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Gary Sibon tweeted me to say that he was watching Fist of Fun on DVD and had been transported back to the 1990s. He included a screen grab from an episode (I believe the one where Peter has just eaten my jarred father) and I was surprised to see how smoking hot I was. I was the good looking one. Definitely compared to Peter, but maybe even compared to stupid-haired Stewart Lee. Pretty slim and unraddled by time’s stinking finger. If only I had known. I mean I am obviously the hot one now, if you’re into 50-something men, which sadly no one is.
Five hours sleep did not prove to be enough to get me through the day today. Though we were mainly spending our time prepping for Ernie’s second birthday party, which is inexplicably tomorrow. It certainly can’t be two years since he was born, so this must be something to do with Brexit. But anyway, with little sleep and energy there was clearly no better time to go out and look for presents and party supplies. It only took about three hours but by the end I would have happily laid down and died, telling my wife not to tell anyone til Sunday so as not to spoil the party.
The supermarket shop was further complicated by a glass jar of peanut butter breaking as we put it in our trolley. Usually I’d have been able to cope with such an eventuality, but my only clear route to getting home was to have no complications and it was almost impossible to work out what to do. Would it matter if our party supplies were possibly sprinkled with broken glass? And peanut butter too which would also help finish off anyone with allergies. I found some staff members who helped me out. But didn’t kill me, which would have been the real kindness.
I had no time to write scripts or book guests for RHLSTP, only having an hour to catch up on blogs and write blurbs for last night’s shows before having to take Ernie to pick up Phoebe from school. I somehow entertained these idiots til after their dinner and when my wife took over at bath time I had a little lie-down and fell asleep for 45 minutes. I am too old for this shit. But what can I do? I don’t have time to invent an age reversing machine. And that is my ultimate tragedy.
Because I'd love another go at being the young bloke in that photo, but with the knowledge that I am actually quite a hot piece of ass.
