My comedy shows (please don’t steal)

There have been vague discussions* today with my best friend** about writing a comedy show of some sort – perhaps a sitcom, maybe just a direct rip-off of Jake and Amir, but something that would be so hilarious your brain would just up and leave.

Sort of like how Homer’s does on the Simpsons. I might write that joke in and claim it as my own. Nobody watches the Simpsons, right?

Anyway, as a creative exercise – as well as a power play that shows you all who is King Of Laughing Making (it’s not a good title, I admit) – I’m going to provide you with a handful of ideas for sitcoms or other such comedy shows that you might well see myself and my bessie bud making in the next week or so.

Maybe two weeks, if it’s a long-term thing.

Glazed Ham
One of the Man Utd-owning Glazer family (undecided as to which), through unfortunate personal circumstances, has to move in with a struggling actor in a flat above a butcher’s shop. The flatmate’s acting is hammy. At some point, a meal of gammon is consumed, with one character remarking “my word, this is salty!” (possible catchphrase).

Thinking in the Friends mould, this would be a British version – a good British version, of course. It would reflect actual friendships in real life in that nobody actually likes each other and flatmates bitch at one another because of a fork left out next to the sink and a missing potato waffle. The first series will end with a horrific car accident in which one of the main characters is left a vegetable, and the remaining, cogent Mates have to make the decision as to whether it is right to keep the fallen Mate alive – is it really living, like this? Or is it the more merciful act to just pull the plug and walk away, safe in the knowledge your memory of the friend will be happy and free of suffering? And then, like, one of them will fart or something. I don’t know.

Hilarity, Inc.
An ensemble piece, possible vehicle for Russ Abbot, Hale (NOT Pace) and one of those famous fat blokes – I forget which. It would follow the exploits of the lead characters as they try to battle through reams and reams of bureaucratic red tape while trying to set up their own business. Said business will deal in selling factory reject power tools. Business will be run honestly and fairly, should it ever get set up – I see a lot of traction in red tape-based comedy, after all!

Donkey Racers
Self-explanatory. Donkeys race, people bet large sums on it, losers get the biggest laughs. If I have to say anymore I’d just be insulting your intelligence.

Don’t-Look-a, Feel-appy
Based around Gianluca Vialli (it’s a hilarious play on his name, the title), this would be a Candid Camera-style show where members of the public try to avoid the gaze of the Italian footballing legend. Should they manage to do so, only half of the game is complete – they then have to remain genuinely happy while knowing full well Gianluca Vialli is staring at them. I predict 0 winners for at least 12 series of it.

Deaf Leopard
A one-armed drummer (victim of a big cat attack) strikes up an unlikely friendship with a sentient, though hearing-impaired, Macintosh operating system. They go on adventures; mirth follows.

After he is twatted around his twatty head for being a twat, the twat who does whatever he apparently does for that pop group suffers amnesia. The show follows his hilarious encounters with people he’s forgotten from his old life, and his ongoing, burgeoning relationship with a scallop-seller from the Denford Ash area.

*It was mentioned, once, and immediately forgotten about.

**In the whole world.

*** In the wholest entirest world.

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Weird should not be a synonym for “not as bland as I am”

There are a few things in the world that rub me up the wrong way, and I’m all too happy to pull people up on them or simply rant about them for whole minutes on end. But there are other things that annoy me in a different way; a way that just leaves me feeling a bit disappointed, annoyed or even saddened – rather than the usual ‘bleeding-from-the-eyes fury’. Flicking through The Greatest Newspaper In The World*, The Metro, I glanced at a story that referred to someone as “weird”. That’s it. That’s what annoyed me. That’s what disappoints me with the world today. That’s what gets me mad enough to point it out but not full of enough furious bile to actually get red-faced with rage about it.

(As an aside, the bloke who has just got off the train stank of horrible, stale sweat. I often wonder if I smell like that and don’t realise.)

I have been called ‘weird’, ‘odd’ or ‘off-the-wall’** a fair few times through my life and every time it’s irked me in a strange way. I think it’s a mixture, first of annoyance that someone feels the need to point out they don’t think I conform to the behavioural criteria that they have set up for everyone else in the world***. And second, it’s actually pride that I have made such a mark on someone that they don’t just think I’m exactly the same as everyone else. Though the second feeling tends to erode as I realise they mean it in a distinctly negative, bemused fashion. Sigh.****

What does it even mean? It’s fleeting bullshit judgement based on what societal norms dictate are acceptable and ‘normal’ for the day in question. If all of a sudden it’s considered cool to make multiple goose-based comments throughout the day then I’ll suddenly be the raddest dude this side of the California Games skater. If next week The Queen states that for all people to be considered ‘normal’ they must take a massive interest in the inner workings of a Japanese software development company, I will be Captain Normal. If the month after our Lord And Saviour David Cameron says people who keep giving personality traits military ranks are to be considered the Best People Alive, I… well, I won’t listen. As he’s a prick.

For now, though, I remain the person a lot of people will react to with confusion, curtness and even – sometimes – anger. Though I’m nowhere near as weird as my mate Mike. He’s well weird. Weirdo.

*Massive, massive lie. It is a shitrag that relies on Twitter and Facebook for ‘news’ more than even The Grauniad does. And that’s saying something.

** Genuinely, I have. Someone in real life actually referred to me as ‘off-the-wall’. I responded “what, like a shit Spider-Man?” It remains one of my finest responses.

*** Informed, of course, by everyday society.

**** I should point out that I’m not actually weird in any particularly eccentric way. I’m rather boring, actually. I just say things sometimes***** that people deign abnormal.

***** Oftentimes.

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Winter’s to-do list.

I’ve got some stuff to sort out before I bugger off for the winter break. As I tend to lose or otherwise deface the hand-written lists I make, I’m going to put one on here for all to see. That was it’s going to be un-cock-draw-on-able as well as something that pressure me into actually sorting these things – after all, if I know I’m being judged I’m more likely to actually do this shit. LIST TIME:

  • Do washing up. It’s been sat there in a state of half-washed, half-not washed for quite a while now and needs sorting.
  • Vacuum floor. See above.
  • Vacuum excess sugar you couldn’t reach that you dropped this morning. Don’t want to encourage those ants to come back*. (*hilariously, they’re never coming back because they’re all dead)
  • Take Tron Evolution out of 360, nail to Frisbee, fling over rainbow.
  • Ponder awhile as to why my PS2 is out and set up, when I never use it.
  • Ponder why I still have this steering wheel I nabbed from work, seeing as it’s shit.
  • Ponder the above two matters again, only this time do it out loud or in blog form.
  • Realise the above point has already been completed and put a big tick next to it.
  • Try and figure out how to do a big tick in Word.
  • Fail.
  • Socks.
  • Attempt to purchase a belt that says it’s your size and actually is your size.
  • Realise you don’t care that much about a new belt, as the old one is absolutely fine.
  • Tell the world this isn’t a subtle present request, as a belt is a really boring present.
  • Wonder if this train of thought thing is anywhere near as funny as I hoped it would me.
  • Realise it isn’t.
  • Wonder aloud (though still quietly) how this loud twat you live with has been able to get through life without being stabbed.
  • Plot stabbing.
  • Get arrested for making humorous comment about stabbing.
  • Think up more witty satire about the police force and why they’re such bastards.
  • Cry self to sleep.
  • Scratch that last one.

I think that’s it. Hopefully I can get them all done before I sod off to Swiss-er-land on the 23rd. Wish me luck!


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