Shooting The Weeds


One of my duties while my parents are away, aside from making sure the cat doesn’t die – which I’ve only sort of managed so far. It has miaowed and scraped at the window like someone in a film where the chamber is filling with gas – is watering their garden. I gawped at the thought. I hate gardening. I like gardens. Sitting in them, drinking in them. Sitting and drinking in them. But to tend to them? Yawnsville. Flowers take ages to grow, lets just get some decking and be done with it. Actually I lie a tad, I like it when gardens look all nice and full of vegetation and floral niceties, but knowing I have to get on my hand and knees and trowel some soil to do it just makes me think of all the benefits of concrete. My parents have a nice garden though and as I’ve been living here scot-free (my parents are racist against Scottish people. They hate it when I go to Edinburgh) (That was a joke. I thought I should clarify this just incase) the least I can do is water the garden, even if I’d have more eating bits of card whilst reading the Financial Times.

But then….but then…..I saw the hose they have. Oh lord, what a hose. It has a bit on the end that’s shaped like a gun, and when you turn the nozzle you can shoot water out in a variety of different ways. There is the general spray, the refined powerful single shot stream, the mist, the waterfall. So many ways to water things. Suddenly I am no longer tending to plants, I am a soldier battling against the evil greenies and only I can tackle them using my incredible knowledge of what water methods can destroy each one. You might be shaking your head at my childishness right now, but you get behind the hose-k47 and you’ll see what happens. I scared our neighbour yesterday with cries of ‘BLAP’ and ‘TAKE THAT YOU LEAFY TWAT’ as I took things down water stylee.

All I’m saying is that perhaps more boring things should have the equivalent weapon like attachment. I would iron the shit out of my clothes if I could blast the creases using a steam bazooka. Get on the case boffins. War, what is it good for? The answer: Menial household tasks.


I haven’t slept enough. I could blame this on staying up till 3am with Tom Craine as we supped port – oh yeah, port. We are gentlemen of a distinguished kind. That and the offy was closed and we were out of beer – and watched South Park. However, I blame this more on my body clock, who despite knowing the hour at which I dozed, decided that at 8am this morning I needed to be awake. I didn’t. It was so wrong. There was nothing for me to do at 8. Except feed the cat before it wears down its paws into smooth rounded stumps from sliding itself down the garden door in need of food. But aside from that, nothing. Now the rest of today is confined to me walking around in a stupor till I can find coffee, and then walking round in a coffee induced stupor. Stupid stupor. Stupid body clock.

Today is my last day off before madness and I’m slightly worried that I’ll be on 5 hours sleep till September. I hope this isn’t the case as last year’s show was about zombies, not this years. I hope lots of kindly people will see my stumbling round Edinburgh in one of my many varieties of stupor and just prop me up on their shoulder for a snooze.


It was the last FT of the season last night and we had two more excellent previews from Pete Johansson and Richard Herring. Do go see them both. We’ve had a pretty awesome run with preview season and while I’m pleased I don’t have to run anymore for a couple of months, I will miss the enjoyment of putting on a good night, all the banter and post gig drinking. Hopefully when we return in Sept we’ll be back on as good form as ever.

I will actually be back there on Monday for mine and Tom’s last preview, but I’m pretending that’s different.



For anyone who pays attention to my tumblr feed on (what none of you? Oh) you’ll see that thanks to boredom, I’ve joined formspring. I’m not sure why. It looks shit and I assume I’ll get very bored of people asking me questions, only for someone to ask something slightly too personal or creepy and for me to shut the whole thing down. Till then though, ask what you like. My username, very unimaginatively is TiernanDouieb. I know the answers to most things. FACT.