So, you see, if it's always this awful then you've really got to put the
effort in to get the red in my cheeks. I think it's safe to say that you will
probably never see me looking embarrassed. But that's not to say I'm NEVER
embarrassed. The thing is, I'm just more likely to be embarrassed when I'm
alone. That's actually when it's most shameful. At least if I fall down a flight
of concrete steps and break my neck I know that I'll have entertained some
people who saw me fall but when you're on your own...well, your own basic
patheticness is highlighted. You're stupid, awkward and completely alone. So
very, very alone.
I felt completely alone just a couple of weeks ago. I was on the toilet and using my phone to do emails, texts and tweets. That's right, when I do my business I also like to do my admin too. About 10 minutes after toilet-time I decide to have a quick look at Twitter to see if anyone had RT'd my hilarious tweets about whatever celebrity death had happened that day but I couldn't find my phone. It's probably in the bathroom. No, hadn't left it there. I must have left it upstairs. No, not there either. That's weird. I checked my pockets again and the bathroom again and upstairs again. It was nowhere to be seen. That's OK. I'm very popular and someone from the entertainment business is bound to ring me soon and when it rings I'll know where it is. But just in case, I'll check my pockets again and the bathroom again and upstairs again. No, it's definitely not in any of those places. I checked the kitchen cupboards and the fridge because putting my phone in those places sounds like something I would do. Nope. Oh, well. I've got things to do and my phone will turn up sooner or later. Mickey Bigtime from Bigtime Television was probably getting his personal assistant to call me right at that minute and when he does my phone will hollar and I'll find it. Until then, I have some boxes to move from the upstairs hall and I have to get something from the attic.
It took me five minutes to move the boxes and other stuff from the upstairs hall. That's five minutes. Plus the ten minutes between toilet-time and wanting to check Twitter. Plus, I'd say, eight minutes trying to find my phone. That's twenty-three whole minutes. Plus an extra minute for me to get the ladder for the attic. It's twenty-four minutes since I left the toilet and my admin behind. Twenty-four minutes have passed and now I'm halfway up a ladder and that's when my phone rings. My phone rings and it vibrates.
It was in my underpants.
How the hell does anyone live for twenty-four minutes of their life without noticing there's a telephone in their pants? I know phones are small these days but they're not that small. It was right there, pressing itself against my testicles and I didn't notice. And how the hell did it get in there? I don't put phones in pants. That's just not me. But I must have. I must have put my phone in my pants and then pulled my pants up with a telephone in them and just got on with my day. Like an idiot would. An idiot who thought it was totally normally to keep a phone in your pants and a TV remote in your sock and your car-keys in your anus. I am that idiot. And there I was. Halfway up a ladder listening to my pants ring and feeling my testicles vibrating. I was embarrassed and alone and halfway up a ladder. There's no way that I could put my hand in my pants and confidently take the phonecall-of-a-lifetime from Mickey Bigtime. When opportunity rings I don't want to be halfway up a ladder with my hand in my pants.
So I didn't take the call. I actually just stood there, on the ladder, and got redder in the face with each ring. The more my testicles got vibrated the more incompetent I felt. Plus it felt nice. What if it was my mum ringing? I'd have felt awful.
www.twitter.com/michaellegge
If you like being embarrassed as much as I do or just want to point and laugh at my many embarrassing moments then why not go to Michael Legge's Private Hell on the 3rd June with guests Richard Herring, Catie Wilkins and Dab & Tench or on the 1st July with Nick Helm and Bridget Christie? Shows start at 3pm at The Phoenix, Cavendish Square, London (nearest tube Oxford Circus) and it costs an unbelievable £5.
Or you can get more Legge embarrassment at the Edinburgh Fringe. I'm very proud and happy to say that my show, Michael Legge: What a Shame, is on nearly every day of the fringe at the fantastic Stand Comedy Club. Here's info: http://www.edfringe.com/whats-on/comedy/michael-legge-what-a-shame
If you're too lazy to read my blog or are in fact blind then why not subscribe to Blogging For The Blind at www.soundcloud.com/michaellegge or look up Michael Legge on iTunes and subscribe there for free also. Thanks.This blog is also available on Kindle but I don't recommend you get that. It's bollocks.
I felt completely alone just a couple of weeks ago. I was on the toilet and using my phone to do emails, texts and tweets. That's right, when I do my business I also like to do my admin too. About 10 minutes after toilet-time I decide to have a quick look at Twitter to see if anyone had RT'd my hilarious tweets about whatever celebrity death had happened that day but I couldn't find my phone. It's probably in the bathroom. No, hadn't left it there. I must have left it upstairs. No, not there either. That's weird. I checked my pockets again and the bathroom again and upstairs again. It was nowhere to be seen. That's OK. I'm very popular and someone from the entertainment business is bound to ring me soon and when it rings I'll know where it is. But just in case, I'll check my pockets again and the bathroom again and upstairs again. No, it's definitely not in any of those places. I checked the kitchen cupboards and the fridge because putting my phone in those places sounds like something I would do. Nope. Oh, well. I've got things to do and my phone will turn up sooner or later. Mickey Bigtime from Bigtime Television was probably getting his personal assistant to call me right at that minute and when he does my phone will hollar and I'll find it. Until then, I have some boxes to move from the upstairs hall and I have to get something from the attic.
It took me five minutes to move the boxes and other stuff from the upstairs hall. That's five minutes. Plus the ten minutes between toilet-time and wanting to check Twitter. Plus, I'd say, eight minutes trying to find my phone. That's twenty-three whole minutes. Plus an extra minute for me to get the ladder for the attic. It's twenty-four minutes since I left the toilet and my admin behind. Twenty-four minutes have passed and now I'm halfway up a ladder and that's when my phone rings. My phone rings and it vibrates.
It was in my underpants.
How the hell does anyone live for twenty-four minutes of their life without noticing there's a telephone in their pants? I know phones are small these days but they're not that small. It was right there, pressing itself against my testicles and I didn't notice. And how the hell did it get in there? I don't put phones in pants. That's just not me. But I must have. I must have put my phone in my pants and then pulled my pants up with a telephone in them and just got on with my day. Like an idiot would. An idiot who thought it was totally normally to keep a phone in your pants and a TV remote in your sock and your car-keys in your anus. I am that idiot. And there I was. Halfway up a ladder listening to my pants ring and feeling my testicles vibrating. I was embarrassed and alone and halfway up a ladder. There's no way that I could put my hand in my pants and confidently take the phonecall-of-a-lifetime from Mickey Bigtime. When opportunity rings I don't want to be halfway up a ladder with my hand in my pants.
So I didn't take the call. I actually just stood there, on the ladder, and got redder in the face with each ring. The more my testicles got vibrated the more incompetent I felt. Plus it felt nice. What if it was my mum ringing? I'd have felt awful.
www.twitter.com/michaellegge
If you like being embarrassed as much as I do or just want to point and laugh at my many embarrassing moments then why not go to Michael Legge's Private Hell on the 3rd June with guests Richard Herring, Catie Wilkins and Dab & Tench or on the 1st July with Nick Helm and Bridget Christie? Shows start at 3pm at The Phoenix, Cavendish Square, London (nearest tube Oxford Circus) and it costs an unbelievable £5.
Or you can get more Legge embarrassment at the Edinburgh Fringe. I'm very proud and happy to say that my show, Michael Legge: What a Shame, is on nearly every day of the fringe at the fantastic Stand Comedy Club. Here's info: http://www.edfringe.com/whats-on/comedy/michael-legge-what-a-shame
If you're too lazy to read my blog or are in fact blind then why not subscribe to Blogging For The Blind at www.soundcloud.com/michaellegge or look up Michael Legge on iTunes and subscribe there for free also. Thanks.This blog is also available on Kindle but I don't recommend you get that. It's bollocks.
Brilliant. Made me laugh out loud. LOL (Lots of Love)
ReplyDeleteThanks, mmmmike!
ReplyDeleteThank god for that, not just me then.
ReplyDelete