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Friday 23rd November 2012

I am concerned by how little control I have over the various Mes from Me vs Me snooker. They are like naughty imps who do their own thing regardless of what slight plans I might have made. In a podcast that might rock the whole Me vs Me Snooker Organisation Me 1 admitted to be a homophobe. That is not something I even realised was in me at all, so to hear even a part of me declaring such obnoxious sentiments (even if there was perhaps an element of gamesmanship involved) shook me to the core. I don't know what repercussions there will be for the game or for the players, but if you want to find out all about the controversy then head to the British Comedy Guide or iTunes.
Me 1 is from a different era and comments that might have passed by unremarked in the 1980s are no longer acceptable, but maybe he has also been hit by the reality of his role in the downfall of his original nemesis. It's complicated stuff and I don't feel I am in a position to talk for any of the players.
The commentators, perhaps upset by what had gone on before did not do a great job of describing an exciting frame. You have to ask that if they're struggling to come up with similes for a ball jiggling around in the pocket after just 23 frames then maybe they're not up to this job. It shouldn't be that hard to make a man playing himself at snooker over and over again in a basement interesting.
Only Referee 1 seems to be acquitting himself well.
What's worrying for me is that these characters seem to be able to act independently of me and do and say things that I would not do or say. And I can't stop them. But as long as they only have control for half an hour a week I guess it's OK. And as long as the snooker is of top quality I suppose it's worth it, but I am as much in the dark as to what is going to happen next as you are. I suppose it's when the whole podcast is just a gap in my memory that I really have to check myself in somewhere. But what if all these dopplegangers that people have been seeing around the country are actually really me with a different one of my essentially similar personalities controlling my body?
That would be bad.
I had a pint of San Miguel beer at the Bush Theatre tonight. It is such a gassy beer that even after pouring and having it's head removed three times by the barman, it kept on growing and overflowing like some kind of witch's brew. I thought it might be the never-ending pint of beer that my grandad had once done a mildly racist joke about and that if I sipped it slowly enough I would be able to drink to my heart's content and never have to replenish the glass. But physics was against me, though the gaseous nature of the lager did mean that it lasted quite a long time. I recommend it if you get the chance. It's like a drink and a science project and a magic trick all rolled into one. But best of all it gets you pissed.
One more entry and ten years are fulfilled. Ten years lost. Unless I can't think of anything to write about tomorrow, in which case I'll just pack it in.

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