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Monday 13 September 2010

Teevee tonight!

Monday 10:30 p.m.
                             I massage the Domestic Bliss's back sometimes. This is because she's the champ and has to get out for round fifteen sometimes. Being too dumb to meditate and being a wummin from the generation who all forgot their gym gear ... well, she's still a champ and has to be attended to sometimes, or she won't be able to get off her stool and the three other folk in here will all starve to death.
                             Whilst doing that, I thoroughly enjoyed this Alan Cumming show about finding out about his grand dad who died while playing Russian Roulette in Mayalsia. Most poignant. It was a really great bit of telly.
                              I only spoke to Alan Cummings once. I hassled him in the toilet of the old Traverse. There was a party in behind the door with the combination lock thing on it. Those who weren't getting in had to go home when the bar shut. I told Alan Cummings that I was a radio playwright and would become rich and famous from writing plays and that I would make sure he wasn't going to be in any of them unless he got me into this fung party. He was extremely nice about this. And got me in.
                              Jenny Killick was running the Traverse in those days and all these folk like her and Peter Arnott had come up from Cambridge and they didn't do a great job, but quite a good one, but what they did really well was have parties. They had great parties. Being a theatre, the Traverse had a good sound system. A stage, a sound system, banked seats. I was speeding out of my face at one of these parties when Tilda Swinton came and lay down beside me.
                              It's great to see folk getting on, so it is!
                              Today, I heard that my secret agent, the one I had before I got the consiglieri, had ripped off the wummin whose book launch I went to a couple of years ago for fourteen grand. How ridiculous our aspirations and hopes are. It's enough to make you a zen buddhist, so it is! If this joe had sold anything by moi over those four years of hoping ... well, he would probably have kept all the money.
                              I contacted Allan Guthrie about this today because it was gossip, but, of course, I'm the last to hear about anything and it turns out that he has the wummin as a client already!
                              Trevor Royle was also in the Alan Cummings show. Alan Cummings  used to do a double act thing with Forbes Masson who was in one of my plays, and was a very good actor. Amazing in rehearsal. Didn't have enough rehearsal for the half production shit I was involved in.
                              I got told today that my jobbie is going sessional. This means that they will take four grand off a full time worker. It's okay for me. When it happens, I'll start writing again since I will have the big holidays. No money of course, but I've never had much. Spoke to a wummin today who was widowed last year and left with a big mortgage. Four grand off her wages and she's funged.
                               I know I am a fortunate creature although I don't have much money, and have to drink wine to get over the nicotine withdrawals, and this kid today, who is not too bright, came into my office whilst I was standing on my head, and asked me how come my neck didn't break when I did that, and I said anybody can do that if they practise, and so they can.
                                I started reading another book by maybe Antoine de Sainte Exupery. He used to fly planes. A poineer. What a fabulous writer he is!! It makes me want to read it in French. The only person who made me feel like that before was Emile Zola.
                                They just take four grand off folks wages these days and no one does anything. Isn't that a wonderment! My auntie Kathy said married women ruin work. Married women will put up with any crap you can throw at them. But maybe not. May you live in interesting times!!
                            

7 comments:

Anonymous said...

I say!

Have you considered selling your book on Amazon for £6million and 1pence? Then you'd get lots of publicity like http://www.guardian.co.uk/artanddesign/2010/sep/09/sothebys-books-sale-lord-hesketh and become famous. Though, because it's unlikely that anyone would buy your book for £6m and 1 pence, you'd be unlikely to become rich. But, you never know.

Wilson thought this was a top idea.

MM III

rob said...

Were they sniffing coke off the toilet seat? It would of necessity be a very exclusive party behind the door unless maybe it was a disabled toilet. Did they have them in your day? With a lock to keep the disabled folk out?

rob said...

Only 3 degrees of separation - I know a guy who once knew Tilda in the biblical sense.

rob said...

Perhaps Forbes was in The Marijuana Kid.

Hotboy said...

Mingin'! I will sell you any of my books (ten at the last count!) for a ten spot, or a night in the lap dancing saloon! My brother Grizzly was correct! You could make more money from selling goat's milk than from writing! That'll be ten percent off the top, please! Hotboy
Albert? Forbes Masson did a great job in trying circumstances in Clocking Out. He had a huge part to learn in about five minutes and I was totally impressed. Exploitation, so it is. But he had something special.
Albert? Most folk have had more than one sexual partner. It's a cheap shot to parade your wanking chummy. I hope the wummin had millions of such idiots because she is not such a doll. In fact, I have had sex with far fewer people than anybody. Remembrance and intensity has to count. Or forgetting and getting stoned instead! Or just settling for being an object of desire. At least, I do not have a sore back! Hurrah! Hope this helps. Hotboy

Hotboy said...

Hello Elvis! Well, it's the Ed Sullivan Show. Love me tender, love me sweet and never let me go! Fabulous! Hotter than Hotboy

rob said...

Hotters, I heard you the first time, and all the others. Honestly! One makes one reference to the bible and the floodgates open. You'd probably have had more partners if you weren't speeding off your face whenever they lay down beside you. Never mind brains shrinking to walnuts. Dearie me.

PS the backhanded defence of Tilly was quite touching.