I’m not sure if you ever have those moments of sheer self doubt? Those ones where you think ‘have I got it all wrong?’ This happens to me on a rather regular occurrence. Every time I go round a roundabout for example, I get the extreme fear that perhaps I’m going the wrong way, or maybe I should be waiting for the people on my left rather than my right, or maybe I should be in a car. Today, I’ve just written a joke with the punchline ‘Valentine’s Day Moussaka’. I was, at first, hugely proud of this, but now, on second thoughts, I’m concerned about my gag writing ability. I’m here trying to write mind blowing stuff for my show at the LCF in two weeks and in the last two days I’ve come up with a pun about a conundrum being a type of difficult to play percussion instrument and a play on the word ‘massacre’ involving a potato dish. What I realised as I was doing this is that nothing particularly exciting happens to me on a day to day basis for me to write anything insightful about it, hence mere punnery. Where are all those strange people that will allow me to make hilarious and clever anecdotes about such things and then reflect on the state of society/environment/wars? Instead these are the few things that I can honestly relay have been remotely interesting since the day of hell yesterday:
Non-Interesting Thing #1:
Last night me and Layla went to the supermarket. This is not the fact, don’t worry. My life hasn’t got quite that dull yet. If anything, the fact we shop on a Monday or sometimes other week nights, makes us less than dull. It puts us into that special breed of people that are so cool that we are too busy to go on weekends when the general dross of humanity go. Instead, we mosey over on a Monday night, while others are recovering from their first day back at work, and peruse the rather empty aisles without having to bash anyone’s trolley or slightly nudge people till we can reach the low fat cheddar. This is what I like to believe anyway.
Normally, shopping on a Monday night means you are in the supermarket with weirdos. Proper lonely weirdos. The sort of people who shop on a Monday hoping no one else will see they’ve emerged from their den made of sadness and the hope that their facebook friends count as real ones. I have, in the past, been privvy to many a mental at our local Sainsbury’s at the beginning of the week: large singing bearded men, shouty angry ladies, one woman who never ever put anything in her trolley but would pick lots of things up, inspect them thoroughly and then put them back. Yesterday however was different. There was a very large amount of elderly Afro-Caribbean ladies in the shop. Not particularly odd you might say, and you’d be right. No, that wasn’t the strange bit. What was strange was that they all, individually, seemed only to be buying fizzy drinks and mince meat. Scary huh? What does this mean? I really really don’t know and I’m a little scared.
Non-Interesting Thing #2:
This is in fact two non-interesting things about cats. You might actually find them interesting, but I am aware that lots of people talk about cats and ‘oh how funny they are’ to a sickening level. My problem is, being at home all day, our two cats are often the only living things I see for about 5 hours of my day. So, as a disclaimer to those such as Michael of Legge, who think cats are the children of Satan (this theory may make sense. If they lived in hell they could constantly curl up by the fire) this bit may well be dull.
Firstly, our cat Rosie has decided to take it upon herself to tear the living shit out of every toilet roll we put in the loo. So far she has completely shredded up 4 rolls. I don’t know if you’ve ever tried to use several shreds of toilet roll for, er, toilet things, but let me tell you, its not easy. I can’t understand what threat she thinks they pose. It doesn’t move, it doesn’t hiss or do anything like that, its just bog roll. I can only conclude that she writes secret documents on it, sends them over to cat HQ and then has to shred them when done. Either that or she just really fucking hates the Andrex Puppy.
Secondly, we keep getting cat visitors. I have mentioned this before, but since then the front cover of the cat flap has fallen off and other cats seem to think this is an invitation to just pop in. Three tiny kittens in particular, all of whom are very cute, but also really really ballsy. The small black and white one will happily stroll in, eat all out cats food and then hiss at Rosie and Bella if they try to get upset. I have decided that while its irritating in a way, this tiny ball of fur must be the feline equivalent of Joe Pesci. Why else would our cats be deterred by the sort of hiss you get from a cheap deflating balloon? I would shoo it away but I think my cats needs to man up (even though they are both girls) and deal with Tommy DeKito.
That’s it. That’s the extent of excitement in the Douieb household. I think I might have to start wandering the land barefoot like Kane from Kung Fu in order to have anything to talk about for my show. Please, if any of you know of anything exciting, or are particularly weird/brilliant/scary then feel free to slightly mess my life up, but in a way that I can easily say is to do with the government’s ‘nanny state’ or something similar. Thanks. God, its like I have to do all the work or something.
