While you’re waiting for the podcast (and it will be along eventually…) why not take a look at this preview available on youtube? Perhaps also subscribe to our channel, where we’ll hopefully be putting some good stuff eventually. That would all be super. Anyway, hopefully this should appear on the page. If not, then let’s all just forget I tried to be technical. Bye!
Now THAT is a phenomenal pun. However, it presents me with a kind of conundrum insofar as this blog post has probably already peaked right at the very beginning, meaning it’s only downhill from here. Anyway, I thought I should post the events of the last few days, as they’ve been fairly interesting (maybe only by my standards). If nothing else, this blog serves as something to refresh my memory of what I’ve actually done, since I’ve got a dreadful memory and often struggle to remember where I’ve been or what I’ve done. Anyway, where to begin?
I think the first day to begin with would be Monday. Monday was cool. Having won the radio competition with the ghost stories, which was due to result in them being broadcast on E4 Radio, E4 Radio unfortunately collapsed. However, Channel 4 had set aside the money for the production of my ideas, and so late in December I received a call informing me that they’d be giving me £1000 to go up to Glasgow and professionally produce them with a production company, Demus. This was a happy time, since translated into dole wages (this is how I calculate all money now), that’s roughly 20 weeks wages for what turned out to be a day’s work. Anyway, Monday was the day that I went up to Glasgow, flying up on the glamorous airline that is Easyjet, since I couldn’t be bothered to take the train as it took 7 hours. When I got to Glasgow I met Nick from Demus, checked into my hotel, and then we went to an Indian Restaurant to get some food. This was where it got quite interesting, as we ordered what was known only as ‘the banquet’, something that conjurs up images of Henry VIII dining on chicken wings. Basically the idea was that you tell them what kind of thing you like (chicken or lamb for instance) and then they’ll bring you a random selection of dishes that they think you might enjoy. Unfortunately, I thought we were just telling them general things we liked, meaning that I was eventually forced to eat lego for the entire evening, but still, it came in a nice sauce. Anyway, that concludes that day which, looking back on what I’ve written, seems very boring. Like I say, I have low standards of fun.
The next day we went into the studio to produce the ghost stories, me, armed with my amateur scripts, and him armed with a studio and professional production equipment. There was only one person who could really mess this up then. I read out my scripts, and then he produced them, adding sound effects, a theme tune, that kind of thing. It all sounded good, and the production was excellent, it’s got to be said. He knew what he was doing and we got something that sounded good. Despite this, I’m not sure I’ve overly pleased with the results. As I say, it’s not the production, which is great and couldn’t have gone better, but I think I managed to mess them up. Listening back to my delivery, it’s not right. In the feedback from the Student Radio Awards we got, I was told that I spoke too quickly in the ghost stories, and the judges found it hard to keep up, saying they thought it would be better if I spoke more slowly, so that’s what I did, I changed the delivery from what it sounded like when we originally broadcast them. Anyway, long story short, my delivery just sounds wrong now somehow, it’s all over the place. It’s kind of annoying, but at least I’ve learned an important lesson from all of this: ‘Never listen to anybody else if you’re completely infallible’. It’s that or ‘If it ain’t broke don’t listen to any stupid berks from the Student Radio Awards who let’s face it probably don’t know what they’re talking about anyway’. Wise words. I’ll upload them at some point anyway and see what everybody else thinks, as I’d be interested to hear. I may be being overly self-critical, I’m pretty much my biggest critic.
Anyway, I got back on Tuesday night, a day that is shortly followed by Wednesday. Not much happened on Wednesday, though I did sign up to do a stand-up comedy course in September, which in the past has been attended by some quite famous people. It’ll hopefully be of a lot of use anyway, since at the moment I’m just a berk who varies wildly in quality because I basically do a different set at every gig rather than doing the same one and making it perfect. It should be good fun though, and, like I say, probably very useful to me.
Thursday was another fun day. I went and wandered about in London like a tramp. Then I bought some imported Pop Tarts from Cyber Candy in Covent Garden. Brown Sugar Cinnamon flavour. They’re not bad. I plan to gradually work my way through the flavours. Next time it’s Smores or Chocolate Fudge flavour. Both should be top. I also bought a Japanese drink, which was a disaster, as I couldn’t work out how to open it, meaning that I was just left really thisty whilst I tried to solve the Da Vinci code. I had to buy a bottle of water in the end because I just gave up trying to solve my bottle puzzle. Then somehow, I managed to make a bottle of still water explode all over me on the train. It was not a good day for drinks. I later did solve the riddle bottle when I got home. Turns out I was carrying the special key (that I thought was rubbish) all along, which released the marble allowing you to have your drink. By this point though I’d got to annoyed at the drink that I’d been attacking it for the past hour, so when I did use my key the drink blew up in my face and I just just about all of it. What there was left to drink wasn’t even particularly special. £1.60 that cost me. For a riddle and a tropical face. Rubbish. I’ll probably get another though.
I’m going to go and put an Ocean Pie in the oven now. Bye.
Yeah, I had some chocolate Lucky Charms earlier as I sat and watched Deal or No Deal. As much as I’d love to say they were fantastic, they really weren’t all that good. It’s the most aesthetically pleasing cereal I’d say, but in terms of taste it wasn’t really that good. The milk went chocolatey though, which was just as little a thrill as it is when it happens with Coco Pops, and yet they still continue to market themselves as some godlike race of wizards whose ability to change the colour of milk is something that we should all bow down to and worship. I’m not worshipping a monkey in a baseball cap. At least, not again.
Anyway, the day has been just as fascinating as ever. In reality, it’s hard to make these blogs interesting when you think that I don’t really do anything. My day typically consists of waking up, watching Frasier, eating, going on the internet, and maybe browsing/applying for jobs (I’ve been rejected for another one today, an Assistant Producer job at a radio station in London), which is fairly disappointing, as that was one of the few jobs I’d applied for which I actually quite wanted. I’ve been applying for a lot of jobs which are good jobs, graduate schemes and the like, but they’re not really what I want to do. Obviously, very few people actually enjoy their jobs, they’re just something that pays money so that you can afford to do more exciting things with your free time. It’s looking less and less likely that I’ll be able to compete with the people going up against me for these jobs. For one thing, there’s a lot more competition for every job at the moment, but also, as has been documented in this blog, I’m not very good at interviews for jobs that I only half want.
At this point, it’s hard to really say that I’ve been successful in any respect. I’ve won a nice award from Channel 4, that’s something, but really I’ve not achieved much, and I’ve not been doing anything to try and change that. I’ve decided though that I’d like to do a few things that will hopefully help me actually achieve something before I die (not that there’s much achieving to be done after I’m dead. If you burn my corpse and use it adeptly I might be able to help you light some fireworks). With that in mind, I’m trying to write a few sitcoms. I’ve got what I may mistakenly believe to be quite good ideas, and I’m trying to write the first draft of one of the three ideas at the moment. It’s not quite as easy as I thought it would be, but I’m getting there gradually, so that’ll hopefully be finished within the next few months, then I’ll start on the other two. I’d quite like to go to Edinburgh this year as well, not to perform, but just to watch a few shows and get a feel for it. I went last year for a few days for the E4 Radio pitch that I did, and it seemed fantastic. Channel 4 even organised us free tickets to two shows, the night before we were due to do our pitches at around 9 or so the next day. Out of eight other participants there, most chose to stay in and work on their speeches and get some sleep ready for the big pitch. Two of us went out with the 4Talent crew to see the shows. Naturally, being the professional that I am, one was me, so I went out, saw two shows, had a few drinks, and stumbled back to my room at about 2 or so in the morning, scrawled a few words on a bit of paper and went to bed. To be fair, I mostly knew what I was going to talk about anyway, but still, it was a little risky. I don’t regret it though, as it was such fun, and it was a good opportunity to see the Edinburgh festival and some good shows (Richard Herring and an American man called John Pinette). I’d like to go again this year though, as I’d quite like to perform there myself, possibly in 2010. Apparently as a stand-up it’s wisest to wait years and years to go to Edinburgh until you’ve honed your material to perfection so that you’ve got a real good show to put on. Of course, I’m a stupid maverick who’ll probably cobble something together half-heartedly, and get booed off and a series of 1 star reviews along the lines of ‘what a berk’, but I’d really like to try it. I think I’d only regret it otherwise, and I don’t really fancy regretting anything else that I haven’t done, there’s such a long list of stuff already. Besides, as ridiculous as this might sound given that I’ve only done 11 gigs of 5 minutes that have ranged from good to shambolic so far, I do think that if I put the effort in then I’d be able to put something decent together. I’ll see about it anyway. It costs a lot so I’ll have to earn some money somehow if I do want to do it.
Anyway, this has gone on long enough now, so I might go and get back to writing and maybe get some food. I’d like to go to the BAFTAs sometime, so what I write had better be half decent. The last thing I wrote was genuinely strange, and, if I’m being honest, quite poor. It was about 20 pages of people just talking about Lucky Charms and broccoli. That seems relevant given the title of this thread. Anyway, hopefully one day I’ll be able to bring it up on Friday Night With Jonathan Ross, “Oh, Dial H For Hipflasks! What was I thinking!” [Cue audience laughter, whooping, seizures etc]. Don’t hold your breath though. Partly because that’s not going to happen within the next minute or so, and I don’t know about anybody else, but I can barely hold my breath for that long. I’ve become fairly unfit from sitting around all day. Perhaps I should rectify that. I’ll wrestle a shark or something, that should fix it. I assume they’ve got a machine to replicate wrestling a shark in gyms these days. I’ll see. Anyway, bye!
Another day, another adventure. I’m basically like that man you know. You know the one. He had a ship and met some harpies. Once, he escaped from a Cyclops he’d blinded by hiding under some sheep. Thingy. That man. Anyway, yeah. (I did a GCSE in Classics you know, so I should know, but that was back in the days when I was regarded as some kind of child genius. I think I was 11. Of course, it was all downhill from there, as over the years the full extent of my idiocy has become apparent.)
Now, where was I? Ah yes, the day of adventure. Well, it all started this morning, around the time my day started. I woke up and was confronted by what could only be described as my own curtains. Having made my way downstairs though, I was then confronted by a sight that shall simply be referred to as ‘my own front door’. Eventually, after having spotted various sights ranging from ‘the family toaster’ to ‘dog’, I found a window, and glanced out. It was like a scene from the Day After Tomorrow. More specifically, a scene in which there are a few cars on the drive and there’s a tiny bit of snow on top of them as people walk past with their dogs. One of the early scenes from the Day After Tomorrow, before they realise the full extent of the problem. The point where people are thinking ‘blimey, it’s a bit snowy, I wonder if dogs get cold in the snow?’. Search for it in the deleted scenes bit. It probably didn’t make the directors cut. If it’s not there, go and check the cutting room floor. It’ll be around there somewhere. Anyway, I digress, it was snowy.
Now, don’t think the action ended here readers! Oh no! Or should I say… oh snow? HOHOHOHOHOHO! WELL VERILY MINE IS A WIT THAT SHALL BE REGALED ACROSS ALL THE KINGDOM! I’ll give you a minute to stitch your sides back together, then join me in the next paragraph.
Having decided that I should go outside for a diplomatic meeting with the snow, I came to the conclusion that I should bring one of my foremost aides, the glorious Arthur Perrins. Or ‘dog’ as he’s sometimes known. Arthur Perrins loves the snow. He came back in from his stroll the other day coated in snow, like he was Jack Frost himself. “Why Arthur Perrins! You look like Jack Frost himself!” I remarked, rather wittily to him. “Oh Andy! You are a card!” He replied, as I poured us both a glass of sherry. We spent the rest of the evening regaling each other with anecdotes of times we’d seen the snow. It was a particularly boring evening to be fair. He loves the snow though, and so I thought I’d take him out to greet it with me.
Having gone no further than 100 yards from my own front door however, I was suddenly knocked off my feet by some kind of unknown force. Thinking nothing of it, I got to my feet, but again, I was knocked down by some kind of blur. “What the hell was that Arthur Perrins?” I said. “Ruff.” He said. It was a far cry from his earlier, more coherent utterings, however he only knows a few phrases.
Confused by the experience, I made my way to the shop so that I could purchase supplies to set up a highly elaborate trap, lest it should happen again.
Having left the shop, wearing a coat made of duct tape I’d expertly crafted myself, I prepared for the inevitable. Soon enough, it came again, a blur from the sky ready to strike me down. This time however, as it tried to strike me, it found itself unable to move, its fist glued to my coat. I dare say that I was stunned by what I was staring at. It was almost an exact replica of me.
“What the hell?” I said.
“Oh Andy! You are a card!” Said Arthur Perrins. This didn’t seem relevant, but like I said, he only has a limited number of phrases with which to express surprise.
“Yes, that’s right, I’m you.” Replied the figure. As he did though, his face seemed to flicker somehow. Almost as if it were made of some kind of tinfoil.
“But how can you be me? I thought I was me?” I replied, still slightly surprised.
“Well, you’re one version of you. Think of me as a much better version of yourself. A version released by the cold.” It said.
“So the snow brought you here? What are you?”
“I’m Blizzaro.” It said. This seemed overly contrived, and as if it had just said this so that I could loosely base an entire ill-thought out blog post around a single attrocious pun reference that maybe only a handful of people will get.
“And you’re better than me? How?” I asked.
“Well, for a start, I’ve got a job.” He said.
“Alright, you’ve got me there.” I admitted. “But why do you keep hitting me?”
“There’s really no explanation for that to be honest.”
“So we’ve come this far into a the story, say, around 880 words so far, and you’ve what, just burned out?”
“Have I burned out? Or HAVE YOU?”
It was then that I realised that I’d completely lost any powers I may once have had. This ranged from my ability to not inhale peanuts to my ability to write anything that even bordered on readable. It was also at this point that Keele University called me to ask what my employment status was and as soon as I answered unemployed, I could almost hear the regret in their voice at making the phone call, as I’d be bringing their post-graduation employment statistics down. Then I went and wept sherry into a glass and drank it. This cycle continued like I was one big sherry windmill. If you were to ask me what sherry tasted like, I would simply say that it tasted like the death of dreams.
Anyway, I managed to destroy Blizzaro , since as soon as I realised that he was the complete opposite of me it was just a question of pelting him with cereal bars, which he appeared to be weak against. That didn’t take long. Those Oat Baked ones are quite sturdy. One blow to the head with an oaty bar and he was down. Then me and Arthur Perrins went home, and I decided I was going to try and write something good (you’ll probably have guessed by now that it wasn’t this) over the next few weeks, and maybe try and get into an industry that I want to be in, rather than competing for jobs that I really have no hope of, or interest in, getting. Anyway, I should really go and do some writing on that, as I’ve written nearly 1200 words by this point in this blog post, whereas I’ve written all of 2 lines today of the first draft of this other thing. Bye!
