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I really hope Alan Cumming shouts his own name at the point of orgasm.
Must be embarrassing enough for him that his name has a very obvious anagram.
Mum gin canal.
This morning I cut my finger trying to open a child-proof battery pack with a cheese knife because the kitchen scissors were in the dishwasher (we have other scissors, but I couldn’t be bothered to go and find them and instead opted to use a not very sharp knife, which still had a surprisingly sharp edge, which I had stupidly assumed was the safe flat back). Has anyone ever had a more middle-class injury?
It turns out they have becauseI tweeted about this and my time line was full of avocado based mishaps for the rest of the day.
A fairly random selection
Sean Hinton - I burnt myself on the steam from a wifi enabled slow cooker that contained a Nigel Slater duck recipie (with whole star anise and peanut oil).
Andy Keen - I once injured my wrist opening a jar of olives for an after-school Classics symposium…
Izzy Mant - Aged 10 I cracked my head open on Christmas day due to descending the stairs in my new tap shoes.
Greg Jenner - Cut myself on the strings of an antique lute
Dave Hughes - Gave myself a paper cut on my national trust handbook.
Dan Bowker - I sliced off a good chunk of my thumb on a mandolin making courgette spaghetti.
You get the idea.
It was a surprisingly popular confessional for the bourgeoisie.
I covered up my surprisingly deep wound with a Peppa Pig plaster. Which is the most middle class plaster. The wound reopened a couple of times. Don’t waste your money on those plasters just for the branding. Sure, you look cool, but the plasters don’t
Do the job.
Staggered a bit further on with script 5 this morning (it’s maybe two or three scenes away from first draft completion) and then we went to meet some friends from the village in the pub. It is both joyful and scary to be getting things back to normal. Great to see the kids causing mayhem and annoying men drinking beer in the beer garden, but the ever present feeling of dread that we are trying to return to normality too soon and just ignoring the current Covid statistics.
My immune system may still be compromised, but if so it’s holding out well. All I know is that my family have all been struggling with a nasty cold (covid tests taken- negative) for the last week or so and whilst I haven’t been firing on all cylinders I have not avoided all the unpleasant symptoms so far. Maybe the chemo actually gave me radioactive super powers and made my immune system impregnable. There may be a new Marvel film playing out in my blood stream. We were mainly outside today, so probably relatively safe, but no one had a mask and we were all licking each other's faces, so I guess we're screwed.
