Norwegian Sea Life Disco

There are times when I really do question my choice of living. This morning, standing in front of four people I’d never met, in just a very small pair of Superman pants, pretending I was standing on the nose of a whale, was one of those times. This was, incase you were wondering, for a casting. It wasn’t some sort of exotic erotic party or sea life Norwegian disco. Not that a sea life Norwegian disco necessarily involves such things, but I bet it does. I bet it also includes people throwing star fish at each other like shurikens, midgets on carts pulled by seahorses and manatees that can do bar tricks while everyone sings ‘Under The Sea’ but in Norwegian. Goddamn I want to go to one of those. Sorry. I’m not sure what happened there. Yeah, so it was a casting. I walked into a little room, took of nearly all my clothes whilst, in the process, throwing my dignity into a ball of flames and shouted and screamed whilst trying to imagine balancing on the nose of one of the largest known mammals in the world. I say largest known, because I am still holding out hope that Nessie exists. Fingers crossed. Especially as it’ll make doing Rock Ness in June a lot more fun.

Now one of the things with acting, so I’m told by them professional types, is to be able to relate whatever it is you’re doing to an experience you’ve actually had. Some method actors would, just for this casting, go out to try and balance on whales whilst in just their smalls in order to truly recreate the correct portrayal of such an event. But me, I use the old school method of just trying to remember something I’ve done that was similar and using it to work with. Here’s the thing: I’ve never done and never ever will do anything like that, so as a consequence, I wobbled a bit and shouted a lot. Essentially where I was probably least convincing was when they asked the shouting to be ‘excited’ and ‘exhilarated’. If, and I’m just saying if, as the possibilities are incredibly slim to none, I, one day, fell off a boat and was suddenly rushed the surface on the nose of a whale, I would not be excited. I would probably lose all control of my bowels through fear and then cry. None of these things are appropriate when you are in Superman pants. Much as I think whales are cool, they are bloody big and a big terrifying. What I’m saying is, it was a completely stupid casting. But if I get it, this post will be swiftly deleted and I will hoard the payment money like a stingy git.

It was the second odd casting in two days. Yesterday involved driving all the way to Elstree Studios to make all the facial expressions you would do whilst making a cake, while a puppeteer played my arms. So nothing out of the ordinary there. That was quite fun, but there is something hugely disconcerting about a man being pressed up against your lower back while his arms flail around with whipped cream infront of you. Maybe some people like that. Anyway, I got that one, but because of Jason Manford’s talented face I couldn’t do it. Long story, which I won’t go into as it’ll probably ruin some telly confidentiality thing, but I like making you all blame Jason for things without knowing what they are. Tee hee. (Jason’s ace really. But still feel free to Twitter him for no reason and shout).

This afternoon involves me dressing as someone from B&Q and then I’m off to a gig in my normal clothes. Hopefully tomorrow I will visit the man in the costume shop where I will dress as a knight, walk in to the changing rooms, end up in medieval times and live out my dream of being Mr Benn. Knowing my luck I would just get bubonic plague really quickly and die.

Other thing to shout at today:


Now, before I go on, I’d like to point out, I, in no way, deserve to be on there. Which is why I’m not. But, I think it would be hilarious if you all wrote and explained that I have hidden powers that were they to be unleashed would cause a 2012 like situation and therefore my blogs should be on there. Perhaps we’ll form some of weird blog cult and make all the Guardian dudes all scared and that. Plan? Fo sho mo fo.

Oh and demand Michael Legge‘s blog and Tara Flynn‘s blog are on there too. Justice will be served. And it won’t taste nice. So instead biscuits will be served.