Secret and Not So Secret Missions

Very late blogging today, which is mostly because since this morning I have been on a mission for Mark Thomas. Can’t really say much about it yet, but lets just say it involved phoneboxes, lude cards, Westminster and the recent ‘Peer for Hire’ scandal. I am now very cold and never want to touch blu-tack again. However when Mark reveals all I will post up on here with pics too. I love doing stuff like that. Ever since I made Mark sign my copy of his arms trade book a couple of years ago I have somehow wormed my way onto his list of people he randomly emails with vague instructions for some sort of fun and politically motivated plot. I am a rubbish political activist and often feel this is the closest I will get ever to starting a revolution and overthrowing the government so I very much enjoy it. 

What I don’t enjoy is driving all the way to Portsmouth in heavy rain, only to find out the gig has been cancelled and then drive all the way home again. Its a shame I don’t enjoy that, because thats what I had to do yesterday. Portsmouth is one of those places that on a map doesn’t look all that far away, but somehow they hired an alcoholic to design the roads so that it would take far longer than you think. Go on think about it. Longer than that. Really. 
Then after all that you get to Portsmouth and realise your journey was really not worth it. Especially last night when due to flooding, and general disinterest from the student population, Tony Lee’s show only had 4 in attendance. It was a shame really as the venue was brilliant and if it had sold out like all the other gigs on the tour it would have been a great show. The disinterest may have come from the lack of advertising around campus.  Instead of the usual massive posters saying ‘XXX Hypnotist’ they usually put up, they just had tiny A4 size posters with a snake on it saying ‘Hypnotic Comedy’. ‘Hypnotic Comedy’ sounds rubbish. Sometimes when I see a comedian die on stage I often get hypnotised into not remembering anything they said. Also sometimes excessively fat comedians can have hypnotic wobbling as they walk up and down. I can only assume that students think the same way I do and didn’t want to see fat, crap comics for two hours. Strangely had the poster explained they would be massively humiliated by Tony and made to lick cream off people’s arses and other terrible things, I’m sure the room would’ve been packed out. Students are strange like that. 
I was persuaded to stay for a drink with Tony, his lady who’s name I never remember and awkwardly have to avoid addressing for said reason, and two of Tony’s friends. Tony then regaled us with stories of Canadian’s who hit people and real snow. He also insisted I try Sahara nuts. I have never eaten Sahara nuts in a bar because they are kept in containers that look like they have never been washed and contain more insect body parts than nut bits. On trying one, I realised I was right, but those insect bits are more addictive than you think. 
I still get paid for the gig which is good but essentially it feels like I have driven a long way to pick up cash and have one beer. It feels like that, because that is exactly what I did. Still nice to know that if comedy ever packs in, I have a great career ahead of me as a drugs runner. Got to have a dream. Mine is to make crackheads family’s cry thanks to my awesome driving ability. 
Bucks Uni High Wycombe campus tonight. Not as far as Portsmouth and it has proper roads so fingers crossed a) it happens, b) I remember everyone’s name to avoid awkwardness and c) they have Sahara nuts as I now need a fix.