22/01/07
For the record and live porn -
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As I am now a regular contributor to the site I make it my business to have a little mooch about on Chortle at some point in the day, but I missed one bit of "news" in the comedy gossip bit the other day. Luckily my manager, who was obviously very busy in the office getting me work and not just dossing about on the internet in between the latest request for Russell Howard to read the News At Ten or whatever the fuck they want him to do next, is far more thorough in his surfing of this site. He very kindly sent me this;
"Here’s one to get the speculation going. From the gossip website Holy Moly: ‘A Mole's girlfriend was once involved with a northern character-based comedian (but which one?). The sex life was fairly dull, until he took her on a walking route around the Brighton and Hove area. Over the next few weeks they began a routine which would be repeated until the relationship ended. On reaching a deserted field he would demand that she ran a few steps ahead of him. Then, on his command, she would be obliged to squat and piss in her pants. Only on completion of the urination would he be able to gain an erection, and then penetration and full sex would occur."
Not only did my manager insinuate that I was the comic in question, he made sure I understood the implication by attatching the words "Is there something you need to tell me?".
Sadly my friends, despite being a very very sexy man, adventurous and uninhibited, I cannot lay claim to this being me. As I explained to my impertinent manager, I have done all of the above with the exception of the walking bit. I can usually summon a degree of energy (admittedly limited) during bedroom gymnastics but I draw the line at going for walks.
Hope that narrows the speculation field down...I know who my money is on...
On Saturday night I performed the role of compere at EDComedy at The Hob in Forrest Hill. I don't think I need to go over my usual sycophancy about it being the best club in the world again - it just is, let's accept it as a given.
In my occasionally brilliant job I meet lots of people. In the years I have been performing there have been thousands and thousands of faces in front of me, and hundreds of them laughed. Some were cunts, some were great. But with respect to all the other people that this excludes, I have never had a better audience member in one of my gigs than Mike Thompson (I nearly put 'Michael' just now, but then I remembered that he prefers 'Mike').
The night was all going fine, I was fucking about as I tend to do during compering duties, and I was happily chatting away to Mike in the front row. Normally, as a compere, you would end up chatting to quite a bit of the audience over the course of a night...I pretty much just talked to Mike. I've never before been drawn to an audience member to the point that I have given them my mobile number whilst I was still onstage, but that's what I did Saturday night. And because I requested that Mike ring it to check that he had got it down right, I also rather cleverly acquired his number too.
What sort of professional comedian spends the time he is off stage texting an audience member that he has just met? What sort of comedian tells the audience member in the texts to stop laughing at the other comedians whilst they are on? What sort of a comedian spends the entire interval sending the audience member more and more increasingly stalkerish texts?
Mike was great - it transpired that he worked in I.T or something, and I asked him what his dreams had been when he was younger. He informed myself and the rest of the audience (all of whom were as taken with this pleasant young man as I was) that he wished to be a porn star. I just had to make his dream come true, if only for one night.
I offered him the chance to audition live on stage.
In a move that wrong-footed everyone - he agreed.
During the first interval I wrote a little script for him to read from, and - after deciding it may be legally problematic to have a lady from the audience be his 'prey' I constructed a pretend lady out of a mannequin head, a witches wig, and a stuffed bin bag in a tshirt. I admit it wasn't ideal, but it meant that The Hob didn't need to fear for it's license.
I'm not going to make a habit (after today) of this linking to YouTube clips, but here for your enjoyment is the first part of Mike's audition (Mike doesn't have a handlebar moustache in real life - I made that for him);
CLICK HERE
You will note at the end of the clip, Mike does exactly what it says on the script I wrote and takes down his trousers. Whether he would or not was a subject of speculation backstage in the interval and, contrary to what I would later claim, I had predicted that he wouldn't. I should never have doubted him. I don't know what I was thinking of...
Then came the business end of the season - I know the quality of these clips is poor as usual, so just for the record, Mike's opening line is "I've already come down your chimney". Why on Earth I am not offered more script writing opportunities is an ongoing mystery when I am capable of coming up with lines like that.
CLICK HERE
It's not very clear on the clip but if you look carefully you will see that he literally fucks 'her' head off.
You can say what you like about me as a comedian, I am more than aware of my weaknesses - but there's not many comics can successfully pass off bullying an audience member into fucking a binbag as comedy.
If you see Mike in Forrest Hill, buy him a drink. He's the one probably still wearing the Father Christmas costume.
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