Posts

Showing posts from September, 2017

Strictly Come Tweeting 2017: Week Three (30.09.17)

It's fair to say tonight’s Strictly further cemented my love of Debbie McGee. Not only is she genuinely lovely (as I can vouch from her visit to Mostly Comedy with her late husband Paul Daniels a few years back) she’s also a brilliant performer, with so much energy, ability and sparkle. It helped that she was dancing to one of my favourite Billy Joel songs, She's Always a Woman, and the routine matched the beauty of the song perfectly, but then it’s not as if she needs the assistance; I hope she remains in the competition for a good few weeks to come so we can enjoy more of her versatility. Outside of Debbie’s dance, I didn’t really feel tonight’s show so much, though it’s fair to say Alexandra Burke knocked her routine out of the metaphorical park. I also liked Jonnie Peacock’s dance to Johnny B Goode, though I only just noticed the reason for the song choice; I’m a little slow at times...unlike him. See below for tonight’s tweets:

I Saw the Sign.

Image
Today's most exciting event was the hanging of a Mostly Comedy banner in Hitchin Market Place. Where's Wallys? I should probably scale that statement down by clarifying it was the most exciting event of today for me ; I’m sure there were bigger and better things happening somewhere on the planet that were of more significance to humanity than displaying a tarpaulin sign with my face on it, but between that, booking an appointment to get my ears syringed and paying £40 into the bank, it was definitely my personal highlight. Another thing it’s worth making clear is I didn’t put it up myself, and nor did Glyn. We enlisted the kindly (and more manly) men from Hitchin Fire and Rescue Service as we knew they’d be more adept than us up a rickety ladder, plus it was an excuse to see a fire engine. Our last attempt at sign hanging was a case in point. Personally, I was blissfully absent, but Glyn and a friend put it up using a ladder that

Personal Treasure Hunt.

Another day passes and I still haven’t found my wedding ring. I’m trying to make my search as methodical as possible and yet it still hasn’t turned up. Today’s mission was to pull out the upright piano that's in my living room to see if it was underneath it. I hadn’t prepared myself for how hard it would be to move on my own; I’ve pushed many an upright about in classrooms in my off/on sideline as a singing teacher, but in most instances they (a) weren’t sitting on carpet and (b) had probably been moved sometime in the last ten years; mine hasn’t been shifted for so long the casters have seized up, which could have led to my back seizing up too if I hadn’t been careful; my cat watched me silently from her favourite chair throughout, probably thinking, ‘What the hell's the bigger of my two live-in slaves doing now?’ It’s so frustrating that I can’t find it, when it has to be here somewhere. There are only so many places jewellery can hide in

The Ring Finger Blues.

The last few days have been completely overshadowed by losing my wedding ring. It’s strange how used to wearing it I’ve become and how weird I feel without it. My hands feel strangely naked (which is also the name of a magazine I subscribe to) as I type this. My anxiety hasn’t abated since I first noticed it was missing on Friday morning, and what makes it worse is I’m constantly reminded I haven't got it every time I pick something up, like a glass, or a mug, or my phone, or a guinea pig; I hadn’t realised how much it was in my awareness on a day-to-day basis; without it, I’m a gibbering jewellery-less wreck. My one reassurance is the fact I’m 99.9% sure I took it off at home. I know I was wearing it at last Thursday’s Mostly Comedy as I would have felt hugely self-conscious without it. I seldom remove it in public and only briefly; usually to put some hand cream on or to engage in an extra-marital affair (with a guinea pig owner; see above).

GBBO Week Five: (26.09.17)

Tonight’s Bake Off was pudding week, which to be fair is every week in my house. As ever, there were some impressive sweet treats to behold, though none were as striking as Steven’s terrine recreation of the American flag, which was nothing if not topical (see below for my intention). Sadly, it didn’t fair so well on the taste front, but looks-wise it was pretty damn extraordinary; I’d eat it if it weren’t disrespectful. See the following for my Twitter ramblings on the subject from tonight. 8:03PM: The last time I got "steamy with a school pudding", I wound up on a register. 8:04PM: Clearly, none of the bakers went to a school like mine. 8:06PM: Someone should make a Joan Bakewell pudding. 8:10PM: "Well, steam my puddings..." and other such panto-dame sayings. 8:11PM: You could lamp someone with Sandi's steamed suet pudding. 8:19PM: To fit in with the school pudding theme, Prue's jewellery was made from an a

'University Challenged 2017/18: Volume Ten (25.09.17)'

Image
Tonight’s University Challenge was a little dull really, in so much as there weren’t any riduclously flamboyant personalities to keep a handle on. Ultimately I think we’re sill in the wake of Monkman, in that we’ve yet to have anyone come close to his legendary, slightly unhinged way. The nature of the show is that there we’re always be a few desperately unconventional people to look forward to in the coming weeks, but they weren’t there tonight; I think I’ll write a letter of complaint to my local MP. Here are tonight’s Twitter shenanigans: Imperial Vs. Strathclyde 8:02PM: Rubio Gorrochategui used up nearly every letter. 8:03PM: You're a Dijkman. 8:05PM: I liked listening to CDs on my Dijkman on long journeys in mid-Nineties. 8:06PM: I contracted Rubio Gorrochategui once. Nearly killed me. 8:08PM: If I ever marry again, I plan to use a disdainful Paxman "No" when exchanging vows. 8:10PM: Imperial Waddingham is the Imperial

"Eyes Down For a Full Ha-Ha-Ha-House."

Tonight I was lucky enough to attend another recording of the Radio 4 series 'The Missing Hancocks', thanks to the generosity of the splendid Kevin Eldon, who snuck me and my wife in under his metaphorical jacket once again. I've mentioned here before just how impressed I've been by the series, which manages to capture the tone of the show perfectly, with scary accuracy; even the banter between the cast as they made the odd slip-up during the recording felt much like how you'd imagine Tony, Bill and Sid would respond if they had made the same mistakes first time around. It has just the right amount of fun to it, and the combination of the excellent writing and Kevin McNally's spot-on rendition of The Lad Himself still manages to entertain a live audience despite last being performed sixty-three years ago; proof that good comedy doesn't date.  They were recording two lost Christmas episodes tonight, which were both a lot

Strictly Come Tweeting 2017: Week Two (23.09.17)

Last night saw this year’s Team Strictly’s first routines of the series, and while there was no audience vote and therefore no threat of losing a couple, it still gave a reasonable idea of where things may go. The obvious stand-out of the show was Debbie McGee, whose Paso was stupidly good for her first dance, not to mention for someone of her age (let’s be clear: of any age). The judges were unanimous in their praise, which was only right, putting her at the top of the first leader-board - until JLS’s Aston Merrygold closed the show with a foxtrot which left them salivating, but didn’t really do it for me (though I liked Janette’s outfit).  But don’t let me being quoted in last night's Telegraph write-up fool you: despite five years' performance training, I know nothing about dance. See below for my tweets on the show (because they need to be preserved for future generations): 6:28PM: Ah, the speeding-up, on-beat clapping; got to be the #Strictly

Isolation.

Tonight’s Mostly Comedy was stupidly good - insanely stupidly good - but at the same time it was a little terrifying, as I spent the whole show in a metaphorical vacuum, barely able to hear a thing. I should explain: for the last week or so, my right ear has been purely ornamental, due to a mix of a low-level infection and an unnecessarily large wax quota. This actually started when I was in Edinburgh, when every so often I’d feel like I was in an aeroplane waiting for my ear to pop; usually it would clear eventually; that was until the last week, when it’s actually closed shop…and has done nothing of use since except hold up my sunglasses. I went to the doctors on Monday, who gave me some ear drops to help clear things up, but sadly these haven’t quite kicked in yet; consequently I spent tonight feeling like I was using in-ear monitors, as all I could hear was my own voice uncomfortably close and nothing else. I did a set at the top of the gig, which Glyn insisted

D'you What?

Tonight’s Mostly Comedy was stupidly good - insanely stupidly good - but at the same time it was a little terrifying, as I spent the whole show in a metaphorical vacuum, barely able to hear a thing. I should explain: for the last week or so, my right ear has been purely ornamental, due to a mix of a low-level infection and an unnecessarily large wax quota. This actually started when I was in Edinburgh, when every so often I’d feel like I was in an aeroplane waiting for my ear to pop; usually it would clear eventually; that was until the last week, when it’s actually closed shop…and has done nothing of use since except hold up my sunglasses. I went to the doctors on Monday, who gave me some ear drops to help clear things up, but sadly these haven’t quite kicked in yet; consequently I spent tonight feeling like I was using in-ear monitors, as all I could hear was my own voice uncomfortably close and nothing else. I did a set at the top of the

Only Yesterday.

It’s strange to think I’ve only been back from Edinburgh for three weeks; it definitely seems much longer. I guess this is because I’ve had a fair amount to do, or maybe it’s just the change in work intensity - the Fringe is pretty much the definition of full-on - but whatever it is, it certainly feels like I’ve been home a fair while. It’s only the fact that tomorrow's our first Mostly Comedy back that reiterates the time-scale. Yesterday was frustrating, as I had to reschedule October’s Mostly - temporary shifting venues to our previous home The Market Theatre as a one-off - due to a diary mix-up with The Sun. There’s no need to go into the whys and wherefores as everything’s settled, but it was another of those problem-solving situations I could have done without, when I thought I’d already sorted it. While it will be nice to do a Mostly there again, the worst bit will be having to lessen the capacity for the gig considerably, knocki

GBBO 2017: Week Four (19.09.17)

Image
The theme for this week’s Great British Bake Off was caramel; a topic that would have made that female rabbit from the old Cadbury’s Caramel adverts sit up and take note (if she wasn’t a fictional character). As ever, there were some splendid creations to behold (particularly from Liam and Yan) and yet again, Paul Hollywood was in an unnervingly upbeat mood; the blue-eyed glare of yesteryear has become a distant sexy-Scouse memory. Once again, I found myself tweeting along with the show; see below for all of them collated; WHY DO I DO THIS? 8:04PM: "The first time I went to my favourite caramel shop I was five..." 8:04PM: I'll cut YOU into portions. 8:06PM: Is Jaffa a trademark? Someone find out... 8:08PM: I'm marking this week's caramel week by pouring molten sugar onto my groin. Weird? 8:12PM: "This time next year, we'll be millionaire's (shortbread)." 8:22P

'University Challenged 2017/18: Volume Nine (18.09.17)'

Image
Tonight’s University Challenge wasn’t an overly gripping affair, although I did enjoy the serious intensity of Oxlade. Everything he said - as I mentioned in a tweet - appeared to be in inverted commas, and it wasn’t so much as if he enjoyed taking part; more that he was driven by some inner urgency to compete, like the world would end if he didn’t answer each question as best he could. The episode was also notable for Howe’s terribly quasi-psychedelic jumper, which looked like it had been knitted (or ‘knat?’) by George Harrison’s mum as an outfit for his trip to Height Asbury. It really truly wasn’t a good look. See below for today’s UC-based Twitter ramblings: Leicester Vs. Fitzwilliam - Cambridge. 8:02PM: Aldred with his egghead. 8:02PM: Howe's jumper is a sensory explosion. 8:03PM: Tindall's severe, Bond villain eyebrows. 8:04PM: Oxlade speaks like he's doing a voice-over, while pulling