Another stupid busy day today. I seem to have willingly booked these in for the next few days all the way until Thursday. I have decided that this means Thursday will be reserved for staying in bed as long as possible until someone makes me get out of bed. Chances are noone will make me get out of bed, unless, which is likely to happen, I forget I have decided this and book something in. Sometimes I think my brain is some sort of sweat shop manager, as it seems to forget things conveniently, let me book things up and then remind me that I haven’t stopped doing stuff for two weeks straight only after I’ve booked it in. This tends to mean I get tired just thinking about doing what I’m doing, which then creates a further bout of tiredness when I’m actually doing it. What I am saying, is I’m a bit tired. I fear this blog has already become a tad moany. Its not as moany as tomorrow’s will be though. Today I’m doing Comedy 4 Kids, which will be fun, and then it will all go wrong as I have to go to Dover. I’ve been to Dover once before, when at Uni, to (ahem, will type this bit quietly) pick up drugs. It was a horrible hive of squaddies, and dock workers. Like Season 2 of the Wire meets, er, well some program on squaddies being arseholes. We very nearly got beaten up just by being students. If thats the criteria for being attacked, I wonder what will happen to me when I call them all wankers?

Last night’s gig was all a bit great. It was in a hotel in Wokingham, a lovely venue, run by lovely people and with a full and lovely audience. Anymore lovelies and it would have been a horrendous ending to a Richard Curtis film. Thoroughly good fun and made better by these few things (cue cheating bullet point sentences):

– On Juliet commenting, before the gig, that the managers trainers were nice, he got very defensive and assumed she was taking the piss. It became quickly clear he wasn’t all that fond of them and was bought them for a birthday. They were purple and blue and personalised with his initials on the back. This meant that we took the bait and insulted him about them for at least ten minutes. I really enjoyed asking him if it was nice to know that a small boy spent hours sewing his initials into those shoes, almost as though he was personally responsible for slave labour. I later told everyone on stage about his shoes, and said it looked like the Dulux dog had vomited on them. He took this well.

– There was a woman in the front row who was a teaching assistant by day, a youth worker in the afternoon and a burlesque dancer called Dita Delicious by night. I can only assume that Dads whose kids go to that school, love the parents evenings.

– In response to a question I asked, a woman in a couple replied ‘Too Long’. This was a shock to me as it was not the response women normally give. I will let you figure out if the question was about how long they had been together, cock size, or the Return of The King.

– The same couple lived in Hook. I did not know it was possible to live in a Disney film.

– A man in the audience lived in London and genuinely didn’t know what he was doing in Wokingham, at the gig. He looked like he had just woken up. I hope he manages to work out who he is and what he is doing. Its a bit like a dull version of Memento.

I also appear to have lost my satnav. Using my iPhone and intuition I very successfully managed to drive me and Juliet the wrong way down a one-way street on the way home. My satnav has made me road stupid. I am obviously completely reliant on it. The annoying thing is, I use it to find stuff, so what can I use to find the satnav? I need a satnav finder to find my satnav to find everything else.

Sorry once again to Randolph for the brevity of today’s blogging. Need to go re-read the 4 jokes I have for kids before I go do the gig. Such a shame you can’t do material about road rage and the BNP to 7 year old’s or I’d have at least a whole other 5 minutes.