Teddy

I realise Rangers have entered administration rather than filed for bankruptcy, but I was looking for some alliteration on the ‘B’ in the title.

I’m feeling quite shite this week (for The Heff’s benefit I’ll drop the starring of my expletives). Being a comedian and a writer is in no way comparable to being down a mine or having to put in any kind of tough physical shift, but it still has the ability to take a toll on you.

What I always struggle with is having to juggle different writing projects at once, I always find it to be a mind-fuck. At the moment, I’m preparing to make my 2nd appearance on Jo Caulfield’s ‘The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly’ podcast to be recorded at The Stand in Edinburgh on Wednesday night, but I’ve also come up with questions and then my own answers for Episode 4 of the Scottish Comedy FC podcast to be recorded earlier that same evening in Glasgow.

On top of that, I’ve edited and posted up three people’s articles onto the football site in the last two days, I’ve had other writing work that I can’t mention at this point which took up yesterday morning in researching and a bit of yesterday afternoon in writing up. Tonight I’m off out with the missus for St V’s Day, tomorrow I’m doing last-min prep for the double podcast recording, then appearing in both. On Thursday I’m editing the SCFC podcast and then putting it up, before heading along to The Stand in Glasgow for the first of a 3-night run.

Between Thursday night and Friday morning I’ll have to find time to write my own regular SCFC article, then spend Friday daytime working on a paid piece of writing work that’s come in. Saturday I’ll be at the Rangers match during the day, then gigging at night. Sunday will be spent focusing on getting that aforementioned paid writing work done.

All the while, I’ll be juggling various thoughts at the back of my head…including the news that more than half of the flats in our block haven’t paid for the roofing repairs that January storms rendered necessary (I have), and that Rangers are in administration.

The Rangers story is depressing, but perhaps not as depressing as a conversation I wasted last night having on Twitter (so much of my current overload is my own doing).  I attempted some gallows humour by making a joke of the situation…only for a Rangers fan to call me a wanker and tell me to enjoy my jelly and ice cream. This being a reference which assumed me to be a Celtic fan, I was then sucked into engaging him (I foolishly thought reasoning with him was an option). A glance at his timeline revealed that prior to me he’d sent abuse to a footballer and a football commentator. I picked him up on this. He accused them of “digs” at Rangers and said he’d do the same again.

One of the comments called the commentator a “wannabe knob-jockey”. Quite. I think few statements could address the issues relating to the appointment of an administrator to a football club quite as succinctly as that. Why wouldn’t you “say the same again”? 

By the end of talking to him I felt completely drained. Talking to idiots isn’t to be encouraged. It drags you down instead of dragging them up. My favourite bit was when he claimed that a “so-called top comedian” (that being me apparently) was calling for him to be “booted off twitter” for what he’d said to me. I had to point out that a top comedian wouldn’t bother replying to him on Twitter. Also, what I’d actually said was that he should read his own timeline, said what he’d said to the footballer and commentator…and then delete his twitter himself.

I no longer find the thought of the existence of extra-terrestrial intelligence to be frightening. I find the knowledge of the lack of terrestrial intelligence frightening.

Sorry none of this is funny.

Happy Valentine’s Day.

Teddy x

I remember reading that cat owners are less likely to suffer heart attacks, something that has been anecdotally put down to the soothing effects of having something else to look after and care for, and that soft coat to cuddle and pet while the little ball of fur in question purrs away contentedly. There have been many moments in the 9 or so months since getting our cat where I’ve felt that way.

What I’m feeling as I sit typing this…is utterly exhausted. She’s been waking up at 5am, when shut in the living room, and begun wailing, scratching, and rattling the door to get out. For the purposes of us getting some sleep and not having the neighbours apply for an ASBO, we’d then let her into the bedroom. For the first few weeks of this, she’d either settle down on the bed or go to the window to look out. (We had to pull the blinds up a bit for her to do this, but anything for a bit of peace).

As the animal behaviouralists among you will have anticipated…this has only led to earlier and earlier wailing & scratching sessions, followed by increasingly less docile and benign behaviour on reaching the bedroom. Rather than wanting to settle down beside us, she feels that we need to share in her crepuscular sleep pattern and have to be roused from our slumbers to pay her attention. Hence, whatever she can find on a shelf or windowsill will be dislodged to wake us up.

Having phone the vet’s to ask for advice, we’ve been told that it’s natural cat behaviour and is just a case of re-conditioning her not to be allowed into the bedroom before we get up in the morning. The problem with this is that while she’s adjusting to her new position on the losing side of the aforementioned battle of wills…she’s wailing and thumping the living room door from 5am until 7am when one of us will be getting up anyway.

The noise carries through the living room door that’s taking the battering and through the bedroom door too. That, combined with the fear of quite what the neighbours make of it, is knocking two hours off my sleep every day.

Today, I’m on MacAulay & Co on Radio Scotland at around 11.10am, talking about public transport. After that I’m going to a press conference at Firhill where Partick Thistle are announcing their new kit sponsor (we were kindly invited along so I’m going on behalf of the football site), and after that I have to do some writing for the Good, The Bad, and The Ugly podcast at The Stand in Edinburgh which I’m doing on Wednesday night. I said I’d get some stuff done for late afternoon / early evening though.

Before I head off to do MacAulay & Co, I also have to head to the sorting office just over a mile away to pick up a parcel for the missus. Normally I’d walk it, but I think the combination of time constraints and the kind of sleep deprivation where I feel a little bit like I’m going to vomit will lead to the bus. Don’t worry bus-goers, I’m pretty sure I’m not actually going to vomit.

Who knows how much longer this will go on for before the cat gets the message?

If I sound exhausted and babbly on the radio this morning, or at the GBU recording on Wednesday night, or on the next Scottish Comedy FC podcast (which I’m recording a couple of hours before the GBU show) then I apologise. At least you’ll know the reason.

What’s the worst that can happen? I sound sluggish and unfunny and fail to be invited back onto the radio, onto anyone else’s podcast, and even onto a podcast that I myself host. From that, people lose confidence in my abilities as a stand-up in general. I become destitute and end up living on the streets, wearing grimy urine-soaked rags. To cope with things, I develop a chronic alcohol problem, leading to early-onset cirrhosis of the liver. In the final stages of that I suffer from Korsakoff’s alcohol-related dementia so that my mental health joins my physical health in being shot to pieces.

Meanwhile, in an alternate reality, a cat-less version of me is performing with aplomb across all forms of broadcast and social media. I’m getting more work and earning more money so it becomes easier to plan what jobs to take when. The removal of this uncertainty both benefits my mental health and allows me to stick to a regular gym schedule. My physical and mental health have never been better. I am Teddy 2.0, somewhere between being Iron Man and an omnipotent alien super-being.

Right. I’m going to have a shower. On my way I’m going to try to avoid tripping over the kitty who remains my pride and joy despite it all and tell myself how healthy I feel.

Nauseously, yawningly healthy.

Teddy x

One of my mates, The Heff, has just texted me to point out that by not blogging recently I’ve been breaking the chain that I’d sought to establish. The unfortunate problem was that when I had time to establish a chain of blogs…I had little of interest to actually put in them so was probably killing you all with boredom. In the last couple of weeks I’ve actually been pretty busy. Let me try to summarise.

Gigs – Last week I was in Aberdeen gigging at Snafu, then at Maggie Mays in Glasgow, and spent Saturday night gigging at a curry night in what I imagine is Burntisland’s only Pottery Bistro. I’m tempted to suggest that it’s Fife’s only pottery bistro – but there’s no telling what St Andrews is up to. It was a fun night, and my fears that the audience and surroundings may be a bit too sedate proved to be unfounded. Why did they prove to be unfounded? Because fairly early into the compere, Ray Bradshaw, chatting to the audience…one of them was joking that he was a rapist. Even I would struggle to push things more than the crowd themselves had!

The other interesting thing about the gig was that it was BYOB, and I realised the effect that this can have. On acts, rather than punters! At a gig, I may consume 0-1 pints. If I do have a pint it’ll usually be nursed over the course of the night so that I’m not risking stumbling or slurring anything. Having established that the gig was BYOB…a feeling of panic set in, and 3 bottles of Tyskie were purchased from the Co-Op. Why did I need 3 bottles of beer? No idea, other than the effect that unavailability has on the mind. I had two before going on, and enjoyed the third in the car on the way back. (I wasn’t driving!)

Football site – The Scottish Comedy FC site continues to take up a lot of my time as I’m editing articles before putting them up on the site, as well as writing my own weekly article. About ten days ago we put up the 1st episode of the podcast too…and that’s gone very well. I’m now attempting to coordinate the next few recordings of that, and how to possibly do some live recordings and make it self-funding to have them properly recorded and edited.

Am I bullsh*tting about the podcast going well?

Check out this screengrab from yesterday. I direct your attention to positions 21 & 22:

Would anybody like to sponsor a popular football podcast…? Get in touch (really).

What effect has been busy had on other aspects of life?

I’m struggling to get to the gym so much (think it was twice last week), and the cat is going mental at not being played with enough. I’ve had to fend off an attempt at pushing the Macbook shut to finish this blog. Having given up on that, she hopped up onto some shelves and began pushing off whatever she could dislodge.

I need to finish this blog, play with her, then head out to go and meet the other woman in my life. She’s finishing work at 5 and we’re going to the cinema.

Right. I need to go.

Anything else before I do…? Oh yeah. Does anyone else overthink things when they see a lollipop person? I saw one today when there was nobody else about. I crossed the road before I got to him as I was making myself neurotic worrying about whether I’d have to let him help me across to avoiding him thinking I was snubbing him…or whether he’d think I was a tw*t if I let him.

Neurosis-inducing situations are all around us.

Stay strong.

Teddy x

Dobry vecer!

You can now hear what Ray Bradshaw (@comedyray), Richard Hunter, Gordon Alexander (@goalexander), and myself were getting up to on Thursday night in Leith. I realise I’m not really selling that…

Anyway, the first episode of the Scottish Comedy FC podcast is up now.

You can subscribe via iTunes here

or listen via the player here

For anyone with a fear of parochial Scottish football chat, we actually manage to mention Bosnia, the Cup of African Nations, and a surprising amount of detail about English railway lines! Remember – Scottish Comedians, World Game.

I was at Ibrox today watching the Rangers v Aberdeen game. The final score was disappointing…as was the first 60mins, bar the performances of Sone Aluko & Maurice Edu. At least the last half hour after Aberdeen’s goal comprised mainly of Rangers shots & corners. Two points dropped…but you never know what can happen between now and the end of the season.

Having got back to the flat I remembered that I meant to nip out to Currys to buy new ink cartridges for my printer. Unfortunately it shut at 6pm…just as I got to the door. Am I changing the ink cartridges because the ones in my printer have run out? No, it’s because my printer went on the blink ages ago after the last time I changed them (it’s printing out blank pages) and my technologically illiterate mind can come up with nothing else to do other than to buy new cartridges, change them and hope it magically works. Written down, that sounds even more stupid. Especially when cartridges seem to cost more than printers these days.

The missus is sick of me using her printer to print things out (whatever happened to sharing?) and I’ve been monitoring the tone of her growls, waiting for the crucial point at which I had to actually address the non-working nature of my printer. I got about 5 months out of her printer before the growl-pitch became critical, that’s not bad. I shall faff about with my one tomorrow and see what gives.

The missus isn’t about as I’m typing this so I can’t give you a running commentary on her irritation at my various forms of internet noodling. I can tell you that her and the cat are united in their annoyance at being ignored while I edit articles, write blogs, upload podcasts etc. The cat has just expressed her own frustrations at this point by making a bid to chew through a 2nd set of my earphones. I’d probably better go and check how successful she’s been. She’s either a luddite, or simply wants to deny me earphones so that I have to play out podcasts through speakers and she too can listen to Kermode & Mayo’s Radio 5 movie musings.

Right, this has been a short blog but I have to play with the cat and make some tea before the missus gets home from her shift. I know. I’m still finding it difficult to describe how it is that I’m busy these days, all I know is that I am.

I reckon that what happens when you die is that God goes through your timesheet with you and compares how much of your life was wasted on internet pornography in comparison to time spent engaging with loved ones and throwing balls for your cat to chase but not retrieve.

I’d better go.

Have a listen to the podcast and pass it on to any peeps you think may like it.

Cheers,
Teddy

I cooked schnitzels tonight (with gluten free breadcrumbs – I’m all about looking after the missus) with rosemary potato wedges. I’m feeling pleasantly stuffed, especially as dessert took the form of a Boost bar. As well as stuffed, I feel quite relaxed. The missus and I split a bottle of White Zinfandel (for those times when you can’t choose between juice or wine) and, having finished the wine, I’m now drinking a bottle of Kozel. Kozel is a Czech beer. It’s not my favourite in terms of taste, but the fact that Curlers Rest on Byres Road in Glasgow describe it in their drinks menu as “a great session beer” has endeared it to me greatly. (Staropramen, Budvar, Krusovice probably edge it on taste.)

What else have I done today? I wrote my article for Scottish Comedy FC, which took me longer than I’d anticipated, I’ve done a bit more writing for other unpaid speculative projects, changed the litter in the cat’s tray, posted a parcel for the missus, and I went to the gym.

The gym was good, aside from the paranoia that the modern age has instilled into men on their own in a changing room except for a young boy. Especially when he was making the noises of exertion / self-commentary that kids do when doing anything. Putting on his shoes met with a growl of effort and his mum was outside shouting “what are you doing?”. I then heard him shout “don’t come in” to her and given that I was in my sweat-soaked boxer shorts I was tempted to add “Yeah, don’t come in!” to let her know that there was someone else in there. Then I considered the effect of some guy shouting “don’t come in!” in that situation, made myself even more paranoid, got into my jeans as quickly as I could and scuttled out.

What a world this is.

Anyway, it’s Friday night, I have booze…and the missus has been subjected to my walk down 80s memory lane. She’s had the magic of Rick Astley (Take Me To Your Heart), The London Boys (Requiem), a Stock Aitken & Waterman megamix, and Brother Beyond (He Ain’t No Competition). Granted, the last one of that list was only to make the point that Rick Astley was a comparatively butch 80s pop star.

I love Astley. Saw him live at Cottier’s Theatre in Glasgow about 7 years ago when he was singing Easy Listening numbers with a Big Band. Great!

Anyway.

As I type this I’ve put on a song mentioned on ScottishComedyFC.com. It was recommended by Gary Black (http://www.trampledbat.com/) for the regular “Jukebox Durie” football song feature that Andy Todd does for the site. It’s frankly fantastic. You can play it here:

http://2manykids.com/fitba/The%20Supernaturals%20-%20High%20Tension%20At%20Boghead.mp3

How good is that?

Right. I’m going back to my Kozel.

Anything else to report?

Well, if anybody thought, “Teddy, that fuss over the reviews…comedians are always moaning, aren’t they?”, then check out this. Particularly the comments section:

http://www.scotsman.com/edinburgh-evening-news/the-guide/theatre/review_a_funny_thing_happened_on_the_way_to_the_forum_church_hill_theatre_1_1960504

I must commend Mr A. Borthwick on what I believe da kids are calling “a slam”.

Teddy x

I’ve had a fun day today. The black cloud of doom has been following me around for the last few days – as it always does when I’m reminded that life isn’t fair – but it lifted today. Those suggesting that I’d be better just learning that life isn’t fair and keeping that thought in mind… should remember that would make the cloud’s presence permanent rather than occasional. For those of you reading this and thinking “But you always moan like f**k as it is” – that’s not a cloud of doom, simply a normal and endearing personality trait.

The missus has just enquired as to what I’m doing and I’ve told her that I’m writing my blog.

“What are you writing about?”

“Dunno yet, I’m writing it.”

“Is it just ramblings and rumblings? People will get sick of it.”

“No. People will be fascinated by my descent…”.

After saying “descent” I considered that maybe I meant to say “decline”. I like “descent” though. Like I’m going potholing within my own w*nkishness.

It would almost be worth becoming famous simply to allow me to release an autobiography and call it “Potholing Within My Own W*nkishness”.

I’ve been disturbed from this psychologically self-involved reverie by the missus reading over my shoulder and complaining that I’m “just f*cking moaning” about her. She’s now suggested that I do something constructive like “Come up with an alternative to Capitalism”.

I’ve just considered doing so and rescuing the global economy simply to spite her. After giving it some thought, I’ve decided that it would be pretty unbecoming behaviour to develop a sustainable and equitable financial model to safeguard the future of mankind for no reason other than to stick two fingers up to my fiancee. Hence, for reasons of dignity, I shall be leaving you all to starve as I go back to writing up today’s events.

Why did I have fun today? I was back through in Edinburgh for the recording of the first Scottish Comedy FC podcast at the Canongate Studios in Leith. Al Lorraine & Richard Melvin were good enough to be on hand (Al in particular having to do a lot of rearranging of wires and mics to get things set up) to record our virgin emission. (That’s not a good phrase is it?) Myself, Ray Bradshaw, Richard Hunter, and Gordon Alexander had fun babbling away about football. I’m looking forward to hearing it (hopefully hearing it back doesn’t shatter the magic!) and I’ll keep you posted on when it goes up. I don’t want to spoil any highlights, but all I’ll say as a teaser is this: Gordon Alexander. Trains.

If you’d like to sponsor the SCFC podcast…then get in touch. To have a podcast produced slickly does cost money (I loved the Collings & Herrin podcasts but it would be weird if, say, ‘Football Weekly’ from The Guardian sounded like it) so we will need to find a sponsor to keep up the quality. Do you want to be in at the start of Scottish Comedy FC? Of course you do.

I had a good night in Edinburgh last night too, watching “The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly of Comedy”, though I still wasn’t fully over my little mood blip. It was good to see a new format in it’s early stages and I’m looking forward to doing the show on Feb 8th.

Anyway, I’d better go to bed.

Much as I’ve enjoyed today though, there has been a downside. I’ve been too busy to tweet Gary Glitter…

Hope you’re all well.

Teddy x

Tonight I’m off through to Edinburgh to watch The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly Side of Comedy at The Stand in Edinburgh. I’m going to be on the show on February 8th and submitted a bit of writing for tonight’s show that may or may not see the light of day so I thought it’d be good to get a feel for it. The GBU section of the show is going to be recorded and put out as a weekly podcast, and has evolved from the monthly “Jo Caulfield’s Comedy Collective” shows at The Stand. I’m sure it’ll be a good show, so if you’re looking for something to in Edinburgh tonight then I’d recommend it.

I’ve also been knocking up a show plan for the recording of a trial Scottish Comedy FC podcast in Edinburgh tomorrow evening. I’ll be joined by Ray Bradshaw, Gordon Alexander, and Richard Hunter – all regular contributors to the site. For this teaser-cum-taster pod (yes, that was partly an excuse to use the term cum-taster) we’re grateful for the assistance of Richard Melvin et al (actually, given that one of the other guys involved is called Al, that works better than I’d intended it to) at Dabster Productions. Richard is the genius (I realise that would usually have the word “maverick” or “evil” ahead of it, but he’s pretty sensible and not particularly malevolent) behind the Live @ The Stand podcasts and Radio Scotland show. Hence, look forward to our drivel at least sounding beautifully clear.

I was at the gym today for the third day in a row, as I continue the post-Christmas fightback against the united growth of waistline and black cloud of doom. I did two miles on the treadmill, and felt reassured by my ability to keep pace with the guy jogging next to me. Granted, he was already there when I got on it, and remained after I gave up…but you have to take these small moments of satisfaction where you can get them.

As for yesterday’s blog, I don’t want to say much more on it as I imagine that the tactic is to ignore my complaints so that my only option is to repeat them…and with each complaint damage the perception of my own credibility. Like a call centre just saying “What?” to everything you say, until you either shout (at which point they can hang up) or just give up yourself and hang-up the phone.

At the point where somebody won’t listen to a valid complaint from you, you have to have somebody else take it on who they’re unable to ignore.

We shall see what happens in that regard.

I’m struggling to come up with anything interesting to write today, but I’m fearful of breaking the chain of blogs. Also, I’m a comedian and comedy writer. It shouldn’t be beyond me to either invent something interesting or to add an interesting twist to an existing situation.

Hang on, let me go and have a look at the news.

OK, I’m back.

“UK torture inquiry is cancelled” – That’s a shame. When will BBC3 start listening to what people want? It sounds like a show I’d have watched.

“Russia warns against Iran strike” – quite right. Lazy gits. If they’re going to go on strike then just bring in casual staff to be Iranian instead. For £6 an hour I’m prepared to be a member of one of the world’s most ancient civilizations, live on chargrilled meats and freshly baked flatbreads, and attend the Persepolis v Esteghlal derby match.

“Should ‘rottweiler’ security lights be banned?” – It depends if they’re out at night or not. Maybe just put reflective collars on them so they don’t get hit by cars? Then again, shouldn’t they really be accompanied by humans?

There we go. Hilarious.

(Not actually hilarious.)

(Perhaps hilarious because they weren’t intended to be hilarious)

(Perhaps not hilarious because the intention to make them hilarious through non-hilarity was too obvious)

(Perhaps…you can overthink comedy.)

(Perhaps…given recent events…you can underthink comedy.)

(Almost certainly too many brackets.)

Teddy xxx

Remember those reviews that I mentioned? Having received no specific responses to the points I raised, I was advised to write to the letters page. Here’s my letter of complaint. I know it’s long…there was a lot to mention:

“It’s with trepidation about being seen as the classic whinging comedian that I contact you to complain about a number of recent comedy reviews by Barry Gordon. While I escaped relatively unscathed from Mr Gordon’s recent review of the Electric Tales night at The Stand, there have been too many mistakes made and too much abuse heaped onto comedians…and even onto one venue and it’s audience.

The Electric Tales review, for example, at no point gives readers the most basic information possible – that it’s a storytelling night. It goes on to have Mr Gordon offer his “tip” to Allan Miller (Edinburgh Evening News *****) on how he can become a “half-decent” performer. Either an attempt at patronising her or simply an inability to correctly remember what she actually said on the night means host Sian Bevan is described as “the self-confessed ‘bonny but glaikit’ Sian Bevan”. My sanity rather than my comedy was then reviewed, though I’m glad Mr Gordon was able to find me “sane” and “well rounded”. That will hopefully mean that this complaint is taken on board.

A November review for a Thursday night at The Stand described one comedian as a “Gangly idiot”, while the host was told that he wouldn’t survive gigging in a “Soho comedy club”. This comment being a review of a hypothetical gig which exists nowhere other than in Mr Gordon’s head, and in which Soho appears to have been anointed as the centre-point of the UK comedy circuit. An annoyingly London-centric remark to read in the Edinburgh Evening News.

Then we come to Mr Gordon’s recent review of a night at Highlight Comedy Club. Or should I say reviews. I realise that the EEN can only be held responsible for the comments in their own pages (the ** review) rather than the review of the same night that Mr Gordon wrote for another paper (***) though. Let me take the EEN review at this point. Susan Morrison, one of your own columnists, is subject to what reads as an attack smacking of ageism and sexism in which we are told that a “52 year-old” (I can see no relevance to the inclusion of that beyond ageism) disgusts Mr Gordon by talking about sex. Later, the younger and male Craig Hill is praised for his references to sex. I’m sure you can appreciate how this inconsistency comes across.

Reviewers are, of course, there to give their opinion, but where the paper pays for and publishes that opinion they have a responsibility to ensure there’s a reasonable chance of it being an informed and fair one. A review surely also has to have resonance with the readers, yet Mr Gordon’s opinion of News readers seems pretty low. His Daily Record review writes off the Highlight audience as “mainly drunk, middle-class types” who find the words “f*** and c*** hysterical” and double over with laughter at “racist/xenophobic jokes”. The contempt here is not just for the comedians but also for the audience. I’m sure any “middle-class types” who read the EEN and attend Highlight will be interested by Mr Gordon’s description of them.

Also, can the editorial team explain how someone deemed worthy to review comedy for the Evening News failed to be aware that the Danny Angelo referred to in the review is a character act (portrayed by well-known Scottish comedian Jim Muir aka Reverend Obadiah Steppenwolfe III)? The fact that the “hopelessly out of tune guitar” is intentional renders Mr Gordon’s outrage at it somewhat redundant, and makes his comment that Danny Angelo should maybe “have stuck in at school” more laughable than Mr Gordon found the night to be.

Comedy reviewers form an important part of a healthy comedy scene and a well-informed and well-written review (positive or negative) can be useful for performers and audiences alike. In the early stages of my own career, I benefitted greatly from the well-informed encouragement or constructive criticism of the EEN’s comedy reviewers. The reviews I’ve mentioned in this letter, however, are so flawed and unpleasant (to your readers as well as to comedians and venues) as to carry no credibility. I would request that the EEN ones mentioned be removed from Scotsman.com.”

Here is what they printed:

Comedy reviews are not so funny
I AM writing to complain about recent comedy reviews by Barry Gordon. There have been too many mistakes and too much abuse heaped on to comedians.
The Electric Tales review (News, January 11) at no point gives the most basic information – that it’s a storytelling night, and host Sian Bevan is described as “the self-confessed ‘bonny but glaikit’ Sian Bevan”.
A review at The Stand (News, November 15) described one comedian as a “gangly idiot”.
Then we come to Mr Gordon’s Highlight Comedy Club review (News, January 9). Susan Morrison is subjected to an attack smacking of ageism and sexism in which we are told a “52-year-old” disgusts Mr Gordon by talking about sex.
Later, Craig Hill is praised for his references to sex. I’m sure you can appreciate how this inconsistency comes across.
Ross ‘Teddy’ Craig

Here’s the response:

• Barry Gordon replies: My job is to point out how a production runs, the strong and weak points, weigh up the overall evening and deliver my opinion. To review everything positively does a disservice to both act and audience. If Mr Craig thinks comedians get bad reviews, try being a painter.

———————————————————————————————————-

“Try being a painter”.

So that’s all that cleared up then.

Teddy

I’ve got 20 minutes before I have to go out so I thought I’d cross something else off of today’s ‘to do’ list by banging out a blog. I know, it’s not the way to make you feel special. You want me to take you out for a meal, tell you that you’re looking especially pretty tonight, and suggest that I’ve put together something a little bit special that you may care to read. In fact, I’m effectively presenting you with a literary proposition that’s akin to having my c*ck in one hand and a stopwatch in the other.

Still, let’s proceed.

For those of you enjoying the edge-of-your-seat ‘will he, won’t he’ suspense of finding out whether I got round to starting my tax return today…yes I just have. I’ve been through my gigs and my writing work for 2010-11 and it makes truly depressing reading. Not that there’s ever a good way for filling in a tax return to go for a self-employed person. It’s either “Sh*t…is that all I earned?” (as in this case) or “Wow! That was a good year. Oh hang, on…so I have to pay how much?!”

It’s also been interesting trying to remember the gigs that I’ve just been counting up. No wonder I wanted to open a vein in September of 2010. I’ve just seen a run of three consecutive nights of doom that I had. Granted, the first of them was the highest paid gig I’ve ever had. There must be an artist inside of me as my face was tripping me all the way to the bank.

18 minutes left before I have to leave the flat.

I haven’t got any shoes on so I need to factor in the time for that too. I could just slip on my trainers, that would be quite quick. It’s a bit cold though so I’d probably rather opt for my boots. They take a bit more time to lace up though, and that process is always complicated by the interest of the cat. Her fascination for laces takes the same form as her fascination for headphones. A fascination that involves teeth and claws.

That sounds quite sinister now. The next time I hear someone say something like “I’ve always had a fascination with Paris”, I’ll wait for them to add a strange and noirish “A fascination that involves teeth and claws”.

15 minutes.

I made it to the gym today, still trying to get back into a routine and fight the post-festive season waist and mood issues. It does seem particularly harsh that dark winter nights, the end of the festive season, a havoc-wreaking storm, and tax returns have all been scheduled for the one month. The storm’s aftermath wasn’t as awkward to deal with as I imagined. I was dreading making the call to the insurers, but going against the stereotype they were very straightforward and helpful. I await the inevitable twist that will come from me having said that…

Annoyingly, I haven’t had any dinner (in fact, I haven’t eaten since 11am) which does show that my time management may need to start extending a bit further than writing my list of things to do for the day and crossing them off in a random manner. Or maybe I’m just on such a path to eccentricity that I need to start writing “eat breakfast”, “eat lunch”, and “eat dinner” down. Granted, if we were to take the average of meals eaten this month, I’m still significantly up on the nutritional requirements of someone of my range of movement.

10 minutes.

Right, I feel like I’m cheating you slightly with the length of this blog, but I’ve just realised that I need to go for a pee and put on my jacket as well as putting on my boots. I’m also trying to allow a few minutes of leeway for ‘unforeseen circumstances’. What if I trip over in the hallway? Less likely since yesterday’s tidying, but the newly tidy nature of the flat may prove enough to disorientate and bring about a fall.

It’s good to be prepared.

Hope you’re all well.

Teddy x

I was looking for something to rhyme with ‘kitchen’ for the title of this blog and had a wee flashback to watching Northern Exposure, in which the young woman married to the older bar landlord would often use the term “bitchin’”. Shelly – I’ve just looked up the character name on google. Why was I looking for a term to rhyme with kitchen? Have I installed a new kitchen today? Was I out looking at new kitchens today? No, unlike my mate Allan, I don’t have any plans for that. What I did do was tidy the kitchen, wipe down the worktops, and clean the floor.

Some of you are now saying “But surely that’s a normal run of the mill thing that you’ll be doing on an almost daily basis?”

Meaning that you sound like the missus. At this point I would caution you to stop trying to sound like my missus, as I can only interpret it as some sordid attempt at tricking me into bed with you. Other traps that I am alert to will be any of you saying things like “Can you close the bathroom window, the flat’s freezing”, “Did you clean the bedroom floor or did you just sweep it?”, and “I’m bored of you. You need to understand that what you’re saying just isn’t funny.” While I’ll applaud you for doing your research, I’m afraid that you’ll just have to find some other poor sucker. Or suckee. Who knows what you had planned. You sicken me.

I’ve also changed the bed and swept the floor in there (Yes, just swept it…no, I didn’t actually wipe it…it’s a bedroom floor though, not a kitchen floor. It’s not getting soup spilt on it. Please don’t try to make any smart comments about that – I’m already angry enough about your sordid attempts at mimicking my fiancee’s words as it is.)

Having dealt with the bedroom and the kitchen (and having hung up the now dry washing, put another load on, and now hung it up to dry), I’m taking a short break to share my day with you. I know, I shouldn’t have. But I’m generous that way. Like the people you don’t even know who phone you up to tell you about the great deals that they have on insurance or on phone deals. If they weren’t being generous – they wouldn’t bother letting you know!

I still have the bathroom, the living room, and the hallway to deal with.

Oh, and my tax return.

Remember when you were at school and you’d find any reason not to start your revision? You had to tidy your room or make some food or go and run some kind of errand? It’s amazing how little changes when you get older. Still, I do think that doing my tax return in a tidy flat may take my mind of some of the grimness of actually doing my tax return. If doing my tax return isn’t enough fun, I also get to contact my insurance company, as yesterday I got a letter from the building’s factors saying that the roof was damaged by the storms, they need £71 straight away…and we’ll have to inform the companies our individual buildings insurance policies are with as it’ll cost about two or three grand to fix the roof more permanently (though split 8 ways).

Not an ideal weekend.

I managed to get some writing done this morning. I wrote a bit more for the ‘The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly” section of “Jo Caulfield’s Comedy Collective” show on Wednesday night, some of which will hopefully make it in. I also edited a couple of articles submitted for SCFC, getting them ready to be posted up tomorrow. One will need a bit more tweaking to take into account today’s matches.

The missus won’t be home until after 10pm, so I’ll have to wait until then to have her translate an email from the company I ordered some English-subtitled Czech & Slovak DVDs (Not those kind of DVDs! I’d hardly bother getting English subtitled versions for that, would I? Far better to make up your own script as you go along.) from translated. The DVDs haven’t turned up yet, so I imagine the email relates to their dispatch. As the email doesn’t contain the Slovakian phrases for -

“You have nice t*ts” (Mas pekne prsia)

“What is truth is not sin” (Co je pravda, nie je hriech)

or

“I’m Scottish, I’m not mentally deficient” (Som skot, nie som debil)

…I’m unable to work out quite what it does say.

I’m also pondering what to have for dinner. There are baking potatoes and cheese in…or I have pierogi in the freezer. I’m actually feeling a bit more in the mood for a chicken kebab though. I have a few hours before anybody will be home to judge me for shoving another takeaway into my face, so I may as well make use of that. I’ll need something to sustain me through the attempts at tidying a living room that now effectively belongs to the cat. I realise that having a baby is a great responsibility – but I don’t think there are many babies able to jump onto the mantlepiece to wreak havoc. If they are, then they’re probably of Kryptonian origin. The tales of Superman’s infant tantrums, and the damage they must have caused, are a disappointing omission from the DC comics canon.

Right. I’ve got things to do.

Don’t pull that “Well so do I face”, you’ve just undermined that argument by reading all the way to the end of this.

1-0.

Teddy x