Love Also Is...

Something my fellow comic geeks may appreciate: The Book of Life by Jon Lock.

This was a lovely, limited-edition, good-luck-in-your-new-job, hardcover graphic novel present from the Missus. 

I'm very happy! And slightly suspicious...

Love Is...

A friend of the Missus recently posted something on Facebook about what most women want from a partner... and it essentially boiled down to a bloke who could protect them and also make them laugh.

The conclusion of this musing by the friend of the Missus was that most women essentially want a 'Ninja clown'. The Missus contacted her friend and commented that was essentially what she'd ended up with.

Sadly, I fear the focus of her analysis was more on the 'clown' aspect that the 'ninja' one. But when compliments are in short supply, I'll take anything going...

Reference: Carl of H&M Building Services, Guildford...

We recently hired Carl of H&M Building Services, Guildford, to rebuild a wall in our garden that had been knocked down by a storm.

We contacted him after getting a flier through our door, which claimed he had recently been made redundant and was looking to establish his own business.

We’d discussed the work with two other builders, one of who is an old friend who’s worked for us before. Sadly, he couldn’t do this job as he was to busy. Both other builders, however, told us this was a three-day job, maybe five days at most if we wanted to re-use and clean up bricks from the original wall.

So we employed Carl of H&M Building Services, Guildford, and the job took more than five weeks. The work would be started, then Carl and his colleague would disappear for long periods of time and wouldn’t be in contact, despite us leaving messages asking him what was going on.

On one memorable morning, after we’d expressed our concern that the job was taking much longer than we had expected, Carl arrived, worked for 20 minutes, then went missing for the next five days. Our phone calls went unanswered and all attempts to contact him were ignored. When he did get in touch, it was to explain that he’d had to leave urgently to attend to his other job as a contractor at a school – a job that we were not aware of and did not know would take preference over ours.

He assured us he’d be there bright and early the next day but when that came, of course, he was nowhere to been seen. Once again, days went past without him getting in touch, then we got an email in the early hours of Sunday morning saying he’d been in hospital.

Which was strange, as he seemed to be in rude health when I spotted him coming out of the Wetherspoons pub a few days before at about 11pm.

His non-attendance and reluctance to finish the work was a regular pattern, and for weeks we were left with a half-finished wall and little or no contact from him. Eventually, after more than five weeks and continued requests from us, the wall was finished. To be fair, the standard of the building work was acceptable.

What wasn’t acceptable, however, was the fact that the discarded rubble was never removed at the end of the job, as originally agreed, and, more importantly, the building supplies that were put in the school carpark at the back of our house were also not removed, as originally agreed.

So, if you’re thinking of hiring a builder in the Guildford/Woking area, my advice would be to use anyone else but Carl of H&M Building Services.

He’s unreliable, he offers excuse after excuse instead of completing work to agreed schedules, and he refuses to even have the decency to let you know when he’ll be working and when he’ll be finishing the work you’ve hired him to do.

Morally Decent Coffee...

Myself and the Missus have previously refused to support places or businesses we think are morally objectionable. It's probably a piss against a thunder storm, but we decided long ago that the only real power we have as consumers is to decide where our money gets spent.

So we refused to buy anything connected with the morally contemptible Murdoch empire a good 15 years ago and have kept that household veto going since then. More recently, tax avoiders Starbucks was added to the list in favour of Cafe Nero. But now it turns out that Cafe Nero are also major league tax avoiders so they're now added to the list. I'm also trying to wean myself off Amazon, too.

But this obviously does leave us with a problem because I now don't know where to buy a cup of coffee from somewhere that isn't part of some tax-avoiding multi-national. I think Costa may be OK but I obviously need to investigate.

Any help would be much appreciated...

Lexicon News...

Three new words that I am claiming to have invented.

Ninjury: (Noun) An injury sustained through martial arts training.
EG. 'I sprained my hamstring doing high jump front kicks today. It's a really annoying ninjury!'

Thickle: (Adjective) A compression of the words 'thick' and 'fickle' to describe someone that possesses both qualities.

EG. 'UKIP's election success proves how thickle the British public can be.'

Twattoo: (Noun) A tattoo that the wearer thinks makes him or her look uber-cool, but in reality makes them look even more of a twat.

EG. 'That's an awful twattoo the idiot over there is sporting.'

John & Jen: Part II...

The new theatre company I'm working with, Guildford Fringe Theatre Company, staged its first show of an ambitious year, which will feature a month-long Fringe Festival and another three productions. 

The play was a two-handed musical, John & Jen, and it was excellent. I appreciate I have a vested interest in this company and its shows, but it just blew me away. 

Directed by a first-time director, the show starred two seasoned West End performers, who told the story of a brother and sister in the first act, then the sister and her son in the second. 

I wasn't at all familiar with the piece beforehand as musicals aren't really my thing, but it was essentially an opera rather than a musical as the story was told almost exclusively in song. The libretto was very tight and kept the narrative drive moving, while the score helped drive the narrative pace while also allowing the piece the room to breath when it hit an emotional or contemplative moment. 

I've been feeling my way back into theatre stuff for a while now and I'm getting the urge to do a proper show again. The good thing about seeing this and being involved at a distance are that it's allowed me to build back up to doing something at my own pace but also given me a benchmark to hit. 

And I think I'm about ready to see if I can hit that benchmark. Exciting time ahead!

Record Breaker...

The Missus is always terrified I will find a new interest. She calls me a serial hobbyist and I can sort of see her point: Hapkido, BJJ, pool, playwright, theatre company producer and director, comics, etc, etc. 

While I argue that a few of the things on that list, such as the theatre stuff and the playwrighting, are not hobbies but investments in potential future income streams, she doesn't tend to complain about the amount of martial arts training I do. Or the fact that my retirement from competitive pool lasted less than eight months.

But a new interest is on the horizon after some friends bought me a record player for my birthday. It's a beautiful thing and there was a massive wave of nostalgia when I put the first disc on the turntable. 

So vinyl-buying obsession here we come, I reckon. Anyone got any Sisters of Mercy 12 inchers?

Frank Skinner: Man in a Suit...

I've always liked Frank Skinner. His quick-witted, easy-going blokiness was always something I always felt comfortable with. He liked football, women, seemed non-threatening, had a great line in smut and innuendo, and always seemed pretty self-deprecating and self-aware. What's not to like? 

So when the Missus bought me tickets to see his new live show, Man in a Suit, I was pretty excited. This was the first time he'd toured in seven years so my expectation level was pretty high. 

And Skinner's 90-minute set was perfectly good. It covered stories about his relationship with his girlfriend, stories from his days of 'playing the field', and musings on various other topics, including the trial of Max Clifford and even a few lines on the current state of British comedy. 

And, much as I constantly laughed and there were plenty of good lines included, it just didn't feel like a complete piece. It felt like lots of little 10-minute routines pieced together, a sort of comedy memoir with some topical bits thrown in. 

Skinner the performer was excellent and it's impossible not to warm to him because he is funny, engaging and very skilled. But the material didn't feel as good as the man doing it and whole package wasn't quite as good as I was hoping.

Maybe my expectations were too high, or maybe telly fame has slightly dulled his edge when it comes to polishing his stand-up material. Who knows? The truth probably lies somewhere in-between...

Write One...

I've been running a group for local scriptwriters in my new home town of Guildford for about 14 months now, and we had our second staged reading of two 50-minute scripts from the group a few weeks ago.

The idea of the group is that it's a chance for local scriptwriters to sit down and discuss and critique each other's work in an informal setting. Then, if we get a script we really like, we cast it and give it a rehearsed reading in front of an audience to give it a test-run.

It's a great process for writers to sit in rehearsals and see how their words on the page become a living and moving thing, and it's even better when it then becomes an event with an audience as the writers can hear what works, see what needs trimming and get all other sorts of feedback on their work.

It's a good and talented bunch of people in the group and it's helping me up my game on the writing front, too, because I get feedback on stuff I've written and I get ideas of where a thing can go next.

We're doing decent work already here. And together we'll all do even better work.

John & Jen: Part I...

Just in case you didn’t know… I'm back involved with a new theatre company in Guildford, namely Guildford Fringe Theatre Company. I'm onboard as an associate producer and director and we've got some very cool stuff coming up this year.

Our first show is the musical, John & Jen, which is on at the Star Inn at the bottom of Guildford High Street. It starts Thursday 8 May and runs until Saturday 17 May 2014.

It's a cracking show and there’s additional information below if you fancy an evening out:

John & Jen, the acclaimed and moving American musical, will be Guildford Fringe Theatre Company’s first show of 2014.

John & Jen is a two-hander set in the USA and follows the funny, tender and moving relationship between a brother and a sister, and a mother and a son.

Written by Andrew Lippa and Tom Greenwald, the show opened Off-Broadway in 1995 to rave reviews, and this staging, from 7-17 May at The Back Room of The Star Inn, will offer a rare chance to see this little-performed modern classic.

And, in something of a coup for local drama, two acclaimed actors are joining Guildford Fringe Theatre Company to take on the title roles.


John is being played by Martin Neely, whose previous work has included Les Miserables (West End) and Mary Poppins (UK Tour), while Jessica Sherman, whose previous work includes Lend Me A Tenor (Vienna) and Batman Live (World Arena Tour), will play the role of Jen.

The show runs from 7-17 May 2014 at The Back Room of The Star Inn, Quarry Street, Guildford, GU1 3TY. Tickets are available by phone on 0844 8700 887 or from the Tourist Information Centre, High Street Guildford.

So, if you’re kicking your heels and you fancy a night out, give us a try.

Marital advice...

It's not very sexy for a married man to come home after a full day's drinking with a kebab, then to climb into the marital bed reeking of lager and smelling of the aforementioned kebab. Apparently...

Why David Cameron is an Awful Man...

This is a dream from last night: In it, I have a missing cat. And, as many of my friends know, I love my cat more than I love most people.

But I am fortunate because Prime Minister David Cameron, who has lost one of his offspring after leaving them in a pub, kindly mentions my missing cat in his press statement asking for the return of his missing child.

The Cameron child is returned and there is much relief. Then my cat is returned... But Prime Minister David Cameron realises my cat is beautiful and decides to keep it for himself. And there is nothing I can do.

This is one additional reason to despise David Cameron and everything he stands for... because even in a bizarre dream he just doesn't care. He simply takes. Because he can.

Sticking Point: Part III...

My tahn bong training continues at hapkido and today I learnt the first blocking moves. Then my teacher picked up her bamboo sword and told me block her strikes.

I utterly trust my teacher and I know she has absolute control over what she's doing with a sword, but it was still a really bizarre moment to see a big bamboo sword coming at you.

The tahn bong blocks, like the tahn bong strikes, are multi-directional and seem to be an extension of how you'd normally block with your hands. And, like blocks with your hands, you need to have the confidence to let the strikes come to you before you parry them at the last second.

This is new and difficult stuff for me and it has the requirements of time and patience written al over it. But like anything else I've done to a decent level, I'll simply stick at it and at some point will improve. I just need to make sure I put the hours in...

Love and Understanding...

It's been a rough week for all manner of reasons. But The Missus has a solution... 

'Go hit the punchbag. Or do some martial arts stuff. You'll feel better. You're always better once you've hit things, or done some martial arts stuff...'

On such understanding a great love is built.

The Full Batman...

The Missus once did a Q&A test on me to see if I was borderline OCD. And, apparently, there is no 'borderline' about it. I am so far entrenched in the land of OCD that it would take the medical equivalent of a SAS strike force to rescue me and return me to any lands resembling normality.

In an attempt to break my obsessive habits of order and neatness and always double- or even triple-checking anything, from whether I've locked doors behind me or saved work on back-up drives and back-ups of back-up drives, the Missus bought me socks with the names of days of the weeks on them for Xmas.

At first, I genuinely found it quite hard to not wear the correct socks on the correct day. But I've been slowly weaning myself away from this habit, and now I no longer return home when I realise I'm wearing the wrong socks on the wrong day.

At this point, I should explain that I know this behaviour is utterly insane. And it drives the Missus completely crazy. On the plus side, it does mean our house is incredibly tidy.

A few weeks ago, however, I was getting changed after a martial arts class and congratulating myself on breaking the sock-day pattern compulsion. I was even thinking that I may be getting control of some of my more obsessive patterns of behaviour.

Then I caught sight of myself in a mirror: Batman socks, Batman boxer shorts and Batman t-shirt. I like to think this synchronisation of apparel happened by accident. But I fear it didn't. I'm only relieved I don't have a cape. The fight continues...

The Krankies...

It is 4am in the morning at From Beer to Paternity Towers. The Missus has woken up, put her dressing gown on and gone to the loo. I am likewise awake and I go to the loo as well. 

But we have an actress guest staying at the moment so I have to 'cover up' and not wander around the house half-naked. This, sadly, also means that I cannot do my favourite joke for at least a week. This involves the Missus waiting for me to join her if we're going out somewhere and me appearing naked, uttering the words: 'Right. I'm ready to go!' 

Apparently, after 17 years together, this is no longer funny.

So I dress and head to the downstairs loo and eventually make my way back up to the bedroom to undress before climbing into bed. 
'Where have you been?' says a sleepy but curious Missus. 
'The toilet,' I reply. 
'But you went downstairs. Why did you go downstairs?' 

The real reason I went downstairs is because I was very farty and I didn't want to potentially wake the actress with loud farts at 4am in the morning. But I didn't tell the Missus this. 
'What are you? The Wee Police?' I ask defensively.
'I just thought it was odd,' says the Missus, dropping back to sleep. 

I lie awake for a few minutes then prod the Missus. 
'Who'd be the boss of the Wee Police?' I ask. 
'I don't know,' growls an exasperated Missus, wanting to get back to sleep. 
'Chief Inspector "Wee" Jimmy Krankie,' I answer. 

There is a pained sigh. 
'You've brought images of the Krankies into our bed,' says the Missus.
'If we're renting rooms to actors, then it may only be a matter of time before they're here in the flesh,' I add.
'Go to sleep or I'm leaving you…'

I wanted to say 'Fan-dabby-dozy'. But I didn't. I don't think she'd leave. But you never know...

Stewart Lee's Comedy Vehicle...

Hurray! Stewart Lee's back with series three of his award-winning Stewart Lee's Comedy Vehicle.

For my money, Lee's the best comedian in the business and, as an added bonus, this series also sees Brass Eye creator Chris Morris take over the Armando Ianucci role for the interview segments between the stand-up routines.

The opening show is fabulously funny, while the second sticks the boot into UKIP. It's brilliant. Watch. Enjoy. Daily Mail readers need not apply. You cunts...

Old...

I'm desperately trying to train at least three times a week at the moment and I'm also working hard, both in the office and on several other personal projects.

I'm consequently exhausted. I'm so exhausted I was in the shower this morning and I let out a fart, and a little bit of wee also came out. I genuinely couldn't control it. 

Maybe this is how 'getting old' feels. Or maybe this is how it starts... 

Valentine's Day...

I really got into the Valentine's Day spirit today by making a Rose for a colleague at work...

Other Woman News…

The Other Woman’s Father has remained a constant source of amazement and exasperation in equal measure to the Other Woman, the Other Woman’s Long-suffering Boyfriend and the Other Woman’s family for many years.

Diagnosed with Parkinson’s several years ago, the medication for his condition has prompted spells of fascination with internet pornography, impulse purchasing of both a pool table and a bar billiards table, and a fascination and subsequent ownership of the type of fireworks reserved for use by civic authorities, which usually require a specialist from Nasa to launch them.

His recent foray to watch an Olympics football match in his wheelchair, and his subsequent belief that he no longer needed a wheelchair during a lucid moment, almost saw the Other Woman and her family lynched by supporters who suspected he was lying about his disabled status in order to secure front-row tickets at Wembley.

In many respects, he’s remained something of an underground hero to me, deciding to carry on as normal wherever possible and not accepting there are certain things a seriously ill man should not do.

Recently, his health has taken a turn for the worse and, now in a minimally conscious state, it’s a matter of when rather than if he finally says goodbye. It’s tough for the Other Woman but she remains amazingly level-headed and stoical about it all.

We were discussing a suitable tribute/epitaph and decided a large-scale display involving a naked woman made out of fireworks with Catherine wheels for nipple tassles was one possibility.

‘Large-scale fireworks, a bit of smut and spunking a huge amount of money on something totally pointless but also quite touching,’ I suggested.

‘It’s what he would have wanted,’ agreed the Other Woman.