Sunday, 21 August 2011

Day Seventeen: Get off the corners

Day one with Jon in tow. We hang out for a bit in the flat this morning, taking advantage of the sunshine by smoking fags in the garden. Shit, shower, shave and out of the door for lunch. Jon forgot to bring a toothbrush and underwear, I said that he could use my toothbrush and had to draw the line there.

We went down to the Mosque Kitchen and had a buffet curry. Jon didn't like it but he prefers food that burn his taste buds in order to block any further tasting experience. We went to a meeting and spent an hour and a half being moaned about by the Scots. Many of them were moaning about the number of tourists, I think that we (the English) should take our tourists back along with the free education and very ample transport system. (They started it).

I then had to run to cover a spot at a mate's gig via Topman. When I walked in the shop, it took me a few seconds to work out whether I was in the mens' or womens' section - these days, it's not unusual to see a man with a quiff wearing a woolly jumper with a cat on it so appreciate my confusion within the Topshop/Topman vendors.

The gig was good. All of Leila's laughy and slightly drunk friends were sat at the front and laughed loudly. The was a spotlight quite close to my face and I felt like I may have received burns if I had stayed any longer than a few minute. The gig was being filmed and with lighting that bright, there's absolutely no way that my face will show up in that video.

Onwards to Slappers (I'd conveniently got out of flyering again) with a medium-sized audience, quite quiet. ANother of the Slappers team have arrived - Claire Parker from Brighton - fresh blood, not tired AIDSy blood like mine and Darren's. I started slow and didn't get many laughs. Oddly, I got a really good response from my Catholics vs Gem routine - the best I've had in or out of London for a while. That was going to be a routine I was going to scrap saving only the "YoMaMa" line. I think it still has to go.

Elaine, Justin, Jon and I had a slow walk to a terrace restaurant. Jon was getting ratty because he was hungry and I thought that at some point he may have resorted to a deep-fried Mars bar just to fill the hole that the uneaten curry had left. All four of us had steak. Mine turned up well done after asking for it to be medium-rare, I sent it back and another came back pretty much raw steak, I ate it to save the embarrassment of complaining again and comforted myself by deciding that I will never eat steak at a non-steak restaurant ever again. Time and time again, I find myself disappointed with steak. That overdone/underdone fatty disappointed ship has sailed.

It started raining as we were eating (natch) and, as I've left my umbrella somewhere, we popped home for the rape-proof. Out again and onto Gagstro. I was expecting a bear-pit tonight being Saturday an' all but actually, the gig itself was quiet. Once again, we couldn't hear a fucking thing even with the new speaker at the back. Being overshadowed by Venga Boys is soul-destroying. I tried to banter but I couldn't hear the responses of the audience so it was futile. I tried to get an Israeli couple to tell me about their engagement but they were being very guarded. The lady ended up telling me to leave them alone. The first thing that came into my head (which I would never have said) was "You leave Palestine alone first." I can't really back up my argument there. 

Our guest was Jack Samuel Warner, a proficient MC and comic. He abandoned any chance of doing material and fucked about with the audience. He climbed around them and between them and picked on a few people. I think he did well to fill the time though I was unsure whether the audience were going for it as the noise from the bar was deafening.

Tagline: Our guest spot JSW re-enacting Bonnie Tyler's Total Eclipse of the Heart video in the middle of the audience. (That's a fucking niche joke)

We left early to go to see the Horne Section again. It was fun except that the audience weren't as "up-for-it" as they were the other day. The trumpeter got injured during a dance routine and had to leave the stage for the rest of the gig so we missed out on a medley unfortunately.

Elaine went to the toilet and came out heaving saying, "How can you shit at the side of the toilet?" The heaving was brilliant because it was genuine. There is something very funny about someone genuinely heaving. I don't understand shitting next to a toilet either. I don't understand shitting in a public toilet full stop. 

Chateau Briand and Josie Long tomorrow, I'm excited about that. 

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