Surprised to find myself doing this to be honest, but you're such lovely people...
Right - I'm harbouring a long-held ambition to do a 10 minute slot of open-mic stand-up. I've jotted down an introduction type bit - feel free to tear it to shreds (I can handle it - I've got books and everything)
Also, try to imagine it performed too please! Ta!
Hi. Hi. Right, well, I'll be honest with you. I'm nervous. That means you're probably nervous too. That's a bit of a crap start, isn't it? I can't help it, sorry. You should see me with a woman! It's all pretty guilt based. I try to dangle them over a canyon of potential and probable remorse– 'agree to see me again, or choose the manner of my passing'. That sort of thing.
No, I'm not saying that f you don't enjoy this then let my death forever rest on your conscience. But think about it. Ok, nerves then.
Thirteen years old, right? Left at home, alone. It's a Friday. I know this because Avenger Penguins has just finished. The thirteen year old me hates Fridays. And I'll tell you why. A knock at the door. It's the paperboy.
I'd handle things differently now, of course. No money in the house, the paperboy wants paying, I'll go to the door - 'sorry mate, can I sort it out with you next week?' No problems, the world is at peace. Easy?
But nope – not at thirteen. A knock at the door. BANG! I slam up against the wall, making myself as unnoticeable as possible – their vision is based on movement, you see? I think about it – there's no money anywhere I can think of. My chest rises and falls in rhythm and I breathe silently. Please don't look through the side window, please don't look through the side window. Bollocks.
There he is, looking in. He can see me. I can see him. There's nothing to be done. But I'm trapped now. How can I explain my way out of that situation? So I hold the moment – I stay pressed against the wall but I avert my eyes. If I can't see him, he can't see me.
I'm not that bad now, of course. But the nerves flare up at weird places. Shaking hands with women for example, how the bloody hell do you do that? Too hard, she screams. Too soft and all her friends will think you're gay. Crocodile Dundee's choice. Better than kissing cheeks though. I always seem to get my Nan's ear. She's got lobes like a Masai.
I can't order certain dishes for fear of mispronunciation and, if it's unavoidable, always back up my choices with a finger thrusting at its place on the menu. 'Can I have the mer…mer…mer…(pause) mer…yes, that's it, thank you very much.' I've only got a girlfriend because I couldn't face buying porn.
I was in the 99p shop the other day. They sell porn in there! How f**king repulsive must you be to find yourself in pound shop porn?