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Two and a half days at home before I return to being a TV star. I tried acting like a TV star at home, but no one would bring me snacks and when I waited for a car to come and pick me up, no car came. I had to drive myself around. I didn't even get per diems. I had to pay for all my own food. I can't wait til Sunday when I can get in the first class lounge again and everyone has to pretend not to have disdain for me. If I ask my family to buy me cherries because I don't want to eat unhealthy snacks they would laugh in my face and carry on playing 99 Nights in the Forest. If I ask the people on the TV show to do it, then there's an 80% chance there will be cherries there on Monday.
It's a pretty full on commitment throughout November, so these days at home are precious, no matter how much everyone resents me.
I spent most of my day off drawing cocks on postcards to send out to Kickstarter backers. Luckily the kids were at school so didn't witness this. Is this how daddy makes a living?
Sadly no. This is how daddy pays the expenses of filming a stand up tour. He is 58 years old. Drawing hundreds of cocks on cards that show pictures of me does seem to be a punishment for a life time of mining puerility for laughs. It's funnier from the outside that I am this old and still doing this, but from the inside it's a sad indictment of where my life has ended up!
The only consolation, I suppose, is that I am not as sad as the people who paid to get one of these!
I thought I might have completed my contractual obligation, but Chris Evans (not that one) informs me I have another bag of hands to sign, plus some video messages to record and (when they're ready) some DVD covers to sign and number. We're doing our best to get this delivered to you by the end of November, but if not, hopefully before Christmas. It's a huge enterprise and I appreciate your patience almost as much as I appreciate your financial support. Chris really makes some beautiful stuff for these kickstarters. It's why this is not a living. But you know, producing something beautiful (and also some postcards with horrible cartoon cocks on them) is more important than making money.
A trillion dollars will, apparently (according to @
naffnaffbobface.bsky.social) buy every one of the 8 billion human being on earth 25 Macdonalds $5 meal deals, each. Which means that it would only take a month to turn a trillion dollars to shit.
A postcard with a one-balled knob drawn on it will last forever. Or until your mum/partner (as unlikely as the second option seems) throws it in the bin.
Even though I am getting pretty fit (I squeezed in a game of tennis at 8am today, even though I didn't get home til 8.30pm and stayed up late watching Traitors) I was not in a position to carry the box of flyers and a big box of signed books up the hill to the Post Office. I drove there and had to park round the corner and it was quite a work out getting them into the shop. The things I do for you. But only because you do so much for me.
Complaining about your cushy fucking life is very much what you have to do when you're on TV.
The man in the Post Office asked what I was sending out and unusually I ended up telling him I was a comedian and that I had a podcast and he looked me up. This is one way to try and get the downloads up.
Does this guy not know who I am? I am on the new series of.... oooh, you nearly got me.
