alone, it rubs seriously coarse rock salt into your open puss-filled wounds. It made my already shameful hotel masturbation session even more pathetic and pretty much forced me into a mid December crank (crying & wanking). I don’t work in a hotel but if I did I would suggest that you never assume someone has another half otherwise you will cause them to desecrate your lovely 4 poster beds; I may or may not have done this.

Let’s hope next week involves less sleeping and more human company.

5-9th Dec: Hand me the Nurofen

I’ve been ill several times in my life but this is one of the most frustrating occasions because I’m pretty sure I know exactly how I contracted my illness. At the end of the previous week I left my flat at the same time as my neighbour, Roberto (not Alessandro as I thought for several months). He spent the 5 minute walk towards the station with me explaining that he’d been ill for days, then as we parted ways he shook my hand. Now, I’ve never been overly OCD but knowing someone’s flu covered hand has touched mine, made me extremely paranoid. So paranoid in fact, I diverted my route to the station to go via the pharmacy to purchase some of that hand sanitizer gel. I did so petrified of letting my hand touch any other part of my body, so was wafting it around like it was covered in dick sick. After this panic buy, I still contracted flu, which makes me think either that hand gel is a gimmick for idiots like myself or Roberto’s flu virus was quicker working than a 5 year old ADD sufferer on speed. I got ill in the least cool way ever; the cool ways being from snogging someone or playing paintball in the winter in old a t-shirt and shorts.

I was only a bit sick. The worst type of sick. If you’re fully ill, where you can’t eat or move then you can lie on a sofa watching action movies and masturbating without any sense of guilt. When you’re only under the weather you flit between wanting to be pro-active and wanting to do zero things. It’s the human equivalent of a semi-erect penis (if you catch my drift): if you had to get the job done you could, but you wouldn’t enjoy it or think you’ve done your best. Apologies for this slightly crass blog but I’ve been ill so leave me alone and bring me some soup.

I also made my first ever chicken soup that week. It tasted mainly of chicken stock.

Nov 28th- 2nd Dec. Bye, Bye, sex offender!

The moustache finally had to go. I was briefly tempted to keep it on my face but when whipped cream from a seriously tasty hot chocolate got stuck in it, I knew it was time to remove the top lip bush. I think it almost reached the level where people started to think I was wise. I nearly made the mo leap when people go from changing direction when they see you in the street to asking for directions from you. Now, I’m back to having just an all over crap beard which suits me fine. We managed to raise over 2k as comedians, which is pretty damn good: hopefully enough to contribute to preventing a few cases of dick and ball cancer.

Despite this good deed, it was generally a sad week for sport and comedy. The passing away of Gary Speed, Socrates and Patrice O’Neal (Youtube him now) all happened in the space of a few days. Although I didn’t know any of them personally, they were all exceptional in their fields and they should be remembered for bringing joy to the people that watched them. I find it intriguing how in this day and age all tributes are essentially done online. It’s rare now that people will write a card and leave flowers. Instead people will tweet “RIP”, followed by a tweet about what they ate for breakfast. This used to annoy me but I guess this is the way the world is changing. In 20 years when someone else famous dies I suspect no one will even bother writing “RIP” but instead just think it in their minds and then this gets scrawled on a robot re-incarnation of the body. Due to the inherently selfish nature of humans, when something like this happens to others you think about it happening to you. I’ve decided that if and when I play Connect 4 with Diana in the sky, whether you tweet or not about it please do not go on my Facebook and click “like” button under, “Chris Martin is dead”.