Precious Little.

I've got a podcast! Not just me, James Hingley and me have got a podcast! Yeah, I don't really know who James is either but we've definitely got a podcast going. I'm not saying it's perfect but I'm pretty happy with it. It starts well, loses itself pretty quickly, gets funny again, loses itself and ends up funny again. I think that's fair. It's called Precious Little (we think).

We recorded it in Hitchin, a place that I assumed was in North London. It's not. It's somewhere else. It's not on any map and all records of Hitchin have been wiped but, somehow, I got there. During the podcast we discussed what we should call the podcast, why we decided to do a podcast together (it involves the lovely Ben Moor), why Mark Thomas' anti-Coca-Cola book will never work on me (because I won't read it), the FACT that James still lives with his mum, Martin White's sex appeal and the fat cunt from the Odeon in Birmingham. I also wrote the theme tune despite having no musical talent whatsoever.

It's got some feedback already and the general consensus is that it's good but James is too quiet and, unbelievably, I can be quite loud and angry sometimes. We may or may not work on those criticisms but we must say that we are very grateful for them. Please give it a listen at either http://www.giantbanana.co.uk/podcast/podcast.htm or you can download it at iTunes. It wasn't quite working this morning there but you should be able to download and subscribe from there sometime today: http://itunes.apple.com/WebObjects/MZStore.woa/wa/viewPodcast?id=331519835

Obviously, as it's our first one we don't really know what we're doing but I'm pretty confident that we'll get the hang of it over the next few weeks. The main thing was to not sound like Collings and Herrin and our total lack of talent saw to that admirably. That said, when we recorded a five minute mid-week follow-up podcastette I accidentally said Nyum Nyum Nyum right at the end. What a prick.

So, that's the "good" news, now for the bad news. Michael Legge, your beloved friend, has sold out to The Man. Yesterday I recorded some crappy, crappy idents for Nokia that will be shown to some crappy, crappy communications executives in crappy, crappy Munich. My friend John asked if I wanted to do this job as he knew the director. It would mean that John and I would have to get up stupidly early in the morning to catch a train to Cardiff and spend the day in a hot studio that Doctor Who may or may not have been filmed in while reciting corporate lingo. How could I do this? I know fully well how the controversial idea of a comedian doing adverts is the current hot-potato but I did it anyway. Not for some namby-pamby, Mark Watson-esque pathetic "I'm doing it for so my family will be comfortable and so that I will be able to offer my fans free/cheap shows educating them on the horrors of climate change" reason. Christ, no. I did it so I could go out drinking with my friend John. And drinking we did.

I learned two very important things from my corporate sell-out day, yesterday. One: Drinking with John is always fun on the day and painful the next day. Two: I am crap at sucking Satan's cock. I'd love to sell-out but sadly I just don't have the talent for it. Seriously, even with the script in front of me I needed 20 takes to get one 30 second scene right. Pathetic.

Thanks to everyone who has downloaded and listened to the podcast. I really appreciate it.

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