Wednesday, June 22, 2005

Sorted the comments out. Emailed Jon Ronson whose talent, I now realise, was never in doubt. It's just me. I have a problem. Put up posters in pub. Ordered beer - felt it was the least I could do as they were giving over some of their disgustingly filthy windows to me - and realised had no cash in my pocket. Discovered that fliers for Kicked Into Touch are not legal tender. Barmaid placed beer in fridge as I trundled off to the bank. Came back, had to wait inordinate amount of time for two fat blokes to order orange cordial before my pre-pulled beer was handed to me. Said: "Oh, that's how they pull beer in Eastenders," which made barmaid pull face. Went to ILR station and had it confirmed that nothing had been confirmed. DJ in question "in a meeting", according to receptionist, who added, "I should be in that meeting too, but, well, I'm not." Tutted at her. Went to other pub popular with rugby league crowd with posters and fliers. It was shut but middle-aged landlady outside drooling over big glass of blackcurrant. "Are you shut?" "Yes, he's away so I'm only opening at night," she winked. Handed her posters and fliers, which she dropped on the floor in provocative Barbara Windsor manner. Did not attempt to purchase beer at this establishment but ran back to car. Tonight, we're off to "an evening of wordplay and horseplay between four grown men who should know seen through surreal goggles". Sounds dirty. And reminds me to ask Pik, if he's reading, if Tony Petch is the dad of one of his friends?

*Note to self: Do not post blog entry about how much didn't enjoy show if this is the case. Stop being honest. Shut up complaining and simply enjoy 'everything'. Order enough drinks in case bar shuts. Get one in for Colin H if he's there. Perhaps take Albert Camus book to read before show starts to create right impression. Announce to anyone that will listen, as did a novelist at an event I attended recently, that I am a writer and I have the script to prove it. Hand out fliers as I do this, quote ticket prices and box office telephone numbers. Disappear up my own proverbial.

Listening: The Paddingtons - Some Old Girl

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