Just had the journey from hell...it ended with me killing a shit load of frogs.

I headlined Chertsey Comedy Club tonight. It really shouldn't work that gig; it's in an odd shaped room filled by an odd-looking audience. It does work though - really well. Had a lovely time and I came in merely 20 minutes beyond my allocated time slot of 25 minutes. I stayed for a quick drink with the owner and some of the bar staff then made my merry way home.

Well I tried to, but in my infinite wisdom I took the M25 the wrong way. I only noticed this when I hit Kent - I was truly in a fucking world of my own driving tonight, not concentrating at all, my head just swimming with other stuff. If I'd put my GPS machine on I wouldn't have done it, but I got there without it, so naturally assumed I would get back without it too. I turned it on and it started working just as I drove down into the Dartford tunnel, immediately losing it's signal and not working again till I got to Potters Bar (via Waltham Abbey as the M25 was shut between junctions 25-26 - could there be a shitter place in the world to get diverted off the motorway than into Waltham Abbey? What a fucking hell hole...hate it...all right I admit I used to go out with a girl from there and it's the association I dislike rather than the place. I feel the same way about Wandsworth for the same reason...well, and for the reason that Wandsworth IS a shit tip for real but anyway I massively digress). At Potters Bar I knew how to get home anyway so my GPS machine was worth 100% of fuck all this evening.

So, the frogs...

I left the high blood pressure of London for the Beta blocker that is St Albans about three years back. I was getting pissed off with the traffic in London and the fact that it was taking me at least an hour getting out of the South/North circular roads to even start my journeys to gigs. There is a winding country road to get to my house in St Albans. I love that road - it's very calming and I usually drop the car window as I get to it and breathe in some normal country air. I didn't tonight because there was a massive thunder and lightning storm as I got nearby. As I turned one of the corners on the lane the entire road in front of me was covered in something. Obviously there was lots of big old puddles from the torrential storm but this was something else.

Hundreds of frogs.

And I mean literally hundreds - see I put it in itallics to emphasise that I'm not lying. Swear to god it was like fucking Magnolia. The road was far too wet for me to slam on the brakes so over I went. The noise they made beneath my wheels was awful. I've only ever heard a worse noise once and that was when I took off the heads of three consecutive rabbits in a line whilst driving through Frodsham in 1992.

I got in at 3am having left Chertsey at midnight. Should have been in by half twelve tops. Not only was I dramatically delayed I was also now a murderer. That was my night.

Not my best story but I never said this blog would be any good. In fact, I'm pretty sure I said it probably wouldn't be so you're the fool for reading this far even though you'd been warned.

And anyway, it doesn't matter if this blog isn't any good because by this time tomorrow I will be a great celebrity and serious actor, respected by my peers and fielding offers from the big nobs. Tomorrow lunch time I shall be appearing on the great BBC flagship factual drama series Doctors doing some great acting and looking brilliant and slim. And if you don't believe me you can just watch it and that will prove it all, and if you miss it for some god-knows-why reason you can just look in the cast lists in the Radio Times and see my name - it's definitely there because I just checked in South Mimms Services. It's not my 'Ray Peacock' name, it's my other one, erm, 'Ian something or other'.

So there you are.

Tomorrow, after the programme has aired (it's on about 2pm I think) I shall be posting an entry giving you some fantastic anecdotes from the set, so you normal people can get a bit of an idea what it's like being great and a celebrity like I will be. I would have done it today but I have a headache and I'm not really allowed to give anything away about it before it's on - for example, if I start telling you about the bit where I was in a hospital bed then that would give it away that my character ends up in hospital which could spoil your enjoyment of the programme and take away the element of surprise. I'm not saying my character does end up in a hospital bed - just saying that I can't tell you about the bit in the hospital bed till tomorrow.

If it even exists.

So, anyway, was gonna tell you about my gigs I've done but they seem like ages ago now so I'll just tell you that I headlined a gig in Christchurch (which is in Dorset and not Canterbury as I thought - I was thinking of Christchurch College in Canterbury, which, trivia fans, I am banned for life from, but I don't care as I have never met a gang of more objectionable cunts in my life than the students at that university that night that they turned the mic off on me for mentioning the Sept 11 incident so they can all fuck off - they sometimes book me by accident through Avalon and I have to remind them that they banned me and they go "oh yeah...sorry" which tells you all you need to know really, doesn't it?).

The Christchurch (in Dorset) gig was fine eventually - it was at the "Thomas Tripp Late and Live" and as an audience they don't really like it when it's only the act talking. They like to be involved a bit, so as soon as you talk to them and allow them to reply it's a piece of piss.

That was my first gig back after the Fringe which I like to call the 'adjustment' gig. Most people do a load of other late gigs up in Edinburgh as well as their hour show, but I was limited in doing that because my show was at eleven and I was compering the Free Beer Show - so doing the Christchurch (in Dorset) gig was really the first 30 mins set I had done for fucking ages. That's why they got the first 15 minutes of my Edinburgh show and then felt the wrath of my improvising tongue for the remainder of the show. It was nice to get the 'adjustment' gig out of the way.

The following night I did "Bracknell Comedy Cellar" which is an almost unfairly easy gig to perform at. If you're half competent you will shine there. If you have a good gig they treat you like some sort of god. It was nice to feel the latter after receiving only begrudging respect from Fringe audiences. If I was only allowed to do one more gig it would be there. Or East Dulwich Comedy Club (which I am on at on Thurs night - hosting the Celebrity Pub Quiz - don't forget I will actually be a celebrity by then so it's fine).

During the interval before I went on at Bracknell the staff were debating whether or not to chuck out a group of people in the audience who were being a bit gobby - and not in a well-timed way, quite the opposite in fact. I asked them not to throw them out. In fact I actually said "Leave them to me, I will deal with them myself" which is a line that Darth Vader says in Return of the Jedi which I have been wanting to use in everyday life since 1983. I was in that sort of mood you see. I often miss the sheer release of the aggression I was able to vent under the thin veil of theatre when I was doing my resting creation of Ray Peacock (the character thing - flat cap? Shouty? Oh, fuck off, you remember...) and the said audience members got it bad. It had been pent up in me since January which is the last time I did the 'character'. The rude audience members had to be carried out in the next interval.

The other thing I found out in Bracknell was really cool;

Last year I did the Edinburgh and Beyond Comedy Tour along with Russell Howard, Russell Kane and Reg D Hunter. At around the time we did the date in Bracknell at the theatre we had been on tour for a few weeks and were all tiring of our own (and each others) normal sets so at any given opportunity would try something different. It didn't always work mind, at the Lemon Tree in Aberdeen I didn't do a word of material and instead took on the entire testosterone-filled room of shouting Scottish folk in a proper stand off (It was a draw. In fact it was such a draw that I left the gig in the interval in fear and went back to the hotel. It was shit. The gig I mean, the hotel was lovely).

Anyway, at the Ed & Beyond gig in Bracknell I had got ever so slightly drunk on the rider before I went on. A 'rider' is free stuff like sandwhiches and beer and pop that (good) venues provide you with. Getting a bit typsy is not something I'm proud of, and it only took three bottles of Becks as I don't really drink. I remember Russell Howard bringing me on with the words "fuck, he's pissed, watch out - this could be painful for you". I don't think he meant it would be rubbish, I think he meant that it would be my character going full pelt in a comedically agressive drunken rant. Either way, it was truly prophetic.

I'm going to tell you the rest of it sort of back to front.

I felt really guilty after that gig. I even cried a little bit in the hotel because I thought I'd ruined someones life.

There was a couple in the audience who weren't a couple, but it was clear as I spoke to them from the stage that the bloke really liked the lass. Now, I have been in situations in my life where I have fancied a girl and took her out and never told her my real feelings and done things like take her to shows and stuff purely on the off-chance that she would eventually be sufficiently charmed (or worn down) by me to get to the snog stage. I also know from experience that once you establish a 'friendship' prior to the romantic stuff, the romantic stuff rarely follows as they like you as a friend and it would be "really weird - like kissing my brother or something".

So I thought that I could help this guy out, this kindred soul, I could be match maker and sort it for him.

I got them both on stage. It soon became clear that the lass really didn't want more than friendship with him. I tried to tie her to a chair so she HAD to listen to what he had to say. I shouted into the wings for something to tie her with. Russell Howard threw out some Jaffa Cakes to which I replied "I wanted Gaffa tape not Jaffa cakes" which I am still to this day very, very proud of.

Anyhow, I encouraged the lass to kiss him. She was very embarrassed and clearly icky about it and I was feeling as much discomfort as her and the audience but just kept pushing. It was desperation for salvation from the awful situation I had created. She agreed under duress to kiss him for us and he went in for the proper kiss which she pulled away from with a nervous fixed grin. I forget how my gig ended - I recall that I did kiss him as a sort of consolation but it wasn't the big romantic finale I'd hoped for. It was theatre, but only because it was uncomfortable.

I felt like such a cunt afterwards - really did.

The thing was, as comedians we sometimes forget when we are taking the piss out of people from the stage that we are fucking with their lives. All it takes is one well aimed moment of gold put-down and they forever have that repeated to them by their mates long after we as comedians have got the fuck out of dodge. When he arrived at the gig that night, that bloke still had the hope of getting with that girl. Even though it seemed to all right-thinking people that he was wasting his time (and money) on her, he still had the dream of it. Until I trampled all over it for a few cheap gags and a couple of hundred quids blood money. It had a profound affect on me and I felt awful about it for the longest time.

I was thinking about it when I got the Comedy Cellar gig the other night (the theatre is on the same 'compound' as the Comedy Cellar). After my gig I was told by several sources that the same couple had attended the Comedy Cellar gig since the Ed & Beyond theatre one. They had got it together and are now a proper couple. I felt like crying again (in a good way). Things ocassionally take time to come to fruition. It's took nearly a year for me to feel okay about it but it's worked out in the end.

Sometimes I worry too much.