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I woke up this morning and accidentally managed to fart a rhythmically, musically and phonetically exact recreation of the opening of the fireman's role-call from Trumpton. Admittedly that was only as far as Pugh, Pugh and I couldn't quite manage the Barney McGrew (though might at least have got a balloon deflating bbbbb out if I had tried), but that's still a good start. If I can manage to teach my anus to enunciate the rest then maybe I actually will return to Edinburgh next year with my new petoman show, Trumping Trumpton. If I can make the first two farts real stinkers then I might actually be able to create an echo effect where the audience say “Pew†after I've said “Pughâ€. A couple of people on Twitter pointed out I should get Windy Miller involved. I told you I was back in the game!
The worst thing was that my sleeping wife missed the whole thing. She is lucky to have married someone with such a marketable skill.
I went to the hairdressers and the dentist today and cursed the fact I lived in the modern world. If it was the olden days I could have made both these stops in the same shop and then been made into a meat pie afterwards, but thanks to political correctness gone mad my hairdresser and dentist were two different people. And one of them was a woman! What next?
Having spotted the pattern of Spurs always winning 2-1 after going one goal behind I (and quite a few others) decided to put my money where my mouth is and put £10 on that scoreline. I'd be going home with £230 which I would then put on the next match and so on, until I had more money than I could ever spend. I'd never have to work again. But I want to work again. At least it would give me the freedom to work on Trumping Trumpton.
I was delighted when Chelsea went one up, the proof that the prophecy would be fulfilled, but as I struggled to put another tenner on the final scoreline at what would be vastly improved odds the unbelievable news came through that Sugar has fixed the glitch in the Matrix. Chelsea scored. Maybe an algorithm had been added that would simply double to score. Should I go for 2-4 as a final scoreline? Incredibly the final score was 3-0 to Chelsea, if we can believe the news outlets (and why should we? the entire universe is just a construct inside an Amstrad emailer phone). Interesting Sugar could only change so much. Three goals were still scored. I bet that if you watch the footage you will see those white shirts have been altered to blue in post production. I know what the real score was. And I am going to turn up at the betting shop and demand my money.
I still got the first goal and the number of goals right in any case, so my powers are still pretty impressive.
And to those of you who followed my advice and put your house on the result. Bad luck and sorry. I feel partly responsible. We should have learned that you can't take on the Sugar Matrix. But it is fragile as a sugar Matrix. We can take this thing down and be free again to have actual correct football results.
Tonight my wife and I went to our first NCT class, to prepare of for birth and beyond and meet other clumsy people in the Shepherd's Bush area who had been unfortunate enough to get pregnant. I could only stay for the first half an hour as I had a gig to do, but I see that as very much representative of my part in our child's life. I was glad to see that the other dads were just as clueless and in a daze about the whole thing as I was. Though at least they stayed for the entire class. I am sure I can catch up on the coursework in time for the final exams in February.
A slightly tougher gig tonight as I felt a little bit tired, but I pushed on through and we made it to the spectacular denouement in one piece. Three more nights in London this year. Would love to see you in the audience if you can make it. I reckon you will like it.
After the show I was given this rather lovely Real Rod Hull knitted doll complete with floppy right arm, made by a very talented young man who had not been aware that the show would have quite a lot of material about knitting and knitted dolls. We've been given some cool Lee and Herring stuff by fans over the years, but I think this might be my favourite item. I didn't catch the guy's name, but he clearly does this professionally. I am hoping this will become my child's favourite toy. How bizarre would that be? But how cool.
Free audio of RHLSTP with Josh Widdicombe (and an amazing accidental recreation of the Blair Christmas card in the photo) now available on the
British Comedy Guide 
