Day 1150 - Amateur Melodramatics

Do you hanker for the days when actors really put their back into emoting? Today's mumbling film stars are all very well but we at the Little Thetford players prefer a more demonstrative approach to expressing ourselves. Below, for example, are DC Wayne Cough and Betty Urge (one of the Fens most glittering socialites) getting their teeth into a scene from a recent stage adaption of an episode of Terry and June where the vicar comes round unexpectedly. There are still plenty of tickets left for tonight's performance of What Is To Become Of Us? And next month, in the back room of The Black Dog, I shall be presenting my one man show Reading The Shipping Forecast.

Day 1149 - Common Fashion Errors By Men #1 Accessorising

Let me guide through the arcane and often confusing world of fashion. This is the first of an occasional series that will build into a handy guide so that you don't commit style blunders anymore. For example, the gentleman below has made a basic goof. Accessorise by all means - but a dead chicken? It's just not going to work, is it? What does it say? Does it say, 'I'm a go-getting individual with my eye on the prize' or 'I make my own rules, Mister'? No, it says, 'I've got a dead chicken'. A real shame as the rest of his outfit is top notch.

Day 1148 - Early Twentieth Century Bird Taunting

Day 1147 - A Million Views!

Today my blog achieved its millionth view! I feel like the cock of the walk.

Day 1146 - Some Lows

I love what I do. I really do. But sometimes events can conspire to challenge the depth of my feelings for this symbiotic relationship. Last night, for example, I played to a lovely bunch of people. There just weren't very many of them. Blast. I have learnt over the years to accept such disappointments as well as to not let the good stuff go to my big fat head. For every passable review in the Ely Standard there is a total slagging in the Royston Crow. In my line of work I am publicly judged, my stock analysed, on a daily basis. Butchers don't have charts, milkmen don't get heckled, no one ever says to a plumber, "I preferred your earlier stuff". Any hoo. Here are some lows from my glorious life in light entertainment for you to snort at.

I sent a demo to Virgin records when I was 18. I got a letter saying they liked the tape and asking me to come in for a meeting. I could not afford the train to London so a pal offered to give me a lift on his bike. Four miles down the M11 and the engine fell off. When I eventually got a phone to tell the record man my tale of woe I must have sounded like a complete lying dolt. I did not sign to Virgin.

My smallest ever audience was in Blawnox, Pennsylvania. It was a cowboy hatted man sitting in a chair with his feet up on the stage. After every song I played he would angrily shout, "PLAY SOME BLUES". In retrospect I think he may have been right.

My worst ever co-writing session was with a couple in Bethnal Green. He was French and she was Australian. I can't remember what they called themselves but they later got a record deal. A business decision that may have, in time, been rued. I went to their flat which had pink furry wallpaper throughout. This had gone mouldy so there were flecks of green among the Day-Glo strands. It was like being inside a phlegmy psychedelic lung. A bit whiffy too. No one spoke, it was all very enigmatic. Eventually the feller picked up a guitar. With his eyes boring into mine he played a single Am chord on his negligently tuned instrument. The air wobbled sadly. At this point she burst into tears. "It's all too beautiful", she wailed. Within the hour I had feigned illness and left.

Cancelled gigs, getting dropped, being deleted, rejection letters... these are few of my favourite things.

Day 1145 - Buster Keaton Doll

I want a Buster Keaton doll. I want one. Can I have one? Please? I want one...

Day 1144 - L'Art En Guerre

I'm a lucky man. I have just spent four days in Spain playing with Eddi Reader. I went to this amazing exhibition in the Bilbao Guggenheim. Very affecting. Back to the jokes tomorrow.

Day 1143 - Sickly Boy

This wonky phone snap hardly captures the sheer peakiness of the subject. I urge you to visit the Blue Boar in Maldon where this remarkable piece is on display. I have no idea who he is or what made him appear so unwell but I assure you that once seen in the flesh you will never worry about your pallor again.

Day 1142 - Entertainer

Really? REALLY? He doesn't look very entertaining...

Day 1141 - Budget Boo Keeping

Thank you to a Mrs Caroline Oates of Southampton for this.

Day 1140 - Super Heros Gardening

Day 1139 - Top Ten

1 John Major Runs Weird - The Cast Of The Unbearable Lightness Of Being
2 I'm In Love With William Hague - Yo-Yo Ma 
3 I Remember When People Went On Marches And Stuff - Embittered Old Singer/Somgwriter...

Etc

Day 1138 - The Stakeout

A further adventure from PC Jenkins, the overweight Victorian policeman who is a martyr to wind...

   PC Jenkins hunkered down behind the whimsically topiary fashioned hedge as best he could. His unwieldily bulk made this a rather taxing task and he was soon sweating like a rice pudding fresh from the oven. His breath came in uneven gasps and he felt as if the exertion involved in this ungraceful manoeuvre might cause him to faint away. But at that moment his eye fell upon the immodest hamper that he had brought with him in order to sustain him during his vigil. Therein lay enough food and drink to sustain a small hamlet for a fortnight. Granville Jenkins, though, was blessed with such a remarkable appetite that this was unlikely to sate him until breakfast. With a nimbleness that defied his enormity he was soon forcing vitals into his relentless jaws. Pie after pie disappeared into the vortex of his greed. After an hour or so of this spirited ingestion he experienced the moment of calm that comes at the conclusion of one's repast. His mind turned to the reason for his presence in the opulent gardens of this imposing stately home. Try as he might he was unable to recall who or what he was meant to be observing. As he crouched in puzzlement he heard a distant church bell strike twice. And so it was in the small hours of an early spring morning that within the intestines of the unfortunate lawman there occurred a build up of gas that was beyond even his troubling experiences of this distressing phenomenon. He fell on his side groaning quietly like a bloated sheep. If Gabriel Oak had been at hand as he had been in Far From The Madding Crowd where he'd been able to pierce Bathsheba Everdine's inflated herd then things might have been different. But alas, there was no aid to be had. And though nature may abhor a vacuum it does not take too kindly to trapped wind, either. When the inevitable happened livestock within a mile radius were startled from their slumbers. Cattle stampeded, horses reared and bats plummeted to the Earth, their sonar systems in disarray. One by one the lights came on in the grand house ahead. Jenkins knew with a start that his cover had been blown.

Day 1137 - Advice

I plan to read a couple of my blogs live on Radio 2 tonight... but which ones?

Day 1136 - Young People Sing Funny

Every generation stumbles across an affected way to sing. In the 80's a lead vocalist didn't so much sing as yelp like an affronted labrador. I tried it myself in the band I was in before the Bible. When my children heard those records they greeted them with scornful laughter. Ghastly. These days young people employ a squeaky vibrato that sounds as if they are using one of these. Make it stop!

Day 1135 - Derek Kiosk

Derek Kiosk was a deeply unpleasant man in his late 50's prone to unprovoked bouts of violence. His face brought to mind the features of an offended camel enduring a severe bout of IBS. And though a wiry man of only 5 foot in height he was in possession of a remarkably distended pot belly. With his graceless mien and scant regard for personal hygiene he was nobody's idea of a catch. Yet this disastrous individual was Britain's first movie star and his image graced the walls of many lovestruck young women in the 1920's. His excruciatingly dull films have all been forgotten but at the time there would be queues around the block to see such poor fare as Look, There's A Tree and Mr Brown Buys A Scotch Egg. To celebrate his death I shall mention him in passing in the pub later.

Day 1134 - Less Successful James Bond Gadgets

1/ Hover thermos. After three years in development it occurred to M15 officials that this device was never going to be of any use to a secret agent. Like, never ever.

2/ Radar briefs. Abandoned due to problems with over-heating.

3/ Portable jet-pack. "Although a remarkably efficient piece of design Mr Bond commented that it was unlikely that he would feel entirely comfortable taking this into an exclusive Monte Carlo casino".

4/ Harpoon shoe. "Q is of the opinion that if this was to come as part of a matching pair then detectability might be less of an issue".

5/ Indestructible handkerchief. Although, indeed, indestructible, at nearly two hundredweight it tended to hinder movement during action in the field.

Day 1133 - Snake Oil

State Of The Union - Snake Oil available for pre-order now!!! http://www.boohewerdine.net/shop.html

It could be yours to own and cherish and that...

Day 1132 - The Pickle Sisters

I would have loved to have attended the band meeting where they decided on this. "I've got it! We'll dress as pickles!". Some of them appear to be happier than others at this turn of events. Next week... Geoff Tarp & The Pinking Shears.

Day 1131 - Some Situations To Avoid

Receiving New Boots And Panties for one's Christmas (having never heard it) and then playing the intro to Plaistow Patricia really loudly to your Nan. (Nb. I have done this).

Getting into a car that looks just like your mate's car after going to the cash point and shouting, "OK, I've got the money". (Nb. I have also done this).

Going on a youth club bus holiday during which you fall into some sheep droppings. In the summer sunshine the mess dries and all is well. Later, on the way home, you go back to the house of a young woman you have taken a shine to. She offers the use of her washing machine to clean your formerly white trousers. Her father, who works nights, is awoken by the ensuing appalling stink. He rushes into the kitchen where you are sitting in your pants and screams, "In the name of Christ what's that smell?... And who the fuck are you?". (Nb...)

All of the above.

Day 1130 - Jet Lag

I have returned from Japan.

Day 1129 - April Fool!

Here are some ideas for you to try today...

Why not claim to be the last of the Aztecs and also the drive-time DJ on Radio Suffolk? Imagine people's faces when they discover you have been talking bullshit!

Ring a local solicitor and make an appointment to resolve a drainage dispute using the name Mrs Buffy Plankton. Imagine their faces when you fail to turn up at the appointed time!

Turn yourself in at the local copshop and confess to a horrible murder. Imagine their faces etc.

Hack into Greggs website and change the names of their products for comic affect. For example, the Three Cheese And Pickle Baguette could become Big Bum Sandwich, or something.

Go to a town centre you are familiar with but pretend to be lost and ask people for directions. Sadly, no one but you will be aware of this ruse. But you can imagine the look on those people's faces if they knew!