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Monday 16th March 2015

4491/17410
The Chortle Awards tonight and I was once again nominated for best Internet show. I have won this award with one of my podcasts for each of the four years it has been in existence and I was mainly hoping that I wouldn’t win again. There’s a lot of great stuff on the internet and if anything me winning every year just makes it seem like there isn’t any choice. Which there really is. I was hoping Stuart Goldsmith would be recognised for his excellent Comedian’s Comedian podcast. I had voted for him. As it turned out the gong went to the QI “No Such Thing As A Fish” podcast , and that’s also great. My reign of terror is over. It would have been churlish to be disappointed. And weirdly I was only disappointed on Goldsmith’s account. Maybe I am getting more mature.
And we had great fun at the ceremony, our second night out in a week. Sue Pollard was on especially good form as she presented an award, pretending to flirt with Clive Anderson and then saying, “I suppose a fuck is out of the question”. She made comments that would have been offensive from someone else, but coming from the scatterbrained Hi-di-Hi star were just hilarious.On the night she was the funniest person in the room. Which is saying something when you think about it. Also she bothered to dress up. What a woman.
I met Terry Jones in the bar and told him that I had met him once before, when I was 18, during my year off, I was having a day off from the archaeological dig I was on and had gone to Oxford to have a look around at the University I’d be going to a year later. I passed a book shop and saw that Terry Jones was signing his latest book there. As a massive Monty Python fan I was overcome with excitement and went to queue to meet him. I don’t think I bought his book (I don’t think I could have afforded it as I was only earning £30 a week), but I no doubt went red and told him what a massive fan I was of his work and that I had used his book about Chaucer’s Knight’s Tale during my recent A Level English exam. He joked that he hoped that quoting him hadn’t caused me to fail. I was a shaking and blubbering fanboy but I don’t think I overstayed my welcome.
Python was just a huge deal to me. I hadn’t really liked music in the way that most teenagers do, finding most pop music shallow and pointless, but comedy was everything and Python were my rock and roll heroes. I’d come to them almost entirely via their records that I listened to until I knew every word and sound by heart, but then carried on listening to them (joining in like it was a comedy karaoke). Unlike with John Hannah, my commitment to learning these sketches did not lead to me getting off with Gwyneth Paltrow. If anything my love of Monty Python seemed to put girls off spending any time with me. But this was my comedy education with Python, Rik Mayall and Pete and Dud being my professors.
I was asked to present Jones with the award for best live event for Monty Python’s live show, which I felt honoured to do, even though I as only doing it because Omid Djalili hadn’t shown up. Perhaps if I had had more time I might have composed something that expressed my debt and admiration adequately, but whatever, it was a cool thing to be able to shake the hand of one of the men who had set me on the course that my life would take and give him a piece of perspex as a reward.
Great to see the fantastic Bridget Christie winning two awards. I’ve been a huge fan of hers ever since I was her dressed up as the Great Fire of London about ten years ago, and she seems enjoyably bewildered by the wild success that has rightfully become hers after a decade of hard work. Maybe she drowns kittens in her spare time, (and read this entry to see what a great judge of character I am) but it’s great to see someone who is both talented and pleasant (rare combination) making it in this cut-throat business. Her and Reece Shearsmith (who won for Number 9) were both sweetly disbelieving of their success afterwards. And another of my favourites, RHLSTP guest and car crash survivor James Acaster was another double winner (though even though he was the breakthrough act, the person giving him his award didn’t know how to pronounce his name which rather suggested that he hadn’t broken through so much). The readers of Chortle have excellent taste. But hold on, I didn’t win…. oh…. oh thanks a fucking lot you pricks.
It’s nice to win, but it’s OK to lose. There are more important things (even though the me of 8 years ago was hurt and bitter about being overlooked year after year). I enjoyed the night out with my wife, but was also delighted to get home and see my sleeping daughter. Who I wouldn’t swap for less than 7 awards.



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