Not a lot of time for blogging this weekend. I might not even be able to blog at all tomorrow which scares me. I haven’t not done a blog since I started this one, and to miss one out would feel like I am breaking some sort of mantra. Its the equivalent of a monk breaking his 17 year vow of silence, only he hasn’t been silent, he’s been chatting, but in text form. And I’m not a monk. I’m pleased I’m not a monk, I don’t think the hairstyle would suit me. Being a shaolin monk would be cool. I’ve seen them do amazing things like balance on a spike using just their stomach. Not that you ever have a need for that in day to day life. In fact it makes me wonder why on Earth they do it in the first place. I don’t expect the day today happenings of life in Tibet require spike balancing. ‘Oh its three o’clock, better go balance on the spike for 10 mins. If I don’t, no one else will. Sigh.’ I wanted for ages to be a CD of monks chanting, and a CD of nuns chanting. This was just so that when someone asked me what music I had I would say ‘None.’ They would say ‘what none at all?’ And I could say ‘no, nun music.’ Then play the nun music CD. Then, because they would figured out my tactics for the next time, they would say ‘can I have nun music please?’ And I would say, ‘I haven’t got nun but I do have monk!’. Essentially its a laborious series of tasks just for a rather terrible pun that no one will appreciate. Even if the first bit worked, no one would ever want to hear the nun music again and so the monk music would never come out. Maybe this is why shaolin’s balance on a spike, because they know its more worthwhile than singing.
Once I’ve finished writing this, I’ve got to jump on a tube, then a train, and then a plane, and finally a cab. I am transport king for the day. All I need is a tram journey and a small boat ride and I have it covered. Beat that other people that may want to go on lots of transport in one day. I know there are lots of you out there. I’m heading to Glasgow to do some filming for CBBC, which will take over all of tomorrow from stupid early to stupid late and then I fly home. Today however, is just for getting there and having a meeting then falling asleep. The CBBC thing is why I’ve had to shave off my beard. Its now day three of beardlessness and I am missing it less but still a bit. No one noticed my lack of beard last night. Nick Doody assumed it just came and went like its own travelling entity anywhere and Brett (my agent) said it worked because I didn’t have a spotty chin. Well, I’ve shown him as today my chin is spotty. I think that is my chin’s way of telling me it misses the beard. It must be like losing your favourite hat. That happened to me in Edinburgh about 4 years ago, when I got very drunk and left my tres cool ‘Tribal’ cap somewhere. I still long for it. Chin, I feel your pain. To make you better I will play ‘Suspect Chin Music by Method Man, as I know its your favourite. Just wait till after tomorrow, then beard growth can resume. What I haven’t told it, is if this weekend goes well, there may be a lot more beard shaving to happen. Shhhhhh.
Last night was very nice. The Komedia Bath is a huuuuge venue and sadly, as it was the first Friday comedy show they’ve had, there were only 50 people in it. It felt at first like one of those awkward parties where someone hires out a massive hall, but only two people arrive and they stay by the dips till its safe to leg it. It was better than that though as the crowd were a fun bunch. There was a mad wig wearing hen-do who were very tame and nice despite hair attire. My favourite audience member was a man who decided his name was Rattinger Kaiser (obviously made up, but I respected his creativity). I can’t remember how it came about, but it was decided that he should spend the second interval getting as far away from the venue as possible before he had to come back, and bring a souvenir of his progress. As the final section started I queried where he had been and what he brought back. He simply strode up to the stage and gave me a tiny gold Eiffel Tower on a chain. The man was a genius, and he deservedly got a round of applause. I’m assuming the chain was his partner’s or friend’s, but in my head I will continue to pretend he actually went to France. Its much more like a Terry Gilliam film that way.
All the acts were great and it was nice to see Ian Moore and John Ryan. There was also a surprise visit from Tom Craine who had been told he was booked and actually wasn’t, causing him to travel all the way to Bath for no reason. It was a shame, but had we been in a sitcom he would have made the hilarious cameo appearance. He didn’t find it hilarious but he should still feel proud. I drove myself and Nick Doody there and back and we had a nice journey listening to Mitch Hedburg’s new CD (buy it, its awesome. Especially the hippopotmus gag) and it was ace to see Nick’s set too as I haven’t seen him gig in ages. Due to the quiet room and the large piano on stage, Nick gave a rare outing to his Clown Song, which is quite possibly, one of my favourite comedy songs ever. If you haven’t heard it, watch it right now:
There. Told you. So all in all, a pretty good night despite the tiny crowd. Many other things to tell but I have a plane to catch. Shall try and mini-blog tomorrow from my iPhone if its possible. If its not I will phone up Steve Jobs and call him a dicksplat.