30/01/07
Double Trouble -
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I continue to upset the PUBD (People Upset On Behalf of the Disabled) on a pretty much daily basis.
On Friday night I broke my own rule and doubled up on gigs (two in one night). This is the second point of hypocrisy on my behalf this week having previously condemned other acts for doing just that (the first hypocrisy being my purchase of a sports car after claiming I had no interest in it). In my defence of the doubling up, it was kind of as a last minute favour, and in defence of the sports car...erm...nope, haven't got one.
The first of my gigs on Friday was at The Comedy Box in Bristol, a great gig as previously declared herein, but the Friday nights are new and last week was kind of quiet. Audience members I did battle with included a cunt from the tax office, a GP (or so she said...she was a snooty pedantic fucker at any rate, in my opinion), some woman who got upset by me saying "cunt" and went on to offer an argument on semantics (whilst not having the intelligence to realise that as a result of her interjection I went on to say the word 'cunt' another twenty or so times in the resultant discussion), and a selection of folk who took offence at my beautiful and tender impression of Jordan's first baby.
According to my friend who overheard a discussion in the ladies toilets after the event, it was this that 'crossed the line'.
I don't really know why though. Nor do I fully understand my own personal justification for doing the impression (which I have been doing for ages now - it's basically me cross-eyed with puffed out cheeks - it's rather uncanny I'm told). I don't fumble around the stage and bump into things (although I might have slapped my legs as if they were burning on Friday...), it is not a joke about blindness or anything, it's just supposed to be silly. When it upsets people though, it tends to be the blindness thing that is brought up.
But why should that make it a taboo? You could argue that the kid in question doesn't deserve to be ridiculed, but I'm not particularly ridiculing it, and it's own mother seems to sell a story a week to some vicious fucking rag about how "Harvey kicks me" or something. How come I'm the bad guy for crossing my eyes?
And I'm not personally overly convinced with the blind claim either. I don't know what the official party line is on the matter but I don't personally reckon he's blind. He certainly appears to be finding the fridge...oh there I go again...
But again, why am I the fucking bad guy? "Oh he got his legs burned at Christmas!" cry the sensitive audience members. Well why is a blind child being left to wander around a house of it's own accord turning on hot taps? If it was any other family the fucking council would get involved. But I'm the villain for puffing my cheeks out.
***deliberate naughtiness*** Surely Jordan has enough money to have pigs eyes transplanted or something? I don't know how these things work to be honest. ***deliberate naughtiness***
So, anyhow, The Comedy Box wasn't my finest hour, but I got enough off the cuff laughs to consider it a draw.
I then went on to a gig in the middle of nowhere. It was in East Harptree in Bristol and mobile phones don't work there. The gig was in a room above a beautiful pub, and was packed to the rafters with locals...a room full of people who all knew each other. If you will indulge me being 'hack' for a moment it felt like I should be standing in front of them saying "I am looking for this missing girl".
Mark Olver had booked me to do it a few weeks back, and informed me that they were a pleasure to perform to...
Now, I would take the word of any comedian with a pinch of salt at the best of times, but on this occasion Mark was telling the complete truth. They were genuinely a pleasure to stand in front of, and totally open to laughing at everything. Just determined to enjoy themselves come what may, which naturally makes the job of the comedian significantly easier and far more fun than it has any right to be. It was one of those gigs where you almost feel bad getting paid, because you probably would have paid the money yourself to have enjoyed yourself as much as you did. Please note, I did say 'almost'...before I'm asked to return the money.
Ironically, by a twist of fate, I spent the first five minutes on stage pretending to be blind (long story) without causing so much as a whiff of offence. I was acknowledged as a comedian, as a jester and mischief maker, and on those terms it is virtually impossible to cause offence. It felt like a far more grown up way for an audience to be - which considering what they were laughing at is slightly odd, but I have to say I much preffered it to the overly self-aware, middle class, slightly sneery, knee-jerking I'd encountered at my earlier gig.
Not totally cool with this blaming the audience thing, but every now and again they don't half make it hard work to be a comedian.
I feel sometimes that people do themselves no favours by being so sensitive. Just like the story on the Chortle front page about Russell Brand causing offence with his 'cancer' joke. Fair enough if you don't find something funny, but you gotta bear in mind other people perhaps do. Why should they have to only have comedy that has been vetted to your particular standards of allowability? People take us far too seriously sometimes.
I got a nice review today that kind of demonstrates this difference in certain audiences - it's HERE and is about the Cardiff gig from the other week.
I am going to go and get some sleep now as I am taking little Raji James who used to be on Eastenders on an adventure to Manchester (XS Malarkeys) - I am looking forward to it greatly, especially as I have spent the last 48 hours without sleep and swimming in receipts whilst that cunt on the tax adverts kept reminding me during every ad break that I was running out of time to get in my tax return.
Now that it is complete, I'm gonna drop the roof on my car, put my foot down, and make Raji show his "Johnny five is alive" impression to as many people in the country as possible. We are going to stop at every services on the M1 (up until the M6 turn off) and then every services on the M6 (up till Manchester).
Be sure to get there early and only one autograph and photo per person.
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