I worked with Hal Cruttenden this past weekend and during the conversation he asked about my blog. I explained what it was like and he, very rightly, looked like it wasn't really his bag especially when I said I'd mentioned Michael McIntyre a couple of times. Hal looked appalled as he very much likes Michael and couldn't see why I'd have anything negative to say about him. I felt bad. Not because of what I'd said about Michael but by Hal's face. He looked like I'd let him down. Hal's a nice man and nice men can easily manipulate you into feeling bad anytime they feel like it just by being nice. Then, this morning, I walked into Sainsburys (or as I like to call it "Insainsburys"! Brilliant! You can have that) and saw the cover of Michael's new DVD, Live and Laughing. All the negative thoughts I had about Michael simply melted away when I saw his beaming grin showbizzing it's way to my eyes and heart. Just look at it. How can anyone begrudge a man when he's THAT happy? His face just screams FUCKING HELL, THEY'VE MADE A DVD OF ME! BRILLIANT! So what if he insults me every time we meet, I can forgive him anything now. Hal was right to make me feel bad and I genuinely love Michael now for all the joy his face on his DVD cover is experiencing. All the very, very best to you, Michael. One day, I hope to be as happy as you look on your DVD cover and if I could buy the cover on it's own then I would.
I am going mad. I've lost too much stuff recently and, as a result, I'm a paranoid mess. I keep thinking I'm going to lose something else at all times. I've lost my iPod, wallet and phone in the space of a month and on saturday night at The Boat Show I lost my coat with all my money and my new iPod Touch in it. I went fucking mental. I mean actually, bona dide, cuckoo-clock mental. At one point I actually tried ringing my iPod to see if I could find it. Now, that's proper mental and no mistake. Poor Paul, who runs the gig, and my brother-in-law Bob had to watch me shout, stomp and do all the world's best swearing because I'd lost something else. Then we found it. It was about two feet away from where I left it. I immediately felt relieved and then utterly embarrassed. Paul and Bob looked at me with all the pity they could muster. It was a shame because the gig had been great and afterwards a lovely audience, who just wanted to say well done to me, experienced me going from being their on-stage friend to a dribbling ball of fury chanting "Where's my fucking coat? Where's my fucking coat?" My apologies to all who witnessed it and many thanks to Paul for his general kindness and for giving me a Wispa.
Getting Wispas from people at gigs is now something I totally expect EVERY TIME. Last night Nobby was kind enough to give me a lovely Wispa that I took home and put into the bag of Wispas that Judy gave me last saturday. How disturbing it was to find out that, in one week, I've gone from nine Wispas in the bag to just one. I'm a greedy bastard. I know someone who'll be going to the gym all week. My friend Carl. He works there.