The Return of Toilet.

I saw Toilet yesterday and he saw me. We passed each other near the Garrick Theatre and neither of us made the effort to say Hello. How long is this going to go on? I must see Toilet about 4 times during the year then practically every day during August in Edinburgh and yet we can't get along like we did when we first met. Toilet, if you're reading this, can't we be friends? I promise I'll be nice. We all promise that I'll be nice. WE want you and me to be friends. There is not one person reading this that doesn't want to see me and Toilet walking merrily hand-in-hand and showing our love to the world. There is only one person stopping that dream come true, Toilet, and that's you. And me. So, what do you say, Toil? Let's start over.

I'm not the only person who saw Toilet yesterday either. My friend saw him on a bus. Apparently even the back of Toilet's head has a stick up it's arse. Sorry, Toilet, that is honestly the last time. I'm going to be nice startiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing NOW.

By the way, have YOU seen Toilet recently? Write and let me know. Seriously, that was really the last time. I'm going to be really very nice as of right now.

Booze has been quite mental over the last two days mainly due to the arrival of Johnny Candon, the Irish man. We've mainly spent the time drinking, reading comics, falling asleep in front of the TV and going to comedy clubs. We went to Comedy Camp to watch Johnny drunkenly die on his arse in front of a gay-friendly audience. Sadly, he did really well and we were all furious. It was also very nice to see Jeremy Limb and Dan Mersh who came out for a drink and a laugh and Bennett Arron who came out for a drink and an argument. Not that I blame him, I've been starting some rows myself lately. I started one with an idiot called Luther on Robin Ince's blog, I started a slight row with Collings and Herrin over how to pronounce the word scabrous (that was basically an ego-driven way of telling you that I was mentioned in their podcast and, yes, a little bit of cum did come out) and last night I started two brilliant arguments that I really enjoyed. They both took place at The Phoenix after a night of glitzy showbiz bar hopping. Well, it started quite glitzy because Johnny and I went to The Groucho Club to meet Jess Robinson and her recently single friend, Oli. We pretty much liked Oli from the word go. He has great taste in telly and seemed generally a fun, funny man. When he told us he was a theatre producer we were very surprised because he wasn't a prick. Well done, Oli. And if you're a single lady then get in touch with him. He's a catch. Then we went to 99 Club at The Round Table and saw the fantastic Caroline Mabey and a man who told us that Jesus took away his £12,000 a day job. I wouldn't have minded but he stank of piss and he touched me. He wasn't Johnny, let me make that clear. After meeting Martin White we went straight to The Funny Side of Covent Garden just in time to completely miss Carey Marx's show then it was off to The Phoenix and two lovely arguments.

The first one was with Roisin Conaty. We're both fans of James Branch's excellent blog but I've stopped reading them since he wrote about going to see Quantum of Solace with his baby. James Branch constantly writes about his child, he's like a female Janey Godley, and normally that would be fine but pretty much nothing boils my blood quite as much as Parent & Baby screenings at the cinema. Want to see a film in the cinema? Fine, KEEP YOUR COCK IN YOUR PANTS. DON'T HAVE A FUCKING BABY AND TAKE A SCREENING AWAY FROM GOOD PEOPLE WHO AREN'T BRINGING SHITTY LITTLE FUCKERS WHO TAKE AIR AND FOOD FROM US INTO THE WORLD. That's my argument. Roisin saw things differently stating that surely it's fair to give them one screening so they can get out of the house with their baby. I reminded her of my original argument that if you want to see a film then you should KEEP YOUR COCK IN YOUR PANTS, etc. The second argument was with everyone else I was with. I love how booze made this an argument that needed to be settled. It got extremely heated with lots of shouting, mainly from me and Johnny. My point was simple; the TV programme Friends is terrible. Everyone disagreed and said that I can't have an opinion on a TV programme if I've only seen 10 episodes. But, like I said at the time, Friends should KEEP YOUR COCK IN YOUR PANTS. The rest of the night is a blank.