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Stanley McHale is a single man rapidly approaching thirty who loves and dreams of the same things he did when he was seventeen. But the band was never formed, the novel never finished, and the ill-chosen career in stand-up comedy is giving him more headaches than headlines. With the self-imposed deadline of his thirtieth birthday to either make an international success of himself or go and work in Woolworths, why not pull yourself up ringside seats for the tragically inevitable descent into mania and psychosis by reading his increasingly inane, pedantic, desperate, harrowing and wretched daily diary. It'll make you feel a whole lot better about yourself.

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October 2005 Archives

Monday 31st October 2005

Posted by on October 31, 2005 2:13 PM

I had a meeting this afternoon with a comedy agent. Paula Harrington is an old friend and the partner of Liverpool’s own Chris Cairns.

About a year ago Paula took it upon herself to manage Chris’ career and it went so well she started up her own agency, Tongue In Cheek Comedy Management, which now boasts a stable of six acts.

Chris had mentioned this to me on a night out earlier in the month and it was intriguing, firstly because I could imagine her being very good at that role, and secondly because I’ve been thinking about getting myself some representation in preparation for introducing a new stand-up show of my own.

We met in the Tea Factory and I explained what I was up to, including my ambitious plans that now range from presenting this Blog as a live show next August at the Edinburgh Festival to conquering the world with the Power Of 10 book.

After listening to me drivel on, she explained the thinking behind Tongue In Cheek and it seems like that rarest of things – a morally sound comedy agency whom people will actually like.

In the entertainment biz, there are two main types of agency. Huge, great big multi-nationals, housed in industrial factories that belch out chemical smoke and comedian after comedian, or more personalised ones run from back bedrooms and garden sheds.

I’d say the latter are without question the better, although they can suffer from a low profile and disorganisation. I believe Tongue In Cheek will be a very different proposition entirely. Indeed, almost a new breed of agency, in as much as it will actually be liked by people and not just exist to make money and harass promoters, and so I happily signed up.

Sunday 30th October 2005

Posted by on October 30, 2005 1:17 PM

There was an unexplained power cut late last night. I was sat up in bed reading when the light flickered and then went out at about 2am. I looked around the pitch black room to see if it was only the light bulb, but no, all the little LCDs and everything had gone, and the alarm clock also. I didn’t really care, it was late, so it was a good omen to get some sleep.

Had it been Halloween I might have been slightly more concerned that all the lights had suddenly gone out, imagining someone in an ice hockey mask coming up the stairs to get me. On the other hand, it could just as likely be Jamie Lee Curtis so I’d happily take my chances there.

But being brave and used to living alone I simply went to sleep.

However the following morning my dishwasher wouldn’t work and there was no hot water. I got an empty feeling in the pit of my stomach because I knew why – although the power was back (it had been out for about three hours according to my now blinking alarm clock) it has reset and wiped out the control panel for the heating and water that’s located on the kitchen wall.

This piece of kit is a mystery. I’ve had run-ins with it before, but this time it may have the better of me. It is, quite simply, the most inappropriately complex and un-user friendly piece of ultra moronic trash ever to have produced. It’s impossible to explain. Whatever buttons you press… nothing except insane messages. When I moved into this flat over a year ago I spent several weeks wrestling with it, and now it’s really on the blink.

The block I live in was converted from a grain warehouse in 1989. The technology installed at the time hasn’t been replaced and whilst the world has moved on at pace, this little box of tricks has remained firmly in the luminous sock wearing age of the late eighties.

I can use computers. I’ve edited a whole film on a computer. I can send e-mails, use Photoshop, order my groceries on-line, I’m certainly no luddite, but can I get my water heater on? It’s impossible! Impossible I say!

Saturday 29th October 2005

Posted by on October 29, 2005 2:43 AM

I was listening to Fulham suffer a ridiculously unfair defeat to Wigan this afternoon on Radio Five Live Extra.

The two commentators were someone called Darren Fletcher and the ex-Scotland boss, Craig Brown.

At one point in the game something happened involving the Fulham player, Claus Jensen. He must have jumped for a header and not reached or something because Darren Fletcher said “Well, he’s not the tallest man in the world.�

No, he’s not. Claus Jensen is a man of average height, probably around five foot ten. This is a perfectly adequate height for a footballer to be, but apparently he was being derided on national radio for not being the tallest man alive on the planet.

The world’s tallest man in the world is believed to be Leonid Stadnik, who lives in a tiny village called Podoliantsi in the Ukraine. He is 8’4� tall, and still growing at the age of 33, after having a brain operation at the age of 14 that has messed up some gland or something.

He is approximately two and a half feet taller than Claus Jensen, and so far as I know doesn’t play football, at least not at a professional standard. So if Mr Stadnik manages to get through life without being insulted for not being short enough to have the low centre of gravity desirable in a decent midfielder, why must Claus Jensen come under fire for not having grown to a freakish size? It seemed very unfair.

Then, as if that wasn’t enough, Craig Brown said “And he’s not the quickest man in the world either.�

Friday 28th October 2005

Posted by on October 28, 2005 7:07 PM

Came home from Manchester quite impatient to start writing but got a call from Renata asking if I fancied meeting up for some lunch. I wasn’t hungry having eaten an omelette for breakfast in that old Manchester institution, the O.K. Café. It’s right by Piccadilly Gardens and is quite a comforting place to go because it hasn’t changed an iota since I first ate there about ten years ago. For something to remain unchanged for ten years in Manchester City Centre these days is remarkable.

But I still met with Renata in the Tea Factory. I was dishevelled having not taken a change of clothes with me on the impromptu trip to Manchester and also a bit smelly and unshaven. The Polish are wonderfully tactless and Renata’s opening gambit when she set eyes on me was “Oh hi Stanley. Have you been drinking?�

I found that quite funny because it would suggest that when someone’s been out drinking they automatically adopt a rather tramp-like appearance, as they might in a Hollywood movie. I only wish I could have completed the look with a mucky raincoat and a bottle wrapped in a brown paper bag. Perhaps the effect would be further distinguished if I’d thought to raise both fits in the air and stumble around growling and barking at cars whilst shadow boxing with the distant faces of half-remembered foes.

Thursday 27th October 2005

Posted by on October 27, 2005 3:28 PM

Met Steve from icLiverpool in The Lion at lunchtime to discuss his mathematical calculations for my book idea The Power Of 10.

It’s simpler than I was originally thinking, and I’m confident I know what I’m doing now. I’d taken my computer with me and was able to tap out a couple of notes… Essentially, the book is begun.

I took a stroll around town in the warm autumn sunshine feeling pretty good about things. I was near Lime Street Station and made an impromptu decision to get on a train to visit Athena in Manchester. On route, I again got my computer out (trying and probably failing to not look like either a boring commuter or, more likely, some irritating creative type) and within forty minutes had invented and outlined fifteen chapters for the book.

Met briefly with Athena and then, as she was off home to make herself a bite to eat, sat alone in the excellent Rodeo where I again got the computer out and outlined a further fifteen chapters. A nice, neat, total of 30.

Excellent progress! I’m absolutely sure now that this is a good idea. Any lingering doubts vaporised when I looked though my six page document and saw a complete, if slightly insane, book outlined before me.

As it’s a spoof self-help guide, it needn’t be any longer than 250-300 pages. They generally tend to be even shorter than that don’t they? So that’s a maximum of 10 pages per chapter. So that’s one chapter a day to bring it up to draft standard. Could it really all be that simple?

It wont be, that’s obvious. But by the same measure, having a draft completed by Christmas is certainly possible and that is my aim. That would be a pleasant position to be in when sat around the festive table because I tend to think in terms of possibilities rather than fact. For example, if I’m stony broke but have an idea that could easily make me a millionaire, then I’m a millionaire. That’s the way I’ve always thought. Indeed, I’ve been worth about twenty million for the past ten years.

Wednesday 26th October 2005

Posted by on October 26, 2005 5:55 PM

Received a last minute invitation from Richard and Kerry to attend LaGo’s fifth anniversary party. I didn’t need much enticing as I had then evening to myself and they also promised free booze. Put those two words ‘free’ and ‘booze’ together… see what evil spells you can cast.

The other unnecessary draw was learning that Lizzie Nunnery would be playing, who you’ll know by now is my favourite new singer.

All in all, a recipe for success. And indeed it was, with a good time being had by all. Ms Nunnery was excellent as always and seeing as I’m a showbiz type I spoke with her afterwards. Intriguingly she’s also a script writer, doing stuff for Radio 4.

I think she’d be a good person to capture and put in a cage in the attic. Not only would she entertain you with her great songs, she’d also provide you with lots of original story ideas.

Ha Ha! Not that I’m likely to attempt that! The capture and imprisonment of an innocent person for my own amusement! I ask you!

The evening continued, the wine flowed, and then a young lady from Northern Ireland asked me to dance. Now, if she’d been a lady from Northern Anywhere Else that would have been okay, I could just have hopped around a bit and then explained that I was middle class and therefore unsuited to this sort of thing. I could have ‘Hugh Granted’ it, as we say in the Shires.

Tuesday 25th October 2005

Posted by on October 25, 2005 12:32 PM

Work-wise, today was the most productive in recent memory. With regards to the book idea I blabbed about yesterday, it’s a definite winner. The mathematics of the whole ‘digital year’ thing were the first things to get sorted out but my brain couldn’t take it so I handed the problem via e-mail to the gentleman who runs this site, Steve at icLiverpool, and also my dear old Dad, who’s an engineer by trade.

It turns out that my new ‘Digital Year’ will be about the third the length of a normal year and a day will be about 50-odd hours long. This is great because it’s almost unworkable as a lifestyle choice and that’s what I’m after.

However, there actually exists such a thing as a ‘Decimal Year’, which was invented by the Egyptians and used up until the time of the Romans. They had ten ‘segments’ to a day. Ten months in their year, etc. And it all fitted nicely into the world going around the sun once every 356.25 days. Very clever.

It was the most logical way to keep time ever devised. THEN, the Roman come along and invent two more months, making 12, and the whole thing gets a great deal more complicated.

But my book will not deal with this logical and historic Decimal Time, it will deal with the all together more chaotic Digital Time of my own devising. Enough about this book for now though, there were other interesting work aspects to my day.

An animation company in London have got in touch with the idea that I write some ‘inserts’ (the annoying little bits of film that go at the end of ad breaks and at the end of programmes on TV) for a new poker channel. They’ll be animated and have to be about, yes, poker. The real irony of this is that I read Richard Herring’s Blog daily (you must visit, although he’s ripped me off entirely, at www.richardherring.com/warmingup) and he’s recently been filming a series for this very channel called Heads Up With Richard Herring. The company that have asked me about the inserts also designed that show, and the inserts would inevitably be at both ends of that same show, so that’s a coincidence of sorts.

Obviously Richard gets a slightly sweeter deal, having his very own show to present. I only get to write the little inserts. But it’s still all part of the same big picture. No, it is.

Monday 24th October 2005

Posted by on October 24, 2005 11:46 PM

I got a call from Renata this evening saying that she had run of petrol and could I possibly drive over with a can of unleaded?

This may sound sexist, but it isn’t, it’s fact – women run out of petrol because they drive around without any fuel in their cars.

Get into a car with a woman and steal a glance at the petrol meter. It will, unquestionably, be stuck on zilch with the warning light illuminated. In some girl’s cars, this warning light never goes off, because when they do finally acknowledge that their car won’t run on teddies alone, they’ll go to the petrol station and put in three pounds worth.

It’s like giving a person dying of dehydration a thimbleful of water.

Women and minicab drivers. Both the same. Both living on the edge, running on fumes the whole time.

A man, if he has sufficient funds, will have enough fuel in his car to get him out of any sort of war-like crisis. Men will think in terms of range, not necessarily consciously, but they’ll think about it all the same. Get into any man’s car who’s not a teenager, and he’ll have enough fuel to cover the 100 miles necessary to get out of any emergency, or help anyone in any emergency.

Sunday 23rd October 2005

Posted by on October 23, 2005 5:25 PM

It’s been a pretty heavy and decadent week and today marked the end of it. Next week is all about giving my body a break and getting started on the book. There’s no shortage of enthusiasm regards the book because I’ve already done quite a lot of work plotting it so I know I’m onto a good thing, and also I sense a few people doubt I can do it, which is the best inspiration of all.

Even if it’s not a huge success, just to have one published would be terrific. It would be a big ‘check!’ off my list of potential lifetime achievements.

The other’s really do range in terms of possibility and, therefore, ego. I won’t list them as you’ll think me either odd or ridiculously over ambitious and deranged but they include more achievable ones. Driving a train is one. Going for a hot air balloon ride, another. But then there are some more, shall we say, lofty ones. Becoming a billionaire, that’s in there. Not for greed, you understand, but just to see what you could get up to if everyday had limitless possibilities. Which is a bit greedy, in a way, but it’s more a greed for experiences than the filthy lucre itself. You just happen to need the filthy lucre. Is all this a bit sixth form? Yes.

So today was my last day of ‘holiday’. I watched the football in The Lion, having correctly predicted on Friday’s entry that the score would be 1-1. I should have put a bet on, in retrospect, but obviously if I had done the score would have been 7-3 according to ignorant and wrong scientists.

There’s a crazy theory that if you go back in time and change one little thing then the future will be changed beyond all recognition. This was a scientific theory best demonstrated in Dr Steven Spielberg’s well respected paper ‘Back To The Future’.

Saturday 22nd September 2005

Posted by on October 22, 2005 4:22 PM

A few weeks ago my Mum went to see a homeopath to see if she was allergic to anything. As it turns out, she’s allergic to everything. The food’s she can now healthily eat are red jelly babies and raw mince.

Now, having stuck to the new diet and felt a lot better, she thought my brother might benefit from having some tests done too. Steve has always been fit but gets ill about five times a year and it interrupts work, etc, so it’s an inconvenience as well as being miserable to have to go through. He’s had his results and it turns out he’s the same as Mum, allergic to everything.

He’s now only been off his denied foodstuffs (and that includes beer, his all time favourite foodstuff) for a few days now and says he feels fantastic. Never better.

So if there is a genuine use for this new-fangled homeopathy, perhaps I should try it too? I do occasionally feel tired. But then I’m not normally in bed at ten on the dot.

My fear is getting the results and being told I’m not allowed any of my favourite things ever again. “Mr McHale, we have your results here. It seems you’re allergic to Martinis, fish finger sandwiches, rhubarb crumble, going for a drive, hotels, the fairer sex, long walks in the country, Marmite, air travel, winter evenings and the smell of a freshly cut lawn. Goodbye.�

Friday 21st October 2005

Posted by on October 21, 2005 4:02 PM

I have two friends from Atlanta, Georgia.

One is called Jennifer Trezza. The other is called Aria Zambataro. It’s quite important to only associate with people who have excellent names, don’t you think?

Both have recently made bold moves in their young lives. Jennifer, who’s been unhappy with Atlanta for a while, has moved to Denver, and by all accounts is practically reborn.

Aria, I discovered today, is getting married to a British guy who she met in London, so an eventual move is on the cards for her too.

Obviously both will be moving for different reasons, but it still goes to show what value there is in relocating, and travel in general. I used to live in London before moving to Liverpool about five years ago. You’re forced to change in yourself, find new acquaintances, refind your feet. It’s exciting and rewarding.

I can’t see myself moving from Liverpool anytime in the near future, but if things started to feel a little stagnant, that’s exactly what I’d do to breath a bit of life back into life. I do occasionally consider where good relocations may take me… If I were to stay in Britain, and it would be foolish not to at he moment, it would probably be Glasgow. Glasgow’s a fine city.

All that anti-English stuff is real enough but in my experience reserved for that certain type of English person who strolls into somewhere foreign looking like they own the place and has no regard for slightly altering cultures. They get targeted, and quite rightly.

I’ve never had a bad experience in Scotland. Quite the opposite. There’s a bit of banter, sure, but that’s practically enjoyable. Glasgow is a particularly intelligent place too… It’s ignorance they hate, not the fact you’re from Southampton. And besides, I’ve the surname to barter with.

Thursday 20th October 2005

Posted by on October 20, 2005 3:40 PM

My new love for martinis continues. But it’s a steep leaning process.

First of all, this is the devil overlord of all cocktails and so can’t be approached lightly. After all, it’s neat booze, there’s no mixer (save the slight dilution from having been mixed with ice), and so the effects over, say, a vodka and tonic are exaggerated. An amateur martini fan, such as myself, must learn to note the effect of each subsequent drink and over time build up a map of knowledge surrounding this momentous beast.

The second thing I’ve had to learn to deal with on ordering a Vodka Martini is people assuming you want to appear like James Bond. It’s actually an unhappy coincidence that this was 007’s tipple of choice. Although, as the barman today pointed out, Bond has his ‘Shaken, not stirred’, which is technically a Vodka-Tini. You’d expect Bond, or technically Ian Fleming, to have realised this.

I wonder if Bond ever got corrected in some Monaco casino?

“Vodka Martini, shaken not stirred.�

“I’m sorry, Sir?�

“Vodka Martini, shaken not stirred.�

“Shaken?�

“Yes, damn it all!�

“Then surely Sir is requesting a Vodka-Tini?�

“I’ve got a gun.�

“But of course. One Vodka Martini coming up.�

Wednesday 19th October 2005

Posted by on October 19, 2005 5:14 PM

I’m still experimenting with the film and so again spent much of my day in front of a screen. But I got distracted, as ever, by the infinite mystery of the internet and started wasting time by looking at other people’s obsessions.

The best thing about the internet is that it’s given excessive compulsives their perfect platform. For example, remember Knight Rider, the 80’s crime-fighting series staring David Hasselhoff and a futuristic car? Well I was trying to do a bit of research to see just how popular Hasselhoff is as a pop star in Germany (the answer is very, very popular) and inadvertently found myself at a site dedicated to Knight Rider.

The site (www.knightrideronline.com) proudly boasts that it is the ‘oldest and greatest’ of all the Knight Rider sites on the internet, and once inside the site you notice that it is indeed a carefully constructed effort, done by a man (and call me presumptuous but I’m guessing it’s a man) clearly obsessed with Knight Rider.

In the grey, boring past, before such things as the internet (unimaginable now), this man would have either been incredibly frustrated, unable to find a proper forum to discuss Knight Rider, and enough people similarly obsessed with Knight Rider to form any sort of a community. Now, simply typing Knight Rider into Google takes you to his Knight Rider world in a single click.

Or maybe he felt ashamed, hiding in the shadows, worried that his love of Michael Knight and his crime fighting car was in some way strange or wrong? He probably avoided talking to people about it, in case he was cast out from the village, and forced to live in a wood.

But now! Now he has found his voice, set up his own church, and although that church is the Church Of Knight Rider, that’s still a magnificent thing.

Tuesday 18th October 2005

Posted by on October 18, 2005 2:21 AM

Many thanks to Crystal for being the first non-me player to submit a £10k+ score on Quote Me Crappy.

I’ll not normally post a player’s score in such a prestigious and prominent position to be read by six people but Quote Me Crappy has been suffering from a lack of players of late and so perhaps this will wet the whistle of the fools amongst you who’ve not yet competed, or indeed bust at the first attempt.

Crystals’ hand was;

NAME :Peter Price
Age: 17
ACCIDENTS IN LAST 5 YEARS: 0
MOTORING OFFENCES IN PAST TWO YEARS: 0
OCCUPATION: Unemployed.
CAR: MAZDA MX-5 CALIFORNIA CABRIOLET 1998-2000 1598cc CABRIOLET
VALUE OF CAR: £16000
MILES PER YEAR: 20,000.

INSURANCE: ITS4ME £10209.28

If we analyse the play, we see some immediate skill – look at the age of her driver (nice), look at the tactful complete lack of accidents (nice), and then the counter attack of playing the ‘unemployed’ card. It’s great work.

It’s art, is what it is.

Then look at Crystal’s subtlety and imagination in creating this decent £10k+ score – she’s gone for a Mazda MX-5, (a model once owned by my own Mother).

Now – this is excellent Quote Me Crappy thinking, a young male driver with a clean record in a modest but sporty ladies car.

Crystal could have gone for an Aston Martin but NO! She HELD BACK! She looked at the other players around the table and kept her cool. The Mazda was an excellent play. Cheeky, yes. But not suicidal. And when you’ve spent fifteen minutes filling out the Confused.com form, you don’t want to get cocky on it's ass.

Monday 17th October 2005

Posted by on October 17, 2005 5:53 PM

I mentioned a few days ago in one of my gripping technical updates for TTDIDWYD that the process of burning the now finished film to DVD could potentially throw up complications.

Maybe I jinxed myself? That’s unlikely, it was so DENINATELY going to throw up complications that today’s problems were met with a despondent shaking of the head rather than full-blown panic or outrage.

I know it’s not interesting, but if I write it down here it at least gets it off my chest. And gives me evidence that it’s technical problems and not merely idleness that are delaying the film further. Also, I suppose there’s a slim chance one of the six people that read this site will know about DVD Studio Pro 4 and be able to give me some pointers.

I realise you don’t care for this technical nonsense but here’s my problem. There are two aspect settings for video. Standard (4:3), which is a standard sized TV picture. Or Widescreen (16:9) which is, yes, a widescreen image.

Now the film has been shot in widescreen, 16:9. It has been edited in 16:9. It has been exported from the editing software to the DVD software in 16:9. It get previewed on the screen in 16:9. It gets burnt to the disc in 16:9. And then when you put the disc into the player under the damned TV it gets shown in 4:3!!! It makes no sense I tell you! No sense! None!

Sunday 16th October 2005

Posted by on October 16, 2005 2:28 PM

I took myself out for a walk around town this evening to see what trouble I could get myself into.

I pity people who never go out alone, or indeed find the idea of going out alone to be inconceivably alien. There are those who simply can’t imagine going to the pub or going to a bar in their own company, nor even going for a relaxing stroll or going to watch a film.

I spend the vast majority of my time alone and it suits me fine. I like to think I’m decent enough company but I’ve also got used to enjoying days at a time without any human contact at all. I think it’s healthy, I really do. It helps make you a better person. If you can’t stand to be with yourself, who else would wish to have you as a friend? Spending time alone allows you (forces you, even) to become someone whom people will gladly be around.

I’m actually quite mistrusting of people who constantly need other people’s company. True, there’s nothing wrong in being a ‘people person’, but to NEED to be around other people permanently… I think that shows a weakness. Solitude naturally means you have to entertain yourself with your own thoughts, to become more introspective, and people who can’t stand that are either scared of themselves or have absolutely no character.

I know this sounds like an outrageously stupid thing to say; but I think I’d quite suit prison. So long as it wasn’t an epic stretch. And there was a bar. I think a two year stretch would be fine. So long as I was permitted a computer, I’d get so much done. Three novels, easily. Probably five. Sell those, retire on the royalties, then scoot off around the world for the rest of my years.

Imagine that! Using prison for career advancement. No rent to pay, no taxes. No worries. Sat safely in your cell for 23 hours a day coming up with stories.

Saturday 15th October 2005

Posted by on October 15, 2005 2:01 PM

Amongst the hundreds of names listed in the closing credits of a film, I’m surprised there isn’t one with the job description ‘Lots of little things that everyone forgot about.’ Or ‘Negligence corrector’. Or ‘Sweeper upper of small but essential tasks’.

What I’m learning about trying to produce a short film is that whenever you think it’s finished, you find more stuff to add or correct. So you do those tasks and realise there’s a batch more.

I can see the scenario whereby the damned thing will still be occupying me in five years time. A tweak here, re-recording a bit of voiceover there.

And I’ve not got to actually burning the DVD yet. That will throw up a fresh wasps nest of irritating problems.

I know you’re all fascinated by the minor details of this project so don’t you worry, I’ll keep you updated daily with my progress.

I was walking up Bold Street today and saw that the elderly man who plays the violin (very badly) for small change has got cuts and bruises all over his face. This rather saddened me because it’s never nice to see the elderly injured is it? Unless it’s Pol Pot, or Pinochet, or Maggie. Then it’s fine, but as a general rule…

Friday 14th September 2005

Posted by on October 14, 2005 6:39 PM

TDTIDWYD was finally finished today at around 8pm, after a marathon editing session. I’m really happy with it and hope it’ll open some doors. My other concern is that everyone at The Modern Drunkard likes it.

Strangely, I received an e-mail from Christa at the TMD moments after completing the film and so decided to ring her back with the news. And then there was only one act of this long, long process left to perform; to go out and get some drinks down me.

I had a few in The Lion which had a glorious atmosphere tonight. It was busy, but just at that perfect level where you can stand at the bar without being in anyone’s way and listen to the lively hum of conversation and laughs.

There’s a new barmaid working there now which is always a bonus. When a few female member of staff starts working in your local, it’s your duty to impress her immediately with your wit and drinking skills. It’s no coincidence that these two tasks are joined at the hip – demonstrating your drinking skills will undoubtedly lead to a sharpening of your wit.

When a new male member of staff starts working in your local you simply need to investigate his character and interests to establish whether he’s going to be simply a beer monkey pulling you a pint or a friend and confidant you can spend many long evenings chatting with about your troubles.

It’s always amazing to me when landlords employ ugly girls to work behind their bar. This may sound like an awful thing to say and I can assure you it doesn’t apply to any of the girls working in The Lion, but it’s a simple truth that pubs are mainly populated by men (during the day at least) and the staff behind the bar are the one’s who will provide these men with the precious human contact they’ve come in search for.

Who the hell wants to have any sort of contact with a spotty teenager called Martin when you can sit there boring a lovely young lady with your lies instead?

Thursday 13th October 2005

Posted by on October 13, 2005 3:43 PM

I will continue with Pathetic Lot of course. There are three good reasons for doing so. Firstly, it’s a great exercise for me and if I manage to keep it going for a year and even beyond, it breaks my hoodoo of starting projects and then dumping them. Further, I’m really keen to get a live stand-up show out of it come next August in time for Edinburgh. Although this Blog is normally about as funny as an orphanage on fire, it is still useful in coming up with ideas, and ideas are often hard to come by when writing stand-up. I’ve said before, getting on stage and performing the ideas is the easy bit.

Secondly, who am I to abandon my six readers? The Echo might see fit to abandon their faithful followers but I’m not made of the same stuff, let me tell you!

Thirdly, it’s now quite a good opportunity to gently make fun of The Echo on their own website. I don’t bear them any grudge (yesterday’s poorly written entry was a drunken stab at the keyboard having just got home from The Lion and opened my mail), so I’m not going to be nasty. But it will be amusing to be able to comment on any stories they run without the fear of loosing my little ol’ columnists job. It will be a bit like when Terry Wogan always used to have little digs at the BBC in whatever he happened to be saying on the BBC whilst being paid by the BBC. We all remember his ‘Well I was down at the old BBC canteen…’ jokes. I wonder if any senior executives at the BBC ever thought ‘Hang on! We’re paying this bloke and all he does is slag us off! Get him up here!’

Oh, and I’ve just thought of a fourth reason. To find an eventual winner to Quote Me Crappy. Not as many people as I’d hoped have played, but yesterday I got a comment from Polly (Hello Polly) who’d played an ambitious hand and bust. I must stress, with CMC, moderation is the key.

OH! And a fifth reason! Wow, so many reasons. The fifth reason is that I was speaking to the good people at The Modern Drunkard yesterday and they’ve posted a link to Pathetic Lot from their own excellent Blog, which can be found at www.moderndrunkardmagazine.com/blog/. Do go and visit their stylish and funny effort. Don’t give up reading this one though, even though it’s not as good or as well written, that’s not the idea. Read both. Both are good in their own way.

Wednesday 12th October 2005

Posted by on October 12, 2005 2:39 AM

Always one enthusiastic for post, I picked up a letter today addressed from The Echo newspaper, for whom I occasionally write a column.

I pick up my post every three days or so. It doesn’t arrive through my door, which would be happy and delightful, but instead gets dropped, and often rammed, though a European-style post box near the lift in the apartment block in which I live.

The reason I generally give a three day delay is that nobody these days can write a letter, and even fewer can be bothered to post one. And so my normal pick-up contains a few circulars, between one and three bills, or perhaps nothing at all.

Predicting the mail has become like predicting the rising sun. Always intriguing, but absolutely predictable to the minute.

Today, the previously aforementioned letter from the Echo was dated the 30th of September. It was basically a notice saying I was fired.

Let me give you a little background…

Tuesday 11th October 2005

Posted by on October 11, 2005 3:19 AM

I enjoyed a trip to the Spar shop again today. I have to say ‘Spar shop’ in case any of you misunderstand and think I regularly take trips to the spa, like a Roman.

If Liverpool had a Spa, I’d definitely use it. I’d probably get up early and go down there about 6am and sit in the steam room. If you’ve got an idea about what time of day you’d use a fictional historical spa then do please let the group know using the comments section below.

In the Spar shop, I picked up some essentials like bread, soup and fabric conditioner. After walking around the shop for five minutes, I’d managed to fill the basket and so then walked over and placed it on the counter.

The look of astonishment the man serving managed to give me would make anyone assume I’d just put a baby alligator on the counter, not a modest collection of foodstuffs.

He simply could not BELIEVE that I had around 15 items, and looked at me in disbelief.

‘Bloody hell!’ he said. He literally said that. ‘Got a load here, haven’t you, lad?’

I find it surprising what passes for unusual these days. Did this man really lead such an uneventful life that he finds a basket full of shopping as surprising as an asteroid smashing through the roof of the shop and making a huge crater in the floor? That’s how surprised he looked.

Then he said ‘Do you want a bag?’

I looked at him, and then I looked at his colleague who’d also heard this. The colleague said ‘Bloody hell, John.’

I quite liked the fact that even in a shop where they dislike giving out plastic bags and only do so grudgingly if you specifically ask this was deemed a stupid enough question for it treaded with derision a fellow employee.

Monday 10th October 2005

Posted by on October 10, 2005 2:28 PM

As promised, here’s a Quote Me Crappy update.

For those of you not familiar with the craze (invented right here within the electronic pages of Pathetic Lot) that’s sweeping the world like Pokemon or The Garbage Pail Kids, you need to visit WEDNESDAY 5th OCTOBER.

I played my second game today and managed a very proud looking score.

Here are the details;

NAME: Barry Diamond.
AGE: 20 years.
ACCIDENTS IN LAST 5 YEARS: 1
MOTORING OFFENCES IN PAST TWO YEARS: 2
OCCUPATION: Security Guard.
CAR: Subaru Impreza WRX, 2000cc, 2003.
VALUE OF CAR: £12,000
MILES PER YEAR: 20,000.

Only two companies were greedy enough to insure this young man on the country’s roads and they were…

Sunday 9th October 2005

Posted by on October 9, 2005 12:59 AM

I ended up lodging at Athena’s again last night. This was primarily because I’d chosen to have a few pints watching the England match rather than do the sensible thing and drive back home.

I should have mentioned yesterday - instead of writing about Atomic Train - that I’d got up too late to put money in the meter for the car. This annoyed me at first because it’s £30 torn up and thrown into the wind, but then I reconsidered…

The one advantage of receiving a parking ticket is that once you’ve got one, you’re good for the day. You can’t receive another. This means you might as well leave the car there, indignantly wearing a yellow sticker, and get on with having a good time.

If you’re going to have to pay £30, you might as well get £10 worth of free parking out of it.

So that was what I did with the car all of yesterday. Gave it up for dead.

So yesterday evening I walked to my motor to collect the ticket and put some money in the meter for the following morning. And there was no ticket for the last day's stay...

Not even a little one!

They’d had every opportunity to ticket it from 10am when I’d paid up to, right through until six. Eight hours of ticketing bliss.

And as you’ll know or have learnt about Manchester ticket wardens, (see 3rd October), you’ll rarely escape their evil, reptilian stare for more than eight minutes, let alone eigh