17.12.09
To dream – perchance to sleep
Dreams are normally only interesting to the person who dreamed them – so keeping it short…
Me, Josie long (who I know only very very slightly) plan a stand up gig underground in a tube tunnel. It looks great – though a bit terrifying. We put chairs out – I come up with the funniest joke in the world…
Q: What’s a leotard?
A: A person with learning difficulties who’s into astrology.
Not bad for a dream – though Jimmy Carr did a joke about uni-tards being one-legged mentals or something similar so half a point.
But – that’s not even the joke – no – the joke is –and bear with me, as the dream Josie did incredibly patiently…
Consider these two points
1. A leotard is the result of the desire for a woman to be able to move un-hindered, (most commonly in dance or aerobics.)
2. It’s revealing nature means that it may be sexualised by the viewer.
My conclusion (or dream punch line)
The leotard is therefore a physical embodiment the front line of socio sexual politics.
Boom Boom
Yeah – she didn’t laugh either but – I find it remarkable that I can have such a thought while sleeping.
11.12.09
STUPID VIDEO
SO I MADE THIS VIDEO. THAT IS ALL REALLY - JUST TRYING TO LET PEOPLE KNOW.
SORRY IF YOU ALREADY DID.
14.11.09
PHIL JUPITUS
Isn't that modern? Isn't that nice?
What's even stranger is that night we went to the pub and he was sat there, in the corner.
I'm a fan of Coincidence, and Phill Jupitus so went over and said thanks.
What a nice day.
20.8.09
TODAY
Comedian’s in Edinburgh blog considerably about “what happened today”. Not a unique approach in the world of digital publishing but it has always mystified me a bit. Funny people flexing their banality muscle. Odd.
My turn.
I get up and wash off remnants of food, hair product etc. Some new food goes in next with some hot drinks of either type then out dorsy clothes are applied and bus gold is sourced. Then stairs, repetitive but reliable; objective – public transport with walking used as joiner. Time for daily curious face re: lady boys then wafts of nostalgia triggered by various corners (locations of past singing, shouting, falling). The stand is destination for play about shouting and Russians with Phil Nicol Bruce Morton and Jim Muir . Blood everywhere. Home next via paraphrasing to pick up digital controllers left on charge. Stage time come next details sketchy. Focus reduced by Hocus. Fuzzy memory leads to indistinct sleep. Stop. Repeat.
I missed you Edinburgh.
No I didn’t.
My turn.
I get up and wash off remnants of food, hair product etc. Some new food goes in next with some hot drinks of either type then out dorsy clothes are applied and bus gold is sourced. Then stairs, repetitive but reliable; objective – public transport with walking used as joiner. Time for daily curious face re: lady boys then wafts of nostalgia triggered by various corners (locations of past singing, shouting, falling). The stand is destination for play about shouting and Russians with Phil Nicol Bruce Morton and Jim Muir . Blood everywhere. Home next via paraphrasing to pick up digital controllers left on charge. Stage time come next details sketchy. Focus reduced by Hocus. Fuzzy memory leads to indistinct sleep. Stop. Repeat.
I missed you Edinburgh.
No I didn’t.
25.3.09
Late idea
So thats it, a long day, lots done, nice things to eat, good telly. Perfectly ready for the sleepings. A quick flick through the very comforting National Geographic and lights off to muse over vague thoughts of the problems with the oil sands of Canada. Just right.
Zzzzzzzz
Then, “wouldn’t it be funny if, in the show, I did this thing with jars and celotape, Indana Jones and islands in the stream. Maybe long hands on stick. Yeah, long hands!”
Fucked. The rest of the night is a cholera fever of Edinburgh madness, all Steve Bennet and portaloos – plastic pints and anxiety - rated in stars.
And the dreadful thing is the older I get this insomnia just gets worse.
Zzzzzzzz
Then, “wouldn’t it be funny if, in the show, I did this thing with jars and celotape, Indana Jones and islands in the stream. Maybe long hands on stick. Yeah, long hands!”
Fucked. The rest of the night is a cholera fever of Edinburgh madness, all Steve Bennet and portaloos – plastic pints and anxiety - rated in stars.
And the dreadful thing is the older I get this insomnia just gets worse.
I’m a Tapwater Winner, B.A.F.T.A. Winner, ©JOHN WILLIAM ANDREWS 2009