Sometimes I wonder why I want to do so many things. It’s a shit for the curriculum vitae, makes me look like I have A.D.D. - especially when I’m applying for a very dry job where they don't quite know how to take “playwright” next to “porn writer” on the old resume. But thankfully I have an answer to why. Received an email from my Mum yesterday and I quote…

“Have you seen American Splendor yet? Interesting film, in format as well as content... The thing is, it prompted me to make a suggestion to you... have you every thought about writing and illustrating a comic??”

The funny thing is that I’ve just discovered comics again. After joining the local Clapham Junction library I self-consciously flicked through the graphic novels section, finally deciding on a Tank Girl omnibus (dear God, did I just say omnibus? All hope for me is lost!) It’s logical really as I feel I’m discovering my inner geek of late. But it wasn’t until I finished the achingly beautiful Ghost World that comics took on a whole new tenor. Now I’m hooked. In the past few days alone I’ve devoured “David Boring” by Daniel Clowes, “Transmetropolitan” and something called “Maus”, a black and white comic about a concentration camp during the WW2 played out by mice instead of men (just this second found out that it won the Pulitzer Prize!)

As predicted I stayed home Friday night, kicked back and watched all manner of light entertainment on the box. When I woke up at the next morning there was a text message from Charlotte and the Scooby’s recounting that they’d all had a great time at the club thankyou very much and would I be interested in in joining them at the chill out at Sam’s. The text message was sent at 5.32am. By the time I called back at 11am they were all either comatose or staring at the ceiling in a vague attempt at sleep. Bless.

After breakfast I quickly changed into my “Promoter Man” tights and cape and flew round the corner to the arts supply shop to buy paint for the Nova t-shirt I wanted to give out flyers in. An art supply shop in the morning makes you feel very wholesome I’ve decided. Next I went to the party shop opposite (some weird ley lines have converged to make Clapham Junction the party capital of Wandsworth) where I become over excited about helium balloons and had the great idea of giving out animal masks at Nova. Because there’s a horse on the flyer, get it? It also gives the night a thematic link (and there was me thinking it was all very random). Let’s just hope now that’s it’s not all a pile of pony. Tee hee.

It was with all the adrenalin gone from the buying and the purchasing that I realised I was getting a sore throat. Damn. Still hurts now but every time I think about it I stick my fingers in my ears and hum loudly.

After making a half decent t-shirt I rushed into town to have a pint with the lovely Tash (50% of my favourite lesbian couple) before hoaring my ass on Soho’s Old Compton Street, armed only with 600 flyers, a sore throat and my boyish charm. Have to say it went pretty well, people chuckled at the My Little Pony and afterwards there were only a few flyers scattered on the pavement. If 3 months in Ibiza promoting clubs taught me anything it was how to successfully hand someone a rectangular piece of glossy card goddammit!

I then hot footed it to the Aquarium for Carwash. I’ve been working there Saturday nights since I came back from Ibiza, getting email addresses, introducing the shows and generally being the Carwash dogsbody with fellow Scooby Jo(seph). Except tonight I was feeling grotty, Joe was at some mad Aunt’s 60th and the Carwash clientele was g.r.i.m. It was a good opportunity to scope out Room 2 though and plan how many helium balloons I’ll need.

One more week. Hooray!

Yeah, yeah, email me

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sites what I write on:

sites what I wrote on:
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sex, lies & videotape
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