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Tonight was the Chortle awards. RHLSTP was up for the Best Internet Award. I have won this category for the previous three years and it didn't exist before then, so am disappointed it isn't called the Richard Herring Award for not Being Able to Get on the Telly. Could I make it four years in a row? This was the first ceremony I've been able to attend for four years. I have never collected an award on stage before (except when Stew made me pick up his Chortle Award a few years ago). Surely the fact I was here would jinx it for me.
Things look weighted against me as one of the other nominees was Netflix, who have a few more viewers than me and a huge amount of comedy in their collection (including four of my shows). Was I good enough to beat four of myself, plus an army of proper comedians? I was secretly hoping that Stuart Goldsmith's Comedian's Comedian might get the nod. It's pretty much the only podcast that I regularly listen to and it's really good.
The awards were taking place at the Ministry of Sound, much to the consternation of nearly all the uncool comedians that I talked to. None of us had been here before and all of us were surprised by its location in Elephant and Castle. I thought it was in Brixton, Hattie Hayridge thought it was nearer to the Embankment. Never has the place been fuller of nerds. As I arrived I thought I was standing behind some homeless man trying to sneak his way past the person with the guest list, but it was Stewart Lee in his finest clothes. It was a nice coincidence to bump into him and we went in together, him refusing to have his photo taken by the paps, me feeling I then had to as it is my job to do the exact opposite of what he does to keep the double act flame alight. I put my coat in the cloak room, which meant Stew had to keep his jacket with him. It's tough being opposites.
I was presenting an award as well, Offstage Contribution, which was going to Chris Evans (not that one. And obviously not Captain America). I knew Chris would be made up by this acknowledgment of his fine work and had managed to keep the secret from him, but alas he couldn't make it along on the night because his son has broken his ankle. But it was great that his decade's worth of hard work was getting a nod. There was a special VIP area where I was asked to go because of my presenting role, though I really wanted to stay down on the main floor with my friends. As always there was an eclectic mixture of "celebrities" handing out the gongs, including Bobby Davro, Pat Sharp and people from reality shows and soaps who I didn't recognise, but who had the bearing of importance. We were up above the room watching through glass and it was hard to keep up with what was going on. And I didn't know if the award I was up for was going to come before the one I was presenting. Would someone show me where to go if I won it? Was the fact that no one was bothered about that an indication that I hadn't won? I was talking to Marcus Brigstock about his ski-injured leg when I heard that the internet award was up next. So I made my way towards the actual room just in case.
It was all a bit of a blur and happened very fast, but my name was read out. I was a bit surprised by that given I had nearly not been anywhere near the stage ten seconds earlier and I wasn't sure if I was supposed to give a speech or not. So I bumbled on, picked up the lump of perspex, thanked Ben Walker and Chris Evans(not that one) and left. Earlier in the day I had been thinking that if I'd won I would shout "Fuck you Netflix, I am better than you and here's the proof!" But I totally forgot about that. Similarly after giving a brief speech about Chris Evans (not that one, seriously, it's obvious which one I mean, what's wrong with you?) and revealing that he wasn't in the room I had forgotten that I had intended to call up Me2 from the popular snooker based podcast to accept the award on his behalf. But to be honest, I don't think the crowd were really up for any fun. They didn't really seem to be listening to anything. Maybe these awards should not be held in a nightclub.
It was nice to win and get a bit more recognition for the work me and the team have been putting in, though I felt more underwhelmed than I had imagined. Having done so many things that have left award panels unimpressed it would be stupid to get overly excited when I do actually win one. Though I was surprised to discover that winners got a goodie bag which contained a mobile phone (from sponsors Alcatel One Touch - who I assumed had created some revolutionary new toilet paper) and a bottle of sparkling wine that contained real gold flakes. I mean that's just ridiculous. Who wants to drink gold? Also what effect would that have on my weight? Did winning an award mean that I had entered an elite who laughed in the face of poverty by consuming precious metals? It looked like it did because I drank it when I got home. Who could resist the idea of turning themselves into a human snow-globe? Luckily my grandma was no longer around to be attacked by the glitter - though if only she had a grave I would have gone and pissed on it tomorrow, a golden shower of actual gold, in tribute to her magnetism for glitter (if you haven't seen "What Is Love, Anyway? that is going to seem like an odd thing to say - why not watch it on that loser internet channel, Netflix?)
Luckily the decadence was somewhat offset by the fact that the wine was made by Blue Nun. Which is like sprinkling diamonds on to a dog turd. But I still drank the metal and the disgusting wine. My goodie bag also had two copies of Stewart Lee's Alternative Comedy Experience, as if to rub in my face that my internet award was not all that! I think the phone and some of the other stuff will be future prizes for the monthly subscribers prize draws.
Bridget Christie won two of the awards and as she was working (like any decent comedian would be) she sent Michael Legge up to pick up her awards, with a funny speech about how she hated women. But looking at Legge I realised the true dark secret. Bridget Christie is just a nutty feminist character of him in drag, like his hero Mrs Brown (like all men from Ireland he feels more comfortable in women's garb). Thank goodness order is restored and it is proven that men are the funny ones after all. And I admire Legge for being so committed to his role that he was prepared to have children with Stewart Lee. If that's what it takes to be a winner I think I might go back to my ordinary life of owning no copies of the Alternative Comedy Experience and drinking alcohol without flakes of metal in it.
Thanks to everyone who voted for me. Amongst my mixed feelings are being chuffed that you bothered. Who knows where this accolade will lead me. Same time next year?
