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I am sort of amazed (and sort of not) that the Russians murdered a UK citizen in the UK and there’s no real repercussions beyond us all finding the murderers’ lies about it a bit amusing.
Similarly some assassins chop up a man with a bone saw whilst he’s still alive and we get cartoonish footage of their bungled attempts to make it look like he left the building (with more hair than he went in with). I wonder if this bungling is somehow a deliberate attempt to accept responsibility or just say, “We don’t give a fuck who knows what we’re capable of -that’s the point of doing it.â€
But looks like there may be repercussions to this new case for Saudi Arabia. How have Russia got away with killing a UK citizen on UK soil?
I lost my wife to podcasting again this week, which meant an afternoon and evening of coping with the kids and the dog on my own. It’s getting easier, I have to say. Last year the dog was the final straw, arriving in our half-completed house at more or less the same time as our son. But she’s a bit better trained and a lot less rambunctious now and I have slipped into the routine of doing the morning and evening walk without it feeling too much of an effort. Tonight, working alone, I had to do the walk early with Ernie in the sling and Phoebe running around and wanting to jump in the stream. I was hungover and already tired out. But we made it home and nobody died or got electrocuted by a fence or went in the stream. I think I’d put the sling on wrong, but readjusted it halfway through.
And I like hanging around with this little gang of dependent idiots who didn’t exist five years ago, but are now the centre of my universe. As always it’s a highly enjoyable visit to Hell. And thank God I am here.
They are killing me and saving me simultaneously. And my daughter is an attention seeking little idiot.
Yesterday she had very slightly cut her knee, just enough to warrant a plaster. She was theatrically limping around the bathroom. “Come on Phoebe, there’s no need to hobble,†said her mum.
Phoebe decided to be offended by this suggestion, “That is very rude mummy,†she declared.
“Why is that rude?â€
“Hobble means zebra poo.â€
Genius. Comedy is safe in the hands of the next generation. If they survive Brexit and global warming.
Which they probably won’t.
The Oh Frig I’m 50 DVDs have arrived! On the day that John Lewis stopped selling DVD players. But we anticipated this, which is why we have made it a strictly limited edition - most of which will be going to the Kickstarter backers, but a few will be available at gofasterstripe and at gigs. Obviously you will be able to buy the show as a download, but the DVD is a four disc set with loads of extras (including my snooker tournament art event that I took part in which has never been seen before and has a very exciting result), made up of both Oh Frig I’m 50 and Oh Fuck I’m 40. I suspect this might be my last ever DVD, but we will see. There’s a chance it may be my last stand up show.
I spent a lot of time today, opening up 150 of these DVDs (all individually wrapped in cellophane and removing the sleeve so I could sign and number them. 200 of the 1000 will have this addition to make them more of a collectors item - 50 will be available at gofasterstripe and a few of the juicier numbers will go on sale on eBay.
They look lovely. Well done to Chris Evans (not that one) for making this happen and thanks to the kickstarter backers for allowing us to make it.
And very pleased to reveal that I am curating a weekend at the Bristol Slapstick Festival and chatting with the Goodies, Tim Vine and some of the team behind the Inbetweeners, amongst other things in January. It should be a lot of fun.
Come along if you can.
