Backwards In High Heels

Reporting In

Oh what a woeful blogger I am!

But I am back and have some pretty pictures in a bid to make amends.

Last week it was the first recording of the new series of Recorded For Training Purposes and I escaped the country for the big smoke for a night.

It’s been years since I’ve been to London though not much appears to have changed as so many streets of cities merge into one long mirror of brand named coffee shops. The trip was also beautifully timed with a tube strike so any afternoon meetings were put on hold which meant I had time to walk round to gaze at Broadcasting House, where the recording would be, a quick look into All Souls Church and a saunter down to Oxford Street which left me thoroughly underwhelmed not being a shopper and it being full of clothes shops where I can’t fit into the changing rooms let along the frocks.

We did pop into Liberty’s, a beautiful building where we did the proper northern country bumpkin thing of picking things up, reading the price and muttering ‘bloody hell’.

Despite the tube strike some of my London based friends came out to support me – some literally walking miles, I owe them beer for life. It made the evening so much more special and easier for having them there.

The BBC Radio Theatre carries on the wonderful art deco theme which I love so much so I was torn between watching the show and simply gawping at the surroundings.

Seeing the recording was wonderful and very enlightening for me. The 6 actors really brought our sketches to life – I had one performed which was a surreal experience, seeing something I had written performed for the very first time. Thankfully people laughed but maybe they were all light headed from having had to walk….

The next morning before getting the train home (it really was a flying visit) we popped into the British Library which I’d never been to before. Important things first, they do a great breakfast. Well it was far more important that my body was fed before my mind.

The display of their treasures is well worth a visit and on a nice day the outside space is a welcome haven from the bustle with some fascinating art work including this, Paolozzi’s Newton which I like very much.

So it was a quick but enjoyable visit. On the writing front, well it’s a stomach churning roller coaster ride. At one moment I’m feeling full of bounce and confidence, the next I feel as if I’m out of my depth. Isn’t life fun?

Bummer

Mrs B
Came To Tea
We talked like lively chums
Of people we know
And Places we go
And things found up men’s bums.

Seriously when Mrs B came to tea, the conversation did at one point turn to things found up people’s bottoms (and by people we mean men). Now anyone who has friends who have worked in accident and emergency will know this is a classic conversational theme.

Only the other night Hugh Dennis told a story on Mock The Week of how his A&E friends treated a man with a gnome up his bum, followed by another man later the same evening also with a gnome up his bum yet they insisted they didn’t know each other. Just what is the frequency of rectum dwelling gnomes for this coincidence to happen?

Our story from an X-ray department friend was a gentlemen who’d let go of a rather frisky vibrator which zoomed north but couldn’t make the corner. The X-ray just showed the distinctive look of two Duracell batteries. Well I suppose the bunny could have been up there too….what a great advertising campaign that would be.

Anyhow, Mrs B’s story top trumped us all, the removal of a horse’s hoof from a bottom. Now the hoof wasn’t attached to a horse by the way. Though why anyone has just a horse’s hoof is odd enough in itself. Unless it was one of those awful novelty ashtrays. Perhaps he was so embarrassed about it when people came round, he didn’t have time to hide it in a cupboard so up his bum it went. Thank goodness he didn’t have an elephant’s foot umbrella stand.

Whatever the reason he has obviously never seen the t-shirt ‘the anus is an exit not an entry’ or perhaps he needed something more specific like ‘ the anus is an exit not a stable’.

Next chapter of the conversation was naturally things men get there willies stuck in and then turn up at A&E saying ‘I fell onto it’ which brings me nicely to my headline of the week:

British dwarf's penis gets stuck to hoover

Honestly you can't get a man near a hoover and then they stick their todger to it...sublime to the ridicolous.

Man humour

Just a quick observation.

If you too are on facebook have you noticed this - there seems to be a universal man joke on there where men who are friends with each other under 'how you know each other' put they dated for a while and are still dating etc.

But women don't - we just the boring truth like 'we went to school together'

I didn't say it was an interesting observation...

Struggling with writing at the moment, hence the blogging hiatus. Hey ho.