Fucking Leicester.

I don't know how long this blog will be because I'm writing it in the world's most annoying internet cafe. I've been here once before and the person in charge of the very small establishment had a cleft lip. Nothing annoying about that except that he was only three feet away from me the entire time and he spent the whole of my hour whistling. It was if he wanted to prove how shit it was to have a cleft lip. Now I'm here again and although Cleft Lipman (that's his real name) is not here he's been replaced by an obviously deaf man who can't hear that his fucking Duffy CD is skipping. He is a cunt.

The internet cafe is in the town of Leicester. I've been here lots of times and had lots of good gigs here but I've never had a good time here while not gigging. The days are long in Leicester. There is genuinely nothing to do. Want to eat? Sorry, all the restaurants have closed. Want to go to the cinema? Fine, you'll need two long bus journeys to get there. Do you want to blow your own brains out? We don't have guns shops like fancy London, you'll just have to hang yourself. Rope must be the most sought after High Street item in Leicester. Last night I did the first of my christmas gigs and it went fine. When you do a christmas gig there's always an almighty fear that you will get kicked to death by an entire table of Claire's Accessories' employees on their christmas night out but last night they were as quiet as dead mute monks on a sponsored silence in space. At least they were for the first half. I had the easiest time because I compered, therefore I could interact so much easier with the audience plus I'm a lot more comfortable compering anyway. They liked me, so that was nice. But it wasn't so simple for the acts. First on was Def Jam comedian Tony Hendrix who turned up with barely seconds to white up before going onstage. The audience paid attention and were very polite but, boy howdy, were they quiet. That said Tony managed a good couple of laughs and a few rounds of applause especially when he remembered to do his hilarious Chalky White impression. Then Ron Vaudry, surely anyone's idea of Festive Fun, went on to more of the same but he did make fun of how quiet the audience were and was extremely funny. So during the interval we all sat in the dressing room comfortably knowing that the people downstairs were quiet but nice. Unfortunately, we didn't know that during the interval they were all getting Screaming Lessons. Like I said, it was OK for me because I was only on for 10 minutes but they just couldn't stop screaming their heads off and fucking around during Jason Wood's set. He could barely hear himself mince up there. It was a close shave for me but I'm doing a set tonight and tomorrow. God help me.

I'd write more but this place is a tit. I really wanted to write about God and National Express Coaches today, the two big topics of our age. I will tomorrow. Somewhere else, of course.