fat lad smoking marlboro

it's getting a bit nippy. So I've got the office door closed, which means poor Ruby is smudging the glass with her wet nose trying to get out at the squirrels.



I finally finished the monologue I've been writing. It's called Four More Days, and it's part of a series I want to pitch to Radio 4. Got to say I'm really happy with it. Happier than I've ever been with any piece of writing I've ever done. I'm actually a little bit proud of it. Which can mean only one thing - it's going to get ripped to shreds and no-one is going to like it. That seems to be the way of things. It's currently with Micheal Jacob. We shall see.

I met the Mighty Boosh at the weekend, they were doing a show at Sheffield Memorial Hall as was I. Albeit mine was in a much smaller room, with much less make-up. Well I say met. I nodded at them as I went outside for a fag.

Hundreds of girls with painted-green faces were all gathered by the stage door, presumably hoping for a glimpse of Julian and Noel.

Poor things, all they actually got was a glimpse of a fat lad smoking Marlboro.

I've been making some contacts in the copywriting world, because as it stands I have a baby to feed and relying on stand-up to make all the money I need is proving a bit stressful. So I'm going to make a foray into the world of writing news and features and press releases and ... stuff.

I've got a meeting with a lady tomorrow and with a PR/marketing company next week. So fingers crossed little Maggie might soon be able to eat. here she is by the way:


Yeah, look at her, she's starving.