Easyjetlagged

I’m tired. Really really tired. Today has been a lengthy marathon of filming from 8.30am this morning until about 6 o clock this evening. It was fun but incredibly exhausting and my energy has not been aided by my decision to go out drinking with the CBBC lot last night. A possibly foolish choice, but as they were all going to be working on the show, I thought we will all be in a mess together. What I forgot is that they would be behind the camera and not on it, meaning the large bags under their eyes and hungover grimace would not be seen quite so easily. Now, after all that, I am very ready to go home. 5 minutes ago, I found out my flight has been delayed by over an hour, meaning I will miss the last tube when I get home and generally add several hours onto my overall journey time. Well let me dance the prancing jig of fucking joy around Glasgow airport at that information. It makes the ‘Easy’ part of the flight provider’s name seem like a mockery. A sarcastic horrible mockery of my existance and inability to get home with any kind of convenience. Having an hour+ delay is not fucking ‘Easy’. Although it could be said that the ‘Easy’ is referring to the laid back, carefree, not giving a shitness of the whole facade. I also suppose that while it is no fun, sitting around and being bored is not exactly difficult.

I have loads to tell of the last day but the two shows I’ve been filming are yet to be comissioned and so far are all confidential. So no information for you. However, in classic lazy ‘Things To Say and Douieb’ style, here is a little list of things what did happen. I mean, its not like I don’t have enough time to relay them now that my plane won’t be ready FOR ANOTHER SHITTING COCKING HOUR!

Let the list begin:

– Ordering a Peroni in a Glasgow bar is a secret code for all the staff and other customers to realise you are some kind of prick. Cue odd stares.

– Getting a cab while still wearing TV make-up is a sure way to ensure a Glaswegian cabbie does not speak to you. Not even to tell a racist joke.

– I almost asked a 9 year old if she’d had a shag. Not intentionally, and had I not stopped myself, it would have been a poor euphemism about maths. She didn’t like maths, I started to say something along the lines of ‘have you multiplied?’ Bad bad Tiernan. Her dad laughed, which makes it ok, and him suspicious.

– It very hard to make kids friendly jokes about a skeleton and resist the urge to make a gag about bones, boners or skullfucking. The last one is a lie. You can say skullfucking on children’s TV.

– A child asking you for an autograph is not that cool. Especially if they don’t know who you are and according to their sister, ‘asks everyone for one’.

– Sam and Mark are really nice blokes. As is Iain Stirling. And all the people at CBBC Scotland. In fact, its almost sinister how lovely everyone was.

– Managed to catch the Calmanator and say hello briefly which was ace. Also met her lovely girlfriend which was also ace.

– The Fire Alarm went off in the hotel, and everyone was evacuated. No one arrived in the car park wearing just pants/a dressing gown/ their birthday suit. I feel cheated.

– The Crown Plaza hotel is a really really nice and very modern hotel. Oddly though, their rooms are furnished with TV’s from the ’80s. Perhaps they didn’t want that + on the end of the five stars.

– American Gladiators is just as fun as I thought it would be.

– My chin has started to rebel against its clean shaveness. Tomorrow, regrowth starts anew.

– There is a man at BBC Scotland whose entire job is just to poke lights with a very big stick. He probably does other things, but forever more I will pretend he is ‘pokey light stick man’.

There is more, but I am very sleepy and my brain is dead. Tomorrow is a nice chilled day thank god. Apart from that very publicised high pressure Twitter gig that is. Of course if my flight is delayed further I may be tweeting from Gate 10, with 10 minutes of four letter swear words written 14 times with every 140 character tweet I do.

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