Tuesday 25th October 2005

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.

The other good worky thing that happened today (and this is all so rare, I NEVER get excited about work, why would anyone?) is that I contacted a new agent to get the stand-up back on track. I was working of some material yesterday and found it to be far more natural and, indeed, funnier than all the old stuff I used to do. Time will tell of course. Well, AUDIENCES will tell, but I’m confident. I’m meeting the agent (who’s the girlfriend of a comedian friend of mine so that’s a good start) on Sunday for a chat.

All in all, come seven O’clock, I felt I deserved a pint and so headed for The Lion to do the quiz.

I’ve got my own technique for pub quizzes. I don’t become part of a team, for that would show my considerable ignorance. No, what I do is stand around aloofly in the vicinity of about three different teams and then when I know the answer to one of the questions I just lean into one of the teams and tell them what it is, regardless of whether they already know. This gives the effect of me being a pompous know-it-all, which is pretty much the look I’m going for.

John The Landlord was also employing this tactic last night so we did it in tandem together. I suppose we were our own team, there to offer unnecessary support to others.

After that I moved onto Quiggins where there’s a very nice young barmaid working of a Tuesday. Unfortunately, just as I was going in, someone I know staggered out – drunk to hell – and saw me. He insisted he returned to the bar with me for a drink. I really didn’t want this because I’m only happy drinking with drunk people when I’m also heavily under the influence and this wasn’t the case tonight – I was practically sober. He was atrocious company because he insisted on complimenting me every other sentence, calling me ‘Stan The Man’, and then introducing me to everyone that passed in our direction as ‘Stan The Man.’

“Hey Hey! You! Do you know Stan The Man? He’s Stan The Man.�

He also, by association, wasn’t doing my chances with the nice new barmaid any favours. The fact she was there with her boyfriend also didn’t bode well. So I downed by free pint and made my exit, disappointed.

I decided to end my modest night with a Martini and so headed up to the Tea Factory. Once I got to the door I noticed it was spectacularly busy, especially for a normally docile Tuesday, and not only that there was some young haircut on the door charging an entrance fee.

“What’s all this?� I asked.

“Funky house night!� The haircut beamed, happy in his role. “Cheap drinks, all shots of Jaegarmeister a pound! Some fit birds in there - and some people from Hollyoaks too!�

I stared at him. “Hollyoaks?� I then immediately turned on my heels and marched off.

How ludicrous to try and sell entrance to an establishment by advertising that members of the annoying teeny soap were in attendance. There’s nothing that would keep me away from a bar more than those people. Apart from perhaps an outbreak of Bird Flu.

I crossed St Peters’ Square and had my Martini in the now ridiculously popular Alma De Cuba. I took the drink upstairs where there’s a little private bar. I was the only person in there save a barman – perfect.

Alone in a deep leather chair with my Martini, making notes for the book. And not a member of Hollyoaks in sight.

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