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I am sorry I have been missing in action yet again…I am in London and the web has been slightly dodgy. I am in an amazing apartment thanks to the people at Crown lawn who always make me feel like a princess, which is nice. I do love this part of London, I am in Kensington/Chelsea and not far from the world famous galleries like Natural History Museum, Victoria and Albert museum and exhibition centre’s like the one at Earls Court. There are wonderful wee restaurants locally and a nice wee bit called little France…and well yes…its al French! I love it. The weather is bright and breezy and the gigs are going great. I am on Woman’s hour on BBC radio 4 this Friday. This feels less of a blog and more of a ‘Letter to my Mummy’ kind of style today isn’t it? Sorry am groggy and tired and stayed up too late and travelled on too many trains and buses and stood on too many stages and I am tired! Today I am off to Oxford to do a gig there and I do adore Oxford, so beautiful and stunning looking, I am excited. Husband is here with me but we haven’t seen much of each other as I am always out working and he hangs out near the apartment. I come home late at night, tired and missing Ashley and him at times. He is slightly grumpy because the TV we have here does not have extensive TV channels and it makes him insane as he is spoiled with our TV back in Glasgow which has loads of channels to choose from. But like all things…we have to prevail. I had some meeting this week with TV people, nothing I can confirm or write home about yet…but will let you know if it all works out. |
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I am finally home….well at least for a wee while. I was in London and my laptop was so screwed up my blog suffered. I do love London though trying to do comedy with fireworks banging in the background was eternally annoying. I went up to Oxford to perform comedy and met up with Rose Gentle. Rose is from Glasgow and was at the death inquest of her son. She is the mother of Gordon Gentle who died at age 19 years old in Iraq when a road side bomb killed him. The UK armed services failed to provide the necessary equipment to detect landmines. To make matters worse, it was the Iraq people who took Gordon to hospital not our own Armed Services, the Iraq doctors tried to keep him alive as the army took to long to get to his damaged body. He died. Rose has taken on the might of the army and was in fine spirits when we met up. She has battled with the government over the last four years to get justice for her boy. Rose tells me that Gordon loved being a soldier, but the army failed to give him equipment that would have saved his life and that’s the issue she deals with. They have now made ten amendments alone to the uniform after Rose drew attention to the issue, and on the day Gordon died, mobile units like his were quickly fitted with the life saving technology four hours after Gordon drew his last breath. It seems paper work got lost and that’s why his mobile unit went out into the firing line without proper armour and equipment, yet they are still trying to figure out who never sent a letter to inform the crew to collect the vital supplies in mine sweeping. “Rose, but don’t you think people would say that your son became a soldier and maybe you can’t complain if he died in action, isn’t that what he signed up for?” I asked her. “Janey if your daughter was a window cleaner and they gave her a broken ladder to stand on and she fell a great height you would demand safer equipment for her wouldn’t you?” she answered “I loved my son being a soldier and was eternally proud of him, but even soldiers need safety equipment to do the job that is asked of them” she added. She is right of course. Meanwhile back in Glasgow my daughter is having a big fight at her University. It seems the lecturer that is supposed to be teaching her screenplay writing and film making is hardly ever at class and Ashley as student rep has had to stand up for everyone. She is currently in battles with the University and is appalled at the standards of education that are directed at her class, she pointed out that even though she is a third year student she still hasn’t been shown how to work a camera and hates the thought that she will be leave Uni with a degree but will have no real experience. The upshot is she has been teaching herself camera work and passing the notes onto her the second year students, my best mate John Fleming kindly gave Ashley a great bag of books on film making and at the last meeting with the dean of the Uni she pointed out that the books she was given have actually been more informative than the lectures from the absent tutor. I am glad she can fight for her rights, too many people get scared and step back from confrontation…not my child though and I am proud of her. It seems our children have to fight for their rights, some depend on authority to provide and when they are let down, it can be devastating, at least my wee girl is alive to tell the tale of her disappointment in the government, Gordon Gentle will have to depend on the strength of his feisty mum to make his point as he died protecting the rights of others. |
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My daughter has finally found a guy she fancies, but she is tortured. Every time he joins her conversation she inadvertently says things like ‘Bum rape’ ‘Castration’ and ‘tampons’ even if these subjects are not even relevant to the chat she will manage to say them out loud when ever he is near. It is some kind of Emotional Tourette’s Syndrome and she hates her life. “Mum he came over to us in the bar last week and sat down, we were all talking about cowboy films and he was eagerly talking about his favourite movie, we made eye contact and for some reason I blurted out something about the homo erotic messages in western movies and he got up and walked away, what is wrong with me?” she pleaded. She is like me; I suffer from inappropriate chit chat when stressed. I am the woman who blurted out at a funeral of a dear old friend “That’s a shame she died just when she paid for new false teeth” The assembled mourners stared at me in disgust. My poor child will have to get to grips with talking about stuff that she may not like to attract a man that she is fond of and learn to shut up about subject matter that can shock guys. Or she can try to find a man that loves her whacky off beat sense of humour and enjoys her crazy whimsical trips of the imagination. Meanwhile I am in Bristol doing stand up at Jongleurs. The city is awesome and I do love a wee city with a river running through it…the funny news is. At the comedy club I was standing at the door chatting to the staff, when a blonde woman came up and said “Can I bring my mate in for free, I am the MC for tonight, I am Janey Godley” The manager looked at me and I looked at my fake person and I asked her “Really? You are Janey Godley, wow; we have been waiting on her all night” The ‘Tall Me’ stood there brazen faced and said “Actually can we just cut the crap, is this how you treat a female comedienne?” I laughed and finally said “Ok cut the shit, I would never say that” She stared at me and still tried to push past the door man. “I am Janey Godley” I declared and laughed when her face fell. She carried on with her story and shouted “I am Janey Godley” I then stood tall and shouted “I am Spartacus” She then ran off down the street dragging her drunken man pal with her. I wish she had stayed; I would have put her on stage and introduced her as Janey Godley. Its cool being tall and blonde but its something else being funny! |
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On Sunday the 11th November I am off to do comedy at the Toronto Comedy festival. I fly into Glasgow on Sunday morning from Bristol and then go home for an hour to swap cases and then head out to Toronto at 3pm that day! So I am quite excited and can’t wait to get there and do the shows. Do come along to the gigs that will be listed on my website on the gigs page. Toronto is an exciting city and I can’t wait to see the place, am hoping those lovely Canadian people enjoy my comedy. Ashley gets to enjoy the house all to her self and I am sure she has a few parties planned. She had been sick for the past few months and the doc thought it may have been glandular fever, but luckily it turned out to be just a virus. My poor wee baby has been ill…I will miss her. We will see….speak soon. |
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Well we flew to Toronto, Zoom airlines are really cool, nothing special but you really do get nice service. I managed to get three seats to myself and slept a bit on route. Husband and I landed in Toronto and by some shitty luck, the comedy promoter managed to misjudge our arrival time and we sat in Toronto airport for nearly two hours. You see we didn’t actually know what hotel we had been booked into and the lack of information was making me mental. I had deliberately left my mobile back in the UK as it causes issues and too much cash trying to use it abroad. Anyway the comedy promoter would not answer his mobile despite me calling 8 times…to cut a long story short we got a cab into downtown Toronto and checked into a hotel. The hotel didn’t look good, but we were tired and frazzled and plotting ways to kill the bloke who didn’t manage to pick us up at the airport and sometimes when you spend ages thinking of ways to kill people it can tire you out. I opted for hanging him naked near wolverines and husband went for stabbing major organs with a blunt stick…but the slow method…as opposed to the quick stabby death. Anyway the hotel bedroom smelled like the place truckers kill hookers on a regular basis. I was so tired I no longer cared if there was a dead woman in the bath…I needed to sleep. Meanwhile, still no news from the man who was supposed to organise our hotel and trip! Husband and I finally slept and got up the next day. We were sticky, confused and angry and to make matters worse I woke up with swollen glands. I didn’t know the day was about to get worse. We finally made contact with the mysterious man who was organising our accommodation and we arranged to meet. My throat felt like dogs bollocks had been stuffed down there and husband was so stressed that one of his eyes went numb. We noticed that there were serviced apartments in downtown Toronto and I called the company. They arranged for me to go to check out the flat, so we ran through the rain and met with the concierge. The apartment was really lovely and we were very pleased. I called the lady and she told me that I had to get in a cab and go 15 miles up the road to her office to pay for the flat as it was so last minute. Husband went back to hotel to get luggage and wait for me, I jumped into a cab and headed to the company that owned the flat. So far so good. The lady behind the counter explained that my American Express card had refused to work. I sighed…exhausted and about to cry. I called Amex back in the UK and after clearing all the security issues the man asked why I was calling. Me-“well my card is being refused” Him- “Well that’s because you are in Toronto, did you tell Amex you would be going to Canada?” Me- “No I didn’t bother phoning my credit card company and explaining my diary to them because they are not my parents and I never knew I had to inform them of my movements” Him- “well, now we know you are there, we will allow the card to work” Me-“Thanks for that you utter cunt” Him- “Sorry I thought you called me a bad word there Miss Godley” Me…I hung up, I was too tired to fight. My throat hurt and I managed to get everything organised and headed out to catch a cab and head back to the apartment where husband would be waiting. The cab outside was parked and the driver was standing outside the car and looking at his watch. “Is that the cab for Godley?” I asked him. “Yes, but my cab is broke and it takes three more minutes for the electrics to work, I promise, then you can get in and we can head off” he simply said. So there I was, stressed and pressed for time yet staring at a cab with a small Asian man at my side. Finally he ‘felt’ the cab would work and we both got into it; he reversed out of the car park and crashed into a bollard. Metal crushed and wheels screeched. My neck jerked and I just silently giggled. I sat there and stared at the ceiling of the car and secretly wondered if I had killed a gypsy in my past that had lead to all this bad luck. “I am sorry, now we go” he shouted and sped off towards the apartment. The car was making strange grinding noises and I fully expected it to collapse in a heap and dump me on a busy freeway in Toronto. But it didn’t and I managed to get back to a frantic husband who was worried sick about how long I had been gone. We did finally get into the flat and it is wonderful and clean, we finally did meet the comedy promoter who had an explanation for his absence. All is good. My throat hurts but all is well. I am performing in Toronto this week, go check the website. |