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'Say Something Nice' - A social experiment

Friday, 20 January 2012 0 comments

January is a depressing month. That's just a hot fact so there's no point denying it. We're all fat and hungover from the festive season, broke and with nothing to look forward to until it's the spring. Then there's blue monday, the SOPA fiasco and Celebrity Big Brother. MAKE IT STOP.

In order to combat the January-until-Spring blues, I have decided to try and uncynically (I know, right?) spread good vibes throughout the land. Everyone loves a compliment. I know this more than most, given that my life is largely spent seeking validation from strangers. So I have decided to start giving some back. Complimenting strangers. Creepy, right? I hope not.

I've made some cute little cards and the plan is to write bespoke Nice Things on them and hand them to strangers - in a cafe or a bar or on the tube or at a Zumba class or pottery workshop or comedy show. Maybe not all of those. I hate comedy shows.

While it would be great to selflessly hand out tiny smiles and move on, it's not much of an experiment without results. So, on the back of these wee cards is my twitter handle. Hopefully that might make me look less mental. And maybe people will look it up. And maybe they will read this. And smile again. I'll try and tweet the compliments after I've given them out. #SaySomethingNice.

I have no idea what might happen, but if it makes someone marginally less glum on a rainy day, that's fun right? I can't believe I typed that either.

And if you're reading this because I gave you a card... well I hope it brightened your day some... let me know!? (if it had Tippex and something offensive written on it then I didn't do that, sorry).



(if you are reading this as my epitaph, the experiment has failed).


Twas The Season

Wednesday, 18 January 2012 0 comments

We did it guys. We made it through the festive season alive. I'm assuming we're all alive, unless they have finally laid that fibre optic cable in hell. I imagine Rupert Murdoch has that on his to-do list either way...

In case you are one of the world's-population-minus-1100 people who have not seen, Life Of Si made you a special Christmas treat. Point your eyes at it:



"That's so great Simon, but I want more AND I WANT IT NOW!" I hear none of you shout. Well, a little while after that video made the internet explode so hard it had to be reset, we released a little treat to celebrate getting a thousand views. It's not a lot, but it's surprisingly hard to achieve if you're not a cat or a baby.

The leftovers. Noone wants them, but it's a shame to throw them away. Bloopers, out-takes & unused shenanigans from the above 'Xmas' clip. MAKE ROOM.

Had a little holiday to Budapest. Now need a holiday.

Friday, 6 January 2012 0 comments

It seems apt that I should follow-up my last post, entitled "Keeping Regular", with a 6 week hiatus. That's everything you need to know about me right there (full CV available on request (allow 28 days for delivery)).

There's a lot to cover in the period twixt then and now but let's start with some highlights of an Exciting MiniBreak Adventure Mission that I went on in December, accompanied by fellow Idiots In Need Of A Holiday, Sy Thomas & Tom Bell, to BUDAPEST.

We put the "icular" in funicular railway
A lot of people would imagine a winter minibreak to encompass heat or a beach or warmth or sun or a temperate climate or the southern hemisphere. Not I. At some point it seemed a great idea to flee grey, frigid rainy London and head to off-white, sub-frigid, similarly damp Hungary. The key is the change of scenery.

And what scenery. Budapest is divided into 2 sections: "Old" Buda and "new" Pest, either side of the river Danube. (I copied that sentence out of the tourist guide). Buda has lots of shiny old shit and awesome buildings and Pest has dingy streets hiding hella-sweet bars & dubstep clubs. (Sentence model's own).

DO YOU SEE? DO YOU? WELL DO YOU?
Since it's not a part of the Euro, Hungary is still relatively cheap and visiting midweek meant a complete lack of Nicknames On The Back Of Shirts And One Man Dressed As A Penguin stag dos. Which is a win. In order to redress the balance we spoke loudly in English, were mostly drunk and killed a horse with a Kalashnikov.

Pest is home to most of the fun stuff, including an array of "Romkocsma" (ruin pubs) which are extraordinary places, mostly hidden behind unassuming doorways and those plastic curtains they have in meat lockers where detectives discover dead bodies in films. Home to cavernous drinkeries bedecked with all manner of art and weirdcrazycool shit, they really have to be seen. I think we went to 4 different places, all totally different but equally huge and awesome. One place had an upside down room WHATTHEEFF right? I know.

I didn't take this. Imagine us there. With Maria Ozawa. 
One of the most picturesque sights on the Pest side of the river is the Széchenyi thermal baths. Ginormous old ornate buildings, craterous outdoor pools oozing steam, hot japanese girls paddling (not sure if they are *always* there). We enjoyed a delightful afternoon here, lazing around in whirlpools, saunas & steam rooms. The guide book said "don't take valuables" so we left the cameras behind and thus have no photos of this amazing experience. It turns out the baths have the most futuristic locker system I've ever seen involving programmable wristbands. Sadly I can't show you a photo of them either.

The road to ruin
"Simon, how have you gotten this far without talking about local alcohol and food you silly prick?" noone is thinking (ok maybe the last part). Get onboard, here we go. The biggest local tipple (or at least the one they squirt down tourists) is called Unicum and tastes pretty much exactly like the happy spray of that cartoon charcter from Dungeons & Dragons. Mixed with burnt toast. It's a horror show what makes Jagermeister taste like winning the lottery. But y'know... when in Rome.

The tarmac on that road
After Croatia's successful Burek discovery, I was bang up for finding a Hungarian gastronomic treat of equally epic proportions. My wish was granted by Lángos but sadly it tasted like sugared shit. It looks like a pizza, but the base if effectively a massive doughnut coated with sour cream, the cheese on top is not melted and I only opted for added frankfurters to distract my palate from sicksploding. Obviously I ate the whole thing as it was late and we were about to enter a dubstep club that we wouldn't leave until 6am. I'm like an Eastern European Bruce Parry.

In spite of the bone-shattering cold (or more exactly my inability to prioritise function over form in clothing) Budapest was an absolute wintery treat. I can think of no better time to visit the baths (do call ahead to find out about the Japanese girls) and there were Christmas markets all over the place serving hot wine and apparently some other things but really just drink all the hot wine.

AND THAT IS WHAT I DID THIS SUMMER WINTER.




Keeping regular.

Wednesday, 23 November 2011 0 comments

Mum, Dad, this is Alexandra.
Well, that post about my Croatia visit didn't turn out too shit, so I thought maybe I'd try and write a little thing every "week" (in some cultures a week lasts 23 days) about my "adventures" (driving on motorways alone). In an ideal world it will be a bit like Alex Sim-Wise's page in Front magazine, but from a bloke's perspective (well, mine at least). And with less pictures of Alex Sim-Wise's tits. (no promises)

Then ideally once Front magazine realise what a motherfuckingcrazyrocknroll lifestyle I lead (driving on motorways alone) they will give me my own page. And it will have pictures of Sim-Wise's tits. This may or may not lead to us dating, it's too early to say. PRETTY FUCKING GREAT NEWS, HUH?

Grown men rigid with excitement.
Most of the last couple of weeks have been spent trying to find time to sit alone in my flat and pretend to be the Indiana Jones For A New Generation, Nathan Drake in the ball-explodingly awesome Uncharted 3: Drake's Deception. I've only had a couple of decent sessions on it so far, but it has not disappointed. The second game pretty much redefined my idea of how good video games could be (read: how superfluous girlfriends are*) and this one looks set to Fosbury that shit without blinking.

Comfort. Unless you're blind.
Gig-wise it's been a fun and busy couple of weeks. Whilst on the road I was lucky enough to visit the World Famous Comfort Cafe (you've obviously heard of it?) whose website claims "Great people like World War II veteran fighter pilot Douglas Bader and Beirut hostage Terry Waite have been known to pop in for a cuppa..." Call me Jimmy LoftyTastes, but I'm not convinced a legless war vet who did time in Colditz and a man who spent years chained to a radiator are the best arbiters of 'comfort'. Suffice it to say, the chairs were wooden and the coffee was fine.

"And this is the spare room..."
I was also in Milton Keynes where the toilets were confusing, a cabaret night in Highgate where the jukebox was amazing and at the delightful Loddon Mill Arts, which is effectively a converted mill connected to someone's house in a small village. To get backstage you walk through their kitchen. I particularly enjoy this "mountain to Mohammed" approach to live entertainment. You often find the funnest venues in the smallest towns because (serious tone of voice) they are run by passionate people whose chief driving force is the arts, not selling drinks. One day I'll turn my flat into a venue for bands to play. Just goes to show that with a bit of imagination there's plenty of ways you can use your apartment as an entertainment complex...

*unless they also play video games. DAMMIT.

Croatia Calling

Thursday, 10 November 2011 0 comments

A couple of weeks ago I got to travel to Croatia for a series of gigs, as part of an event called 'London Calling'. I'd never been there before and my knowledge of history, politics and World Cup football is so poor that I had no idea what to expect. Come with me then, on an epic journey to uncharted (by me) Eastern Europe. With photos. And some jokes. But mostly photos.

Me, Adam, Danny, Elena, Luca
There were 4 of us heading off on this adventure: Adam Crow, Danny Ward, Elena Procopiu and myself. Elena is a bit Romanian so we thought she'd have a head start, which I think is about as ignorant as assuming a Frenchman would have a headstart in Wales. Rugby notwithstanding.

We arrived in Rijeka, at a tiny airport made of old grey weathered concrete where people were drinking beer on a balcony and waving as we arrived. In a good, welcoming way, not a Club 18-30 foam party way. I was excited.

Grown men excited by snow
The coastal part of Croatia where we landed was quite beautiful and the weather was delightfully temperate, so immediately we headed away from that lest our dour Britishness be tarnished. After a series of motorways and tunnels through mountains we arrived in Narnia. There was snow on the ground. I was more excited.

Our Man On The Ground for this part of our trip was Luca. He plays rugby for the national team. We found out. After plying him with drinks. He tried to play it down but my lack of sporting knowledge meant that I assume he is basically the Croatian Beckham. With less hair.

Tasty tasty obesity
As far as food goes, I had no idea what to expect from our host nation. I had suspected potatoes, meat, pastry and cholesterol would play a large part in the national gastronomy and boy was I not disappointed. Before we'd even arrived at our first destination of Zagreb, Luca had taken us to eat 'burek' at "the best place in town". It's kind of a cross between a pasty, a kebab and a heart attack, filled as it is with cheese or 'meat' (we didn't ask). The classic accompaniment is a yoghurt, which seemed weird but somehow worked. When in Rome, right? Suffice it to say the burek was delicious and had late-night drunken indulgence written all over it. (Can you feel the foreshadowing?).

Adam doing the business in Zagreb
Our first show was in Zagreb, capital of Croatia. Sadly we didn't get to see much of the city as no sooner had we arrived at the hotel were we wandering aimlessly around trying to find the venue, a nice little bar whose name now, as then, eludes me... Thankfully the bar was full of eager comedy fans who spoke excellent English and our trepidation was swiftly quelled as the first laughs came... We couldn't have asked for a nicer first show and all of us had a great time.

Sweet nectar

Post-show we were treated to another Croatian delicacy. Can you call alcohol a delicacy? The hard liquor or choice in this part of the world is called 'rakija' and comes in a variety of flavours such as honey and ICantFeelMyFace.

Sweet! Neck tar.
Our hosts were very hospitable in this regard and thus the rest of the night is memorable only via photos. Like a murder commited under hypnosis. Thanks Croatia! We were also surprised to find that smoking indoors is still legal. It was an odd throwback to how comedy clubs must have been 10 years ago in the UK. I don't smoke but the novelty factor alone made it worth a photo. (I don't miss smelling like a bonfire the next day though).

The next day we hit the road for the 4-hour journey to Osijek, in eastern Croatia. Luka handed the reigns to Vaz, who was to be our Guy for the next 3 days. Vaz once won the Croatian version of TV show 'Survivor' which was a fact-nugget to rival Luka's rugby bombshell. The drive from Zagreb to Osijek was basically One Long Road but we passed through a lot of beautiful countryside and looked at old stuff out the window.

A thing of beauty.
One thing that is prevalent in Croatia is coffee. They love coffee. I think I drank somewhere in the region of 427 cups while we were there. And it's not been infiltrated by Starbucks yet (They do have McDonalds though. Sorry) so it's served in regular sized cups rather than vats bigger than the human stomach. Just look at this presentation in a MOTORWAY SERVICES. Buck your ideas up Welcome Break. Some people may have visited a war museum. I took pictures of drinks.

Osijek is the 4th largest city in Croatia and it was here we were to perform the next 2 nights at a lovely 200-seater theatre. Before that though, there was the small matter of food. Yes, we're teetering on the edge of this becoming a food blog, but with scant spare time in a foreign land you have to focus on what you're good at. I've been eating for more years than I've been telling jokes although they both often involve a lot of shit falling out of my mouth.

The meat cellar.
We were taken to a huge wooden door that led down some stairs into a gorgeous basement restaurant, where we were fed an enormous meat feast and I got to overuse the phrase "postprandial nap". There were fears that we could be being fattened up in a sort of human fois gras situation before having our kidneys stolen but these fears were soon put to bed. As were we, in our postprandial naps.

Hello Wembley.
The gigs in Osijek were a delight. 2 sold-out nights at a fantastic theatre where people were excited and enthused to see comedy. It's so nice to perform shows where the audience is on your side before the show even starts. I imagine that must be the joy of big success. Until you're playing Madison Square Garden or Wembley and it's impossible to judge what's funny. Or maybe I just get booked to play the wrong clubs. Either way, everyone did great in Osijek and we were afforded a fantastic reception.

Osijek town square.
During the 2nd day in Osijek we visited the local library where they held a Q & A session for local students about the shows we were doing and comedy in general. It was a fun diversion and let's face it, any excuse to get out of class is a win.

Team Burek
After the show on the 2nd night we did a radio interview with some local university students, who also took us out to show us the highlights of their city, which included an underground jazz bar, rakija, local beers, more rakija, a secret bar opposite a brothel and late-night burek (told you). Everyone was so hospitable it was a bloody treat.

And so the final day arrived. Bleary-eyed but kidneys intact we piled back into the minibus for the 4-hour drive to Zagreb, then another 2 hours to Rijeka for the final show. Elena had to head back to London before this show, so we were joined for the final leg by Croatian native Andrea Andrassy, who was rather impressively doing the gig in English. This was definitely preferable to us doing the gig in Croatian.

Andrea + crazy opulent setting.
Our time in Rijeka was short, but we managed to squeeze in 2 shows in one night at a spectacular venue which was an idyllic setting for this British manchild to utter the phrase "jealous otter fisting" to an innocent foreign audience including a 14-year-old boy. I'm like a missionary.

A brief visit to the event organiser's jazz bar (who doesn't love a jazz bar) rounded off a great evening and a fantastic trip: Awesome shows, lovely people, delicious burek. Thanks for having me Croatia! (When can I come back?)

AND THAT IS WHAT I DID THIS SUMMER AUTUMN x


OK... just one more festival...

Sunday, 25 September 2011 0 comments

With Edinburgh tucked away in the back of the cupboard it's time to sleep and detox. Right? Oooooooor how about spending a few nights in a tent fueled only by cider and bad food? It was just what my broken body needed - a trip to the Isle Of Wight for Bestival.

Thankfully my corporeal welfare was swifty forgotten and the festival fun times continued in a fantastic comedy tent filled with excellent comics (and me).

The weather played ball on day one, then threw a fit for the rest of the time, drenching everything, blowing tents over and making me stroppy like a teenager.

Thankfully I got to see Pendulum, Jungle Brothers, Dr Syntax, Modestep and a whole bunch of other fun stuff like a massive treehouse.

You may notice I have also fallen foul of the Applying Filters To All Amateur Photography To Disguise The Poor Quality Of The Picture game. Yep, it's great fun. I'm using MyTubo for Android. If you've got an account I'm here. Otherwise most of the pics are also on my tumblr.

You blinked. You missed it.

Saturday, 24 September 2011 0 comments


The AAA Team (Pat is disguised as a light) & crew
Holy shit. Edinburgh Fringe happened. It was super fun-awesome-tiring-amazing-hard-elating-exhausting-wet-dry-beautiful-ugly-Scottish.

I hope you came and saw me doing some jokes somewhere. Or maybe just pottering around looking lost. I'd love to say I'm back to normal but I'm pretty sure my body clock has now broken like a spring that has exceeded it's elastic limit (B in GCSE Physics!).

If you'd like to take me somewhere hot on holiday any time between now and Christmas that would be amazing. Answers on a postcard

27 nights, 27 shows, 27 smoothies, 316 cups of coffee. Aaaaaand breathe. Well, breathe briefly then get back to gigging...