So as regular readers may know I’m a bit of a creature of habit. And one of the regular features in my life is the early morning routine. Carol and I are early risers and usually downstairs by 6.30am or so. It’s usually a cuppa for Carol then at one minute to 7am it’s Converse sneakers on and I pop out and over to the little Co-op store in the market square to be first through the door to go and pick up my morning paper, the i. And occasionally some milk. Continue reading
I’ve just been catching up with C4’s Big Fat Quiz of the Year. There’s nothing on the box worth watching at the moment. I’m not a very big fat fan of the show nor Jimmy Carr to be honest but I do find David Mitchell droll (and he’s married to Victoria Coren so respect, man) and Richard Ayoade is nicely dry. Kevin Bridges, Mickey Flanagan and Sarah Millican can be fun too (though Mickey Flanagan outside of his stage shows is nowhere near as funny as he likes to think he is). But what on earth was Mel B, or whatever her name is, doing on the show? She’s not just unfunny, she is incredibly sour and angry at everything. There’s just no humour or light-side in the woman and that Yerksher accent is just ser grating. She must be a nightmare to live with, which is presumably why every relationship she’s been in usually ends with the fella scuttling away rapidly after some dramatic falling out. Or Escape from old Coldtitz as I prefer to call her relationship conclusions. Continue reading
There’s a new sit-com just started on the radio. Based in Geordieland it’s called ‘Y’a tarkin shite man’ and it involves the goings-on at a shambolically-managed footie club affectionately known as the Doon, so called because, as the locals put it, that’s where the club’s gannin’ next season.
I used to like watching Ricky Gervais enormously. ‘The Office’ was a brilliant concept and the follow up ‘Extras’ was extraordinarily ambitious and funny too, when the humour was self-deprecating and aimed very much at his own character Andy Millman or his close circle of hapless associates or when he was pricking the pomposity of his celebrity guests. But to me it became rather uncomfortable viewing when the focus of the humour was re-directed away from the fame-hungry and towards some easier targets like the Down’s boy in the restaurant, the girl with celebral palsy, the dwarf actor and perhaps even the outrageously camp BBC tv producer of Andy’s programme ‘When the whistle blows’, in the second series.
Speaking of really funny guys have you nerticed how many so-called comedians and comic actors are just not that funny? I’m not talking about those sad old gits still crucifying the comedy arts like Bruce frigging Forsyth, Ronnie ‘the tapper’ Corbett, Little and Large, Cannon and Ball and Lenny Henry. Nor am I talking about those giants of the US comedy scene like Robin Williams, Eddie Murphy and Steve Martin who became totally sterile of humour the moment somebody in La La land told them they were accomplished film actors rather than great stand-ups.
Well the British Comedy Awards event , in its 21st year, finds itself two new homes – on C4 and at the Indigo venue at the O2. About time, some might say, that it grew up a bit. And has it? Well here’s a shot of the presenters of the first award; a big Irishman with a dwarf on his shoulders. Now I happen to think Dara O’Briain is brilliant and that Warwick Davis is a hugely talented comic actor but this was as close to a visual Jim Davidson joke as I’ve seen in recent years. Mature? Not really. Bizarre? Just a little. And these weren’t the only odd things on the night.
I’ve been watching a fair bit of Comedy Central which is full of American sitcoms from the last 10 years or so. I’m a big fan of King of Queens, the story about a new York delivery driver and his sassy wife starring the very funny Kevin James and Leah Remini. And the programme Two and a Half Men with Charlie Sheen playing himself has grown on me a lot, ditto Scrubs, which is different and archly funny at the same time. Speaking of healthcare, Becker, the irascible New York doctor is grumpily familiar and I like him a lot (strange that). I also quite like Rules of Engagement (because of the women) and even Everybody Loves Raymond with Ray Romano – the voice of Mannie the mammoth has its bright moments. I don’t think I can be accused of not liking US humour then but…. the one programme that leaves me as cold as 3 day old rice pudding is Sex and the City. It’s about as funny as anal warts. It’s not a programme aimed at 50 odd year old unromantic men is it?
Well this is the first posting in ages. We’ve been over in the UK, busy as ever, catching up with the family and friends and chasing business etc. I’ve just not had the chance to get any blogs done although look at all the stuff I’ve missed rabbiting on about: Obama’s oh boy! election victory, the collapse of the world banking system (though sadly not our bloody bank), the massacre in Mumbai, the whole dreadful baby P situation and those other earth-shattering news stories – Gaunty’s sacking from redneck radio (who’d have thunk it?), John Sargeant’s painfully funny Paso Doble, Ruth Lorenzo’s double-barrelled performances on X Factor and the dilemma over who is the biggest prize prick on I’m a Celeb GMOOH; Timmy ‘howls at the moon’ Mallett or that bleached blond gimp David van Day. The man who declared ‘I know women; I’ve been around them all my life -first with Bucks Fizz then with Dollar’. Well I make that just the 3 women then David during your illustrious career. I came across more than that every morning in the family bathroom. Continue reading