Janey's Blogs - December 2005
1st of December 2005
The War Gig
fun tonight doing the charity gig for the Stop the War gig. There was
an amazing poet on called Tom Leonard; his poetry was so sharp and brilliant.
I laughed my ass of at him.
Nice people and it was a worthy cause as far as I am concerned.
I am still negotiating the trip to NZ comedy festival. It takes place in Auckland and Wellington; hopefully it will all fall into place. I do love NZ, the scenery is just breathtaking.
I am over the moon as my BAFTA DVDs have arrived, it means I get to see all the latest movies to view and judge for BAFTA awards, in the comfort of my own home and on the special DVD player that they send you from USA!
my first film called North Country. It was really good movie
starring Charlize Theron, Frances McDormand and Sean Bean. The plot revolves
around the sexual harassment case of the female miner in the 1980s
in USA. I enjoyed it.
Had a weird set of comments on my blog about me handing the cash back to the police (see previous blog entry). I understand that people consider me naïve, but I believe in Karma. I dont want someone elses cash and if the police steal it, then so be it I didnt!
I have been quite stressed lately for no good reason other than trying to organise everything. I have been in meetings all week making sure the tour for the play is in place, the workshops I am doing next year, my big theatre gig in London coming up and am planning next years Edinburgh Fringe as we speak.
I have been chewing my hair again, which is a bad sign and have taken to pulling bits out I did this as a child when I was being sexually abused and that strange habit has never quite left me, I hate to admit.
I have a big gig coming up in Glenochil prison to loads of long term lifers. They only can seat 100 but 150 have requested to attend, so it may be a bit of a squash!
safely say that this is the gig where they may Kill for a Ticket!
Some of my mates are horrified and worry for my safety , but I have performed my play to lifers before and they were really nice to me maybe not so nice to the people they killed but who am I to judge?
I am there to make them laugh and maybe for the first time EVER I actually may look like a sex symbol!
the 1st of December 2005
to all who are still buying my book Handstands in the Dark,
I love it when people meet me and give me their opinion on it!
I know many of you have been voting and I SO pleased, thanks.
If you still want a chance to vote for my book. Here are the details.
Its Best New Book this year on Radio 4 Open Book show.
If you feel like voting for me and have read my book Handstands in the Dark then feel free to do so, I would be chuffed!
dont write in as an obligation, just if you have read the book and
feel you would like to vote. I am drawing attention not scamming for votes!
In the form you put your name email address and then write in the comments bit....
Handstands in the Dark by Janey Godley and then write what you thought of the book if you want to.
is the link, if it doesnt open, just copy paste it into your browser.
Thanks normal blog will resume tonight if I get back from doing a double gig and I dont die on the busy roads.
the 2nd of December 2005
Gigs and Good People
a good night performing for Shawhead Nursery, all the money went straight
to the kids Christmas presents. It wasnt a Cherie Blair charity
gig either; expenses were paid by me, I hate when people say they do charity
and then charge rail fare and taxis etc
They are good people
up at Shawhead and they really do care for their local school and nursery.
We drove straight from there to JoJo Sutherlands gig in South Queensferry, what an amazing wee picturesque place! The beautiful big Forth Rail Bridge as a backdrop to the lovely wee harbour village was just eye popping.
JoJo Sutherland is such a good female comic, she really has come on leaps and bounds, mind you she worked extensively with the likes of Susan Morrison, one of Scotlands brilliant stand up comics and you can only watch and learn from the likes of her. Scotland really has produced some great female comics; Susan is a good example of that.
The Christmas lights were up and twinkled over the Victorian buildings, it was so cute! Sometimes I wish I lived in a small place instead of a big heaving city. I do love the city though.
I love being able to walk outside my front door and be in the heart of the city centre in five minutes! I have the whole of Glasgow to walk around, access to all the museums, shops, galleries and best restaurants on my door step.
we live in London it is right behind Westminster Abbey, an awesome beautiful
building with a swimming pool down stairs and the Thames at the bottom
of the back garden. I am so very very lucky.
I am so looking forward to doing my stint on the Ned Sherrin show on Radio 4; he is a truly wonderful man who makes broadcasting look so easy. What a consummate professional he is, being in that studio with him watching him interview, gives me the optimum opportunity to learn from the best.
Life goes on I need to get some Christmas shopping done. Talk tomorrow.
the 3rd of December 2005
I had a lovely time today; I went to the Community Awards down in Whiteinch.
and drug support workers down there have been great at supporting me develop
my play Smack-the Point of Yes.
I performed there in the community halls a few times and really enjoyed it and have put the play on also for charity.
all the people who contribute to their community get awards and was heartening
to see, there was one woman who had worked with the kids for over forty
years! That is some going.
gave me a special mention and I was very overwhelmed, it was amazing,
I feel they have helped and supported me more than anything I have done
for them to be honest.
Later on I went out shopping with Ashley and we meandered through the throng of mental Christmas shoppers, it was quite stressful but we carried on casually. I was in a shop looking at trousers and trying to find my size when my phone went.
a call to say that a journalist had called the theatre that I am gigging
at in London and they insisted that my gig was not the 20th of December
but the 21st.
My heart missed a beat and sweat trickled down my back as Christmas shoppers were now bashing into me in the rush to get the perfect set of holiday novelty sox. I panicked and explained that it was definitely the 20th as I am not even in London on the 21st!
I could hardly breathe .NO NO; I cant even begin to cope with this if there has been a date change I didnt know. I have loads of industry people and friends coming along on the 20th of December and the press releases have gone out! I now wanted to stick a fork in the skull of every screaming baby in that store .fuck when The snow man brings the snow I want to scream.
I quickly called home and got the contract pulled up in the email for me to check and sure enough it is the 20th of December, what is the theatre thinking of giving a journalist the fucking wrong date?
I called the theatre myself and they assured me it was just a wrong date in the system and the press will be informed that it is the 20th. Panic over, but I was still incredibly stressed to the point of vomiting.
and I made it home.
straight to bed and tried to sleep off the worry as I had a gig tonight.
By this time it was 7pm, but I wasnt needed until 10pm, and the gig was local. My heart was thudding in my chest as I lay in the dark. I dont normally get so stressed but this week has been a bit full on. I lay there thinking I was going to have a stroke what the fuck is wrong with me? Its all sorted!
So, I finally got up out bed and fixed me make up grabbed a sausage roll and headed for the underground to take me up to Byres road. On the tube, I munched at my wee snack, just as I was about to swallow, my throat felt tight and I couldnt get the pastry down. The tube trundled and plunged through the dark tunnel .my heart started to beat faster, I was starting to choke and for the longest time I couldnt swallow that fucking sausage roll. The tube screeched and the piercing sound hurt the back of my eyes, I felt claustrophobic for a few seconds and thought I was having a panic attack .I wouldnt know as I have never had one before .but this feeling was escalating and for a brief second I thought I was going to jump up and get off at the next stop.
I managed to swallow, I breathed slowly and was fine it was over.
What had just happened? Was it stress?
to the gig, watched the acts and went on and actually had a fine gig despite
I am going to have a stroke. When did I stop coping well in life?
is wrong with me?
I will feel better, I will stop letting everything get to me.
coped all my life with issues, I am no stranger to dealing with shit and
I will get better at it
maybe I am just old!
And maybe I will do it without eating my hair.
the 3rd of December 2005
here is some updated information regarding My Photo Gallery.
a new photo gallery which can be accessed through My links,
External links or favourites links depending
on the format of the blog site that you are viewing.
If none of those options are available, you can click on the link below.
sharing my photos with you, comments are welcome as always and normal
blog will resume later.
I am off to Shettleston (my old home ground) and no doubt I will have a tale or two to tell!
the 3rd of December 2005
going back to Shettleston, I love getting to see my brother, David, he
is two years older than me, and easiest the funniest man in the world.
We met in a small local bar full of wee old men and football fans of all ages.
kept teasing me saying I had a full moustache going on, I was horrified
and decided I need to slip into the toilet just to quickly check I hadnt
turned into Hitler in the short time I had left home.
I giggled and decided to pull out my wee black eyeliner and drew a big curly moustache under my nose that curled up round my cheeks, it was really comical looking in the mirror in the loo.
I then slammed open the toilet door that led into the bar, I threw my arms open and shouted YMCA as I pointed to my funny face.
My brother wasnt there, but his teenage son was, the poor boy just stared at me, the locals displayed faces of concern and my big nephew just looked at me as if to say My auntie draws on her own face.
Just then David came out of the gents loo and laughed his ass off and then when I told him I came out with a big entrance and he wasnt there we pissed ourselves laughing. You had to be there I know but funny as fuck.
He makes me laugh like no one else, I wish he did comedy, he would be a star!
I got a cab home and watched Shettleston fade behind me, the streets I grew up in, the church I got married in, the bar I met my husband in, the place my mammy met her murderer .My home town.
the 4th of December 2005
thinking today about the woman I met the other night at the Stop the War
gig I performed at. Rose Gentle was the mother who was there to talk about
the movement of Families against the war.
Rose is just an ordinary Glasgow woman but with an extraordinary mission. We sat at the same table as I was about to go on stage and she chatted away to me about just regular stuff. Her son Gordon joined the army at age 19, he got around thirty four weeks training and was promptly sent to Iraq where he died within weeks of being there.
She told me Gordon had joined the Army 6 months before his death.
up for the army when he went to sign on for his benefits.He was a classical
had access to a half decent job, then he and many other young soldiers
like him, including another 5 from our local community, would not have
considered joining the army. We now know that Gordons life could
have been saved if the MOD had provided his regiment with the proper equipment.
2 hours after Gordons death, all RHF vehicles were fitted with a
piece of equipment called the Bolterman (electronic jamming device).
is designed to jam the remote signal that is used to detonate roadside
were the only British battalion in Iraq that did not have the Bolterman
fitted to their vehicles.
units were sitting on a shelf in an MOD storeroom!
I was horrified to hear this. I asked how she felt when people posed the question of well he did wear the uniform, he was solider, and soldiers do die in combat
herself, put out a cigarette and spoke with conviction Janey, if
my son had died trying to stop the weapons of mass destruction from coming
over here and killing us, I would have been sad and proud. The fact is,
there were NO weapons of mass destruction, my son died for a lie, he died
for oil and thats a fact. There is Iraqi people dying on the streets,
there are children being maimed and bombed for a myth. Those innocents
dont deserve to die like that, this is not a war, this is a propaganda
machine. I was proud of my son trying to defend his country but I will
not support a lie, they need to bring the troops home and stop defending
their pretend war
She told me she was labeled a thorn in Tony Blairs side and added she wouldnt rest until she was a thorn in his throat. That made me smile.
This woman, who married, grew up in Glasgow, who once was a cleaner at my daughters school, who worked hard to raise her kids, buy Christmas presents, went holidays was now standing up and facing our elected Prime Minster and all of that executed with ease.
her speaking to the gathered crowd; she was clear, concise and succinct
about her subject matter, never once letting the emotion betray her voice,
never once nervously mumbling her words.
more believable as a public speaker than Tony Blair, I wanted to rally
round this woman and fight her cause, and I was roused to the core!
only admire her gusto, I have a nineteen year old daughter, I have no
idea how I could ever speak again if she were dead. I do know that Rose
Gentle is a wee regular Glasgow wifie who will never be far from Tony
He will never meet her and avoids her gaze as she stands outside Downing street with placards and as she relentlessly campaigns for the rights of those soldiers in Iraq and to keep the memory alive of Gordon Gentle, a boy who died in a country his mammy never even knew existed till he lay dead on their dirt side roads.
Good on you Rose, take some of that Glasgow grit and make it stick on Blairs lying face as he defends the decision for those soldiers to spend another year in country where no one knows who the real enemies are, Rose Gentle knows apparently his name is Tony.
the 5th of December 2005
Glenochil Prison Gig!
a day! I had to meet up with a journalist to discuss the article they
are writing concerning me performing comedy for the lifers at Glenochil
But first I had to dash to the docs to show him a new wee lump on my breast, turns out its just a wee cyst and I need to get a new mammogram thingy whoopee lucky fucking me lets get my tits squashed and flattened my favourite.
I then have been booked for the Malcolm Hardee tribute gig in London in February at the Hammersmith theatre, on a huge fuck off star studded bill. I had to move a gig to accommodate it, but I did like Malcolm as he took me to Glastonbury and gave me a gig and had faith in me.
I still have problems with the Cochrane theatre which seems to have no record of me on their ticket selling website not good!
Anyway the journo asked me how I felt performing comedy for rapists and murderers, I said Well, I do a lot of gigs, how do I not know that rapists and killers are sitting in any audience, maybe they have not been caught yet?
Fair point he answered.
And, to be honest, they are in prison serving time for their crime and deserve to be treated with dignity I added.
Are you not scared? He asked me.
No, I am from the Calton I smiled.
Getting to the prison was a fucking trauma, all dark and horrid but we got there eventually.
was all set up for the gig as they took me through a whole series of big
security doors, with the obligatory barred sliding door.
The guys all came in and sat quietly until the prison guard announced me.
It immediately struck me that they were all wearing either green or red tops and they cheered as I came on. I still dont know what the colours mean.
on the wee wooden box they called a stage and looked around the room,
there seemed to be more prison guards and police than convicts.
I opened with People worried about me coming here tonight, they were scared you would attack me, but I know you guys wont hurt me when you have all these coppers to beat up I mean I have never pissed in your tea!
They all cheered and we had great fun. I kept going into areas of comedy which I clearly hadnt though about for instance
you like travelling? No
fuck I forgot, you are in here for while
let me tell you about my travels then!
I then did material about how I want to go on TV show Dragons Den where millionaires sit in a room with 150 grand in front of them and decide which entrepreneur will be funded.
I said I want to go in there, pull out a gun and shout Right the fucking lot of you, money in the bag, NOW or I will fucking blast your face off as soon as I had said that I added Sorry if that was a wee flash back from your actual crime! and they all just laughed their asses off!
I did some stuff about sex and pain and asked the inevitable question Anyone here into sex and pain? Or is that a silly question coz you all already jam each others cocks in cell doors? Do you all do that fisting thing in between basket making and painting by numbers?
I am telling you these guys and I laughed like fuck, they knew I kept going into slightly inappropriate subject matter and I ended up giggling and squirming trying to get out of that situation and they were egging me on to say more!
I asked them if they had any questions and quickly said But not asking me on a date as thats fucked, I will sitting in some fucked up smelly café for 15 years waiting on you turning up
They all cheered at the end of the show, I was bemused as I recognised at least three faces in that crowd. As I was leaving one big guy looked me right in the eye and said, Hey, you were funny, I laughed when you used to be Janey Storrie as well, good work!
He did know me, and he had just used my married name which I changed legally to Godley 10 years ago.
So I am home and safe, it was good experience and would love to go back and do it again. Check this Wednesdays Glasgow Herald, that when the article goes in.
the 7th of December 2005
at the dentists this morning, he seemed pleased to see me and always laughs
as I come in and then pin myself to a wall and scream!
to be scared but honestly I really am, but as you hit 40, you really have
to stop being silly.
taking out the black amalgam fillings at the back, creating two crowns,
fitting six veneers and whitening the bottom teeth. A big fucking job,
I think it may be cheaper if I just paint tipex on my yellowed old choppers.
went of for hours, I am sure he eventually reached my eye socket when
he stopped. I managed to swear loudly even with my mouth fully dilated.
the dentists and staggered home all floppy mouthed and numb when my mobile
rang, it was a journalist asking me to talk about the day John Lennon
died for a feature she is doing. I could hardly talk and I think I said
stuff about me burning a Christmas cake as the news hit my wee newly wed
kitchen back in 1980
.it wasnt till later I re thought what
I had told her and blushed a bit
A fucking Christmas cake? John Lennon
dies and I fail to bake?? What the fuck was going through my head? Probably
a drill had penetrated it and gave me frontal lobotomy.
off tomorrow to do a piece to camera for STV regarding the countdown for
the year on the Hogmanay show; I am hoping my brain is ok for the job.
finally compiled a list for all the stuff I need to take to London, scripts
for the sketch show Ashley and I have written, the film synopsis I have
written with a mate, DVDs of the play and comedy and the mini discs
of the shows I have done before. I am trying to be organised.
so much to do
best fuck off and do it then!
the 8th of December 2005
Shoot and TV
to get up early and get dressed, suited and lipsticked all ready for the
STV recording for the Hogmanay Show. I was to comment on various Scottish
news headlines that occurred in 2005.
The venue was Hampden Football Park, I was almost late and panicked slightly, but they got me straight in and quickly seated in front of the camera.
I was quietly horrified because just as I had got ready to leave the car; I spotted this bushy black mouser on my top lip, HOLY FUCK!
wasnt actually joking when he ribbed me about having a moustache
when I had visited him last Saturday.
The camera man asked me was I ready and I blurted out Excuse me can you see my moustache on camera, honestly I saw it moments ago in the car and I am so paranoid!
you cant see it Janey he laughed.( I would have preferred
him to say it wasnt actually there!)
I was totally sweating beneath the strong lights with the football museum displays behind me, I spotted an ancient picture on the wall behind the interviewer and it was one of those football legends from the 1920s and he was sporting a full handlebar job and I slowly thought Thats what I am growing, a fuck off Lee Van Cleef job
The interview went well, I managed to be funny on demand (well I hope it was funny, they laughed maybe at my moustache come to think of it).
If that wasnt a bad enough experience, the camera man for the Glasgow Herald turned up immediately after the filming (no time to run to shop, buy cheap razor and shave in a toilet).
I quickly asked my husband if he could see my moustache and he looked very closely and said
not a proper moustache, when did you start growing that?
His face was all distorted and disgusted, like he had just seen it for the first time and now wanted a divorce from the strange man/woman he was married to.
I was having photos taken for the article that is going in the Glasgow Herald piece that is running next Tuesday regarding my prison comedy and how other comics have worked in prisons.
The photographer had me in a pair of handcuffs that I supplied (they were remnants of the gun and explosives haul at my father in laws house in 1994, the police missed the cuffs!)
Anyway before long he had me driven up to Barlinnie High Security Prison for more pictures. So there I was in the freezing cold, in a pair of handcuffs with a scary prison in the background, smiling as my moustache trailed in the cold wind, like bicycle streamers flapping from under my red drippy nose .cant wait to see the pictures!
Today was filled with me getting packed and ready to go to London, I cannot believe the amount of stuff I have to take, I am nervous as Ashley and I go straight from the flight and straight into an interview with the Sunday Times. We are the Relative Value subjects.
So finally here is the good news
My book is being reprinted
As it has actually sold out and there is now a waiting list for it!
so chuffed like you cannot believe! What a lovely Christmas gift for me
I can afford wax strips for my bushy tash?
the 10th of December 2005
Airways and Comedy pitching
.Friday the dark day
were all packed last night to go to London, just some small bits and bobs
to go in last minute. I fell asleep knowing that I had to get up at 8am
to have a shower and get ready for 10.30am flight from Glasgow to London.
in a lovely deep sleep, when my mobile registered two text messages at
5am! I stumbled out of bed and with bleary annoyed eyes I read them. Both
were the same message from British Airways telling me that my flight had
I had to get to London for midday as Ashley and I had to do a photo shoot
and interview with the Sunday Times, I had work in London and meetings
what do they mean cancelled????
had been up all night and I ran into the living room hysterical yelling
BA has cancelled the flights!
into action and got me the flight documents, I called at 5.07am and was
greeted by an automated voice telling me the company doesnt open
well who the fuck sent me the text then?
I sat and waited till 6am struck the clock and I promptly dialled up,
I was put through to someone who told me the only way I would get to London
today was to get to the airport NOW and be on the 7am flight as fog had
backlogged most of the flights.
was dragged out of a sleep, husband began throwing stuff into the case,
and Ashley was wandering about the hall in her pyjamas trying to find
shoes with mascarad stuck eyelashes and bewilderment.
we were dressed and out the door into a cab at 6.20am!
airport we made the check in on time, we were ushered up to the Club Class
finally we breathed and sat down. Then were told to quickly
board the plane as the 7am flight was ready to go.
our seats, sat down and waited
and waited and the flight was so delayed
it never actually took off until 10am! Yes three hours on a fucking domestic
flight sat on a runway in Glasgow.
I was going to take the pilot hostage and start killing the women and
children first. Ashley
meanwhile, who HATES mornings, had turned
into Myra Hydley/Ted Bundy/cloven hoofed spawn of the devil. She snapped
and bitched, the crew had NO drinks on board, so I argued and argued until
they let me off the plane that was NEVER going to move for 3 whole hours
to go get some cold drinks.
news is, I spotted Gary who used to be a producer of comedy for BBC and
now works for Endemol, sitting up the back. I went up to see him and after
three minutes telling him what I am up to and stuff Ashley and I pitched
our sketch show right there on the plane in front of a bunch of strangers,
ok bored strangers. Gary responded well to our idea and we have a meeting
arranged for next week! Never an opportunity wasted with eth Godley /Storrie
got moving and soon London was near!
after 5 hours of travel/non travel, we were back in the city of Westminster,
back to the most luxurious flat for a Scottish girl this side of Sheena
to say, stepping into that under floor heated en suite marble bathroom
this place and have decided this is how I should live forever.
was not over
not be a long chalk!
Part two tomorrow or later on as this is posted a day late.
the 11th of December 2005
fights and fun part two
its now Sunday, I am exhausted as when I landed in London on Friday,
I literally hit the ground running and finally I can breathe!
Ashley and I did the photo shoot and interview with the lovely man from
the Sunday Times (we are the Magazines Relative Values
subjects) we went across to the local Soho newsagent for some bits and
pieces, after we presented our purchases, he REFUSED to take our Scottish
for people outside UK reading this let me explain.
Britain use a currency called sterling or British Pound if you want the loose terminology for it. In Scotland we have our own design of Sterling/British pound and its just a different design, not a different monetary value, we are British.
Some English cities mainly London do have shops and services that refuse Scottish money on the grounds we may have printed it out of a computer and coloured it in with ink markers or something I suppose they assume its fake.
Anyway, the man refused and I got annoyed and called the police, they explained that the man can refuse to take it and I said to the police person
if I walk out of this shop with the goods and leave him the ten pounds
sterling, then I would be arrested for shoplifting?
She said Yes, if you take goods and dont pay that illegal
I added, But I am paying with sterling, so how can that be, he has my legal British money and I have goods
She then told me Get off the line, I have better things to worry about
Like what? I asked.
Terrorism and bombs she snapped at me.
Thats better? Dont you mean you have more important things to worry about? For someone who is English, you would think you would have a better grasp of your own language and grammar
She hung up.
We walked out of the shop, I wasnt going to give him any cash if he wouldnt take my Scottish cash.
First night in London .
morning I was off to BBC to be part of Loose Ends, the lovable Ned Sherrins
show. It was so awesome, I got to sit in a studio and listen to Courtney
Pine and Roachford (two of the worlds best musicians) play just for me
me and the other seven people in the room
oh and the millions who
listen in ever week to Neds show.
By the way you can go to this link and listen to the show I was on.
Then click listen to latest edition
Later on that night I was off to Battersea to be on stand by at Jongleurs comedy club, it means I sit around and see if an act fails to make it due to doubling up on other gigs, then I go on stage there or any one of the London Jongleurs and fill in. Its good fun and you get paid whether you gig or not!
This morning (Sunday, British Sterling time) I awoke, knowing I did not have to work today, hurrah! Lazy day for me and my best mate Monica came round to see me, we had a good chat and then husband took our daughter to Heathrow as she goes home today.
I will miss her, but she really is a grumpy evil mare in the mornings, she turns into some awful snappy fire breathing dragon and poor husband always forgets that and will mistakenly ask her a simple question or make a silly remark as he passes her in the hallway as she stumbles about with her cloven hooves, clawed mitts and red slitty eyes that seem to be the norm if she is awoken before midday!
Good morning happy girl he smiles, forgetting she is possessed.
She turns her head, the hair flaps wildly, she opens her mouth and fiery evil flames come shooting out in his direction, I fully expect him to come back into the bedroom with blackened hair and singed eyebrows as the dragon child flaps her fleshy sharp backwings, draws in her blood sharpened claws and goes hobbling awkwardly on her stumpy hooves back into her room, leaving a trail of black smoke and burnt daddy in her wake.
I wont miss that!
the 12th of December 2005
finally rested; today I went up to Unique studios to record a show
with Jon Ronson for his radio programme that airs next year. It was good
fun and he is a very interesting man, he made me think a few times about
my personality during the show!
Apparently pretending to have a sore kidney to get a free queue jumping pass at Disneyworld is not normal! The show was about how people cope with waiting and in case you didnt know I am shit at waiting, I cause chaos when forced to wait see my blog about me sitting three hours on tarmac in Glasgow on Friday!
I sat on four tube trains today, it was relatively quite for this time of year in London, maybe its because of the time I travelled (lunchtime) or maybe people are still worried about tube travel but it was enjoyable to have a seat in December in London on a train!
It was weird because I noticed that people watched every Asian or Middle Eastern person who were carrying a backpack I sat beside the dark skinned man I saw, uncharacteristically for a London traveller, he showed me all the photos he had taken on his digital camera and we chatted. He had taken good photos of Londons landmarks.
was a smelly/drunk/homeless man sitting near us and I always have compassion
for the homeless and underprivileged (I was one for a time in my childhood)
but this man STANK so badly I had my scarf around my head covering most
of my face and certainly my mouth. I was sitting there dressed in black
with a black scarf wrapped around me revealing only my eyes, speaking
in a loud Scottish accent chatting with an Arab bloke who showed me his
pictures. Everyone was looking at me!
I have a meeting tomorrow and a gig tomorrow night. So tonight I am sitting on my fat ass watching TV and chilling out.
is walking around doing things. I do feel for him slightly,
he really must feel out of place, being taken from his home comforts in
Glasgow and travelling around the UK with me staying in hotels and swish
he wonders what happened to the barmaid he married, that wee girl who
was going to settle in a Glasgow tenement and raise kids and keep a cat.
If someone had told me ten years ago that we would no longer be in the pub we ran for 15 years, him being my boss and me being the best sausage and chips fryer ever and that in the future he would not be working, I would be a writer and stand up comic/playwright and we would be living half our lives in hotels or in London, I would have thrown them out of my pub for being mentally disturbed yet here we are! Strange the way things work out. I am happy though, I was never that good at frying and I fucking hated drunks.
the 14th of December 2005
Death in Soho
had such fun in London so far, had good meetings with TV people, and had
a great gig last night at Comedy Camp, got to meet up with Jay who is
an old mate
and shopping eating and fun.
I was at BBC television centre pitching a sketch show and screenplay.
I got out at White City and was amazed to find that there is no bar or
café local to the station, so people going to BBC for meeting etc
have a sit down or anything before they go. There are a few upmarket coffee
places across the road and up to the new BBC centre which is not far but
hardly near enough, so I thought about ditching the TV idea and buying
a bar! Hold on
did that before for 15 years, why do I keep going
back to that idea?
Last night coming home (did I just call the luxury apartment home...I wish) from Comedy Camp on the 88 bus through Westminster, Clare Short the politician got on, I stood up to give her my seat and she said Its not necessary I smiled and said Listen you are an old burd and I am off at the next stop she wasnt that happy, but I was too busy listening to Doobie Brothers on the IPOD to care.
So today after another meeting with lovely telly person about various projects, I made my way to Bar Italia in Frith street, its my favourite coffee house in all of London Town. The whole shop front is covered in scaffolding, the building is being renovated.
a good hot latte, I stood up and plugged in my earphones so that Steely
Dan could carry me through Soho, when debris and lumps of masonry from
above came crashing down on my head. It was fucking sore; the café
manageress came out and was helpful in dusting me down and checking I
wasnt bleeding. She got the building manager to come to see me
is where the fun began.
Now any man who wears jogging bottoms and shiny smooth loafers, with a Union Jack Jumper stretched to the limits over the big fat belly and a deep Cockney Accent with a slight lisp has got to be funny when your skull is sore. It was like trying to listen to verbal Sudoku!
He asked me where I was from.
I replied whilst rubbing my scalp.
about in Glasgow? he mumbled, east end I said.
we could be family, I am from Clerkenwell he said.
I looked at him, wondering where this was going.
I sniggered you know mate, where I from means nothing, that building
site is unsafe, what are you going to do about it?
know gangster Arthur Thompson he smiled, as I still waited on the
answer to my near skull smashing experience.
dead; listen mate, my head hurts who owns the building? I snapped.
threaten me he hissed at me in his twisted strong cockney accent.
It was like being harassed by a badly dressed Kray Brother.
you need to stop the whole jellied eels, oi oi oi thing and tell me who
I am supposed to call about this
was he gave me the wrong phone number for Soho Estates who own the building;
luckily I have the internet and called them direct.
I then spoke to the poshest man in the whole wide world, he apologised and urged me to go to hospital and reassured me they would do anything possible to help, but in fact they own the property but the sub contractor is responsible for the scaffolding and safety issues. I doubt that very much, ultimately it is the responsibility of the people who hire the people of the safety of the site but in any case, I am not badly injured and am not suing.
So it is true I am the epicentre of disaster maybe I will get a free coffee from Bar Italia?
the 16th of December 2005
and Strange Men in suits
being moved from Home Office...
an odd day all round, I was standing at the bus stop outside the Home
Office down near my flat at Marsham Street, waiting patiently on a bus.
I heard a small commotion behind me and on the grass verge outside of
the Home Office; a big black man had erected a small tent, and put up
peace protest notice stating that he was being harassed by the Government.
I stopped to read his notice and immediately police starting mounting
the grass and pulled his tent apart. The big man started shouting and
I reached for my mobile phone and started taking photos on my camera
(Which I will post soon).
Before I could even get saving them to file a few men in suits surrounded me out from nowhere! I am not joking; it was sinister to say the least. I watched as the police got the big black guy to the ground and started moving him along the grass towards the police van. I pulled out a piece of paper and shouted to the black guy Whats your name? he looked at me and shouted Fredrick Kamera. Is that with a K, I asked?
was now on the ground with the policemen on top of him and he yelled back
Just then, a very handsome guy in a sharp grey suit and bright yellow tie appeared at my side, he touched my arm to get my attention, I turned and he made serious eye contact You cant take pictures of the Home Office, its against the law He smiled and leaned towards me Can I see your phone?
fuck off, if you try to take it I will scream, take your hands off me
and quit with the charm, I will stop taking photos of the office building
but I will continue to take photos of the dude who now has a police
man standing on his neck I sneered. I ran around to the other side
and kept taking pictures, it was making the men very uncomfortable.
Whats your name and who are you from, you know you need to stop shouting to that man and you need to stop this behaviour Yellow tie smiley boy said.
off, make me I challenged him This is a city that wont recognise
Scottish Sterling as legal tender and you are telling me I have to shut
up and stop being me, I have freedom of speech, what will you do? Stab
my arse with a poisoned umbrella on Waterloo Bridge? You are the smallest
James Bond ever, now get fucked mate or those builders across the road
will witness you harassing me
By now they were dragging Fredrick Kamera into a waiting police van. I watched and the suited man spoke again Do you have a website?
it called? He continued. By now the place was crawling with office workers
leaving the building who were now casually watching the fracas.
am not telling you shit, there will be forty cameras on me now, you look
at them and work out who I am and do your job I snapped. The black
man was now in the police van and huckled away, no trace of him being
on the grass existed.
Its best if you just stop being a nuisance and move on now, that man had mental problems the tiny James Bond spoke.
would happen if Jesus turned up here and stood on that ground and tried
to tell the world he was here to save everyone and was appalled at the
way people were treated, would you stand on his neck and throw him in
a police van? You people say everyone is mentally retarded who speak out
you are a Christian? he asked me.
I am not, I am just making a point you annoying man, look there is my
bus I ran off and caught the bus into town.
I had meetings and friends to catch up with and things to do all day but if I suddenly drop off the radar and no longer blog then you know what will have happened to me the old syringe in the neck trick!
the 19th of December 2005
Headaches and radio shows
has been good fun so far. I had a great gig last night at Edcomedy up
in Foresthill. Lovely wee room and run by good people, the only problem
is I had the start of my legendary only in London migraine
that lasted all night and most of today. Today was good publicity wise,
I got a great mention in the Guardian Guide as the pick of the month comedy
for my show at Cochrane Theatre on Tuesday night and today on Open Book
Radio 4 my autobiography Handstands in the Dark was mentioned
on the list of Best books of the Year, then tonight on Channel
4 I was on The 100 Greatest Christmas Moments
in all it was good!
All that stuff is good. The weird thing is when I saw my fat face on TV I recall thinking at the time that my hair was nice but wow it looked fucking horrible! Why is that? Its the same when you look back on old photos from the 1980s, I thought I was terribly sexy but now I see a strange woman in a tight red dress with packed footballers shoulders, wearing a sharp red pillbox hat teetering about in black stilettos what was I thinking? Joan Collins of Glasgow?
I went to see my husbands lovely old aunty Nellie today; she is 93 years old and lives near London though she is 100% Glaswegian. It was so very funny, she has reached an age where being diplomatic means zilch, that combined with a history of Who gives a fuck what I think mixed with a small does of forgetfulness and the results are near legendary.
she saw me her first words were Your fat, do you know that you are
fat and by fuck youre old as well.
loudly at this as she meant it and I loved her sharpness, I had mates
calling me to say that they had just heard my book being praised on the
radio and in the background aunty Nelly was shouting (she is deaf) You
would think you would stop eating and maybe run a comb through that messy
my mates were pissing themselves laughing, so if at any
point all this publicity goes to my head aunty Nellie will be there to
remind me of my life time of failure in the weight and hair department!
Tomorrow I am up early to get everything ready for Tuesdays show, I need to sit down and work out what I am doing as its a two hour one woman show, to be honest I kinda wing it most of the way, but I need to prepare some stuff I suppose.
I also want you people to know that I do get your comments, but as my blog is syndicated to nearly 40 different blog sites, it isnt easy to collect your comments as I have blogsites that dont have comments alerts on them and so I have to actively go through every site that I belong to and search for your comments to reply to them. So please dont think I am ignoring you. If you ever want to contact me you can email me at email@example.com
a good night all!
the 20th of December 2005
is the Day
up and ready for my big show tonight at Cochrane Theatre, I am worried
a bit as I dont ever seem to have a format for my show and its
a big two hour show! I have had period pains and horrid stomach problems
but I am good to go.
night was good fun, I went to the 606 jazz club in Chelsea and the music
was amazing! The old guy from the Average White Band was on stage and
afterwards he came over for a quick chat, turns out he is from Glasgow
and he asked me Where are you from?
The Calton in Glasgow I replied.
Calton? Tongs Ya Bass! he laughed.
Now that made me laugh out loud, as Tongs Ya Bass, is the gang war cry from the Calton, my part of the East end of Glasgow! It was really funny to hear this older man say it out loud in Chelsea! Especially after he had been playing the most sensuous slow jazz!
My life is good, I got to hear great music again and last week of course I heard Courtney Pine and Roachford play in a studio at BBC I am so lucky.
a bit stressed today and complained to husband for breathing loudly
not a good sign this early in the day.
We leave tomorrow at 10am as I have a show in Glasgow tomorrow night, I cannot even begin to worry about packing, and that usually stresses me no end, but I will manage, I am so relieved that the people at Crown Lawn gave me this apartment, I owe them so much I may have to donate my eggs to them.
all you people at Crown Lawn for the amazing stay; I am in your debt.
Normally I have to stay in shitty smelly hotels, but a marble palace with
an indoor swimming pool? I am a princess! The Christmas tree downstairs
in the reception hall is beautiful and cheered me up every time I walked
into this building.
try to write more tonight after the show and we can see how it all went,
if it was shit I will tell you all trust me
the truth is always here
the 22nd of December 2005
Home for Christmas!
I am back. The gig went fantastic at Cochrane Theatre, nice people turned
up, people who had read my book, blog or newspaper articles. I had decided
on a surprise start to the show, I came on dancing to Madonnas latest
single, except I am old and nearly broke a hip bone trying to impersonate
a 48 year old woman
get that? Go figure? Madonna does three hours
exercise a day and lives on a macrobiotic diet, I lose my breath climbing
stairs and live on Pot Noodles and chocolate, thats why it didnt
work well, but people laughed and thats my point.
show was taped on mini disc so I may learn top podcast and let you all
hear it soon.
so happy to see people there who have come to see me before, except I
cant believe these people come and see me often, trust me if you can imagine
what my following would be like, its not a lovely Middle Class, Middle
England family with three kids who are all lovely and well fed and mild
mannered YET that is who comes to see me
I know because there is
a nice family who come to see me in Edinburgh, Soho Theatre and Cochrane
Theatre! I know they are reading this so THANKS but fucksake WHY? Dont
stop coming to see me
I just cant figure out why
am so grateful. You are nice people; maybe you like to hear me swearing????
on stage last night at Glasgow Jongleurs, the crowd was heaving and they
love a good Christmas party in Glasgow.
Tonight is back onstage at Jongleurs sorry I am blogging way too late but do keep coming back, I promise no more swearing but I will always fight authority!
the 23rd of December 2005
Dear Bloggers here is a genuine correspondence between me and some dude
calling himself Doctor Steven Igho, its a Nigerian scam letter but
I got bored and answered it, here is the replies. My writing is in RED
From: Steven Igho [mailto:firstname.lastname@example.org]
Sent: 20 December 2005 22:17
Subject: Kindly assist.
From: Dr. Steven Igho. I too am a docktor
Dear Friend, Yes we are friends
My Compliment to you, yes tell me more I lick it when you talk sexy, I fink we are destined to be together, do you like fire?
I guess this letter may come to you as a surprise since I had no previous correspondence with you. No not at all, I always get letters from unusually familiar Nigerian folks bring it on big guy
I am sending you this mail on behalf of the tender board of Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC) Chairman, MR. ABEL D.GUOBADIA. Really? What a fucking surprise? Wow I must be really important that you wrote me! We came across your contact in our search for a reliable me reliable? I have been in prison for possessing guns you really dont know me do you? person to handle a very confidential transaction involving the transfer of Eighteen Million, Five Hundred and Seventy Thousand United States Dollars (US$18.570m). Wow you have that kind of money and you need my help? Get over here sexy! Can we marry? How can I help?
The above fund is not connected with arms, drugs or money laundering, My money is fuck I love selling crack and arms well we call them limbs here in Scotland it is the product of an over invoiced contract awarded in 2003 by INEC Sure whatever carry on tell me more I am so interested to a foreign company for the construction of high rise estate in the federal capital territory. This is odd, as this has happened to FOURTEEN other people who have emailed me from Nigeria how odd is that?
The contract has long been executed and payment of the actual contract amount has been paid to the foreign contractor. Yes I believe that I also know that the IRA talk to me through my toaster and there is a hedgehog called Tammy who used to be Neil Armstrong, he lives on my roof The balance of the actual contract, which my colleague and I now want to transfer out of Nigeria into a reliable foreign account for our personal use. Yes use me I will look after your money send me your account details now dusky boy
As civil servants we are not allowed to run foreign accounts. Really??... What a cunt? Hence we have chosen you to front and support us as the beneficiary to be paid. Whoopee?? Me???If you are interested in the proposal kindly get back to me by sending me your letter of acceptance along with your direct telephone and fax numbers. For your support and partnership, please reply me to negotiate your fees or the percentage you wish to be paid when the funds are transferred into your bank account. Can I get paid in biscuits?
Further details about this transaction will be discussed in the subsequent correspondence. Note also that the particular nature of your business is irrelevant to this transaction and all local contacts and arrangements are in place for a smooth and successful conclusion of this transaction. Yes I understand coz I am special
Be informed that we are aware of the way email proposals of this type are being sent from this part of africa. Regarding this email, you should treat this proposal with utmost attentionas knowing fully well that you cannot and will not be compelled to assist us if you are not disposed to. I am treating it as a proposal, I want to marry you, I marry lots of men from Nigeria, but they all died now and am so lonely they died by fire all of them.
I will be in United Kingdom on official assignment probably in a week time, Lets meet up; I have one eye and piss myself a lot. You may contact me on this Fax: +44-709-287-3843 or via this email account email@example.com, forward me with your contact telephone and fax numbers on response, I will call you for a discussion.
Thank you as I await your response. My name is Mangofandango, I live in a seashell and like to lick small penguins, please be my friend?
From: Steven Igho [mailto:firstname.lastname@example.org]
Sent: 22 December 2005 06:56
To: Janey Godley
Subject: Re: . Fake letters from Nigeria...I answered it...my way
YOU'RE VERY FUNNY I LIKE IT...................GOOD
Janey Godley wrote:
am glad you liked it Dr Steven, I dont like it and posted it to
my entire address book and read it out on stage and have mentioned it
in the media. What kind of doctor are you? One of female circumcision
or one of small cattle prodding perhaps?
from all of that you must know that we know its all shit, you are not
Russian perhaps?? We thought that from the investigations
sending me your pleady shit; I have a life to lead and so must you. Go
bother someone else.
Steven Igho [mailto:email@example.com]
Sent: 22 December 2005 15:17
To: Janey Godley
Subject: RE: . Fake letters from Nigeria...I answered it...my way
DONT EVER WRITE ME AGAIN, WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM?
think you will find YOU wrote to me skanky boy
not the other way
you established this relationship, your scam has been spread
all over the media
MY FAULT??? I dont think so, be very careful
who you send spam scam to mate
be careful what you wish for. THAT
IS MY PROBLEM
whats wrong? You have no sense of Humour Dr Steven?
You were hoping I was a mental patient and would send you my bank details?
Go fuck yourself and try to find someone else to annoy.
like biscuits and am posting this on my blog sites that gets around 7000
hits a day and is syndicated to 60 sites. Bite my ass!
the 24th of December 2005
today as I struggled through the city centre and into Marks and Spencers
to do some food shopping that Christmas is a bit fake.
you think I am about to launch into a bah humbug situation
hear me out ok?
for this opinion is quite easy, in the shops there was absolutely no seasonal
cheer, people were almost punching pensioners to get the last batch of
honey glazed parsnips (like roasting fresh ones with a dash of honey was
so fucking difficult?).
point I want to make is that there were so many goods on sale that helped
the public Create the ambience of Christmas.
the rub, has anyone reading this EVER walked into a home in the last thirty
years and been greeted by the smell of roasting chestnuts, fresh pine
cones, aromatic spices mixed with the tangy fragrance of mistletoe, home
baked mincemeat pies or logs crackling on an open fire?
the answer is NO
well not me anyhow.
Christmases from at least aged four that I recall had the smell of debt
ridden parents trying to smoke them selves to death over the stench of
cheap beer and burnt chicken. In the background were four unruly kids
snapping each other with elastic bands to see who could get the last tangerine
whilst a mangy dog ripped the last piece of foil from a greasy roasting
tin as he licked the hardened chicken fat.
Yet in Marks and Spencers you can buy a room fragrance of Spicy Holly and Fresh Christmas Berries why? I have never smelt that in my life?
nothing to me and reminds me of the cheap air fresheners that permeate
every fancy hotel elevator that I have had the unfortunate occasion to
sniff and choke on.
are told that we arent really taking part unless we peel apples
and soak them in mulled wine and offer the hot fruity drinks to our friendly
neighbours who come round in hand knitted jumpers and cheery rosy cheeks!
are mostly Muslim and have pissed off to Oman for the Holidays and some
have even gone to Palestine; one or two of the other people in the street
spat racist comments and called them heathens as they packed up a huge
car with kids and boxes as they flew out of Glasgow. How ironic, as my
neighbours were actually going to the place Christ was apparently born!
I bet there is no smell of pine cones there, but the smell of fighting
and gunfire will always be associated with Christmas to the wee kids that
live in that city.
Christmas one and all.
the 25th of December 2005
Christmas Eve, I am lying in bed at 5pm for a wee pre festive nap, my
bed head is directly beneath my window and in my light slumber I can hear
tap tap tap
what the hell is going on? Who is hammering in the back
car park on fucking Christmas Eve?
So I finally get up and drag my knees onto my pillows, pull open the curtain and look into the circular car park at the back of my house. I am four floors up and have a great panoramic view of the whole grounds.
There between parked cars is one tall guy clapping his hands and stamping his feet and five other well built dark haired guys dancing some Spanish Flamenco type moves, with twirls and short cracking heel movements.
I thought to myself What the fuck? and called on my daughter to come see in case I was having a pre menopausal flush hallucination or something.
onto my bed lifted up the curtains and gaped at the dancing men below.
I mean this is Glasgow we expect glue sniffers and junkies not the fucking Jets and the Sharks to be having a dance off beside my blue Renault. You always see dance movies where people burst into dance moves and skip round cars but you dont expect it to actually happen only in my life guys!
So I opened my window and shouted down to them Well done.
They all stopped looked up at my face from four floors away and smiled Come down they shouted.
I cant its cold I laughed and shook my head.
Immediately they all started to take off their coats to offer me warmth (how cute!).
No, ok I will come down I shut the window and pulled off my pyjama top and put on bra (I didnt want to scare them) and some warm clothes.
When I got down into the car park and they saw me close up they put their jackets back on (I kid you not, from a distance I look ok, close up Rapunzel turned into repulsive!).
They told me they were Spanish dancer (that figured) they are rehearsing for a show in Paris next week and cannot rehearse in a flat as the noise makes other Glaswegians want to stab them, so the best place is the car park!
and watched and took some pictures, here is a link to them
So today I awoke to 27 text messages wishing me a Merry Christmas, I was so tired and so not ready to eat turkey or do any that stuff. I am not a good cook but I have to tell you all, I managed to make a full on traditional turkey dinner complete with warm cranberry sauce, apricot stuffed turkey, honey roasted parsnips and wild berry panacotta .Marks and Spencers really do good ready to heat meals.
Have fun all am off to watch young hot Spaniards dance in the fog beside my car.
the 27th of December 2005
love being a Poster Girl
went out last night, she doesnt often go drinking ( that always
worries me as I have an issue with booze, but must never make her paranoid
about it, even though I never had problems with alcohol, I come from people
who did and still do).
Anyway, she was up Curlers bar and was out partying with some guys. In the background was my face on just about every poster she could see, Curlers do comedy and she was surrounded by me from every angle. She told me that as a guy was being dirty mouthed and chatty with her over his shoulder was my face staring at her from the comedy advertising! How cool?
I love that and am now going to insist she can only go drinking where I am the poster girl in the background.
I was looking after baby Abi last night, she stayed over and is only two years old but her rendition of Kaiser Chiefs I Predict a Riot whilst she played with my nativity set was tear jerkingly funny.
me that the Blackman in the nativity set was scaring the wee lady
in Blue (Jesus mammy), she then made the blonde man who carries
a sheep on his shoulder (who is this guy? What Blonde Swedish porn star
made it to Jerusalem?) Kiss baby Jesus, who Abi declared was a girl. Ith
a baby girl, yeth it is she lisped as she made Holy Mary lie beside
the black man and then tried to prise the small gifts out of the hands
of the King.
I laughed till my eyes hurt, her Pee Wee Herman version of the Nativity was hysterical and all set to the tunes of Kaiser Chiefs who needs more than that?
gig of the century in my eyes. We went round to the Bistro to see some
mates and Dante was there, it was good to see him as he has been on tour
with his rock band El Presidente, he laughed out loud at Abi singing Greenday
and Kaiser Chiefs as well and declared the baby one of the best lead rock
singers under three and we cheered and Abi took a bow! How professional
hang on she was getting too much attention and to be honest
thats my job.
Unfortunately she had to go home as her mummy wants her back, to be honest she made me laugh so much I wanted to keep her.
Today I am just getting Christmas presents put away and the house organised.
the 28th of December 2005
Rush is over
God we all survived Christmas
I was sick of reading articles
in magazines shouting How to Survive Christmas as if it was
some ordeal, well in some countries it is, but thats not really
what the article was aiming at. It was writing some crud on how to prepare
a mammoth eating feast, how to buy a glittery black dress, how to set
a table and yadda yadda other stuff about other shit.
We bought ready to eat food and some cold drinks and sat, ate dinner and watched TV in between working on stage and my daughter doing DJ work (she is working as a DJ whilst studying, she reckons pressing a button every three minutes is infinitely easier than serving cooked greasy chips at £4 an hour).
a fun morning, AGAIN a radio show BBC Radio 5 live called me early to
see if I would take part in a call in show about Scots who
live abroad and Scots who wont leave Scotland.
yes then fell back asleep, then an hour later the call came
and I was groggy and talked for ages on stuff I wasnt sure about
until the host of the show asked me live on air Janey sell me Scotland
in ten seconds.
I took a deep breath, tried to clear my dreamy head (that incidentally was still having sex with Cachi from happy Days) and said really loudly
have water, good food, we dont deep fry mars bars, we have lovely
scenery, we love people and we like to chat and we have water
I had finished I could hear my husband laughing in the other room, he
was listening live to the show on the radio.
The host said We have water? Janey we have water in England as well
kicked in and I realised I just said the shit about water and I then I
explained We have clean good water and then he said goodbye
live on air.
I switched off the phone and fell back asleep and went onto to dream about a crazy jaggy nailed cat that was stuck fast to the back of my thighs and no amount of pulling could get it off my flesh, then I had was kissing Boutros Boutros Galle as we both tried to remove the blood sucking evil flesh scratching cat. Thats my life, all pussy and no fun
the 30th of December 2005
comes the snow
a good day today, went out for lunch with my old school pals Janette and
Jean. Its always nice to catch up with them both.
for lunch and walked around town and by the time we left the restaurant
the snow had started to come down heavily and the town looks awesome with
the twinkling lights and drifting snow flakes.
the snow, although I know it does kill people
well mostly old people
and bad drivers, I still think it makes the city look clean and nice.
I sat at the window watching for my husband to come back from the supermarket
(I hate shopping, I eat it but hate doing the hunter gatherer thing with
the credit card
it bores me) anyway out in the car park people were
playing snowball fights and making snow men, so I decided to get on my
wellies and go join them. Ashley was screaming Mum please get off
those old velvet leggings and those wellies, you like the nutty old woman
who smells of piss and cats and scares the kids
I merely smiled and ran down the stairs .can you believe my daughter thinks there is a certain clothing etiquette for snow ball fights? How strange!
beside the snow man and was unsure if he needed a snow man penis and snow
balls, then husband arrived in the car and asked me why I was sitting
beside a snowman.
I smiled at him and said He loves me and I melt his heart
Please help me with the shopping, I have chicken was his romantic answer.
the 31st of December 2005
Those Crazy Russians .
visiting my sister Ann on Boxing day, my sister has four kids and four
grand kids (the famous Abi from previous Blogs is the youngest grand daughter),
my sister had a full house of kids including Abi who was screaming The
Robert frightens me as she pointed at her brother Shauns
remote controlled robot. There were teenagers arguing over
MP3 players, dogs barking, people trying to watch TV too loud and a knock
at the door which I answered.
on my sisters door step stood a lanky geeky looking dude with a
big smile and a Santa scarf.
Hello I am Russian student he smiled and for some obscure reason clicked his heels in a Nazi type spring time for Hitler dance way.
I looked at him and said Really? Where in Russia?
His eyes got bigger he smiled more and stuttered Erm Russia
Where in Russia? I asked again. At that moment Abi decided to squeeze her wee blonde ringlet fat head through my thighs, between my legs and stare at him, it must have looked like I had just popped a curly headed small Gene Wilder from my crotch.
I am selling these pictures he ignored the small Willy Wonka type girl and carried on regardless.
In his hand was a shiny, metallic kitsch illustration of Jesus, he held it up for full effect.
Thats Jebus Abi giggled as I shoved her back through my legs and pushed her into the small hall that led directly into the living room where every one now was watching me and the strange Russian picture seller.
No thanks we have pictures of Jesus I told him .he tried quickly to come back and flashed a new shiny picture of a unicorn.
I also have fantasy he smiled.
Jesus is fantasy, we have enough of both here thanks, listen mate we are stocked up on crazy in here go sell that shit else where I laughed and shut the door.
My sister gasped and giggled Janey that was rude
He wasnt a Russian, selling fucking strange shiny foil pictures, thats shit I spat.
shit Abi repeated. Then I gasped and sat for a whole hour telling
her Aunty Janey says bad words that must never be repeated.
Is mental patient a bad word? her big brown eyes looked at me over my sisters kitchen table, her wee innocent pouting mouth smiling at me.
but Aunty Janey was wrong for teaching you that and you must stop calling
everyone it as its not nice I explained
I forgot I told her
that ages ago and she remembered it clearly.
that man at the door with shiny pictures is actually a mental patient!
I was wrong, but he was nuts.
tomorrow is New Years Eve, or later on today actually as this is now after
1am! I am on stage tonight at Jongleurs, hope it all goes well.
Have fun all Janey