John Gets Mad. Bi-Polar tales 1. (Don’t be a pain in the arse.)

I’m soon going to do a new show based around experiences of mental illness called John Scott Gets Mad. The things I post here are first ideas of what will be in it.

There’s a fair bit of hippy dippy thinking out there that goes along the lines of, “oh but if you take a medication for your mental health problem you’re not addressing the problem you’re just masking it.”

Look the condition I have is genetic. It requires treatment but is also very treatable. If it rains you put on a coat. It’s the Same idea when taking a treatment. Of course you get whack jobs like Scientologist Tom Cruise who claims all mental health treatments are the work of the Devil. Perhaps Tom if you took a pill you might have a moment of reflection on your double divorces and come to terms with the fact that your gay.

Saying that, having a mental health disability isn’t an excuse for being a pain in the arse. Or so my wife keeps telling me.

I once went on a tour to raise awareness on suicide in the highlands of Scotland. It’s really proportionally high up there. Lots of alcohol and access to shotguns.

The woman who organised the tour works with self harmers. She herself was a self harmer. She was also one of the rudest and more difficult of folks I’ve ever had to deal with. If she wasn’t trying to completely control everything we did she spent the rest of the time trying to convince us we were all self harmers. By the end of two weeks I was wondering why she had to self harm at all. I would have happily offered up a quick punch in the kidneys.

“Oh you bite your nails. That’s a sign of self harm. Oh you smoke. That’s self harm”…OK you got me there…”drink, that’s self harm”…Fuck you the reason I’m drinking is to get through the next week with you. The best one was, “If you were a Goth in the 80s there’s new evidence to suggest that’s self harm.” Are you kidding me? The reason I was a Goth in the 80s was because I liked to sleep with slightly over weight girls in fishnets. How can being a Goth be an illness when you’re in a band called The Cure???

But the biggest pain was the obsession she developed over the size of my luggage. Every day at regular intervals. “That case is TOO BIG. It’s too big for the Highlands. It’s TOO BIG for this tour.”

The reason my case was bigger than the other comics was they were all going home half way through. I was away for a full 12 days.

Eventually one night in a calmer moment everyone got to speaking about their families, partners and children. “Do you have any children John?” She enquired. “Yes I’ve got three.” I replied. “Oh really? That surprises me.”

“Oh..Well I should explain none of them are mine…no they’re all in that big fucking case I’m dragging around the place.”

 

I/Mmature Student. 2. Fellow writers. Macbeth.

Ok now that I’m getting the first insights into what the workload is going to be like at Northumbria Uni with my studies of Drama and Script I’m beginning to realise this blog may be a place where I come for a wee break to relax and recharge. I’ve no problem with said work load…but yep we’re going to be busy.

Much to my delight I finally met my fellow writers today.  A great eclectic bunch from India, Latvia, Gateshead and other such exotic places. There are 6 of us but if you include Richard Stockwell our course tutor there will be 7 of us in the room at any given time. That’s a good number, both lucky and magnificent. Obviously Richard is the Yul Brynner leader type. One of my classmates Holly is a Bowie fanatic (there is no other type of Bowie fan) so she’s obviously dead smart/cool/old fashioned. I imagine over the next three years the pair of us will manage to put the other five off The Great Dame David for the rest of their days.

I’m absolutely delighted with the tiny size of our group. Compared to the more common class sizes we can have a lot more feedback and attention provided to our developing skills.

For our first classes we’ve to read The Coen brothers introduction to Fargo. I know, how cool is that. This is my homework! Plus we’ve to read/reread Macbeth. I’m not massively versed in Shakespeare but that is the one play of his I’m pretty familiar with. I’ve got a copy of it in the house somewhere  along with the notes. However as a bit of a cheat I’ve also just downloaded the latest film version staring Michael Fassbender and Marion Cotillard and err…me. Honest I was a member of the English army that invade Scotland. I would be gobsmacked if I can pick myself out as I wore a hood over my head for the days shoot. Possibly a good thing as my many friends in the SNP might find my role that day a wee bit hard to stomach. The shoot that day was pretty rough as we spent most of our time up a massive hill or in a bog in Northumbria at the start of February in sideways rain. Most of us spent most of the day slipping and falling on our arses. At one point I was heard to say in my broad Scots accent, “Ahm no sure if this invasion of Scotland is such a good idea. I think someone’s going to get seriously injured here.” Whether this adlib has made the final cut remains to be seen. I’m not so sure improvising is encouraged when doing the Great Bard.

https://www.northumbria.ac.uk/

macbeth-1
Is this a dagger I see before me… I’d imagine so mate. We’re in Glasgow.

 

 

The Ladies of Greggs (poem)

If you’re reading this outside the UK I should explain Greggs are a nationwide chain of bakers who originate from the city I live in Newcastle. I’ve heard several locals refer to them as a good employer. I can’t vouch that 100% you’d have to ask the staff. But the notion of employers treating staff well is a dwindling standard across the globe with some large areas being shoved back to slavery. I think that’s what the deliver us from evil line is about at the end…

 

THE LADIES OF GREGGS.

The ladies of Greggs work hard on their legs.
To bring us those pasties that keep us all fed.
The ladies of Greggs rise early from bed.
They’re the best of all mothers Ive oft heard it said.

With a smile and a cheery, “There ye gan pet.”
To say they seem happy is a fairly safe bet.
But why do they bother to bring us good service.
Most workers these days of their jobs they are nervous.

Because Greggs are an employer of decent repute.
Thats why you dont find them in industrial dispute.

For the cakes that they bake pay a good hourly rate so happiness at work is these ladies fate.

So we’d like to show thanks to the people at Greggs.
Deliver us from evil with our daily bread.

DAVID BOWIE ONE OF US.

 

From Brixton streets of black and Blues and working class of stock
A messianic boy named Jones was born the future king of rock.
The eyes didn’t match, the teeth needed capped, the complexion white and snowey
Yet behind those eyes lay a visionary later know as David Bowie.

David Bowie let them boogie, let the children play
David Bowie such a tease wasn’t really gay.
But it mattered not. He knew the plot. The suggestion was enough.
And a million forbiden lovers cried that there Bowie’s one of us.

He turned a planet feeling blue into a spinning glitter ball
And it wasn’t just the platform shoes that made us all feel tall
Because he blew away conformity. Made the rule book look quite petty
When he told a generation you’re beautiful, you’re changing and you’re pretty.

David Bowie let them boogie, let the children play
A million suburban heroes he birthed if only for a day
He screamed, he bawled, he was outrageous kicking up a fuss.
And from our factory production lines he screamed Rebel! Rebel!
For he was one of us.

He then shot off to Germany to escape that juggernaut called fame.
Ig and Zig and Eno stood watching lovers by a wall
The music did unite them from East and West they came
And a people reunited danced as that wall it took a fall.

David Bowie let them boogie, let the children play
A new Queen Birch named Thatcher tried to take all we had away.
But Davy boy he never flinched as he lifted us from dread
Put on your shoes, you know the ones, they’re revolution and they’re red.
OK the came some albums we’d rather not discuss
But that just proved he’s fallible because Bowie’s one of us

How many days have we left? With Hours you told us Seven
Then on a morning cold in January Look up here I’m in Heaven
From Stardust to Blackstar the circle was complete
To celebrate your legend we went Outside, did some dancing, tears fell upon the street

David Bowie let them boogie, let the children play
Your legacy is like diamond forever here to stay
Your songs will ring forever on the streets where they’ll be busked
And in a million years when they ask why we’ll say because he was one of us

Working class Pt. 2 The Arts.

There’s been much written in recent times about it being harder for working class artists to break through in their field. From problems with a lack of much needed money to gain access to education, to a general feeling that many of the fields are now being dominated by the privileged. I.e. those with money (or their parents money) to spare.

It’s not new the prejudices against the working classes in the arts. Over centuries it has been debated that Shakespeare didn’t write his own work because he was of too lowly a standing. To me the idea it was written by someone of nobility is ridiculous. Why would a noble in all their comforts have to strive to produce the best they could? They can just fall back on being…err…noble.

I think it’s certainly worth noting that just recently we lost two working class giants of their craft in David Bowie and Alan Rickman. Bowie himself left school with little qualification but did attend one of the many now eradicated 60s art schools. Rickman received sponsorship and a scholarship to get him started. All great supportive avenues for us ordinary folks to gain access to arts, now all gone.

On a personal level as a comedian I’ve certainly seen a hell of a lot of class bias in my own industry. Sometimes it’s prominent critics who hear a northern or working class voice and immediately dismiss whatever is being said as “club comedy” A now derisory term invented by a London based, self anointed comedy policeman. It’s a weird term as much comedy comes from and is created in clubs. Sure I understand that comedy designed to please those on a night out isn’t perhaps best suited to a festival going punter. But if that comedy does turn out to actually rock a festival crowd with laughter then surely it’s of some merit somewhere along the line? According to many critics absolutely not. And who is it we find most adept at this type of comedy? That’s right, working class comics. Because it was a working class crowd the comedy was created in front of. Yeah…but what are the working classes doing at an arts festival? This seems to be the notion behind such thinking.

In an attempt to not be judged as just a “club comic” I personally now write social and political comedy or satire as it can be known. How many working class voices have you heard over decades on telly or radio tackling that stuff? No, it would seem some forms of comedy are only to be uttered by those folks in the middle. What would a working class person know about the real issues? I was actually told once by the head of BBC comedy North, and I quote, “Look there’s a lot of good stuff here but you’ve got a wall of Oxbridge school tie to get over before anybody will look at it.” Do we hear a lot of working class voices on BBC Radio 4? Well I suppose sometimes we do, but usually they’re not being spoken by working class artists.  All this does beg the question what would someone from Oxbridge know about the vulnerability of life at the bottom. Or as we would call it, “the real issues.”

It used to be different.  The working classes were celebrated on TV and radio in the 70s and 80s. But for every Boys From the Black Stuff there’s now a Shameless. For every Alf Garnet there’s now Mrs Brown. We’ve been moved sideways in our portrayals from pathos to panto and nobody seems to have noticed it happening.

But it’s not all a negative picture we have here. My dad and many others were always ready to offer the advice for anybody wanting to study the arts, “You need a trade to fall back on.” Bizarrely as I head off to do a degree in Drama and Script this year I do have a trade to fall back on…the performing arts.

The problem with such thinking is those with something to fall back on will invariably fall back on it. If those coming from a more comfortable background can always opt out and go home, then home is where they will go. Working class kids can’t just up tools and go home. That’s actually their greatest asset. Once they enter the arts with nothing to fall back on…they are home.

Once you do find that home I would pay little attention to those outside performance or writing or music or busking who try to justify their existence by intellectualising the game. Art doesn’t come from the brain, it’s from the heart. That’s exactly what your audience will pay for. It’s an expression of joy and awe. Speak up, stand up…shout at the teacher.

 

Stand up comedy set 6. Church of Scotland minister…

just wrote a wee thing that made my wife laugh…It’s never been tried on stage so blame her…

CHURCH OF SCOTLAND MINISTER…

In Scotland we used to have a show called Late Call. And it was a wee five minute slot that came on at the end of the night in which a Church of Scotland minister would come on and try and give you some life advice via some religious metaphor. They’d say things like.

“You know my son came to me the other day after he had been on the internet…and he said to me…Is God everywhere daddy? I said yes he is son. god is indeed everywhere. And he said…So…Is God like Wi-Fi then daddy?

So I thought about that for a minute…And in a way yes he is. God is very much like Wi-Fi…Which is probably why they don’t get him in  Grimsby..hahaha…of course that was a little joke…

But yes God is like Wi-Fi and of course like all Wi-Fi he has a password…

But maybe you’re using the wrong password. Say for example if your password is something like Asian Babes Anal Calamity. Then that’s the very much wrong password.

Let me perhaps give you a wee bit guidance. You know I typed the words God Almighty into Google the other day and I got three top answers.

1.Is God Almighty real,

2. Is God Almighty the movie based on fact?

and 3. God almighty what’s the cure for an itchy scrotum?

Now the second two are much easier to answer than the first one. But if you have the right password then you can answer that first ever so big question…and I’m going to give you the password now…the password is of course faith.

Although if you type that into Google it does tend to go straight to the website of Faith Paloma…that’s the wrong one. Lovely as she is…

But I’d like if I can to finish tonight’s Late Call with a wee joke…It’s not my joke…it’s one I got off the internet…

There was a Jewish man praying at the Wailing Wall in Jerusalem. The Wailing Wall is of course a traditional place of worship in the Jewish tradition…Everyday they go there for a good old wail…which I suppose makes sense…they’re always moaning about something…hahaha…Anyway this Jewish man is working himself up into quite the religious fervour when a tourist comes by and asks him what he’s doing?

He replies, Every day my son I come here to pray. I pray for an end to war, I pray for an end to hunger and more than anything I pray for an end to this terrible situation between the Jew and the Arab.

So the tourist asks…and does that work.

To which the Jewish man replies…what do you think? I’m talking to a wall.

 

New Year. New Hair.

2015 the best bits.

1st Wedding Anniversary.
Doing a children’s show with Martin Mor
Seymour Mace gets nominated.
Discovering Hip Hip-Hop’s Golden Era
Seeing Public Enemy Live
Gogol Bordello live
The Prodigy live.
Becoming FB friends with a genuine Midnight Runner.

Milk the Cow Podcast and hitting the top of I-Tunes chart thanks to their awesome talent.
Milk the cow rave.
The Milk the cow community in general.
Sod the Tories And have A Nice Week does the best shows we ever have (Huge thanks to all involved. Special mention for my awesome helpers John Gibson and Stewy Robz who have gone above and beyond the call of duty. And big thanks to all that came to see us.)
Lauren Pattison gets signed to top agency.
Blue Collar starts to get put together. Mega thanks to Allan Donaldson for giving me the push needed.
Free Thinking Radicals. launching soon.
Wrote the best Fringe show I’ve so far managed.
Show got great reviews.
The 8 young black people that came to see the show and went into meltdown laughing during the segment on bigotry and race then took me out and got me drunk.
The Tower café gigs and the hippies that attend.
All the old school friends who came to see me in Edinburgh.
Meeting my nephew Sean for the first time.
Bowie’s back
Got accepted to Uni.
Headlining weekends at The Stand.
Jeremy Corbyn for PM
The Durham Miners.
North East Miners Wives Oral History Project
Newcastle.
Jack White.
M.U.F.F. is brilliant. Well done Kai Humphries, Daniel, Jojo Sutherland, Tom Stade and all involved.
HAIRCUT.
A big thanks to all the folk who employed me. Always massively appreciated. x

Scotland continues to complain.

Dr Who IS Scottish.

Ban the bomb.

Refugees welcome.

Being abducted by MI6.

Lesley Gair.

Have a good new year everybody. I’m fully aware it’s never ever plain sailing. I got my worries too. Focus on the good bits. Onwards and upwards. xx

A Christmas story….Sanity Clause

A wee thing I wrote for a charity book of Christmas related stories by comedians…

 

“Sanity clause? Sanity clause? There ain’t no sanity clause.” So goes the Joke between Chico and Groucho from the Marx brother’s movie A night At The Opera.

It had been ringing in his head for months now. It was an acute reminder of people’s lack of belief. A belief that people are told they should grow out of. Silly people.

But it was that very lack of belief that had put him where he was.

Cornhill psychiatric hospital wasn’t the worst place to spend an entire year. The food wasn’t bad and he’d made good friends with many of his fellow patients. Some of them were quite happy to accept he was the real Santa Clause. But now he was full of an almost electric excitement. He was thrilled with the knowledge that 10 minutes from now the magic would kick back in and his powers would come back.

 

Most people think that Santa is magical all year round, but that’s not how it works. The magic window lasts four hours between midnight and 4 a.m. on Christmas day. That’s when he can be everywhere, with every present, for every person, assisted by his loyal reindeer.

 

Ah yes the loyal reindeer. It was those very guys that had helped put him in this situation. But even after a year in a psychiatric hospital he didn’t really blame them for staging a walkout on Christmas day. Santa knew who the real villains were. You see, what people don’t understand is that Santa and his reindeer are essentially a voluntary organization. They don’t get paid for the work they do. They rely on donations from the public. Perhaps I should add…the public that believe.

But in recent years those donations had dried up. They were disappearing because of all the bankers, corrupt politicians, non-tax paying corporations and an elite group of people that wanted to keep all the planet’s resources and money for themselves.

And so Santa hadn’t been able for the third year in a row to give the reindeer their bonus. It was because of this that Rudolf, Dasher and Blitzen had staged a walkout. But this didn’t make Santa angry. Now that he knew the reindeer would be back to get him in 7 minutes time it actually made him smile. Good old socialist Rudolf. People always misunderstand why his nose is red.

 

So with minutes to go and the magic set to kick back in Santa made a mental note. He made a note that all the bankers, the politicians and general greedy bastards of the world were to be put on the naughty list. No more presents for them. People also misunderstand why Santa’s outfit is red. Silly people. What other type of person but a socialist would spend all year working as a volunteer, to bring happiness to all the children of the world for the rest of eternity. And despite three of his fastest reindeer staging a walkout, he would press ahead anyway and make his absolute best effort to make Christmas happen.

 

But it was because of all that good will that he’d ended up here. You see with three of his fastest reindeer out on strike, the magic sleigh was running at twenty per-cent less than normal speed. That is why he never made it back to Greenland in time. The magic wore off at 4 a.m. And when the magic wears off the presents disappear, the sleigh disappears; the costume disappears and most importantly of all the reindeer disappear. And so at 4.01 a.m. on Christmas day he found himself stuck. Magicless, in Aberdeen.

 

It put a wry smile on his face now that he’d been so naive. He’d spent so much of his time away from people during his working year that he’d forgotten people had stopped believing. That’s what happens when the world treats them unfairly and makes them sad.

So when he approached a police man early on Christmas morning asking for directions to Greenland…Well, you can fill in the rest of that story for yourselves.

 

But all that was in the past now… Counting down… 5 seconds to Christmas day…5, 4, 3, 2, 1. WHOOSH!

That was the noise the magic made when it kicked back in. WHOOSH! And his costume reappeared upon him. People who saw him that night swore he actually sparkled. WHOOSH! And the sack was on his back. WHOOSH! And his boots and belt fastened upon him. WHOOSH! And in the distance you could hear the sound of sleigh bells. Sleigh bells being drawn by magic reindeer. Fast magic reindeer.

And with all that Santa began to laugh. A laugh filled with the purest of joy. ”Ho, ho, ho!”

But before Santa made his way magically around the world he wanted to do something he’d never done before on Christmas day. He wanted some people to see him.

He made his way out of his own room and headed for the depressed people’s ward. All the doors were obviously locked in the hospital, but that can’t stop Santa. As all the believers know very well that he has a magic key. (The one that he uses for houses that don’t have chimneys)

When he arrived at the depressed people’s ward he took a deep breath…and then threw the doors open. “Ho,ho,ho! And a merry Christmas to one and all.”

And JUST LIKE THAT! Twenty depressed people were cured of their malady. Because now they had something to believe! Santa had reminded them there is always love in the world.

Then he headed up to the deluded peoples ward. Another deep breath, “Ho, ho,ho! And a merry Christmas to one and all. And JUST LIKE THAT thirty deluded people felt better about the world. Because now they knew that some of their strange ideas are obviously correct!

Finally on that magic night Santa made his way to the staff room. He wanted to thank them for all the hard work they do throughout the year. A final deep breath. “Ho,ho,ho. And a merry Christmas to one and all.”

Some of the staff nearly shat themselves. And with all blessings to all the good people of Cornhill Psychiatric hospital done, Santa climbed out the window and onto his sleigh. All the striking reindeer were delighted to see him again. WHOOSH! And he was gone.

Back in the staff room the chief psychiatrist turned to a doctor and said, “Well what would you call that?”

The doctor replied, “That my good friend, I would call a misdiagnosis.”

 

THE END.

Stand up comedy set 5.War on Terror (Excert from forthcoming solo show)

Here’s a wee bit from my forthcoming solo show to be recorded at Newcastle Stand comedy club on Jan 25th for release on I-Tunes…hope it makes you chuckle/think…

 

ICE BUCKET-1-O-CLOCK GUN.
You know when the incident in Paris happened I thought I’m going to have to stop joking about these things for a bit. Then I thought no fuck it that’s what ISIS wants. So fuck that. Incidentally who wants to see my tattoo of Mohammed?
So I’ve just come back from the Edinburgh festival. I don’t know if you know but Edinburgh is famous for firing a cannon at 1-oclock every day. I’ve no idea why. Boom its 1-oclock, get back to work you fucking alcoholics, or something like that.
Thing is one day I was up near the castle and a bunch of Americans were getting shown around, and I don’t think they’d been warned about our cannon or maybe it’s these days of heightened terror alerts. But when the gun went off they nearly all hit the deck.
It made me think wouldn’t it be fun to just set your watch and just before it went bang sneak up behind them and shout ALLAHU AKBAR!

ICE BUCKET.
Don’t really do that by the way, fuck you do that you’ll end up in Guantanamo doing a very long and drawn out version of the ice bucket challenge.

PANDAS.
So the war on terror that’s going well, it’s been a bit like the war on drugs. We should have a war on Pandas they’d be everywhere.

RECAP.
Lets have a quick recap on how that’s working out. So we initially armed some “rebels” to overthrow the Syrian government, but those “rebels” turned out to be ISIS. ISIS are a direct result of our wars in Afghanistan and Iraq against the Taliban . Now we’re hoping to form a coalition with the Taliban to overthrow ISIS and keep the Syrian government in place.
Thank Christ Medal of Honour was never that confusing. Mind you I’ve never had to defend an oil well while playing that online. How confusing would that be? Press button X for the truth…

JIHADI JOHN.
Six hours before Paris happened we we’re bragging about how we’d taken down Jihadi John. Well there’s a hardon that quickly went a bit Susan Boyle.
Security services said should we have detected Jihadi John earlier?…Well, I thought the name was a bit of a give away.

 

 

Stand Up Comedy Set 4.

Ok probably shouldn’t put this up yet as most of it hasn’t been tried yet. Or has existed in some ad libs live. This stuff is fairly harsh. I was planning on my next show being called, “The Worst Things I’ve Ever Said.” but then discovered Louis CK uses that term several times in a show of his. So can’t do that. For anybody this may interest this is what material looks like when your developing it. A couple of good bits and some obvious jokes….

INTROS.

Sorry if a sound a bit chesty tonight, I drive a Volkswagen. As soon as I park and get out I’ve got to put on patches. You combine that with the fact I’m Scottish and I like sausages I’ll be lucky to make it to the end of the show.

Not just that me and a mate just raced each other upstairs and he’s Russian so that’s knackered me.

You know the Russians have solved a big question for me. I always wondered why poor people dress in sportswear. Well now we know it’s because like athletes they do a lot of drugs.

DRINK ISIS.

So I haven’t had a drink in over a month now. And it’s not all bad. I really am getting so much done. It’s now become crystal clear to me why ISIS is winning. Hangovers, beheadings and rape to not mix…TBC

PROPER CHRISTIAN,

I don’t like right wingers claiming to be Christians. Because my mums a Christian. And she’s 81 now so she’s ;like a proper Christian. You know what I mean by proper Christian?

That’s right she hates Muslims. I blame the right wing media. it’s their bad influence. According to Fox News ever time you don’t eat your crusts…the Muslims kill a kitten.

You know how you get a little bit more right wing as you get older? She’s getting into some interesting turf with that. It’s not obvious. It’s just little phrases like, “Oh well there’ s just no pleasing some types of people.” or “Well that’s just typical of that community” or , “Oh yeah why don’t you go and open your own schools and isolate yourselves even further …you Islamic thunder cunts.” Just little things like that.

ATHEISTS.

I’m not religious myself but I think there’s a lot more fun to be had from winding atheists than the religious. they’re so angry all the time, “THERE’S NOTHING!” OK calm down. Have a Horlicks.

You know the best sentence you can say to wind up an atheist? It’s this, “Look I’m not really religious…but I’m quite a spiritual person. That drives them insane. 2You don’t even know what that means” they’ll cry. I reply, “Yes I do. I know exactly what it means. It means I’m afraid of dying but I can’t be arsed going to church.”

AMERICAN CHRISTIANS.

It’s the American Christian right that are the real head cases. They’ve just accused Starbucks of hating Jesus for changing the design on their Christmas coffee cups.

I think if you buy coffee at any time of the year from Starbucks then Satan’s already balls deep in your soul.

Do you know people have no rights in America. No holiday pay, no health cover. If a woman has a baby in America she’s not entitled to paid maternity leave.

And yet the American Christians are massively anti-abortion. With those kind of conditions I’m amazed their aren’t women running up out the subway with a lap top in one hand and coat hanger in the other going, “Oh can you pick that up for me. Can somebody get that? I’ve just not got the time.”

You take away a woman’s right to supported mother hood then I’m sorry you’re just going to have to learn to deal with the odd pile of foetal flob.

THE CHRISTIAN MODEL.

And they’re obsessed with the Christian model of the family. I quickly understand their homophobia but single parents get it too. “A woman should not raise a child out of wedlock.”

I don’t know how to point this out to them. But that God guy you’re investing so much time in…He’s a single parent.

FEMINISTS.

Cool has that got all the feminists onside. Cool. Let’s see if I can ruin that. Look I’m all for feminist campaigns. But have you ever been confronted by a really angry one.

I was once at one of my meetings and the subject of pornography came up. So I thought I’d drop in this little anecdote about my mate Jimmy whose mum was OCD. And he knew one day that his mum had eventually found his porn collection because when he returned to it, it was all in alphabetical order.

And a feminist lost it at me. She said, “All pornography is an act of violence towards women.”

So I felt threatened. And what do I do when I feel threatened. I crack a joke. One that I came to regret. So I said, “Actually I think you’ll find that only the really specialised stuff. I’m not into that.”

It’s alright we sorted it out at my disciplinary meeting.

WHALES.

We can’t change everything we’d like to. I think the Whales have had it. The Japanese just find them soooo delicious. Oh they go so nice with noodles. But Japan they’re a sentient being. They have conscious feeling. Can’t be that clever. Look at the size of the ocean and they still can’t find a hiding place. you can hear whale song from 10 miles away. They need to learn how to whisper.

Deep sea world are going to stop using killer whales in their show. They did a film about that didn’t they? Free Willy. Michael Jackson did the theme tune.

Well if anybody had a bit of a free

Willy…

I saw a Michael Jackson impersonator when I was on holiday this year. Admittedly he didn’t look much like Michael Jackson…but then neither did Michael Jackson.

NO ROOM FOR RACISM.

I saw written on a toilet wall recently the words “There’s No Room for racism.”

And I couldn’t help myself but write underneath, “Actually I think you’ll find room 12B at the headquarters of the KKK…that’s probably one.

CHILCOT ENQUIRY.

The Chilcot enquiry is a bit like Cliff Richard…It’s never coming out.