In terms of grape I'm a big fan of Gavi di Gavi, or anything from Macon. Beer, if it's fizzy, has to come from a country where the men wear leather shorts and have giant moustaches. If it's ale it has to come from an artisan brewery.
So why... oh why did I find myself at 2am stood at a bar in fallowfield dropping shots of Jagermeister into half a glass of redbull, knocking it back and ordering more as if it was the best new discovery since Christopher Colombus dug up an oddly shaped root and said: "I shall call you 'Potato'."
Jager bombs... that's what they were called. I was at a Tuesday night stag do - I know!!! - and it was also a farewell to a dear friend who's buggering off down to London. Next time I see him he'll probably have a Blackberry, an Ipod and an accent.
I felt justified in having a night out as I delivered the first draft of a script on Monday. Now I wait for the notes. It's an odd feeling, it's kind of like waiting for your homework to be marked. Not that I should know because I don't think I did a single piece of homework during my time at school. Actually I did one I can remember. It was for English, it was a story I wrote about being the last man alive after a nuclear war, locked in a bunker going crazy and ended with me leaving the bunker walking out into the radioactive wasteland in the hope of finding another survivor. It got read out in class and, now I think about it, that was probably when I knew I wanted to be a writer.
The script editor will be in touch soon to tell me exactly how wrong I have got it. Just as long as she hasn't written 'see me' in metaphorical red letters all should be fine.
Gigglebiz
the CBeebies sketch show airs in September. Scallywagga 2 starts shooting in a week or so. So that should be fun.right... better do some work.
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1 comment:
great post
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