I have, on several previous occasions on this here very blog, complained about the snow. This is usually because I have had to travel in it, or its not proper snow, just sludgy wet horror or because kids on my street are throwing snowballs with knives and bombs in them. Well today I don’t have to do anything except go and make snowmen and throw snowballs and wear a snow beard and rub snow in dogs eyes and kick snow at old people and ….Ok, not the last few. But I can go have snow fun. Which sounds like no fun, but it is fun so that makes it even more fun. Snow snow snow snow snow snow! Can you tell I’m excited? Part of this excitement stems from not still being stranded on the M3. The news today is saying its on of the worst motorways you could be on in this snow crazy, but you know what? I drove down it and back up it again and despite skidding all over Winchester, and then having to be damn careful I made it all the way home in an hour 45. Then, when I got to our road, I did a parallel park into a small space in 3 inches of settled snow. Just call me Snowdaddy McSnow the Snow King. Call me Jon Snow. Call me Barry Manisnow. Call me John McEnsnow. Call me Snow White. No, don’t call me Snow White.
Thing is, there were bits that were scary, but I really enjoyed the mad journey back. I’d packed some biscuits and water for sustenance and extra layers should I have been trapped in my car overnight. I then cranked the heat up to a level that made my car some sort of dog euthanasia clinic and I even haven’t shaved in order to make my face look more beardy and arctic explorer like. I’d told myself that I was a survivor and I’d keep on surviving and then I did that little dance Beyonce does, and managed to make the car skid more than normal. The sad truth is however that if I had been stranded for any reason I wouldn’t have survived. I like to pretend that I’m bloody good with all these sort of things and in my head I am McGuyver crossed with Indiana Jones, but without the horrible combination of a mullet with a trilby. But I’m not like either of those things at all. I’d have spent 10 minutes sitting in the cold before crying a lot and then considering starting my life anew in Winchester until the ice age had stopped, eventually being found on the side of the road by some police who slowly defrost me only to do it too quickly and I’d die. But just before my last breath I’d make out I nearly killed a bear or did something brave just to make sure they didn’t think I was a weakface.
Way back in 2007 when I did the one advert I’ve ever done, there was a stuntman on set playing our bodyguard. He was telling us about the time he got scared of dying doing an underwater scene, the time he fell out of a helicopter and then how he got run over in National Treasure 2. My response to this was ‘that is awesome. I’d love to do something like that.’ As those words left my mouth, my immediate thought was that I hoped no one that could make that happen had heard me say that. I wouldn’t want to do that. Ever. I’d prefer to do a scene where the biggest risk was getting a tea stain on my laptop. I’d be terrified of all of those things. I don’t like most rollercoasters. Or heights. Or spiders. Or being near anything that could at any point get set on fire. But still I insisted on saying that I have some sort of fondness for danger. One day this will backfire.
I am now going to eat porridge because I’m that kind of guy. Yeah the sort of guy that eats porridge. Maybe I am badass. I won’t put salt in it though, thats for mentals. Porridge then snow mania. Although I might slip and break my face so maybe I should just stay in doors. What am I saying? I can handle this snow crazy. I’m gonna kick some snowy arse. I’m gonna build a snowman and punch it! It is pretty cold though. And slippy. Hmmm.
Before I go, upon request here’s another new Dave comic strip. More to come and soon there will be a whole page on my website for them all.
And, yes I will plug it again, tickets still left for this on Friday. If its snowy we’ll just light a fire and tell stories. Well for 10 minutes anyway, then we’d have to evacuate as the smoke alarm would go off. When I asked if people would come if I did this show again lots of people on FB and Twitter said they would. Please don’t all be liars or your pants will set alight and I won’t be to blame. Even if you think you saw me with a lighter and a can of petrol near your underwear draw: