I don’t feel one hundred percent today. I don’t really feel thirty percent. In fact I feel so shit that thinking about percentages makes me feel a bit sick. Not only that but I appear to have broken my phone. It could have happened when I dropped it onto the hard piss stained urinal at Old Rope last night. It also could have been something else. Its highly likely it was the urinal incident though, followed by my stupid drunk head running my tap under hot water to get the wee off it. But it also could just be something else. That’s what I’ll tell the phone company anyway. As far as they are concerned my phone just stopped all by its stupid self. If they find small traces of water and piss on it, then I will tell them they did that and they are sick wrong individuals and I will sue them. I’m sure that’ll work.
While all of this pain and phone death are direct results of self-inflicted drinking, I would argue that the blame lies with the purple jumper I wore last night. That’s right I wore a purple jumper. I hate purple, and believe it is only for girls, wizards, rain, ronnie, films with Oprah in it, giant upside down cows, bruises and girls and wizards with bruises. Its not often wizards get bruises due to their magical ability. If you see a wizard with a bruise, its highly likely its someone dressed up as a wizard who has been hit by a real wizard because they are not impressed with their poor imitation. Wearing the purple jumper was the second clothing dare I have made this week after Sunday’s outing in clothes that were they music, HMV would have stuck in its slightly racist ‘urban’ category. I always feel as though to counter-balance that they need a ‘rural’ category filled with farmer’s jig type songs and country music. Purple was a slightly bigger dare than ‘urban’ look because of my hate for it, but its a Christmas pressie that I have never worn so felt I needed to see what would happen.
The first incident was a woman on the tube who looked at me funny. It was quite likely the jumper that instigated these looks, although it could also have been all the faces I was pulling at myself in my reflection on the carriage windows. Probably the jumper though. Then I went to meet Wendy Wason before she was doing Old Rope. Wendy ended up being late ‘cos of her rubbish bus. The rubbish bus was probably delayed because of my jumper. I then ended up getting served quite quickly at the bar. One plus point to the jumper. Think this may have been because the barman thought I was a wizard and feared me. Or he thought I was a girl and girls get served quicker. But after that one moment of goodness the jumper then forced me to stay at Old Rope and get really drunk instead of going home and being sensible. I wasn’t expecting that to happen and as a result of being ambushed by booze I got really drunk fairly quickly and talked nonsense at lots of people. Then on the way home the jumper made me stop at our local kebabery and get a Spinach Borek. I don’t even know what a Spinach Borek is but it sounds like a creature from Middle Earth. I think the kebab man must have looked at my purple jumper and thought once again that I was a wizard of sorts and could handle such a beast. It could also be because I asked for one. Either way, I shouldn’t have had it because its still in my gut and causing havoc. All of which is the purple jumper’s fault. I will not wear that jumper ever again as it gives me an excuse to not have any willpower.
As much as I’d like to spend today lying in bed and setting fire to my jumper, I have to do this exciting and fun gig this evening:
I am closing the show by re-enacting with Richard and the rest of the acts, five scenes from my favourite films. I have a lot of favourite films and so picking them has been tough, but I can safely now say that I will ruin the memories of five awesome films. I’m very much looking forward to it and will spend the rest of the afternoon trying to do a decent impression of Harrison Ford. Maybe, before the gig I will re-create the scene from the end of Return of the Jedi where I make a big bonfire and look forlornly as I set fire to my jumper and phone and start singing that ‘jub-jub’ song that the ewoks sing.