Yesterday was Red Nose Day so let's start this blog with a real feel-good laugh. I have no idea how true this is but apparently last night, backstage at The Comedy Store, Michael McIntyre and Russell Howard had a fight. If that thought has in any way made you in the slightest bit happy then please call 03457 910910 and give money to Comic Relief. I think that should raise billions. I don't know what they were fighting over (who didn't sell out the O2 the bestest?) but what a wonderful thing they've both done for a worthy cause.
Comic Relief, Comic Relief, Comic Relief.....it's actually harder to slag it off than I thought. Not completely, of course. It's easy to forget the pain and suffering that real human beings have to live with every single day of their lives while Dick N' Dom are dressed up as tomatoes and shooting their own dignity in the face. The ego's on the show are pathetic. Every time I see Little Britain I assume they can't possibly stoop any lower in their black-hearted plan to destroy comedy but their contributions to Comic Relief show that they will go so far out of their way to do absolutely fuck all except turn up. Apparently them telling everyone that they know Robbie Williams in real life is enough to make us see what big hearted celebrities they really are. If they actually gave a fuck about saving lives they might have written a sketch but pointing and grinning at a celebrity chum will really mean the world to a child who's speedy death from TB is a relief from the Aids he was born with. There's nothing that compliments these horrible films of people having to cope with disease better than the knowledge that we've also seen something that was knocked up in The Groucho one afternoon.
Not everyone is like that, of course. Peter Serafinowicz kept his dignity by raising money via the internet, the little girl in Outnumbered was fantastic (never seen that before) and Ben Elton was thoroughly decent by having nothing at all to do with it. There really are people doing it for the reason they say they are. They actually want to help other people less fortunate. They're not doing it so people can see them on screen with the England Football Team or to push their pop career, they're doing it because the world we live in, the COUNTRY we live in, is fucked. The people that are in charge of all our lives don't help so it's up to everyone else. If that means sitting in a bath of baked beans or Big Barry from work dressing as a woman all day then so be it. You don't know Big Barry. Maybe this one day every two years is the only time that he can really be himself. So, you know, please give generously.
God, it's rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrreally hard to slag this off. It does good but leaves a bad taste in my mouth so it's obviously just me. There are people who need help but does that mean we have to further James Corden's career? That's not the point. I'm just being stupid.
It's hard to slag it off. It is. Last night a film was shown of a very young boy dying of TB. It had made him blind, deaf and he could no longer speak. How terrifying. You saw him shake in pain and then slip into a coma. Next, you saw his coffin being carried to his grave. If Little Britain's shrug of a sketch or James Corden's stomach has raised money to in any way stop that happening to someone else then I'm a fucking idiot to complain.
Plus, look what McIntyre and Howard have done. For one night only, they made us laugh. Please give your money now. Thank you.