Thursday, November 04, 2010

Thursday 4 November 2010

Thursday 4 November 2010

Happily I wake up in a good and much improved mindset this morning.  I’m not exactly sure what happened within me overnight but the weight and toll of last night feels like it has been physically lifted from me.

From here I whisk through my daily preparation and soon find myself pulled together and stepping out of the door.  Even as I pass the latest rubbish bag of the Trash Humpers I resist the urge to take a hammer to their skulls (it is a thought regularly racing through my mind at the moment worryingly).  This bookend of shit won’t get me down on this day.

As I jump in the car the clock indicates that I am three minutes ahead of schedule.  Not a worry.  Beyond this the drive to the station is relatively smooth until the home straight where/when I get stuck behind a moped.  Casually and without effort I overtake it only to suddenly have it speed up and get up my behind (my arse).  Really, what is it going to do?

Not long after I am reversing into my space in the car park just as another driver is trying to drive into it.  In the end he gets out of my way.  Another small victory for this morning.

When I finally arrive onto the platform once more people are crowding my patch.  Obviously the secret has got out that it’s a good spot.  I am however not arguing with the scruffy young labourers that appear to have made it their spot also.  They out working class me.

As more and more people arrive on the spot, seemingly attempting to push me out of the way, I spot Epiphany Girl walking down the platform.  She suddenly appears to have a belly poking out of her coat.  Then I notice a “Baby On Board” badge.  She is knocked up.  How did that happen?

When the train finally arrives it is a mongrel one and with everyone around me barging their way onto the train this morning I don’t stand a hope of getting my seat today. 

Within what feels like minutes we get to Witham.  From here the train fills with more annoying fuckers with each stop.  To my left the bald cunt with scabs on his head fails to sit still all journey as he proceeds to eat his breakfast, drinks from a flask and eventually rips up his copy of the Metro to shreds.  With each move and gesture he accidentally nudges my arm, he is inhuman.  When we pass through Stratford he decides to put in his contact lenses without the aid of a mirror.  Really, can this not wait until he gets to work?  Would wearing glasses into the office really cause him to lose that much face/respect amongst his colleagues/peers?  Unsurprisingly he makes hard work of the job, the insertion of contact lenses really is a chore that requires a reflection.  Sitting opposite me is Fading Blonde who is also looking on in horror at the idiot.

As often with these things it is a relief when the train finally pulls into London.  Still the bald guy gets a last lick in as he knocks my head with the straps of his bag as he gets up to alight.  I am the human butt.

Eventually when I emerge at St Johns Wood it is now a gorgeous day.  From here as I step into the restaurant the angry boss is sat just inside with the consultant in tow.  I wasn’t expecting this guy today.  To ease the pain the angry boss makes me a cup of coffee.

From here people come in at the usual rate with The Girl eventually trotting in at 9.28AM.  Lazy.

The morning plays out with shouting coming from the other office as my boss and the angry boss appear to be at odds with one another, truly going head to head.  With this I just put my head down and get on with my own thing.

In the end today proves only slightly distracted as I manage to get a decent amount of work done.

At lunchtime I grab a penne rose.  Its average.

Into the afternoon things pan out OK and soon I am leaving and heading towards Green Park and across to Leicester Square where tonight I am seeing STEWART LEE at the Leicester Square Theatre.

Today word is that Starbucks have started doing their Christmas coffees including the Eggnog Latte and as I pass a shop on Piccadilly I spot that this is true.  Exciting times.

On the way to the theatre with time to kill I step into Waterstones in hope of finding/seeing the Answer Me This book that has been released today.  Despite my best efforts I cannot find it anywhere in the shop, its all sold out I guess.

My music discovery today is DJ Krush ten years after everybody else.  I especially like his Holonic record.  This is immense, dense and impossible to ignore.  Somehow it livens up the proceedings of my life, even to the extent that I find myself grooving in the movie section of Waterstones.  Right now I must either look like the coolest person in the store or the creepiest.

From here I head into Leicester Square Starbucks where I get my first Eggnog Latte of this Christmas.  It doesn’t begin well as immediately upon entering the shop I step into a huge lump of gum that proceeds to stick me to the floor.  Is this a sign that I should be avoiding the beverage?  An explicit gesture to hold me back and pull me away from its fatty goodness/indulgence?  Undaunted by this I purchase a venti cup and pretty much down it.  After its no show in 2008 the Eggnog Lattes have proceeded to taste better by the year.

Inevitably I wind up in Fopp where I search for DJ Krush records to no avail.  I do however wind up buying a David Axelrod CD, a Richard Pryor anthology, About A Son on DVD and a couple of William Burroughs books that are selling for £2 each.  Also as I near the counter I spot a live Trail Of Dead CD which I pick up only to have the guy at the counter advice me that it is bad.  With this we get into a brief conversation about the band where I obviously mention that they stayed at my house Action Park back in 2000.  He doesn’t appear as impressed by this as I hoped he would.  However with his friendly warning of the disc I find my faith in humanity is slightly restored.

By now time is ripe for comedy and I head straight back to the Leicester Square Theatre and into my seat for STEWART LEE.

Tonight STEWART LEE is amazing again.  Even though this represents the first time I have headed along to one of his own shows/sets, over the years I have seen him do comedy a number of times as part of various bills at various places.  It has been a long time for me.

The structure of the show is LEE doing three small sets which are basically fleshing out three episodes from his recommissioned Comedy Vehicle BBC show for next year.

He begins with charity describing how he selflessly performs at a number of such events each year without payment.  However little do we know as he more than makes up his end by stealing several packets of crisps from backstage.  With this he goes into great detail revealing his methods of taking the packets (waiting behind the bins until the other comedians have gone) before gorging himself on charity.  From here he then describes how he gives these to his grandfather, a true fan of the crisp.

Before long Russell Howard gets a mention as LEE describes his exploits, both charity and comedic.  With this LEE announces that Howard earned £4 million last year and barely can he conceal his envy.  “Why aren’t I popular like that?”  The “episode” then mutates into being about the “television character” Adrian Chiles and how the “Toby Jug filled with piss” looking nice guy is supposed to represent everyman.  With this reality we can’t help but feel short changed, maybe even offended by such representation.  Fortunately he is able to justify his role with his own charity work.

Eventually it descends with LEE reading out statistics and calculations written on the back of a fag packet before he curls up and pretends to be a disappointed African boy asking his dad why their well has not been completed.  Thankfully when it gets explained that Howard was too busy being funny on “Mock The Weak (sic)” to do charity work the starving, disease ridden kid of LEE’s construct admits there is importance in being funny.

With our hearts broken the first half of the evening comes to a close with LEE accepting that he just isn’t popular as the other comedians on TV that do charity work too.  Then he sings a song.

During the interval I think about what I have just seen.  It all makes perfect sense.

When LEE returns for the second half he opens with another song and proceeds to remain comfortably seated for the remainder of the set.  Just like granddad.  With this he goes into the final part of the set which flaws me as he reels out an “anecdote” of being at Oxford university with David Cameron and rubbing up against the Bullingdon Club.

For almost the entire duration of the session he reels off a tale that goes some long way to explaining how the Conservatives got into power.  He completely suckers us in, much in the same manner Cameron duped Nick Clegg and indeed the majority of the nation.  And all done while sat tuning and strumming an acoustic guitar (“I want to get my cut of that”).  Whatever happened to Richard Digance?  Tim Minchin totally stole his bit.

He closes the night with another song (the third of the evening) and then that is that.  At this point he is seen running through the theatre seemingly on his way out the front door however when I next spot him (for the final time) he is in the cloakroom flogging his CDs and DVDs.  Just keepin’ it real I guess.

From here I stomp to Leicester Square station and the usual route up to Holborn and then across to Liverpool Street.  It is as I step onto the escalator at Leicester Square that I spot Sam Kelly from Porridge and ‘Allo ‘Allo!  That’s a pretty decent star spot.

Eventually I wind up on the 10.30PM Norwich train where the dickhead inspector scrutinises my ticket.  Then again it probably costs what he earns in a year (well, maybe not).

As I sit down I look over to my right and recognise an old guy from a train journey two years ago.  It was one night after kickboxing when the train appeared to run aground when he bought our table a bottle of wine in one of the rarest and happiest gestures of train community that I have ever experienced in my career of commution.

At Stratford an awkward Jennifer Garner lookalike boards the train and decides to sit at our table.  She’s a rubbish distraction and she knows it.

Finally the train gets back to Colchester as I head straight to bed upon returning home.

Thursday is the new Friday.

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