Can't be bothered planning today's entry. Believe it or not - I usually do.

Instead, here are some things that I have been doing.

On Boxing Day I went to my friends house and had a lightsaber duel. This was about the most exciting thing I have ever done, and the fact that it was with a 5 year old child (my friend's nephew) who was simply never going to beat me only serves to make it better. Add to this the fact that some of it took place on a moving stairlift and can you think of a better way to spend Boxing Day? I have some pictures of it but don't know how to put them up. Suffice to say that the best part of having long scruffy hair like I have at the moment is it really lends itself to the portrayal of a dark Jedi.

The best part of it was when I had managed to get his rubbish cheapo lightsaber off him and had my very expensive proper lightsaber up against his neck. I have two very expensive proper lightsabers, but opted to use the red one as I was being Darth Boldsworth. The sheer look of terror on his face was incredible as I said "You are beaten", and I think that's what Christmas is all about really.

Terrorising children I mean.

I considered telling him I was his father (oooh, aren't I 'hack'?), but thought I'd perhaps mentally scarred him enough in the duel. He was scared for a bit and then he grabbed the 'blade' of my lightsaber and moved it away from him whilst saying "it's not real" (I think as much to himself as anybody else).

If somebody had come around to my house at Christmas with a proper lightsaber (like my one) and taken me on in a duel when I was five, and not patronised me by letting me win, then it would have been the greatest day of my life.

What I am saying is, this Christmas I made sure a five year old had the best day of his life. Start the queue ladies.

In contrast to such brilliant games, today I have spent the day in a hospital (not for me, don't worry). Actually it was two hospitals with another to look forward to tomorrow.

I have spent more time in hospitals for different reasons this year than one of those bald children (that may not be entirely true) and I am fucking sick of them. Just for the record - sick to fucking death of them. This evening part of the hospital fun was seeing a gentleman who had been in a car crash (in which three people were admitted dead on arrival - one of whom may have been wheeled past me - not sure - I managed to look away smartish) and being hassled by a druggie bloke outside A&E (who, I later found out from one of the nurses, had called ambulances out on 26 occasions so far in December alone).

The problem I have with hospitals is that, despite the magnificent and brave profile that I publicly project, I am incredibly sqeamish and prone to fainting in such environments. I can watch horror films all day happily, but once it's real I just can't handle it at all. I think this comes from my dad - who despite being a Northern no-nonsense brick shithouse (who the original character of Ray Peacock was based on - but don't tell him - it's a secret) is as soft as shite when there is blood about. For example, my brother once split his head open whilst climbing a wall looking for me when he was little (I'd gone to the scouts - it was a Friday), and whilst he was having his stitches at hospital my dad dropped like a sack of shit. He'd managed to get him to the hospital and stem the blood, but once my brother was 'okay' and in safe hands, my dad was away with the fairies.

And that's the same as me - fine at the time of the emergency - actually rather effectual as it goes - but once there is a moment to take a breath and I realise I am no longer needed to help, my head gives up and down I go. I haven't fainted today like, as I said there is another visit due tomorrow so it will probably be after that. I'm almost looking forward to it, now that I have resigned myself to it happening.

Other than that I have been spending time putting together the Christmas gift that I promised everyone who reads this blog who sent me their address (if you haven't sent yours, you'd better get a move on because they are being posted on 2nd January 2007), making dvd covers, filling out quizzes on MySpace and driving round the M25 looking for adventures.

And that's it for now, almost for the year in fact.

My next post will be about my best and worst gigs of 2006 (struggling to get it down to three on both of them - so may make it five), and then that's your lot for this year.

Cannot believe that none of you took the time out to send me a present at Christmas. After all I have given you this year - my heart and soul, not to mention my oft-hilarious pretend-uneducated scrawl.

If anyone wants to send me a picture of their bosoms or something then I will accept this as compensation (not you mum - and the person that sent me the picture after my similar request in August can just resend that one as I left it on my old laptop by accident). I only started doing this job to get pictures of ladies bosoms and it hardly ever happens...

I'm sorry, I think I may be too exhausted to be writing and my secret fantasies are just pouring out. I'll go now.

Love you all.

xxx

Go on then, I'll do you one on Christmas day if nobody else is going to do it. But can we let it be known that I did this years Christmas Chortle Blogs Speech and somebody else can do next years...

So, Happy thing and that. Hope you got everything you wanted and stuff.

I'm rubbish at Christmas, once the presents have been opened I just haven't got the heart for it. I think it might be because I find receiving gifts really difficult. Well, not difficult, I just always look like I don't like them and ever since learning this I now go out of my way to make a big fuss about gifts as I open them and do my best pleased acting. Last night I caught myself saying out loud "ooh that's great - I like The Beatles" which is something a parent would say to a child who had bought a completely misjudged gift, but I was keen that nobody be offended.

And I have done brilliantly on the present front - far better than anyone else in the world.

Have you got a top-of-the-range dvd recorder that's been illegally chipped to play mutli-region discs? I don't think so. I have.

Have you got that new limited edition Rocky Horror collectors tin in the shape of Patricia Quinns lips? I don't think so. I have.

Have you got a pair of beautiful brown DC trainers? I don't think you have, have you? I have.

Or a lovely black i-Station? No? I have.

Or a massive glass framed poster of Clerks? Read it and weep...you jealous?

Do you have a red leather Roberts retro DAB radio? (this question is not open to any other Avalon clients) It's right in front of me right now.

Or some...erm...gloves? Oh, you get the idea. You probably have got gloves...I should have left my gloating at the radio.

I got books and dvds and money and sweets and stuff as well - just in case anyone reads this and says "did you not like the jelly babies then?".

I was really upset to hear that Charlie Drake had died (and upset again today - a lot - when the hardest working man in showbusiness finally put his feet up). In all the articles I read about Charlie Drake over the last day or so, there has been mention of him being 'difficult' which then went on to 'validate' this assessment with the story of him refusing to change his act for television.

If this is being difficult then fucking hats off to being difficult.

After the amount of comedians - and I mean artists that I really respect as performers and know have a valid 'voice' - that I have watched through my fingers spouting watered down bollocks on television list shows over the past few days, I wish more people would be 'difficult' and have a bit of respect for themselves and their talent. When I read about Charlie Drake telling the staff at The Ed Sullivan Show to get fucked after their request that he change an act he had honed over years to near-perfection through hard graft I want to cheer. That he didn't just give in to the 'need' to just be on the telly - doing anything, just as long as he was on there - is how it should be in my mind. Each to their own I suppose, but the idea of chasing any television exposure and, I suspect, a few quid more doesn't sit well with me.

And I've heard all the arguments - it's like the thing where comics do more than one gig a night, I have just simply never understood this. This job is well paid - even the shit paid gigs are more money then you would get in most 'normal' jobs for an hours work. It's just greed. I was speaking to a comic at a gig a few weeks ago who was saying they had been on with such-and-such comedian the night before and that person had been doing four gigs that night. Four fucking gigs! That's just ridiculous. And then the comic I was speaking with said, "Yeah but don't forget - so-and-so has two children now"...

AND?

What the fuck is so-and-so feeding them? Not only is it greedy, but it dillutes ability and takes gigs away from others who are just as deserving.

I appear to be having a rant...

I'll stop now, after all today isn't a day for chastising my whoreish, 'fame'-hungry contemporaries for jumping through demeaning hoops at the command of lazy TV producers (how come I'm never asked to be on these shows any more?), today is a day for celebration and love and respect. And of course to remember the birth of...erm...thingy...Cliff Richard is it? I forget. Well whoever it was, I am sure they were dead good and an inspiration to us all to lead better lives and all that bollocks.

So may I wish you a very happy holiday time, and send you my best wishes and that.

I told you I was rubbish at Christmas. I just want to go and play with my presents.

Please don't burgle me.

Love xxx

I will get you up to date with what I have been up to in a moment but before that I wish to talk about my evening tonight (or last night now because it is after midnight and I am still up and not even tired yet which I think should be very attractive to ladies who are reading this and might even encourage some of them to come to the Christmas Celebrity Pub Quiz at EDComedy tomorrow night at the Hobgoblin in Forest Hill which I am doing some of the hosting for, if only to be in the same room as someone as sexy as me, and by tomorrow night I mean today which is Thursday).

I went to the Whitehall Theatre (or the Trafalgar Studios as they now insist on calling it) to see the stage show of The New Statesman. I was a little apprehensive about it beforehand, firstly because I felt I may be risking having a programme I was a big fan of being ruined by a modern day incarnation, and secondly because when I was meant to do an Edinburgh Preview there in July it got cancelled because it only sold two tickets and then when we pulled the show the theatre wouldn't even refund the tickets so I had to give the two people ten pounds out of my own pocket to pull the show and I never got it back even, so I was worried that Rik Mayall may have found himself in a similar situation this evening.

It was all ok you'll be glad to know, the show went ahead and was as good as could be hoped for.

The Tragfalgar Studios isn't the best theatre in the world though. It was refurbished relatively recently, and just like the Lowry in Salford that I mentioned the other week, you wonder what on earth they were thinking of. To it's credit, the sitelines are not an issue at the Trafalgar Studios, but christ it's uncomfortable. I spent the entire first half of the show being literally sat on by a fat gentleman next to me. Now, before you start your shouting, yes, I am aware that I am on the large side, and I have no issue with anyone being as big as they like, but I draw the line at being fucking sat on. I moved seats at the interval and tried not to think about the damp patch on my t-shirt sleeve from where he had sweat a bit on me. All it would have took to prevent this happening would be for the Trafalgar Studios to have arms on the chairs like normal theatres tend to have. Their absence must enable them to have an extra twenty seats tops I reckon, and given that the tickets were thirty five quid (and they weren't top price ones), it's a bit on the cheeky greedy side in my eyes. Those prices won't encourage anyone to go to the theatre other than toffs. And toffs aren't the best audiences. Again, only in my opinion of course...

But onto the show, which is really what I wanted to write about before I got sidetracked by whingeing about the theatre it's housed in.

In fact, fuck the show - if you want to see it then go - it's on till January. What I want to do really is give big raps (I think that's what the kids say when they mean compliment) to Rik Mayall.

I've always been a big fan, in fact, I can't think of anyone from my generation that isn't. I was obsessed with The Young Ones and Kevin Turvey and Bottom and all that stuff - and I mean watching-it-every-morning-before-school-and-again-as-soon-as-I-got-home obsessed. He was the first of the 'alternative' movement that I saw do live stand up (at the late Stockport Daventry Theatre) and to this day I have never lost control of my laughter as much as I did that night. I hung around at the stage door after the gig and met the man veeery briefly as he and support act Andy de la Tour were rushing off to be on Children In Need.

A few years later I saw him do stand up again at St Helens Theatre Royal (supported by unbilled Ben Elton) and once again I hung around the stage door. On this occasion there was no rush for them to leave, in fact it was the last night of the tour, and both of them were as accomodating as you could wish for, signing several autographs and chatting to me and my then girlfriend for literally two hours. It was utterly surreal to be sat with Rik Mayall as he excitedly acted out the entire second series of Bottom for us on his own (which he had just filmed), regularly having to pause for breath and calm himself down from laughing so much at the sheer fun of it. He was particularly excited about the line where Richie asks Spudgun if he would like "One potato or two?" in the Christmas episode. I can still remember clear-as-crystal him throwing his head back and shrieking with giddy laughter as he relayed it back to us.

And yes - on this occasion - this is name-dropping and I'm fucking enjoying doing it. I didn't wait at the stage door this evening because I am a grown up now and would have felt self-conscious about it, but I would have liked to...not least because the posters and autographs I got from him in 1991 have since been destroyed when they were left in the boot of a car that was stolen and burned to death, but also because I think the guy is a legend and I like to express my admiration for those that I admire.

See, in recent years - with the greatest respect - Rik Mayall has felt to me like a slightly forgotten man of comedy, which given the talent of the man is about as undeserved a situation to find himself in as there could possibly be.

Thing is, I don't think he's forgotten by the general public so much as the people who work the telly (there was an allusion to this in the show this evening), and that just seems ridiculous to me. You can't sacrifice a performer like Rik Mayall and yet go ahead with shows like...

Well...you know...

I don't need to mention them do I?

I sometimes do work in TV Centre and would hate to burn bridges...

We all titty know bang the bang sort of shows I'm on about.

Watching Rik Mayall on stage earlier was a masterclass in, not just comedy, but performing in general. Of course the dude has charm and charisma spilling out of him, but his technical skill is second to none too - perfect timing and physicality, my sycophancy towards the man could go on and on, but, my overall point is, I've missed Rik Mayall on TV and suspect I am not alone in this. The man should be able to walk into TV centre and name, not only his price, but also exactly what role he wishes to play and what time and channel the show will go out on.

And speaking of working at the BBC - I was in there the other day and noticed that you get frowned at by some people in TV Centre if you are laughing. Perhaps this is why Rik Mayall isn't knocking about there these days...the stoney gazes he would get as he giggled about potatoes.

Me and my writing partner bloke-thing Steve Morrison spent the day there on Monday doing some writing for something or other, and had a great laugh - but some people just look at you like you're mental. And this is in the comedy department of the building too by the way, not just in random corridors. It was as though they were thinking "Yes, we know you are writing comedy, but could you not laugh whilst you do it please?".

Which of course made us laugh more.

And we were giddy anyway because we were working in French and Saunders office. In fact - don't say nothing like - but we actually didn't do any work for the first hour or so, instead opting to take photos of each other holding various awards - which we are now going to show producers and try to convince them that we did win them in real life. For example, Steve and I have won British Comedy Awards, and Emmys, and the Golden Rose (all can be backed up with photographic evidence) and did you know that I actually won the Peoples Choice award for best villain for my role as the Fairy Godmother in Shrek 2?

I've got a photo of me with it sir, which proves it...

Can't quite remember what my point was with this bit. Actually it was probably just my way of showing off that Steve and I were writing at the BBC the other day.

Yep - that was all it was. I got into bragging during writing of the bit about meeting Rik Mayall when I was eighteen, and just carried on...

Now if I can just work out a way of mentioning that I am in an episode of the next series of Doctor Who my work here will be done. It's a tough one like, they're very secretive and they don't like you saying about it, even if you only have a really small role and only a few lines in it like me, and probably wouldn't even have done it had it not been Doctor Who, but as it was Doctor Who then obviously you (as in me) have to do it.

I won't mention it for a bit longer to be on the safe side.

Oh come on - I filmed it fucking weeks ago - I've been so fucking good in keeping it quiet!

I am beginning to get ever so slightly worried that I am addicted to YoSushi. I am going there a lot. It used to be that I could only go there on the odd occasion that I went into the centre of London, but now one has opened at Brent Cross and that's kind of convenient to get to from my house.

If anyone wants to make me a little cardboard sign that I can put in front of me when I go there saying "This is NOT a buffet - You have to PAY for all of this" then that would be a lovely Christmas gift.

Apparently Sushi is good for you though - and I have worked out a clever way of stacking the plates so that some of them are hidden by others. Not that I did it on purpose...well...not the first time I did it anyway. It's like when you buy multipacks of bottled water at the supermarket - as long as you pull off the little barcode label and throw it into the middle of the rest of your shopping when it is on the till conveyor belt, you are in the clear. You have offered to pay for it - not your fault if the person on the till doesn't pick it out and scan it...

So, earlier this week I did "Outside the Box" in Kingston, which was enjoyable and lovely (even though it was kind of quiet). Highlight of my night was the fact that I persuaded two audience members to genuinely go on a date with each other. I said that if the rest of the audience all put a quid in then they could have that sixteen quid as well so it cost them nothing, but unfortunately the rest of the audience left straight after the gig so Pete and Tiffany's romantic escapade will have to be self-funded on this occasion. They should just be grateful that I was there to nurture their blossoming love. I spoke to one of them afterwards and they said that it had been in the air for a while that they were attracted to each other, but it just needed a little push. Thank god for me! You really should just tell somebody if you fancy them though - you could be pleasantly surprised, and if not, what's the worst thing that could happen? You lose a friendship that you were only indulging because you fancied them anyway.

On Tuesday I went to Manchester to see Tenacious D.

Fucking top gig, seriously. A really theatrical show, musically incredible, very very funny and, coming in at two hours, worth the cash. Well I say "worth the cash" - I was in a free hospitality box, but I imagine I wouldn't have felt short-changed should I have paid. I bought tee shirts - I contributed in a way. I also bought an official Tenacious D "cum rag" which is just a small towel with a design on it, and I really have no idea why. I don't intend to use it for said purpose - ridiculous how a brilliant gig can get you excited into parting with money, isn't it?

The support act on the tour was a comedian called "Neil Hamburger" from the US. On last year's Edinburgh and Beyond tour, he became a bit of a legend. None of us had actually seen the dude, but the fact that he just said "Hamburger" as a catchphrase captured our imagination and it soon became a sporadic catchphrase of all the acts on the tour. Particularly Russell Howard who got very giddy whenever the opportunity to say it presented itself.

Anyhow, "Neil Hamburger" died the fucking death of all deaths to the capacity crowd and turned on the audience. When his name was announced in the thankyou's at the end of Tenacious D's set, I am confident that I was the only person applauding amongst the 20 thousand folk there. I was certainly the only one standing up and cheering.

However - I have since found out that this isn't the guy we had been taken with on the tour last year.

There are two comics called Hamburger!

How fucking ridiculous is that?

The one we were quoting was Alonso "Hamburger" Jones. His catchprase is "Hambuger" as a replacement for swearing. I had wondered why Neil hadn't said "Hamburger" in his act like I was expecting.

I was talking to one of the guys in the hospitality suite and he was pretty critical of the stand up part of the show - saying that Neil Hamburger was "shit". Now, admittedly, he did end his set by saying (and cover your ears if this might offend you - remember I am merely the messenger here) "Why does Julia Roberts smear her cunt with shit?" and then walking off without so much as a "discuss", but I think it was a little harsh to dismiss the fella on the strength of that gig.

It was seriously unplayable as a stand up gig - twenty thousand rockers and metal heads all there to see Tenacious D, and then some dude just walks on.

Of course he died.

I think people can be harsh in their assessment of comedians sometimes, other factors really can come into play with regards to a gig's success. I get the feeling that there is a certain school of thought that suggests a 'good' comedian can stand up anywhere and make people laugh, but that is utter bollocks, and certainly not an accurate gauge of somebody's talent. That's why as a comedian you sometimes get phonecalls asking you to come and be a comedian at somebody's birthday party, with no stage, no lights and a cordless mic so you can "walk around whilst you do your turn", or in fucking tents in shopping cetres just so some phone company can get a bit of publicity whilst you swallow any artistic integrity you ever had and just try to think of the money.

Like that thing Stephen Grant mentioned in his blog a few weeks ago. It's a complete misunderstanding of the art form, and more of us should turn down these sorts of offers lest such a cringeworthy experience puts somebody off watching comedy for life. And, by the way, that wasn't me slagging Stephen Grant there - or any of the acts that through no fault of their own get conned into these things - not at a bit of it - but it is me slagging the sort of people that organise these things and are that bereft of creative intuition or respect that they think a free gig in a tent in the middle of the day in a shopping centre will ever work under any circumstances. I feel it insults us.

And we've all (comics I mean) turned up at 'gigs' and thought "who the fuck decided that this was a good idea to do a show here, in the fucking corner of the main pub next to a fruit machine whilst people with no interest in the show sit around trying to have conversations?". And they are always the gigs that pay fuck all too. All it does is make some people a shit load of cash at our expense, and make the people in that 'audience' decide that if this is comedy then they will never be going to a comedy night again.

Somebody should trademark the word 'comedy' so it can only be used as a description for a properly thought out and organised night. I believe we have a duty to not indulge and perpetuate the fraudulent nights. And I speak as somebody who once ran a gig upstairs at the Hog's Head in Watford which fulfilled all of the bad points I have just criticised in others. My defence for my actions is youthful naievety - but I was never taking the piss. Some people, I suspect, do...and they are killing comedy for cash.

Anyway, I have gotten slightly off track (about three days camel ride off track actually)and onto a soap box. I was talking about that Hamburger fella wasn't I?

Regardless of how well he didn't do - I had a genuine respect for that Neil Hamburger chap. I don't get nervous before gigs generally speaking, but walking out at the M.E.N Arena? As a support act? As a comedian supporting a 'band'? Not a cat in hell's chance that I would manage to keep my cool in that situation. The dude deserved his round of applause.

Even if it was only from me.

No properly thought out post from me today, I'm not feeling well.

Spare me your mock sympathy.

I'm trying to get myself well for my gig tomorrow (today - Monday) night at Outside The Box in Kingston. You can come if you want? Be nice to see you. Up to you really. It says it's Paul Sinha headlining there tomorrow on their website but it's not, it's me.

So I've just been reading about David Walliams winning his sport trophy on the front page of Chortle which is exciting. Well, exciting in so far as there will probably be a plush figure toy of him holding it aloft in the shops by Christmas.

I actually watched some of the BBC Sports Personality of the Year show this evening, as the rugby league team I follow (St Helens RLFC - I believe I may have mentioned them?) were up for team of the year. And they won it which is brilliant given that they were up against that golf team and that. It was a public vote, and thankyou to everyone that I texted asking them to vote (if any of you actually did). It was fucking amazing to see the look on the faces of all the 'proper' sports people in the audience as a rugby league team walked away with it, and double sweetness as Johnny "I done a kick" Wilkinson had to present the team with the trinket. I love it when the underdog wins so so so much. Perhaps the BBC will give a bit more thought to how they market rugby league now?

Yeah, fucking, as if...

As I have been slightly groggy I have been spending a bit of time obsessing my way around the internet this evening.

As is natural for any performer I spent some time googling myself and seeing what people have written about me. I happened to re-read my Chortle review (here)from my Edinburgh show this year "Out Of Character". I think that most reviews on Chortle are by and large relatively fair - although there does seem to be a trend of them going "Oh this act is brilliant, they rule, they do great stuff, but for all that, they're shit". The thing that got my goat with the review from Steve this year was the bit he said about me "telling another comic's story" and the feeling that this felt like "cheating". I wrote to Steve at the time about this (as I have done every time he has reviewed me) and said I felt it was unfair. He said it was only a casual comment about a very small part of the show (or some sort of similar palming off as he tends to, probably sensibly, do with my correspondence).

The story comes from Andre Vincent, and was about the time he supported "The Proclaimers" on tour. I credited Andre in the show, and most importantly, was aware that this wasn't a story Andre did on stage. It was just something he told me once, so I was hardly nicking material - it was just something funny that somebody had said to me (as indeed, were many other parts of my Edinburgh show).

However, the fact that it came from the mouth of a comedian and not from, say, a member of my family, seemed to suddenly put a different slant on it. I bumped into Andre in the Pleasance courtyard one night and really wasn't sure what he himself made of it from a moral point of view. He asked me how his story was going, and I wasn't sure if there was a touch of resentment. I told him that I told it beautifully, and double-checked again that it wasn't something he used onstage as material himself. He seemed to be all right with it. Sometimes you can't tell...

But then today as I lurked around the internet, I happened upon a bit of his BBC3 Hurrah for cancer documentary. I hadn't seen it when it was on TV, but had wanted to as I was interested in it given that much of what happened to him was around the time of rehearsals and the Fringe run of The Big And Daft Christmas Show. So I had a little watch of it.

Great Programme - as was his Edinburgh show about the same topic - but then he started to talk about how he was surprised at how badly comedians had reacted to the news of his cancer, and had Marcus Brigstocke and Alistair Mcgowan and people like that saying unhelpful response lines to camera. Stuff like "how is your...condition?" or your "little problem" (forgive my paraphrasing - it was much funnier than I've just made it sound). Andre then said that only one comic said something in response that he liked. Cut to Ricky Gervais saying "Can I have your dvds?".

I was the comic that said that to Andre - that was me. Technically I have now written for Gervais.

Now, isn't that the same as me repeating something he said to me in my show?

I don't think it's cheating at all - it's just relaying a funny postcard from life. And at any rate - mine was even less cheating because I have always credited Andre at length with the story. He attributed my comment by insinuation to Ricky Gervais, even though I was the great comedic maverick who still went for the laugh, and didn't go soft on him when he was pissing blood. Plus...how do I say this? I sort of meant it about getting his dvd's...

It was a good show though, was enjoying watching it and am looking forward to watching the other bits.

See, I couldn't give a fuck about that being included in his show. I don't really think Andre cares about his story being in my show (not entirely certain - but I gave him the opportunity to say if it was a problem when I bumped into him and he didn't seem to give a fuck either).

Just goes to show you how something briefly mentioned in a review can really get to you though, to the point where you are still moaning about it nearly four and a half months later.

It's interesting, isn't it?

Oh, is it not...?

Another film review to add to my last post...

I just remembered I saw "Tenacious D in the Pick Of Destiny" as well. I only saw it this week - can't believe I forgot to mention it. So here is my review:

That was good - it was similar to the HBO series.

Yeah I liked that one.

As I believe I mentioned earlier, at this time of the year I feel gigs tend to become a bit of a rule unto themselves. Not that gigs aren't anyway, but more so.

It is for this reason that I tend not to bother myself with corporate stuff during the festive period. In the last week alone I have turned down a gig during a boxing match and an after dinner thing for army people, either one of which would have paid for my entire Christmas shopping but may have resulted in me losing the will to live, possibly during my act. With hindsight I thought that maybe the 'character' act of 'Ray Peacock' would have been an option, but it has been so long since I donned the cap that this would have presented it's own stresses. Perhaps I am just losing my bottle, perhaps I have become snobbish about it...if the wolf had gotten nearer the door I may have just said yes, but I have worked hard to get to a point where I can, to some extent, turn stuff down.

I am the same with telly stuff. My management have long since given up on asking me to go to castings for adverts, and no I'm not being all Bill Hicks about it - I did do one once, I just don't enjoy the cattle market casting process of adverts, and they really offer no challenge to me. I went to far too many where I came out of them thinking it was their fault that they had not seen me at my best. In fact, I was discussing this in the car with Isy Suttie the other day when we did Lancaster University. It was during one of the short moments of time that she chose not to fall a-fucking-sleep whilst I drove us both to and from the gig.

We both felt that at the gig the audience had contributed nothing to the evening, and that it felt like they hadn't even been expecting comedians to be on the stage. Don't get me wrong, the gig was fine, but it could have been brilliant if they had met us half way. And so the conversation got round to castings and we both agreed that there was nothing worse than being at a casting where you feel that the people judging you aren't meeting you half way and thus prevent you from actually showing what you are capable of. It seems like a ludicrous way of finding the best person for the job, and I know that from my point of view, if one of the skills required for a role is performing under the scrutiny of someone apparently indifferent to you, then I don't want the fucking job thankyou very much. It can't be a coincidence that the three castings that resulted in success for me this year were also the three castings where I felt the people casting it genuinely tried (and succeeded) in creating an audition environment that enabled applicants to shine.

I know you may be looking up at the title of this post by now and wondering what the fuck this has to do with Lincoln Drill Hall, but it's on the way, don't panic.

See, I performed at Lincoln Drill Hall the other night, with that shitty Winchester gig still in my mind, and thought that I may as well write off the year as the audiences had turned. It was lovely to be surprised, the hall was filled (few hundred) and they were a pleasure to talk to. So how do I gauge my ability? A. Entertaining with ease three hundred plus normal people or B. standing in a staring competition with twenty mostly sullen humourless arts students?

I'm going to go for A, Chris.

It was such a pleasure to play. There was a lot of banter, I was sexually assaulted on stage by a gay man who wished to demonstrate to me what being a 'little spoon' constitutes in a relationship (I really hope that was his keys that I could feel against my arse), I saw the nipple of a girl in the front row who swore it was an accident but I don't believe that for a second, and we had a long drawn out chat with a gentleman who boasted of having threesomes and went on to list his job as "head of oral excellence" at (wait for it) Siemens. I was so happy I did some breakdancing. To be honest I had been looking for an excuse to do it given that the stage was so big. My resultant laboured breathing and shooting pains revealed to the audience that I hadn't indulged in it for a while (since the last Saturday of the Fringe at the Free Beer Show), but fuck it was worth it.

So maybe I have misjudged the general mood towards Christmas. I really should keep reminding myself that you can never completely judge a room until you have finished your journey up to the microphone...they may just surprise you.

That gig may have sneaked into my top three for the year. You'll have to wait to find out - I am going to be listing my top three good gigs and my top three shit gigs of the year on here soon. I will probably do my favourite films of the year too, given that I have been lax in keeping you up to date with my cinema going, and I know how much you love my film reviews. Actually, I'll just tell you some now, I saw "The Departed" (that was okay, but should have ended half an hour before it did), I saw "Saw III" (which was just stupid, but with hindsight I think I might have enjoyed it in a way), and I saw "Borat" (made me laugh a few times). So that's good to know if you are looking for something to see at Christmas (although I think only "Borat" is still on). I wanted to see "Hollywoodland" but it appears to have finished now. Or maybe it's not come out yet. I think it looks good, but that isn't an official review because like I say I haven't actually seen it yet.

In dvd news I have watched "Xmen 3" (that was quite good), "Clerks II" again (faultless - in fact, fuck it - that's my film of the year. If you have a dvd player that can play region one then order it from the America right now because it's not out here for a while - it is a beautiful movie and if you don't like it then there is something just not right in your genetic and emotional make up - you don't need to have seen "Clerks" but really you should watch that too if you haven't), "Superman II - The Richard Donner Cut" (excellent stuff - a film that may never have seen the light of day yet worth the wait) and "Rocco meats Trinity" (might be a bit strong for some folk, and the second half of it with the anonymous orgy is just boring, but the first half hour is smashing).

And that's it for today.

I need to go now, because I am really starting to worry that I haven't done enough work on this sitcom thing that me and Steve Morrison are writing together. He's been on holiday and he's gonna go mental at me if he gets back and I've not done anything.

And if he is reading this blog in Egypt or wherever he's gone then...ha ha...only joking...ha ha...I've done loads of work Steve...ha ha...it'll all be here waiting when you get back...ha ha ha...shit.

I was well up for updating this blog last night - really was - but then I did a gig in Winchester and it put me in a bad mood so I decided to let you all off.

Gigs get all weird as the run up to Christmas starts, people in the audience are either overly up for it or too distracted to care.

I did a gig at the University of Gloucestershire the other night and it really should have been a fucking nightmare, as up until the time I got on the stage (I was headlining), proceedings had been dominated by some stupid fucking girl in the front row who had taken it upon herself to keep standing up and shouting out and waving her arms and all of that shit. She was clearly coked off her fucking tits (a fact later confirmed by her associates) and an absolute pain in the arse to anyone and everyone. I have major issues with drug culture. How fucking dull and without soul must you be to need cocaine on a night out? Not being a grandad about it but I just think that there is rarely a more objectionable site or experience than crossing paths with a coke-head. It is utterly unnattractive.

The coke girl had gone by the time I got to the stage, but not before turning from the shouty "up for a laugh" (those inverted commas are SO important there...) lass into a nasty little bitch screaming obscenities and bragging that she will make more of her life than being a "fucking stand up comedian".

I'm clinging to the hope that she was found dead with crusted nostrils and covered in her own rancid vomit in the toilets this morning to make myself feel better. Is that too harsh? If you'd seen her you perhaps wouldn't think so...

Thing was, once she left the gig it was a happy room, but up until then it had been a fucking nightmare. Just shows how one egomaniac can ruin a good night. It was nice for me not to be that person for a change.

The same can't be said for my gig in Winchester last night. I was compere and they took against me from the second I stepped foot on the stage. It was like the late show in Brighton the other week all over again, but this time with passive aggression instead of balls out vitriol. The audience were just a bit sneery (not all of them, but enough), and the problem is, when they are like that, I just get sneery back. And perhaps a little nasty and sulky. It's all very childish. On everybody's part.

Yet it wasn't the audience that ultimately pissed me off last night, it was one of the acts.

Yes sir, I'm going to go there...

After 15 minutes of me compering to these humourless fuckers, which had mainly involved me resorting to pretend insults and critiquing the mural that was painted on the back of the stage, I got them all clapping and cheering for their first act, Alex Lasarev. After I announced his name, Alex stayed sat in his seat, refusing to come onto the stage and shouting that he didn't want to do it. It was a jokey reluctance, and I went over to him and encouraged him to get up there. The audience didn't go for it too much but it was worth a crack on his part to do something different. He went onto the stage and started critiquing the mural, just as I had done. In keeping with the bantering mood he had set between the acts I shouted out "I tried that it doesn't work, they don't like it". He then said back to me, with a kind of angry face "that's because you are shit".

Now.

I don't want to get in a bitching session on here. I've really resisted being shitty about anyone personally in this blog, but I can't let this one go. I was fucking incensed. There was a little smattering of applause after he said it, as the 20 strong audience (yes 20 - that was all it was) had their dislike of me vindicated by one of the acts. Thing was, I hadn't been at my best, but where the fuck is the solidarity? It should have been clear to any other comic that the audience were a tough nut to crack (as Alex found out in the rest of his set), but I felt it kind of disrespectful for a comic to be joining in with the crowd against the compere. And, okay, maybe if there had been a joke, I could have laughed it off, but it was literally calling me 'shit', which isn't really a very good joke and just, well, like I said, disrespectful.

My temptation right now is to lay into him and be cutting about his act and general demeanour but I'm not going to. As I was driving home I remembered that I happen to have a video of him dying on his arse in leather trousers at the Frog and Bucket just before I went onto the stage and ripped the roof off, and was all up for shoving it on YouTube and linking back to it here, but I guess that would discredit my point (and I don't really have the technological know-how to do it anyway). I feel that we should be working as a team on tough nights, not being fucking sheep and pandering to the hostility of that sort of audience. Comedic warriors and all that...

In the second half, I put in a bit of effort and won the gig round, but it was little consolation.

To be honest, I think Alex was already in a bit of a moody because when we were waiting for the gig to begin, he noticed that his picture on the poster was bigger than the one of Stefano Paolini, despite the fact that Stef was the headline and Alex was support. I don't know if it was meant to be a boast, or a dig, or simply borne of insecurity but for some reason Alex, with a smile, asked Stef if it bothered him that his picture wasn't bigger. Stefano replied "as long as my cheque is, I couldn't give a fuck".

Anyway. Point is, Alex has made the list...

So what else?

I did do some great gigs this last week too. I did Tony Cowards gig in Billericay (at Billericay F.C) which should have been awful but was a joy to play. To be honest, it was worth it for the open spot (a guy called Trevor - his act consisted of him essentially listing his C.V and talking about how he is a referee and maths teacher - shouldn't have worked...sort of didn't...but that's why it did...) who I could have watched for another half hour quite happily. He would have done another half hour happily too, if he hadn't been dragged from the stage. It was a chatty audience when I walked on at the end (par for the course for me as we know), but they were dead good natured and we had a really enjoyable 45 minutes of banter. Great club - shouldn't be, but is.

Sunday night I went up to Manchester to see Oasis do an intimate secret gig at the Lowry theatre. I say Oasis, it was just Noel and Gem, but it was an accoustic set so was a bit special. There were footballers and showbizzy folk in the audience. Myself and Peter Kay represented the comedy community. We didn't sit together like.

Overall I didn't really enjoy it, partly because of the audience who had clearly overdone it on the pop and were very heckly (and I would advise any aspiring comic who is worrying about hecklers to try and catch Noel Gallagher performing to a crowd of cunts - immaculate razor sharp put-downs - I felt put to shame by his quick-witted slamming), but the main problem was the venue.

I performed at the Lowry theatre last year on the Edinburgh and Beyond tour, and it really wrong footed all of the performers that night. See, it looks beautiful, it's pretty new and nicely decked out, but there is simply no atmosphere in there. I didn't fully realise the reason for this until I sat in the audience on Sunday, but fuck, it's a rubbish theatre. Not the big theatre there, apparently that's lovely, but the smaller venue. Dreadful sitelines, poor acoustics, just a major example of style over content. If it had been my first experience of a theatre I would never have gone back to any theatre ever again. Somebody with a bit of fucking intelligence needs to oversee the arts centres in this land, they are ironically butchering the arts with their cack-handed efforts in my outspoken opinion.

And that's me for now I think. Been a bit ranty this tonight, hasn't it? Sorry about that - it's December and I've started to get the end-of-term attitude of being a bit gobby and unarsed about behaving. I'll try and get it in check by next time.

And while I think on - can all the people who have emailed or PM'd me about this blog at any point send me their addresses please? I may have a Christmas gift for you all if I can sort it out in time. Just send them in the feedback bits (comments aren't displayed until I have cleared them, and I naturally won't publish your personal details), or send them on a PM (Private message) to me via the Chortle Forums. You don't have to, but it will be your loss if you don't.

I promise I won't stalk you.

If only I could get you to promise the same...

I really would like to write on here.

I'm sat at my desk and had every intention of writing a lovely catch up entry for you, then I switched on my phone and it began to ring, and my Outlook Express started to bleep and all of that...

This isn't me showing off about getting messages by the way, this is me explaining why my telephone is switched off completely for an increasing number of hours a day and why there is no news from me on here.

There will be though - I decided that if I wrote a really short entry now, promising that I would update when I got home from wherever my gig is tonight (just checked - Winchester) then I will be more inclined to come good on it and write the fucking thing.

I will now send a text to my writing partner Steve Morrison and promise similar things about the show we are writing together. I say 'together'...I had the idea and at the moment he is writing it pretty much single-handed because I'm too rubbish at organising myself when I am busy.

So.

Yes.

Entry later on this evening (early hours of morning).

We will hear about my gigs from last week (Essex, Lancaster, Essex, Cheltenham), we will hear about the filming I did (we probably won't - I'm not allowed to say...although the fact that you have already been told I was in a hotel in Cardiff and that I am not allowed to say should tell you all you need to know...) and we shall hear about the secret Oasis gig I went to the other night.

We will also hear about how I am famous now beacause I have finally made it onto YouTube and (this is the important bit) I didn't put it on there myself. I got sent the link by one of my great MySpace "friends". It's the trailer for "Terrorville" (shit programme we did "Big And Daft" on) and I am on it looking young and slim and with a sexy voice. I still have a sexy voice but that's about it from the three things. It's here, so I don't need to tell you about it later now...that's me at the beginning saying "Ah - there you are".

In fact, I could have used the time I've just used writing my excuse to write the actual entry.

I'm a bit fuzzy headed at the moment - please pay me no mind...

Have missed you like...