Andy Ward talks to himself.

It’s my 50th blog post. Yes, that’s right, it’s often seemed like they’d been dragged on for a hell of a lot longer, indeed, I’m fairly sure there are still some prisoners in Guantanamo Bay who are still cracking under the strain of being forced to read some of my blog posts.

“Today I had some cereal. It was unlike any other cereal. It was a lot lighter in colour and texture and made a few poppety pop crackley snap noises. I called it ‘Bang Whizz’. It was around this time that I remained unemployed and forgot to shav-”

“NO MORE! I’LL TELL YOU WHAT YOU WANT!”

I actually did forget to shave today, but that’s a story for another time. Another boring time which will surely lead to cannibalism and riots in an attempt to stop me reciting another two and a half hour poem about noodles.

I actually went out last night though. I went to Comic Boom at Komedia in Brighton, which is always a fantastic night, and saw some genuinely brilliant comedians. Seann Walsh really is ridiculously good, I think I was actually crying with laughter at some points, and found myself laughing when I even thought about his act today. See him if you get the chance, he’s excellent. Also saw some other up and coming acts, who were pretty good, and a professional comedian called Stephen Grant, who was also fantastic. I worry that I can never really be as good as these people, but I’m going to try my best. I do think I’m getting better, and I’m a lot more organised these days, it’s less a case of turning up with some half-memorised ideas and seeing what happens and more a case of actually being prepared and knowing what I’m doing. Now it’s just a case of actually thinking of some good material and going out and doing more gigs. That should be fun.

I wrote some more of my sitcom on the train yesterday, though there was a man who came and sat down next to me. I was afraid that he was going to steal all my brilliant (and I use that in the loosest possible sense of the word) ideas, and so cleverly utilised my cloaking device to prevent him from doing so. And when I say cloaking device I mean I shielded my notepad with my hand. It was like I’d put on Sauron’s Ring, it really was. I probably chuckled to myself as well at some point, so, to get the scenario straight, I was a berk sitting in the corner merrily chuckling to himself while scribing secrets. He probably thought I was going to tear a page out and pass him a note saying ‘I LOVE YOU. P.S. WOULD YOU LIKE SOME EVIAN?’ I did not.

I continue to work away on the new version of the sitcom. I think the alternative version makes a lot more sense. There are few fewer coincidences, and the story flows better. It genuinely could be very good, I’m actually really excited about finishing it. Of course, Homer Simpson thought his Spice Rack was going to be great. That’s what it’ll probably end up being. One literary spice rack.

I’m sure that when I started typing this there was a lot that I wanted to say, but true to the form of the previous 49 blog posts, it’s turned out in much the same style. Hundreds of words detailing that I was going to say something interesting, but then it slipped my mind and we were all left eating polystyrene instead of gourmet sausages. Don’t worry though, I’m going to keep ploughing on with this blog, so perhaps eventually we’ll all be able to feast on polystyrene coated in Paul Newman’s Caesar Salad dressing. Splendid. Bye.