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Happy Slip (Wednesday)

As I prepare for my forthcoming stand up gig on Monday I'm facing a few dilemmas. Firstly I'm going to read out a letter I wrote to my local newspaper about Jamie Oliver, the full version of which I once sent in to Viz Magazine. It goes like this:

Dear Sirs,

I notice that Jamie Oliver has started using members of his own family in some of those adverts he does for Sainsburys. What I want to know is this: are those actors or actual members of his family. If they're actors I think it's pretty bad form him diddling memebers of his own kith and kin out of a bit of easy money. If they're actual family members, that's a bit rich isn't it, stealing jobs off hardworking poorly paid thespians. Either way I think it's clear that he's a c#nt.


I thought it would be funnier to pull out a letter and read out the following:

Dear Sirs,

It has come to my attention recently that Jamie Oliver is a c#nt.

Yours Sincerely

Nick Margerrison.

Now though, I'm wondering if I should do the longer version as it'll use up more stage time. The idea of the forthcoming gig is that you need to do 5 minutes and then you have "Beat The Frog". I think I've got a good solid five minutes but whenever I read it to myself it's coming short by about a minute. Also, I've left my weakest material until the end. Here's where I come to dilemma number two.

I've got two jokes, both of them pretty weak. One of them isn't really a joke, it's a concept:

I think I've worked out why modern art is good.

All good art comes from a place deep inside you.

That's why modern art is sh#t.

Sh#t comes from deep inside you.

So, the best possible work of modern art would be a big steaming sh#t.

Now, you may do that and then think, "ah that's not very good".

Then you might try and tart it up with a little pair of glasses and a nice little shirt.

Then you'd go "there, that looks better, a little poo poo person".

But you'd be wrong.

It'd be a bit good and that would compromise the sh#te's artistic asthetic.

You'd have sold out.

It'd need to be a pure poo, uncontaminated by your stupid whims.


That will take me up to five minutes. But it's a bit odd and proabably wouldn't go down to well in one of the toughest gong nights in the North of England. That said, my other piece of material which I might do instead is the piece which got me booed off stage at Sheffield's Lescar Comedy Club. It's the infamous "Knock Knock Joke". The idea is that you kick off by berrating the audience after explaining you're going to do a "knock knock joke" for them.

Now don't f#ck up and get this wrong right?

There's no chance I can get this wrong.

I've been practicing it all night.

If anyone's going to f#ck this up it'll be you lot by not laughing in the right place...

Right, so, it's a "knock knock joke", you do know how they work don't you?

I'll go "knock knock" and then you all go ...

(...usually after a delay...) "WHO'S THERE?"

Good, bit slow.

I know you're all going to f#ck this up.

I don't even know why I'm doing it for you.

Right! Knock knock.


Doctor Who!!

Oh f#ck. (look confused) Erm..


Now, to me, that's the funniest f#cking joke in the world. When I did it at The Lescar I delivered it so badly that my flatmate of about 5 years actually said to me: "Mate, you realise you DID get that joke wrong don't you?". He wasn't joking. He actually thought I'd f#cked it up. No wonder the audience booed me. Still, I'm torn as to which bit I should do.

a) The extra Oliver bit, it lack obvious laugh points but doing it so early on in my set will extend the time I get onstage and mean I don't have to do the more risky stuff later on.

b) The little poo person bit, that's a bit of a sloppy bit which also suffers from a lack of obvious punchlines.

c) "The Knock Knock Joke", which actually worked once in London years ago but went incredibly badly last time I tried it.

Post a suggestion in the comments bit underneath. Or, if you've not got overzealous ad blocking software on your browser you can vote here:

Which bit should I do?
Extend "The Jamie Oliver Bit"
Do the Modern Art Bit
Do The f#cking Knock Knock joke baby, it rocks!
Free polls from

That way I can blame or praise you when it goes either badly or well.


(Tuesday) Automaton

So, today it was announced at work that I will be leaving Hallam FM towards the end of April. I'd best not really comment on that any further at the moment other than to wish my successors all the best. Now you know what this entry was about.

At the moment I'm not sure what I'll be doing next. I promise to post more up here when I know for certain.

In the meantime here's a video of the old phone-in show which I recently posted on YouTube:

The direct link is here.


Preparing for the burst possible situations.

Here's today's Monday Dog...

I'm not sure if this is cheating or not. It's Dog Top Trumps. My girlfriend got me it for Valentine's Day. The stats for the different dogs are ace. Obviously you've got average weight and height but then there's; "guard dog skill", "rarity" and finally, most genius of all, "loveability". We played it over candlelight in a resteraunt with a bottle of wine and some nice food. The game lasted for ages. I won in the end. Nick wins. Etc.

I've had quite an active and productive day today. I spent most of it practicing my stand up comedy. I'm thinking of posting up my material here, in advance of its performance. Then I'm realising that's a stupid idea and going back to practicing it. This cycle has continued for most of the day.

I was listening away to my routine on my MP3 player while in the gym. Then I was reciting it out loud as I wandered round Tescos. And singing it to myself as I drove home.

My email exchanges with the boss of the club got a bit worrying today:

-----Original Message-----
From: nick margerrison [mailto:**************]
Sent: 26 February 2007 15:44
To: ******************
Subject: Re: Beat The Frog Monday 4th December


Just checking you haven't forgotten about me next week. Open spot at The Frog And Bucket. Very excited about it.


To which she replied:

not forgotten. will confirm with you next week.
Oh dear. Last time we talked we were all set to go. Now I think theres a bit of a crossed wires situation going on. Probably nothing but it's a bit worrying. Also, it's not entirely clear if I've got the night off on Monday or not. I think I have but they've not replied to my double check email. I'll have to call and check tomorrow.

I think it's obvious I'm nervous about it.

That's good though.


Likk the reflex

Getting really nervous about my forthcoming open spot at The Frog and Bucket. I'm going to send a little email to them just to check they've not forgotten about me. I'm going to try and re-programme myself as well. I'm going to treat my nerves as a positive thing. They're a sign I'm taking it seriously. It's very important to take comedy seriously. Oh dear.

I remember once going into a radio station, Kestrel FM I think it was. Anyway I had the following brain mashing conversation with a woman there:

Me: "I love radio though becuase at the end of the day it's just a bit of a laugh isn't it?"
Her:"Yes, it's a laugh. But it's a very serious laugh."

That still messes with my head. She really didn't appreciate the irony. To her a laugh was a totally different concept. It was a concept that had a gravitas and weight which I was totally unaware of. That tells a big story, to me, about the sort of person she was. It's a profound expression of her world. Quite a bleak expression of it I guess.

A serious laugh?



Pun and Jud (Saturday)

After the phone call I got on Thursday* it's ironic that tonight I spent the night in a bar in Manchester sinking pints with the legendary talkshow host James Stannge. It was honestly by co-incidence that I just happened to bump into him, I've only met him a few times before and it wasn't planned. He just happened to be in the same bar I was and we got chatting.
He was on fine form though. Full of beans and as amusing as he ever was on air. It was like listening to one of his classic shows. We spoke mainly about radio but also covered all the other stuff in the world that you might want to chat about. I was excited to see that he was sporting a nice beard a little bit like mine and even more excited by the fact that when he talks to you he rants, just like he used to on air, pointing his fingerin a manic fashion.

They say you should never meet your heroes and I think that's true for some of them, yesterday Ricky Gervais was at Hallam FM and after debating it for a while I decided not to go in to work and meet him just because he'd only be a dissapointment. James Stannage however I already knew was the real deal. He's on 100% all the time. I think the local TV station Channel M are missing a trick by not getting him on to do some sort of debating show. He's an awesome orator and a big name in Manchester, why not use him?

Talking of Channel M* here's the fantastic test card footage which Frank Sidebottom provides. Very amusing.

I watched this crap for about an hour. Genius.


*I'll explain the contents of that call later, maybe in a month or so... The entry for that page is already written and ready to go it's just not going to be published until I know exactly whats what. Which currently I do not.

**Sorry, this is a very Manchester centric post. Wikipedia on Stannage here. Channel M is a local TV station, my mate works on it. Well, my girlfriend's mate, but I'd like to think we're friends as well.

(Friday) Bloddy wobby

I went to see the fantastic Hot Fuzz starring Simon Pegg. It was amazing. Truely amazing. I expected it to be a good film but I didn't expect it to be quite as good as it is. Within an hour after viewing it me and my mate were debating if it was better than "Shaun Of The Dead". As little as two hours later we were quoting it in the sort of annoying fashion which we really should have grown out of by now. And the next day we were all debating when we were going to see it agian.

It'll annoy me if you don't go and see it, so do. Go and see it.

Currently I'm starting to get nervous about my forthcoming performance at The Frog And Bucket. It's a gong show and there's every possibility that I'll be a f#cking pile of dogsh#te again but this time I'm strangely confident that I'll do okay. This is, I think, a bad sign because every time I'm confident it goes really badly whereas everytime I'm not, it goes slightly less badly.

My plan is to post it up here, regardless of how well it goes*. This means you will be treated to some awful camera phone footage of me looking nervous and making a tw#t of myself with jerky pictures and terrible sound. And odd jokes. I mean, really quite surreal jokes. The Gandhi thing at the bottom of this weblog really was some of my stand up set until recently. You'll notice it has no jokes in it whatsoever. Here's a genuine quote from my mate Toby Foster who watched my first ever gig, "put some f#cking gags in next time". I'm honestly trying to follow that advice. You'll actually see the results next week.


* Right, I'm committed now. No matter what this has got to be a well rehearsed gig. No matter what. Screw this blog, I'm off to practice.

Went to the gym.

Got a dissapointing brief phone call. With quite significant implications.


Smooth flow

It confuses me that so many people have watched my Shrinking Man video via my Myspace account. I don't use the thing at all. I occasionally click "YES" to add a new friend but that really is it. I only know how to upload videos because I used it as an alternative site to store a very slushy video I made for my girlfriend for Valentine's day. Didn't want to inflict it on my You Tube subscribers so I posted it up there. Then oddly it started getting loads of viewers. So I removed it.

I don't know if the friends I've got on there are real friends either. Some of them are, then there's a few who I'm not sure I know. They asked if I wanted to be friends and I said yes. Why not? Madness. I think some of them have come via the Shrinking Man thing which I entered into a compettition for a joke. There's no chance it'll win, it's not good enough.

Anyway it amused me today to discover that my mate in the real world, Matt Mackay, now has his own myspace site. It's here. Although we're friends in the real world and although it has an old picture of me sleeping on it, I'm not one of his friends in the myspace world yet. I don't know how to do it so I'll just have to wait and see if he asks me to be his friend. Or whatever. Madness.

I don't really like myspace and I haven't properly entered into the spirit of it yet. It still seems like a very sh#te idea. What can you do on it that you can't do on blogger?

My mate James Piekos was talking to me about this Second Life thing. That sounds good. A whole world to explore. That said, I waste enough time sat infront of this thing. I'm off to do something like read a book or something.


(Tuesday) for a hamburger today.

I've said it before on here and I'll say it again, Lee and Herring were not a great double act. They were good but not great. Both of them are producing far better work now they're apart than they ever did while they were together, in my humble opinion. However, it's exciting that they re-formed for the Ted Stock* thing recently and it's even more exciting that there is You Tube footage of the event...


Direct link.


Direct link.

Introducing them onto the stage is Simon Munnery. I've seen him twice and he's brilliant. Once in Manchester and once in Edingburgh. I've got a poster of him on the side of my bookshelf. That's how f#cking into him I am. Stick that up your nose.


I'm a comedy nerd. It's not going to help me when I'm onstage the week after next though is it?


*A benefit concert for the comedian Ted Chippington. Can't say I was ever into him myself. Can't say I was ever even aware of him myself. However there's a good post here by Harvey The Pooka about him. Check it out.

(Monday) adness

Here is today's Monday Dog:

It was spotted by my flatmate Matt Mackay while he was out and about shopping in Chelsea. It's hard to tell if the dog is outside and Matt was inside or visa versa. If the dog was outside then what a great example of how brilliant dogs are, it was prepared to wait loyally outside in the cold. Brilliant. If not though and the dog was inside, surely that's another example of how brilliant dogs are. Look at him waiting inside, guarding the shopping centre. Brilliant.

If you're not yet conviced that dogs are brilliant why not try watching this video of a bulldog who likes skateboarding? How can that not be brilliant? How?

Direct link.


(Sunday) Wacky funster in a fun

I've uploaded another video to You Tube. This one is pretty self explanatory.

These things are so much fun to make it's confusing me. I don't know why I'm getting such a kick out of doing them. There's no money in it. They're not particularly outstanding. They just give you an instant buzz, knowing that they're out there. The one of me storming out of the studio during the talkshow has even been stolen and posted up on rival sites outside of You Tube.

The thing I love about the internet is that it's just at that stage where it's almost, but not quite, the mainstream. It's not yet been b#ggered up by the fatheads and the alpha males of this world. They don't understand it yet. I like to think they never will.

Don't know if that makes sense.


(Saturday) Pow wow, not logic

Old friends and rubbish dieting habits.

A mate of mine who used to share a flat with us popped up this weekend. It was great to see him. We went to The Last Laugh Comedy Club at Ponds Forge and watched some comedians there after having a few cheeky beers in our local. Unfortunately I totally f#cked my diet in. Not good. It's so easy to make rubbish excuses to yourself like, "oh I've not seen Wootus for ages, I may as well have another pint, sod the diet, this is a special occasion".

We got back late and farted around a bit on an Arcade Emulator which I don't think they were quite as impressed with as I was. When we got back the girls logged onto a celebrity gossip site and discovered Britney Spears had shaved all her hair off. The video is on YouTube, in the unlikely event you've not seen it yet I've posted it at the bottom of this entry.

"I don't want anyone touching me, I'm tired of everyone touching me".

She's been quoted as saying some quite odd things when she went in to have her hair done. To most people it sounds like the ramblings of a fool but to someone who had just seen a comedian (who's name escapes me) babbling on about the New World Order it sounded oddly aposite to me.

The problem with conspiracy theory bullsh#t is once you've got involved in it, it's hard to escape seeing echoes of it all around you. Everything is a conspiracy to the people who propagate this stuff. EVERYTHING. Even pop music and popstars. The idea goes something like this; people like Madonna and Britney Spears are illuminati sex slaves who are granted their fame in exchange for various awful acts of obediance. Now obviously, that's bullsh#t. The thing is, after a few pints I was confused and unusually drawn in as I watched Britney looking dazed in a hair shop in America, committing an act of self mutilation. Her quotes sounded, to me, like someone who was a victim of something more than just the pressures of fame and fortune.

Unfortunetly having scoured the internet including I can find no loony tuney nutter to spout forth theories about how the shape changing lizards from the future have their claws in poor little Britney. I guess that leaves me with the sadder truth that people do just lose it and crack. Shame.

However, while I was looking through the net I did find a great picture of Helen Mirren's weird 'masonic style' tattoo that I noticed last week:

Now I ask you, what the f#ck is that about? I don't know if you can see the simmilarity between the two, perhaps I'm just being paranoid. That said, it struck me like a thunderbolt when I saw it in "Heat" magazine last week. They didn't mention the fact it's a masonic symbol in "Heat" though so perhaps I am being paranoid. Actually, I think I am. That's one of the side effects of reading into stupid conspiracy theories.

In interviews she claims she got it done when she was p#ssed one night. You know, for a big laugh. Brilliant.


(Friday) Sh-naff-too!

I'm not a massive fan of email forwards but these are pretty good. My mate Johnathon Slater sent me them. They're supposed to be genuine exam papers. You can never guarantee these things are genuine but I remember putting things like this in my exam entries:

This kid was obviously the class clown. Why else would the teacher put "very funny, Peter". It's the ultimate teacher device. Call you by your name. Not "Very funny" but "very funny, Peter". Lovely stuff.

Lovely, this exam paper tells a story. I reckon they should have got a mark for wit at least.

I would check to see it had a vagina!

Then, in my own travels around You Tube, I found this awesome video:

Direct link.


(Thursday) They only meen fear.

Tommy Cooper was a genius. For some reason he's been having a mini-comeback in my house recently and I've been bombarding the brains of both James "works on Viking FM" Piekos and Matt "Phoneboy" Jagger with my Tommy Cooper DVD this week.

Phoneboy's comments were a mixture of confusion and "nowadays he'd get booed off stage if he tried all this rubbish". He enjoyed a bit of it here and there but, I think overall he wasn't impressed.

James's responses were equally mixed: "is he p#ssed? He looks to me like he's p#ssed".

I'm not saying they didn't enjoy the odd joke here and there but they weren't blown away. Not at all. I find it hard to convert people to him actually. I personally found he was one of those comedians with whom you sort of have a click moment where you suddenly start to find everything they do funny. It's quite rare but, with me, it happens sometimes with comedians. I just suddenly feel like I dig where they're at. Or something.

The thing is, it's not a case of people 'not understanding' Tommy Cooper. What is there to understand? He does a joke, it's silly, everyone laughs. I've learned to move on from such experiences these days. It just wrankles a bit when people don't find the same things funny.

Direct link here.

Direct link here.

Direct link here.

Cross your finger for my Philip. I love my Mrs Baby.

Crack a can and bust out a blog

It's been a long and stressful day. I had two quite important radio people to meet today. We discussed various things. As a consequence I'm exhausted. It was interesting to meet them and be in a fairly formal position where I was talking about how and why I do what I do for a living. I'm now sat infront of the computer screen with a beer on the go. Does that make me and alcoholic? Drinking on your own is supposed to be a sign. I'm only having one though. But that's how it starts Nicholi. Right, sure, but it's not a problem is it? I mean, I'm just having one beer. Pah, you say that now, but what when you're looking down at a pool of your own vomit wondering if you should drink it in order to get the alcohol back into your system?* What? That's disgusting! Precisely. How long until you disgust yourself with that sort of behaviour? I would never do that. I'd just go get another beer, if I felt the need. You say that now. Yes, yes I do say that now. I say that now because it's true. Dirty.

Taxi drivers are ace.

I've always liked taxi drivers** and if there's one positive about my car being f#cked it's the fact that I'm now forced to get taxis at night. I've not paid my fare once. They're all nice as pie, know who I am and have nothing but good things to say about my old talkshow. What distinguished tonight's ride was that the bloke listened to and liked what I do nowadays as well. That was a bonus. It's been a f#cking drag getting over that phone in show and it's nice to feel that might slowly be happening now. It was almost too successful. Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed doing it and I was probably in many ways its biggest fan. I love hearing callers on air. I always have. It just had to end when it did. Also I needed to earn a living afterwards. And Hallam FM needed a late show. What do you do? Try and do a good music show. It just spent a good year in the shadow of that phone in. Hey ho.

I'm amazing! Oh, no I'm not. Ruined.

Myspace are organising a big compettition to find a director who deserves a £1 million pound budget. I've entered one of my films and I think it's f#cking obvious that I'm going to win. Once I get my one million pound budget I'm going to get as many people together as I can and f#ck off to Amsterdam for the weekend. Amazing eh? You are more than welcome to join me when I win all the money.

The film I've entered is here. They're sure to love it. The sl#gs.


* True story. A caller once told me that was the point when she decided to get help for her alcoholism. How hardcore is that? She was a great caller. Genuinely inspiring.

** For proof of this claim check out the following posts: here, an old blog entry, look how short my blog entries used to be! Not surprising really I had no f#cking readers back then. Also here, a place where the obscure blog title drove loads of wacky pervs to this site for a bit. If you only click on one of these links make sure it's this one. It's the infamous taxi driver shirt story. Almost everyone I know uses this story to define my attitude towards sartorial discernment. F#ck me, here's a video I posted of a taxi driver. I've got a problem.

(Tuesday) The Star Niche problem arises once again. Why do they keep on at that? I'm not going to change my opinion on it. 2 + 2 will always be 4.

That's me looking fat underneath a boot. The reason I'm underneath a boot is explained here. They want photos of 100 people with boots on their head. Send one of yourself in and you too can look like a c#nt. Brilliant.

I think "This Is a Knife" is a great programme, it's a web TV thing that you get sent to your 'puter every week. It's in the sidebar on the left hand side of this blog. I was happy to put my head under a boot for it. Mind control. They've got me. Amazing really.

The question is, have I got you? Are you going to send them a picture of a boot, not becuase you like them but because you like me? Via this blog will they get anyone sending them a picture of a boot? I'm not sure that's the point of the exercise but it's interesting to ponder isn't it. Leave a comment if you do take a picture of yourself with a boot on your head and send them it. I'd be intrigued to know if any of this blog's readers are as stupid as the person who writes it.

Somehow I doubt it. By the looks of things my readership is largely responsible office workers. Peak time on this blog is 1pm nowadays. That's when they're all here. If you're reading around then there's more than a few of you. If you've logged on to read it at night, you're alone. You're some weirdo with an unhealthy interest in me. But if you're on during the day you're probably on your lunch break being entertained as you eat a sandwich or something. Brilliant.

Actually, judging the standard of this entry I think "entertained" is a bit of a stretch.

Look at that photo. What a f#cking mess my room is there. Train ticket lying on the floor. A towel sat on the floor as well. Madness. Two big fat unshaven chins. Disgusting.


Scrub up the truth baby

So, I went to see Ricky Gervais tonight, fully expecting it to be totally f#cking shit, like the picture above. We were sat on the front row and as a consequence had a great view. Close enough to spit on him, if we'd wanted to. Not that we did, he was brilliant! One of the best stand-up sets I've ever seen. He was ill, with flu, but still the material shone through and the delivery was good. I think being ill made him push himself.

I put my camera phone to good use and managed to take the above picture. Unfortunately it's a crap camera phone and the picture has no face, lucky then that I'm a master of digital enhancement technologies! Using modern digital photo re-touching techniques I've improved the image and printed a better version of it at the bottom of this post*. It's amazing what can be done these days!

Here's a better one of him coming on stage with a big sign in the background telling everyone what his name is.

And here's a phone video I took of his "spectacular" entrance:

You can hear my girly laugh exactly 6 seconds into the video. It really was very exciting.

I also taped a bit of his performance but to be honest it's not even worth posting it up. You can't really hear him properly and it'd ruin it if you're going to get the DVD, which I suggest you do. Honestly, not a foot wrong. Great night.


Here's today's Monday Dog:It's one of the many on my phone but I can't remember how on exactly it got there. I think someone sent me it on bluetooth, maybe my sister or my girlfriend. Not sure. Good picture though. Good because it's of a dog. He's hiding under a bench. Aren't dog's clever? Yes, yes they are.


* Here's the enhanced Ricky Gervais photo. This sort of digital restoration would not have been possible a few years ago:

(Sunday) Badass trucker from the moolan rouge

Yesterday I spent an absolute fortune on nothing. The cheapest thing about the whole night was the taxi fare home; £15. We went to some resteraunt in Manchester called The Living Room. It was awful. It cost a fortune. The irony is that the food which cost so much is now flying out of my backside like water from a tap*. There was an awful vibe there. People dressed up like c#nts sniffing round trying to suss out who was the "alpha" and so forth. A real first class nightmare of a place. My flatmate Matt Mackay at one point quite perceptively noted about me that "he's all quiet, that means he's not enjoying himself". He was right. I've decided it's best not to talk in such situations, I'd just end up slagging off every f#cking waste of space jumped up pr#ck there was in the room and then start wondering why we were perpetuating their bullsh#t by attending such a venue. That sort of rant tends to ruin people's fun.

It's a shame really because the night had got off to a great start. There I was sat watching some rubbish mainstream TV programme called "When will I be famous" hosted by Graham Norton. People were doing their act and then being judged by fat f#ckwitted housewives and the like. I had a glass of wine on the go and my usual habit of slagging off everything that came on screen was in full flow; "pah, Graham Norton really has sold out and turned into an utter tw#t hasn't he?". Then suddenly Beardy Man** popped up and started laying down some phat tasty beats for everybody. It was amazing. There he was, smack bang in the middle of this mainstream programme. What a legend!

Direct link.

Shame life isn't always like that. The only thing that made it worth going out was the company. Surely we could have all just stayed in and watched telly instead?


*Hot water. Which stings. Yuk. I'll leave that there.

** Beardy Man is the beatbox guy at the bottom of this entry.

(Saturday) Kish and kiff

It's last night. I'm sat having a conversation with some of Jodie's mates about this 'n' that. Woo, I need the toilet. Off I pop to the toilet. As I'm on my way some middle class looking girl follows me. She looks a bit drunk and excited by the world but I pay her no note until she crouches down and squeezes my calfs adding "woo, are these your legs, woo!".

"She's going to feel pretty silly in a moment when she realises I'm not whoever she thought I was and we don't actually know each other," goes my internal monologue. So I turn round and pull a face that says "ha, what a silly mistake you just made, I'm someone you've never met before". But she's totally unrepentant and just giggles and smiles at me. So I just carry on to the toilet thinking how odd that she didn't say anything. Then she does it again. Now I'm totally out of my depth and a little scared. What if she's going to try and steal my wallet. How will she react when she realises I don't have a wallet? She's obviously mad. Bloody hell.

I keep my cool and say "yep, jolly good, it's all happening isn't it?*" and then get to the toilet and shut the door. What the f#ck was that about? Madness. She'd gone when I made my way back to my girlfriend having been unusually successful at the urinal.

What's particularly noteworthy about the whole thing is that the very fact she looked nice and middle class is what stopped me from telling her to "f#ck off you silly old cow". When I walked to work recently I had a simmilar encounter with my prejudices. I usually give a short shrift to beggars but when a hippy type middle class woman pierced my MP3 bubble on Thursday with the "oh no, I've not got enough money for my bus fare" I gave her a quid without thinking. She'll have been pulling that trick all night probably but the fact that she looked like a middle class woman and not a scumbag druggie was in her favour.

I don't know if it makes me a bad person but it does make me sexist and class prejudicial. Ruined.


*Anyone who knows me will know this is unfortunately exactly the sort of thing I say all the time to people who I'm attempting to dismiss.

Under the nails and over the sky.

For some reason whenever I have a shower I find it oddly pleasing to sing either "Let's Twist Again" by Chubby Checker OR "Feed The Birds" off of that Mary Popping film. This has become so stylised over the years that my versions don't really bear much of a resemblance to the originals. Particularly my rendition of "Feed The Birds", that's just gone horribly wrong over the years. Still as it's a friday I thought I'd share these two little oddities with you. Try singing along. It's good for ya!

Direct link.

Direct link.

Well done everybody.


Frail fraid world. (Thursday)

Last time I walked in to work I managed to annoy myself by seeing one of those adverts with the two blokes off Peep Show. You had the 'geeky square' one holding a sign saying "I'm a PC" and the irresponsible but cool one holding the "I'm a Mac" sign. The advert doesn't make any sense. If you get a computer do you want one that's geeky, a bit square and as a consequence very reliable or do you want one that's likely to be found snorting coke off the bathroom floor after a failed mushroom sex party?

The whole debate, PC vs Mac, stinks of the old, Amiga vs Atari ST, debate which was also b#llcoks because Amiga's were clearly better. Unless you owned an Atari ST in which case you thought they were better*. I think what annoys me about Apple Macs is that they're too cool for their own good. They look cool but aren't compatible with loads of things. And blogger lacks a load of features on the Mac as well. And you can't get Cool Edit Pro on it.

You can imagine the meeting where they will have decided which character should be a PC and which should be a Mac:

"Right, so, these guys are in Peep Show. Very hot at the moment, Ricky Gervais likes it so it's uber hot guys, uber f#cking hot".

"Okay, so which one should be the Mac and which one should be the PC".

"Jesus, what a stupid question. One of them is a geek, one of them is cool. what are we if we're not cool?"

Sends a shiver down my spine.

The point I'm trying to make though is that if a large part of your argument is that Apple Macs are "cool" you've lost my attention from the start. Also, what the f#ck's the deal with two of the most exciting comedians in the UK doing an advert? That used to be seen as selling out. Am I just an old codger from the 1980's? I think I am.

Don't get me wrong though, not all adverts are rubbish. If you want a good advert here's one, it's for Cheese. It's a live stream which allows you to watch Cheese maturing. It's very exciting around 10am in the morning when they turn the cheese over. If you're reading this at 10am click now, if not, maybe still 'click' but not with the same sense of urgency.

I'm going to walk in to work again today; no car and it's good exercise. Also it's dark so I'll not be able to see any rubbish adverts. But I might get mugged. Ruined.


*Even though you were wrong, and you f#cking knew it as well, you sl#gs. You used to just say you thought the ST was better to annoy people like me.

The big meeting

I could have died last week. My car is f#cked, really seriously f#cked. Not at all roadworthy. That's why today I went to Pizza Hut and ate loads of Pizza today. Naughty! But I can't get to Weight Watchers tonight because I haven't got a car, it failed it's MOT and now I need to wait until I get my new one.

In order to be able to afford a car I went in and got a loan out before I went to Pizza Hut. I borrowed money off a woman whose turn of phrase reminded me slightly of the under rated comedy character Shirley Ghostman. It annoyed me slightly to go through all the usual b#llocks about "do you want a new account, pension scheme, insurance, etc, etc, etc". It annoyed me even more when I worked out how much the loan was going to cost me; £1000. Still, it's the only way I can afford a new car.

Then came the ultimate irony. As I walked back up the hill to my house I realised I did actually regret eating at Pizza Hut. The food weighed heavy on my stomach and I felt fat. Ruined. I don't usually regret such indulgences. How annoying.

Here's another video I made ... I really want this one to be seen by loads of people because it's got a fantastic "special effect" in it*!

Direct link.


*The bit where he shrinks.

Smoke it straight.

Today I've spent most of my time trying to sort out some of the stuff I've been working on recently with old clips of the phone in show. It's been a long and, to be honest, quite odd day. Last night I went round to Daryl Denham's house and ended up staying in his spare room after nailing a fair few glasses of Baileys. Not good for the diet. I really will be in trouble tomorrow. Particularly given the fact we're supposed to go to Pizza Hut as well.

Still I feel that today I've reached a real milestone!

So much so that I took a picture of it:

How odd, there it was. A milestone telling me that in one direction lay Huddersfield, 23 1/2 miles away. That and "Holmfirlin(?)" which was 18 miles. Or, if I wanted, I could go the other way, to Sheffield. Seemed like a better option, it was only 3 miles away.

Clearly all of this happened on Sheffield Road. I think.

I've never seen a milestone in a place like that though. I always think of them as being the sort of thing you see in the countryside. But there it was. Surely it's there for decorative purposes? It wasn't serving a practical purpose anymore. There are big roadsigns all around there now.

Wondered how long it had sat there, at what point it had become oboslete and when anyone was going to notice it again. Would it be more trouble to move it than to leave it there or did the people concerned think it was a nice little reminder of the past. I dunno. But I took a picture of it because I wanted it to get a bit of recognition for the sterling and thankless task it fulfills every day. Poor little thing.


(Monday) Blow the cobwebs from your mind

So, here's today's Monday Dog:And the letter which came with it:

Hey Nick
This is a picture of my dog Billy, a bedlington terrier. This is a picture of his good side, it being the only side that has an ear. Most people would find that position uncomfortable, but Billy regulary used to sleep with his a#se higher than his head, nowadays however he prefers to scrunch half his blanket up and use it as a pillow.

I also feel I should point out that Billy doesn't share your opinion that all dogs are ace, he attempts to attack any dog that comes anywhere near him regardless of their size, breed or his chances of surviving said encounter. He does however feel that his Uncle Bobby (a westie) is ace.


Wicked! I think Billy looks like a smashing dog. Shame he's missing an ear. I saw a dog once which was missing a leg. It wasn't bothered though. One thing I like about dogs is their lack of any real sense of shame.

Today I have been told that my old car is so f#cked it'd cost more to fix it than to buy a new one. As a consequence I'm off to the bank in a minute where I'm going to try and get a big fat loan. Then I'll buy a new car, the one my Dad tells me looks good.

Well done everybody.


(Sunday) Nice to have a break from that wacky world.

So, as usual over the weekend I made another YouTube video. I also stumbled over a f#cking awesome beatbox bloke whom I've added to the bottom of this post. Firstly here's my video. It's got some very primative animation in there which I did using paintbox and posting each frame individually into Windows Movie Maker. There must be an easier way than that... webheads? Surely someone must know how to do animation easily and without paying money? Anyone?

Finally my amazing quiz thing has been answered. Click here to see what I'm talking about. I'm going to do another one soon, just not quite yet. I liked the idea of doing a quiz. It was good wasn't it?

Right, anyway, here's my video that I made. It's a little bit rubbish and I have to admit that this is old stand up material which I have seriously performed to bemused and confused, audiences up and down The North Of England. You'll notice that it's not very funny. That's why I'm using the prefix "old", I've stopped doing stuff that is obviously not funny now and started trying to give people something to laugh at.

Direct link here. It's already had 3 viewers. It's a YouTube smash hit!

Here's the beatbox guy:

Direct link here.

And here is a video made by a mate of mine, Phil Tarry:

Direct link. In fact if you follow that link you'll see how many hits he's had. 15,930 at the last count. I think the more hits he gets the better, it's some sort of compettition. So watch it a few times.


Post traumatic shock. (Saturday)

I don't know particularly what different makes of car look like. For example, a BMW, or a Jaguar, or a Renault, most people can picture those cars if you just say the brand name. I however look off into the distance blankly without so much as a clue as to the cars they denote.
I'd be totally useless in a crime scene thing, where they ask what make of car it was that the robbers drove off in. My ignorance exposed I'd just have to shrug and say, "it was a sort of purple, blue sort of colour?".

I'm not a "proper fella" then. A "proper fella" not only knows all this sort of stuff but they're also able to convincingly lift up the front bonnett and look all serious while touching things a bit when the car breaks down on the motorway. I've worked out that's all they do. A "proper fella" usually has no more idea than me how a car actually works but they can often look like they're seriously investigating when they need to. The end result is always the same; call the AA. It's just that "proper fellas" then go on to stand next to the AA man and make funny noises as they explain what's gone wrong with the car.

In some instances I'm quite proud of my ignorance. A little bit like someone who pointedly doesn't watch Big Brother and then takes pleasure in not knowing "who the f#ck" someone who featured in it is when they pop up on celebrity squares. Unlike most of the rest of the viewing public I watched The Big Brother final and didn't even think of watching that little lad who was in a car crash on the other channel*.

I even forget what make of car I actually drive when people ask me. Although this is a symptom of my total lack of interest in the real world I like the fact it sort of shows that I don't use my car as a status symbol and hopefully I never will. I've always thought that was an awful game to get caught up in. Worrying about who has the coolest car. That, surely, is the sort of thing c##ts worry about?

Today though I was looking at cars with my Dad. Given that I've got no idea about them, none whatsoever, I can't tell you what sort of car we liked and decided to buy but it wasn't too expensive and I should have it by the end of the week. On Monday I'll know if my current motor has passed its MOT. Probably not. I'll have to repeat my previous act when I go in to collect it.


* Giant 12 year old; Richard Hammond.

Make it stop.

Urrgh. I spent hours last night watching stupid You Tube videos. Firstly I found this great bit of nonsense from Rik Mayall:

Direct link.

Then there's this beauty, Jo O'Mera from S Club 7 suffering from post traumatic stress disorder from what I can make out:

Direct link.

Listen to what the poor girl is saying and remember The Stanford Prison Experiment which I posted up here some time ago. That experiment was deemed to be unethical by the U.S. Government! Those people who run Guantanamo, those f#ckers. Madness.

Here's the aftermath of an interview with Jade Goody, the main interview seems to keep getting deleted. Perhaps it's too harsh to watch?

Direct link.

The irony though is this. Jade Goody has been a bully for all her life. It's what made her famous. For some reason people had forgotten that. If I remember correctly there was some sort of violent threat made by her on her initial outing on Big Brother. Then there's stories like this about her bullying childhood. Ironic then that her tempers and bullying increased when she went on the show Back To Reality, which no one seems to have watched. Here's her picking on another easy target, Rick Waller:

Direct Link.

Then the aftermath where she giggles and enjoys the thrill she gets from kicking her victim about:

Direct link.

How did she get rewarded for this behaviour? More money power and influence. Listen to f#ckwit Uri Geller "is this her usual character"? He can't believe it! Then, best of all, Rik Waller apologises! YouTube search for "Back to reality" if you want to see the incident that kicks it off, but trust me when I say she's in the wrong.

Embarrasing to watch really. The perfect way to waste your life.


F#cking, f#cking, f#cking, f#cking hell. I can't believe this week.

Today I was told that my radio show had put on 1000's of new listeners in the RAJAR survey they carry out every quarter. That's a good thing. The music show I currently do will never get the same sort of profile that the talkshow used to get but it's a good show and I like to think it's one of the better commercial radio shows out there. It's also how I earn my living so it's nice to know people are tuning in, more than they do for my compettitors.

My mate James came over in the evening and we went out for a Chinese. This time I didn't try and match his intake; I'd learned my lesson from the last time. However, I did break my diet and that's not good so early on in the week. Yesterday I got weighed and they said I'd lost 1.5lbs but I was wearing my thin trousers. That's not good. I always loose in my thin trousers. The gym scales today told a different story. "You've put it on, you fatty," that's what they rudely announced to my eyes.

I just need to get through this week without going mad and then on weds next go uber hardcore on the diet front.

I'm not sure I can reasonably justify the above sentence. If you analyse it yourself you'll notice it's utter nonsense.


F#cking, f#cking, f#cking hell. Bad things come in threes, right?

For various reasons recently I've been listening back to old audio of the phone-in show I used to do on Hallam FM. In my travels through the past I keep bumping into audio that while good, isn't the sort of thing I'm looking for. This video is cut around one such call. It's a great conversation with a bloke about speed cameras. Lee in Swinton is his name. He's an example of the sort of caller I used to love getting. He's intelligent and knows what the show is about. He's comfortable in his own skin on the air and an example of why that show used to work so well in Yorkshire.

If that's not worked then the direct link is here.


F#cking, f#cking hell!

Here is today's Monday dog*:

It's Louis The Labradoodle! He was a very friendly young dog that me and my girlfriend met as we were wandering round South Manchester. these pictures run in sequence as the owner of the dog tried to get Louis to pose for me. It's an odd thing asking dog owners to allow me to take their dog's picture but I love that most of them not only conset but totally understand. They don't question my motives, they know dogs are ace. All dog owners know dogs are ace.

Louis has seen something interesting and is off. Maybe he's seen a cat or something. More likely he's seen some food.

Louis has been reposed and as you can see, he's not happy about it. The first picture was fine anyway but I didn't realise I'd taken it at the time so I messed Louis and his owner about for no reason, in the street on a busy Saturday. Ruined.


*Late again, not because of a lack of dog pictures but due to the fact that I'm a disorganised fool who isn't really using his time properly at the moment. I've been sorting out real life stuff rather than getting on with this blog. I am a fool.

F#cking hell.

I remember when I first started in radio I landed a gig at Oak FM. I was really excited to get the job. I was a radio DJ! Brilliant. They paid me £10k a year, self employed and I thought I'd made it.

I moved in with a bloke called Andy Smith who had a room going to rent. The station itself was quite a small station and I was doing evenings. Well, 6pm - 12 midnight. I also had to programme the overnights and do some other things during the day. I couldn't afford a car so I used to go to and from work on my little push bike locking up the building as I left.

They had a promotional campaign where they stuck up pictures of the new DJs in cinemas and around the area. This was really effective and it meant that people would come up to you in the street and recognise you. I didn't know how to deal with this at all and it gave me a lifelong dislike of DJ promo shots. Not because they'd say anything bad but just because it's impossible for me to relax in that situation.

"Hey! You're a radio DJ!"

"Um.. uh, yeh. Hello."

"Will you sign my bus ticket?"

Nowadays I'm a lot more relaxed about these things but back then it was a bit of a head f#ck.

As regards radio I really didn't have a clue. I'd come straight from the world of student radio and had no idea that in the commercial radio world too much talking was considered a bad thing. I'd banter away take calls and generally mess about, for 6 hours every night. It wasn't the best show in the world. It wasn't a very happy time either. There was an enormous ammount of pressure in the building as people watched the promises that a new station brings to a local area turn into foul smelling bullsh#t. I seem to absorb these things like a sponge and my weight ballooned as I ate take away every night comfort eating my way through an awful experience.

I couldn't understand why I didn't gel with anyone (apart from one or two) there and the whole thing seemed to be spiralling out of control. Added to that I had no confidence in my own abilities. As far as I was concerned I was the worst DJ ever to hit the airwaves. I'd listen to other "super hot jocks" and feel like the most useless c#nt in the world.

After three months I got fired as they overhauled the entire station resuffling everything. It was an immense relief. I couldn't wait to get home and leave this awful industry I'd somehow gotten involved in.

Things picked up a week later when I got a gig at The Bay in Lancaster where I actually did some good radio and got a big audience. The moral of the story is that sometimes bad things are actually good for you in the long run. No matter how bad things get in my career, and I've had rough patches since, I always think to myself, "well at least I'm not back at Oak FM".


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