Friday, 27 April 2007

Gregory Peck Was Incredibly Handsome

Electric Mouse

I am on at the Electric Mouse comedy club on Monday. This is the WESTMINSTER venue, not Baker Street as I had advised some of you.

Here are all the details.

I had a fun time in Basingstoke last night, at the local football team's clubhouse. They responded very well when I said: 'Lovely to be here. I've never been to a gay bar before.'

Tuesday, 24 April 2007

You’re Just Wrong

Despite not owning a television, I managed to catch Jacqui Oatley’s debut as a commentator on Match of the Day.

Even before she took to the mic, the very notion that a woman might be given such an opportunity caused paroxysms of despair among the football fraternity. Dave Bassett, whom I had always thought of as a rather avuncular character, offered the following insight:

‘Commentary is different. You must have an understanding of the game and the tactics, and I think in order to do that you need to have played the game. When she commentates at the weekend, I shall not be watching.’

A rugged but correct assessment from an expert? A bold stand against political correctness? A wrongheaded but nonetheless harmless and charmingly eccentric remark? A blow for male freedom? None of the above.

We can be much too tolerant of this sort of idiocy. I stand firm alongside those who are disquieted by the pace of change in this country, and with those who baulk at criminalising people for articulating unpopular viewpoints. That doesn’t mean that I think Bassett and others should make their remarks unchallenged. But that’s what they and their ilk want – to be left secure in their prejudices, free from awkward dissenting voices. Sorry lads, no dice.

The first (unoriginal) point to make is that Jacqui Oatley has played football. If Bassett means that you have to have played top flight professional football, then (as others have highlighted)pretty much every commentator is ruled out. (Pundits are a different matter, and we will return to them.) As Bassett has not objected publicly to John Motson’s career, it’s fair to wonder if in fact he specifically has a problem with women in football.

Some men genuinely believe that women necessarily cannot fully comprehend the intricacies of sport. No-one has ever offered me a better explanation than ‘they just can’t’. The thing about any stonewall, self-evident thesis is that - if one can be bothered - one can immediately cite overwhelming reasons for supporting it.

People who think women can’t understand sport need to counter the FACTS: women do play sport; some of the finest male commentators and journalists have not played at a high level or even at all; there is no compelling evidence that women have inferior brains; a paucity of women in certain professions inevitably means that it can take time for standards to rise (international women footballers are definitely much better now that so many more girls play the game); and ad hominem attacks do not prove a broader point.

You need to be articulate and shrewd to describe a football match. Anyone who truly thinks that a woman can’t fit that description is a bloody fool, plain and simple. Anyone who wants to assert that falsehood as fact regardless of how women and decent people will feel is an arsehole.

A perfectly sensible argument is that top level pundits - who ANALYSE the game - should have a wealth of experience in the sport. Moreover, unless they’ve been knocking around for a long time, it’s unlikely that someone who hasn’t actually played themselves is going to be the best choice for that job.

Ron Atkinson had a famously and hilariously fragile grasp on the English language, but he could dissect what had happened on a football pitch brilliantly, and was superb at talking through events immediately the action replay began. (He alone is to blame for his departure from our screens, however.)

So there is a place for the inarticulate on TV, and indeed for monumentally stupid people on the pitch. The simpleton nature of several Premiership footballers shows that experience does bolster understanding. But I wouldn’t give David Beckham a microphone and a sheepskin coat if I was a BBC editor.

I would give Jacqui Oatley 6/10, and 8/10 as a debut mark. That’s not being patronising. When Alan Hansen started as a pundit he KEPT saying ‘absolutely magnificent’, but has now come up with some other superlatives, and is excellent. Graeme Le Saux has shown noticeable improvement, and Gary Lineker certainly was not the assured voice he is today when he began. I know myself from debating and stand-up that these things take time.

My major gripe would be, ironically, that Jacqui Oatley sounded a bit young. I was brought up listening to Brian Moore and Barry Davies, whose solemn tones lent the occasion of a football match the gravity I felt it merited. That said, I’ll be glad if John Motson ceases to monopolise major games. His obsessive relaying of irrelevant statistics evidently delights some fans. I find it wilfully autistic and annoying.

I very much deprecate the fact that in other areas of television (e.g. the news and the weather) experienced professionals are being edged out in favour of good looking women who aren’t as competent. It’s unfair on the craggy faced experts, and also casts an undeserved shadow on bright, able television journalists who also happen to be hotties.

And yes, women can’t compete with men on the pitch at the highest level because they’re not strong enough. For God’s sake stop going on about it. It’s not as though most men are all that strong either. I can lift a 200kg barbell off the ground, which is probably more than you could manage, but a lot less than what some female powerlifters can do. There are huge numbers of women who would put your (let alone my own) aerobic fitness levels to shame. And guess what - a female footballer may even be much more skilful than you. (Gasp!)

I can forgive men for being a bit wary about women emerging in football. I used to enjoy the fact that games lessons at school gave us a chance to hang out as the lads. I would be prepared to engage in civil disobedience if private organisations with single sex memberships were banned; I believe in freedom of association passionately.

But it is unwholesome and unpleasant that some men dislike women so thoroughly, and are so determined to bar their entry into the wider world. Football is our national sport, not some local cult. Of course women will want to be involved. It’s not admirable or brave of stupid, boorish men to try to obstruct their progress, or snipe from the sidelines. I shudder at the thought of someone treating my Mum or my sister, or my friends, or any daughter I might have, or any female, like that. And so should you.

There is no serious case for stopping women from commentating on football. If I’m wrong, you will be able to prove me wrong. And saying ‘it just shouldn’t be allowed’ isn’t going to cut it.

Monday, 23 April 2007

If It Makes You Happy …

One sheet? ONE sheet? ONE SHEET?

Is she high?

I don’t believe that she uses that little herself, and if she does, she must stink.

Penguins And Stringbean

Always, always, always, ALWAYS go and see The Penguin Disagrees.

And James Taylor, whom I am seeing tonight!

Sunday, 22 April 2007

London Society 4

To Colchester this weekend to catch up with Roy Keane, whose Sunderland United team were playing.

Roy really has made the most splendid fist of it at Sunderland. He has got the boys playing what even I recognise as attractive soccer, and they have reaped the dividends. Alas, Colchester emerged victorious on this occasion, but apparently Sunderland are still favourites to join the Premiership League. Well of course they are. There is nothing sub-par about Roy. Why don’t they just put Sunderland United in the Premiership division now and be done with it?

Colchester is, of course, an army town. I can’t help feeling that an opportunity was missed. There could have been some sort of small scale military tattoo at half time, with all the lads dressed up in their uniforms banging their drums for us. Instead we had to endure frightful popular music (popular with WHOM? Simpletons, that’s who) for the quarter-of-an-hour it took the players to munch their oranges between plays.

But it was a joy, as ever, to see Roy. I must say that I was relieved that his somewhat ill-advised beard had gone. Mind you, there is a good tradition of beards among poetic types. I personally am not a fan, however.

Less happy is the latest news surrounding Julian Clary and Norman Lamont. Apparently Norman has become rather TOO close to his personal trainer, the large Nubian called ‘Felix’ whom I mentioned before.

As gentle as he is, Julian is a rather jealous type, and he confronted Felix at the party Norman had thrown in a Colchester nightclub. (NOT the sort of place we normally frequent. It was full of scantily-clad women from the lower orders, whose willingness to French Kiss men knew no bounds. Norms snogged three just for sport.) Felix too is gentle away from the wrestling mat – thank God as he could kill five men without blinking if he wanted to – and so the two got involved in a torturous conversation in which both expressed their ‘feelings’. Ugh.

Personally I think it’s much better to keep one’s emotions tightly controlled. If one really has demons one should exorcise them through physical activity, not exercise them through discussion. Maybe there is something to this football lark after all. Maybe Roy is secretly aggressive! Pah, hardly. He’s a lamb.

Anyway, we all drank FAR too much, and had to leave at midnight when some of the Colchester footballers got annoyed with Felix, who was attracting too much attention from the cow women (not one of them had a well turned ankle, not one of them had a dress that did not reveal flesh that only a gynaecologist should see). Roy was worried that a fight might ensue, especially when Norman screamed ‘the free market was supposed to keep peasants like you in line’ and ‘respect your betters’ at the players. But Felix managed to placate them with some soothing words, and we all left in one piece.

Julian flounced off (most unlike him) with a sympathetic and concerned Roy, and Norms and I headed to the one nearby club that is suited to fellows like us. Nothing much came of it though. We sat drinking pear brandy and looking at the waiters until 3, then made our way back to some ghastly hotel where soap, shampoo and coffee all come in individually wrapped single servings. Why do I allow myself to be cajoled into spending so much time in the provinces?

This is - as ever - not real, folks.

Friday, 20 April 2007

Evening Standard Letter

I have a letter in today’s Evening Standard. It’s not available online, but herewith the full text of what I wrote:

19th April 2007

Dear Sir,

The Conservatives’ embarrassing failure to seduce Greg Dyke reveals a wrongheaded approach to winning the London Mayoralty. We owe it to the capital to offer a truly conservative candidate.

Unquestionably, Ken Livingstone is a formidable opponent. His has huge public recognition. He has convinced the world that he is a loveable straight shooter. Even his enemies call him ‘Ken’. He has a Teflon quality that allows him to cavort with some truly loathsome thugs free from significant censure.

So it is tempting for the Conservatives to field the most glamorous candidate they can lay their hands on, in an effort to overcome Livingstone’s legendary charm. But it would be folly. The fact is that the Mayor has that side of things sewn up. He is as cool as Nelson Mandela.

An alternative approach is to fight Livingstone with principled policies.

The admirable conduct of Rudy Giuliani in light of the 9/11 outrages greatly improved his public standing. But the reason he has a chance of becoming American President is his overall record as Mayor of New York.

London’s biggest problem is crime and disorder. London needs a Mayor who will really swell the number of police officers on the beat, who will crack down on anti-social behaviour such as graffiti, and who believes that there must be no no-go areas in the city. Anyone who thinks it can’t be done should look across the Atlantic to New York, where big strides have been made in the right direction.

Livingstone may point to recent figures showing a fall in crime. But the fact remains that people do not feel safe. Giuliani understood that tolerating comparatively low level crime such as graffiti and vandalism creates an environment where much worse things fester. He was not willing to give up on his city. Scandalously, London’s Mayor has shown no such resolve.

Our candidate has to get elected before they can turn things around. They must use every medium – including television, the press, the Internet, direct mail and public meetings – to get their message across. Simply put, they must HAVE a message. Just being famous isn’t going to cut it. Getting famous will be easier than they think if they have something worthwhile to say.

Then maybe Ken – I mean Livingstone – will have something to worry about.

Yours faithfully,

Tom Greeves

(Conservative Central Office 1999-2003)

Wednesday, 18 April 2007

He Sings It Best When …

These contrasting versions of the same song are very revealing.

This is Alison Krauss. This is Ronan Keating.

I am a capitalist. If people want to buy Ronan Keating’s records, they must be allowed to do so. I imagine his UK sales far outstrip those of Alison Krauss and Union Station. So be it.

Normally I can’t stand it when people moan about the popularity of inferior art. First of all, it’s not always inferior (if you think you can write a best selling novel or pop song or a box office smashing film script just like that, you go ahead). Second of all, I think it’s far healthier to concentrate on art that one does like. I think that I am, and that many of the comics I’ve met on the circuit are, funnier than several mainstream comedians. I don’t choose to bleat about it because I’m really not that bothered. And thirdly, it is increasingly easy – not least with the Internet – to search out good stuff. You don’t have to listen to Radio One (but you do have to pay for it if you own a television in this country).

Yet I do find it depressing, and not a little vulgar, that what can only be described as objectively inferior material achieves such popularity. According to wikipedia, When You Say Nothing At All was written by Paul Overstreet and Don Schlitz, and first released in 1988 by the late Keith Whitley.

The Alison Krauss cover of this song (which song I had dismissed as insipid tat having only heard Keating warbling it) is gorgeous. She has a voice that is at once amazing and simple. She is backed by a group of superb musicians. The lyrics come alive.

By contrast, the Ronan Keating version is devoid of beauty, and the stuff of nightmares. His vocals are tortured (and not a little torturous). Singing in that strangled unnatural way is unacceptable in the lead singer of a fourth form rock band. In a grown man it is a hanging offence. The instruments (or computers) accompanying him produce an utterly soulless, disposable noise, and the way the backing singers breathlessly echo him makes me want to go on a sword rampage. Listening to the song in its entirety is an endurance feat worthy of a marathon runner.

Keating even has the temerity to alter the lyrics:

Old Mr. Webster
Could never define
What’s being said
Between your
Heart and mine


Try as they may
They can never define

I can scarcely articulate how hateful I find this. The proper version is romantic and delightful. The bastardised version is, well, bastard, bastard, bastard, BASTARD.

Webster’s Dictionary may not be very well known in this country, but one of the joys of an interesting lyric is trying to work out what it means (or sometimes placing one’s own meaning on it). And if one doesn’t understand something, one can always – gasp – DO SOME RESEARCH.

I suppose it is achingly post modern that Keating and his advisers felt that a reference to a reference book was too esoteric for a pop song. But it is not agreeably post modern.

I would worry that criticising an artist is bad karma. But then again, I’m not a f-king communist. I also feel a little guilty as Ronan Keating gives every impression of being a thoroughly nice guy.

But there you go.

Tuesday, 17 April 2007


I am toying with the idea of taking up a martial art once I'm fitter. (I know that martial arts are good for fitness, but I think I'd be more comfortable if I was leaner first.)

Thus far I have been interested by Krav Maga, Aikido, Jujitsu and Judo. I like the practicality of the first (it's an Israeli system that focuses on effectiveness ahead of anything else), and am attracted by the movements and aesthetics of the second. I've always been faintly drawn to Judo, and I quite like the idea of doing a sport as well as learning self defence. Today Judo is edging ahead as favourite.

I am not interested in mumbo jumbo philosophy, nor in high kicks and flying chops. Don't get me wrong, I'm sure that a good class would be an eye opener, but a lot of what I've read about martial arts is palpable nonsense. Karate and Kickboxing are great to watch, but I'm not built for them. I'm a natural grappler. I did Kung Fu for a while, and it just didn't suit me.

That said, striking must have its place, and it may be that it's worth learning more than one style. But Judo seems to offer a chance to do a tough sport with fewer risks than a sport where you can get punched in the face.

If any of you know anything about these or other martial arts, I'd love to hear from you. My email address is at the top of the page.


This article and this article both, in their way, show why my friend Paul Maynard would make such a bloody good MP.

Do read the latest one too. In fact I suggest you make the blog a staple read.


I’ve added Alex Horne and Alison Krauss to my links, and I’ve also taken the opportunity to edit my blogroll a bit. This is to reflect the fact that I am much less of a political blogger these days.

However, if you would like me to restore your link let me know (no-one’s been blackballed, and if you think my link was worthwhile, I’m happy to put you back). And indeed if you want me to add you for the first time, I will consider doing so. I won’t be linking to any blogs in future unless the compliment is returned, however.

Check out the top of my blog for my email address.

Honing, Horning

I’ve just got in from tonight’s (now last night’s) Free Beer Show.

In many ways it was a watershed gig, but subtly so. I was off form, and hadn’t thought through my political stuff adequately, whilst at the same time I was too structured.

And yet it went OK. They say that the sign of a great football team is that they win when they play badly. So gigs like that aren’t all bad.

Knowing how much to prepare is an ongoing battle for me. I think I’ve had a realisation. I need to work the ideas through in my head, so that I know the material when I’m up there, but in terms of preparation on the day just have three broad topics in my mind (maybe more for longer sets) and then play around up on stage.

I made a point of being a little less filthy. I wanted to try it as I was worried I was becoming a one trick pony. Adam reckons that filth is the way forward though, and I think he’s right. I find it funny myself, and so do the audiences (including people one might not expect, like – erm – women).

One also needs to be pithy when talking about politics. I will try to keep that in my mind at all times. Well, not at ALL times, but you know what I mean.

Alex Horne was great. Do see his show if you get a chance.

Sunday, 15 April 2007


I am pleased to report that I will performing in Edinburgh this Summer.

Rob Alderson, Nick Hodder and myself are ‘Ifnotcomedians’. We will be taking to the stage at 3.45pm at the Ivanhoe throughout the August run, as part of the Free Fringe.

More details nearer the time, but we’re up for the whole run. It won’t cost you a penny to see us (although donations will be most welcome). I’m confident that you’ll have a good time if you do come along. If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t be going up there.

This is a great opportunity, and it might just prove to be one of the best times of our lives.

Lashings Of (Free) Beer

In his infinite lack of wisdom, Paddy has once again given me a slot at the Free Beer Show, in Oxford. I’ll be on tomorrow night (i.e. Monday 16th April).

As per usual, we are at the Cellar, on Frewin Court (off Cornmarket Street), near the Oxford Union. Doors open at 8pm; the show starts at around 9:15pm.

I’m planning to do a greater amount of political stuff this time. Lefties and bigots shouldn’t consider stand-up their exclusive domain.

Friday, 13 April 2007

Ricardo Bailee

My highly capable friend Richard Bailey is building a freelance communications business.

As he does so, it would be useful for Richard to have the chance to top up his income through homeworking. Anyone interested in offering him such work, or in hiring him for his communications skills, can contact Richard on

Thursday, 12 April 2007

Alison Krauss

I’ve only heard a few songs by Alison Krauss, but I really like her. (James H’son is the only friend of mine who comprehensively shares my musical tastes, so it can take me a while to alight on good stuff.)

Here is Alison singing my favourite song.


Two of the finest comedians I’ve ever seen are strutting their stuff on a stage near you (if you live in mainland Britain or Luxembourg). Alistair Barrie and Silky will be DOUBLED UP at the following times, and so will you be (if you turn up). These dates are mixed in with Silky’s solo shows.

Do make the time to go and see them. You’ll have a great time (unless you’re a dickhead, which I doubt).

12-Apr-07 Thursday Hyena Café Leazes Lane, Newcastle Upon Tyne
13-Apr-07 Friday Hyena Café Leazes Lane, Newcastle Upon Tyne
14-Apr-07 Saturday Hyena Café Leazes Lane, Newcastle Upon Tyne
15-Apr-07 Sunday DOUBLED UP The Last Laugh, The Lescar Hotel, Sheffield.
18-Apr-07 Wednesday DOUBLED UP Lime-O-Lux, Scott’s Pub, Luxembourg
20-Apr-07 Friday DOUBLED UP Comedy at the Rec, Awsworth, Nottinghamshire
22-Apr-07 Sunday DOUBLED UP The Crack Comedy Club The Grey Horse, Kingston
26-Apr-07 Thursday The Comedy Junction The Station Pub, Station St. Sutton Coldfield
27-Apr-07 Friday Swansea Grand Theatre
28-Apr-07 Saturday The Saturday Session Hi Fi Club, Leeds
29-Apr-07 Sunday New Stuff Night Manchester Store.
1-May-07 Tuesday The Picturedrome, 222 Kettering Road, Northampton NNI 5BN
2-May-07 Wednesday DOUBLED UP, NOSH, Almondbury, Huddersfield
5-May-07 Saturday DOUBLED UP Royal Agricultural College, Cirencester
6-May-07 Sunday DOUBLED UP Bonitos Banbury (Afternoon)
6-May-07 Sunday DOUBLED UP The Bullingdon Cowley Road, Oxford (Evening)
7-May-07 Monday DOUBLED UP Outside the Box Kingston
8-May-07 Tuesday Downstairs at the King's Head
11-May-07 Friday Preston University 53 Degrees, Brook St, Preston
13-May-07 Sunday DOUBLED UP The Village Crosby
14-May-07 Monday Dementia Benefit, Comedy Store, London
17-May-07 Thursday The Last Laugh Lescar Hotel, Sharrowvale Road, Sheffield.
18-May-07 Friday The Roundhouse Sheffield
19-May-07 Saturday The Roundhouse Sheffield
20-May-07 Sunday DOUBLED UP Mr Lynch Newcastle
22-May-07 Tuesday DOUBLED UP The Full Ponty Pontypridd
23-May-07 Wednesday DOUBLED UP The Stand Glasgow
24-May-07 Thursday DOUBLED UP Theatr Clwyd Raikes Lane, Mold
25-May-07 Friday DOUBLED UP Cragrats Holmfirth
26-May-07 Saturday DOUBLED UP The Piper Comedy Club Hull
27-May-07 Sunday DOUBLED UP The Other Side York
3-Jun-07 Sunday Bonitos Banbury (Afternoon)
3-Jun-07 Sunday The Bullingdon Cowley Road, Oxford (Evening)
5-Jun-07 Tuesday DOUBLED UP Fat Tuesday, Islington
6-Jun-07 Wednesday DOUBLED UP Midlands Arts Centre, Birmingham

Tuesday, 10 April 2007

Every Day Is Like Friday (When It’s Sunny)

Oh yes.

I love acoustic sets. Indeed, all good songs can be rendered with just a guitar and a voice.

On Gloves

This article will be of no interest whatsoever to most of you. Do read it.

In fact, it raises a number of important issues.

1. Why am I still so obsessed with goalkeeper gloves when I haven’t played for years?

2. Why don’t I start playing again?

3. It is a useful case for those of us interested in anti-trust law. I am very interested in it, which is why I posted on it a few times when the blog began.

If the footy-boots article is correct, then Ben Foster could have made a lot more money from an alternative glove endorsement. This is highly plausible. He is well on his way to becoming England’s Number One. Nike and adidas are both enormous brands, and it might well have suited their purposes to offer Foster a contract beyond his wildest dreams.

He has opted to stick with Sells. This is a much smaller, newer company, founded in 2001. They have spread like wildfire in this country, initially targeting professionals (Robert Green and Dean Kiely are shareholders). I don’t know what the company’s annual income is – but I’d bet anything that it’s NOTHING like the size of those of adidas or Nike.

What does this tale tell us? Firstly, that Sells must be offering a very good product. If they can persuade international goalkeepers to turn down lucrative contracts, they must have something going for them. Loyalty appears to have played a part for Foster, but I doubt he’d have stuck with Sells if he felt that he could combine a big payday with a superior product. No-one could have blamed him if that had been the situation.

It also shows that we do not need legislation to stop bigger companies crowding the market. There are several brands flourishing throughout the world. Some of them are new, but companies like Reusch have been around pretty much since keepers started wearing gloves as standard. (Admittedly Reusch have slipped off the British stage a little, but they had the Brazilian and Argentine keepers on their books at the last World Cup.) The big boys have broken into the market, inevitably. But so have newer, specialist brands.

People argue that Reusch, Sondico and Uhlsport are bound to make better gloves than Nike or adidas because the former have more expertise. Well, that ignores the flipside – the fact that larger companies can spend more on research and development. The state really does not need to get involved. The consumer is getting a great deal – lots of companies competing and thus driving up standards.

And I have limited sympathy for the view that the big companies get away with persuading some top players to wear inferior tat though huge payments. No contract could persuade a player to jeopardise his performance. Boris Becker actually bought Puma rackets after being dropped by the brand as an endorsee. And the managers wouldn’t stand for it anyway.

The Sells story is remarkable because they have competed with the larger companies without being a long established brand. I don’t cheer for them just because they’re a British brand – I believe in the protection offered by a good glove, but not economic protection. But it is good to see them excel, and it’s heartening that Adam Sells is in this world – from what I’ve read his own obsession with goalkeeper gloves make me look positively indifferent.

There’s no suggestion that I’m aware of that legislators want to get their teeth into this specific area. But it does help to prove a point. And not just the point that I am a lunatic obsessive.

Big business can be good, and a welcome player in a market. So too can a brilliant little guy. Through superb marketing skills and tactics, Sells have built a brand that deserves to be celebrated. The purists who bemoan the ubiquity of the swoosh and the three stripes can breathe a sigh of relief. There are new companies out there building their brands and making history. And Nike was a little company once! (When my old boss Seb Coe started out as one of their endorsees they were almost unheard of in this country.)

The best gloves I’ve ever worn? Reusch. I’ve had a cheaper and a more expensive pair (the latter hardly worn – I really MUST start playing when I’m fitter). Both were excellent.

I’ve never worn Sells, but if they’re good enough for Ben Foster, they must be pretty damn good.

That was post number 400. I love blogging.

Thursday, 5 April 2007

David Cross

In the latest instalment in a continuing series, comedian David Cross makes some very sensible remarks about political protest.

I want to see this guy live.

I’m off to see Wil Hodgson in a bit. He used to be a member of the Communist Party. I’m more broadminded than you might think …

Wednesday, 4 April 2007

Conservative Home

I should be in bed, but I’ve just posted on Conservative Home. I don’t like the look of these proposals for the Scottish Party.

That’s under my name, which is Tom Greeves.

Just Sitting Around, Snorting Dad


Money quote:

‘He was cremated and I couldn’t resist grinding him up with a little bit of blow … It went down pretty well, and I’m still alive.’

I also enjoyed:

‘I’ve been trepanned. That’s quite an interesting experience, especially for my brain surgeon, who saw my thoughts flying around in my brain. I’ve got pictures of it, mate.

‘They cut my head, brain, skull open, went in and pulled out the crap, and put some of it back again.’

One doesn’t normally associate the Rolling Stones with being remotely interesting, but that’s some anecdote. Thanks to The Steve for first drawing it to my attention.

Tuesday, 3 April 2007

You Tube Debut

Herewith another stand up set. It’s from some time ago, and not one of my best, but there are moments I’m pleased with. The sound isn’t great, not least because my mic technique was sub-optimal.

It’s also nice to be reminded that I don’t always do sick stuff! There’s some political material in this one. All in all the set is better than I had remembered it. In many ways realising or being told that a set you were disappointed in was pretty good is the best feeling in comedy.

The stuff about what happened when I went to South Carolina isn’t true, by the way!

The set comes in not one but two parts.

UPDATE: This set is from 18th June 2006.

Monday, 2 April 2007

Dave The Rave

I’m not supposed to find this funny. But I do. Very funny. I love Charlie Brooker.

Needless to say some of the comments below it are from arseholes, but then that’s standard on a blog.

I’ve Told You Once

Blimey. This guy and this guy are gluttons for punishment aren’t they?
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