Monday, October 17, 2005

Morris Day



Morning.
I’m sick as a bad goat, and there’s something wrong with my faec-hole. It’s got the red, and my mouth smells like an Al-Qaeda..
The ‘phone is terrible at me for a second. Then it stops. It repeats this procedure seven or eight times, whilst I stand quacking like a broken Toby trying to work out which handle is the good one.
When it stops for good, I realise that this is going to be a Morris-day. Morris-days are the worst.
The answering machine is cross with me. “Where the fuck are you?” it says. I tell it I am at home. It doesn’t seem to care or even listen. I take comfort in the fact that, if it came to a fight, I would win.
The answering machine tells me that everyone in the office is waiting for me. I don’t think this can be true. Even if it were, I don’t see how the answering machine would know.
They say that a man’s reach should exceed his grasp. This explains why giraffes are rubbish at everything.
The answering machine is giving me the silent treatment now, and I wonder if I should buy it a present.
Later on, when I am at the place, I become aware of a young woman mouthing gummy platitudes at me, face as big as old plate. I decide to tell her about my answering machine, but she thinks I am funny and continues squirting out her horrid word-wrong.
I hate Morris Days...

Sunday, October 09, 2005

9th October 2005:

With immediate effect, the author of this blog will be known as ChevalburgerTM Nathaniel Tapley. ChevalburgerTM is made from prime cuts of fresh beast, gently killed and moulded into quarter-pound patties. Ideal to eat on the hoof! It may not be the dog's bollocks, but it's certainly something's...

What makes ChevalburgerTM Nathaniel Tapley so funny?

It's the horse of course!

See more at this month's Out of Vaudeville on Sunday, 16th October at The Sound Theatre, Leicester Square...