Monday, December 19, 2011

Seriously, Where Did the Last Three Months Go?

Well, it hasn't exactly been a dull year. Somewhat predictably, in the having a new baby/moving house/keeping up with the blog stakes something had to give. The good news is that MY LOVELY DAUGHTER is lovelier than ever (as is MY LOVELY SON - must remember to treat them both equally) and we managed to move house without me murdering my freeholder's solicitor. He really is the luckiest man alive. They say that the best revenge is living well, but even Jesus would be thinking about putting dogshit through this guy's letterbox.

So, the second advent calendar will have to wait until next year as it is currently in a box in the garage. (I have a garage!!! It is full of boxes!!! It has a door which goes up and down when you press a button!!! I have pressed this button approximately a million times!!!)

So, I will wish you all a Merry Christmas and leave you with my favourite thing that I wrote this year, which I think will just sit nicely in my readers' Venn diagram intersection of clever satire, 70s references and awful puns:

Just been listening to Lonely This Winterval. It's political correctness gone Mud.

Saturday, September 17, 2011

I AM A FATHER OF TWO!!!!!11!!1!!!!!11!!

I am a father of two!!!! It is a girl!!! She is lovely!!!! All other babies are inferior (apart from the one I had four years ago, who was equally brilliant)!!! Mine are best!!!!! I have a million photos of her asleep!!!! She held my finger!!!!! It was amazing!!!!!

(And as a side note, is there any document less studied than an emergency medical consent form? Not even the terms and conditions of the Adobe Acrobat Updater are read less often. Absolutely nobody is poring over it thinking "Yes, but does it affect my statutory rights?" Thankfully, all is well though.)

Thursday, September 15, 2011

Guess What?

If you guessed that we have had a baby and moved house then you still have three more guesses.

If you guessed that we had not had a baby, but have moved house, then you still have two more guesses.

If you guessed that we have had a baby, but not moved house, then you still have one more guess.

If you guessed that the baby doesn't know the meaning of the word 'deadline' and that I would gladly strangle one particular party in our property chain with my bare hands then you win £5. (Is there anyone in England and Wales who, after buying or selling a house, has said "Yep, that's a great system - I can't think of a single way of improving it"?)

In fact, just go back exactly four years and re-read the archives as it is all exactly the same - we have avoided the September 11th birthday, I have successfully had my pre-baby haircut for the photos, and it looks like our children will be sharing a birthday, which will make things easy to remember.

Tuesday, August 16, 2011

In Other News

1. What has happened to my Sellotape?

It has all slid out evenly to make a section of cone. How has this happened????

2. My Lovely Son will soon have a Lovely Brother or a Lovely Sister. Due date 6th September.

3. After the longest, most tedious and most expensive house-purchasing saga ever (don't bore me with your stories - mine is the best) we might finally be moving. No completion date set yet, though it's looking like being around 6th September.

4. After a quiet period earlier this year, work has suddenly become quite busy, with two of my own ideas being developed at the same time by different companies. Fantastic news. And when would you like those scripts delivered? Oh ...

5. But mainly, what the heck happened to my Sellotape?

Monday, August 15, 2011

In Which I Post the Word ‘Cunt’ Through Winnie-the-Pooh’s Letterbox

We are having a family day out at a country park that contains Hundred Aker Wood, a charming recreation of the world of AA Milne, complete with houses for Winnie-the-Pooh and all his friends for small children to explore. My Lovely Son is optimistically wearing a sunhat under his cagoule and all is well with the world. He has been here before and apparently there is a letterbox at Pooh’s house where you can post a letter, so he has drawn a picture for him.

As usual, My Lovely and Environmentally Aware Son has used the back of a piece of paper from my scrap paper pile to do his drawing. This stack of paper comes from old drafts of scripts I've printed out and no longer need. He's done a lovely drawing of a jar of honey, so we approach the letterbox confidently, knowing that the bear of very little brain is going to love this. The piece of A4 is too big to fit in the letterbox, so we carefully fold it. When I see the other side I see that something has gone a bit wrong in the whole posting a letter to Winnie-the-Pooh scenario. Whilst most of my writing is for children's television, My Lovely Son has done a lot more drawing recently, and to retrieve this piece of paper he has gone quite far down the strata of paper to a short film script I wrote a few years ago, which contains the word 'cunt'. Several times. A piece of paper which we are about to post through the letterbox of one of the world's best loved children's characters. I look at My Lovely Son. He looks back up at me. He loves Winnie-the-Pooh, and is very proud of his drawing. With a bit of help he has even spelled the word ‘hunny’ correctly. There is no way that we cannot post this, so I lift him up and in it goes.

Hopefully Owl, whose spelling goes all to pieces over delicate words like 'measles' and 'buttered toast', will help Pooh to read it and tell him that I wrote a script about King Cnut.

Friday, July 15, 2011

Funny Things That I Have Said That Really Deserved a Wider Audience #5

I am watching ZingZillas with My Lovely Son. It is time to stop watching ZingZillas and go and brush his teeth. He doesn’t want to stop watching ZingZillas and go and brush his teeth. A man comes on ZingZillas and starts playing the saxophone. I say that when the man stops playing the saxophone then it will be time to stop watching ZingZillas and go and brush his teeth. My Lovely Son agrees. (All parents will recognise this kind of negotiation. The whole Arab-Israeli Land for Peace idea that’s been going on since 1967 is basically modelled on trying to get a 3-year-old out of the house.) The man carries on playing the saxophone for quite some time.

MY LOVELY SON: “He’s never going to stop!”

ME: “Yeah, that’s jazz for you.”

Friday, June 10, 2011

Game Show Proposal

It's called Rock or Hard Place. The contestant is put in a situation with a choice of two equally unpleasant possible outcomes and we watch to see which they choose. Like Deal or No Deal the outcome is completely random, and the fun is in watching the contestant squirm as they make up their mind.

As a completely hypothetical example that I have just plucked from absolutely nowhere whatsoever, imagine being in an aeroplane toilet with a 3-year-old who, despite much cajoling, hasn't produced much of anything all day, but has just announced that he really needs to go. Meanwhile, a stewardess is banging on the door telling you that if you don't go back to your seats right now they're going to have to abort the landing.

Rock or Hard Place?

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

Living the Dream

Last night I dreamt that my girlfriend and I were going to do a load of washing and were discussing whether to do a light load or a dark load. This is what my dreams have come to. Literally. My life now revolves almost entirely around work, MY LOVELY SON and other family commitments. But the six or seven hours of sleep I get a night are mine and mine alone. In my unconscious mind I can still go anywhere and do anything, with no responsibilities. I could fly, swim underwater, travel to outer space or make love to supermodels with no feelings of guilt. And what am I doing? Laundry.

Maybe tonight I’ll have another dream. A dream that dark-coloured washing and light-coloured washing can one day go in the same laundry cycle.