Oct 31, 2005 at 22:07 o\clock
Oct 31, 2005 at 13:55 o\clock
Oct 30, 2005 at 02:05 o\clock
Oct 29, 2005 at 01:17 o\clock
Oct 28, 2005 at 12:56 o\clock
I had a ball last performing the play Smack- the Point of Yes at Yoker last night. It sold out and the people were awesome, there were loads of teenagers, and that’s really the first time loads of young people had come to see it. They laughed at the most inappropriate moments, and that’s why I loved them being there!
I was so worried I would forget my lines, but as always the whole thing came flooding back to me the minute I stepped on stage.
So here I am up early and ready to fly to London, except a few minutes ago, as I sat at the PC, I felt really nauseous and vomited into the toilet bowl, this really took me by surprise and now I feel really sick and have to get on a fucking plane!
Why am I sick? I don’t know…please GOD not morning sickness? Oh Holy Shit…I cannot be pregnant…I vomited for 9 months with my daughter when I was carrying her…I am off to prepare to throw myself out of the fucking aircraft!
I will talk to you when I land in London and get a connection….
Am off to puke.
Oct 26, 2005 at 18:30 o\clock
There was a great programme on BBC 4 last night about the history of Soho in London. The show took us to all the old haunts and bars where the ‘Bohemians’ hung out. It was really awesome to watch some of the old famous artists/writers on old black and white movie reels. Francis bacon, Jeffrey Barnard, Dylan Thomas, Lucien Freud to name but a few, were all up there drinking, fucking, painting, writing poetry and being anything that made them the misfits of society!.
I love Soho, when I first went to London in 1994 it was the first place I stayed. I booked into the Regents Palace Hotel just off Piccadilly. The hotel is Victorian, and some of the rooms have no toilets or bathroom facilities and so you pressed a bell on the wall and a wee gnarled man in a white jacket carrying two thick white towels came and escorted you to a huge white tiled ancient bathroom that housed an enormous claw footed bathtub! It was so odd!
I loved Soho at night; if you stood still long enough you could see the creepy, drug fucked, pimps, hookers and various members of the London underbelly shape shift around the dark alleyways and dimly lit cobbled stoned streets that lined the back lanes of the Famous Theatres on Shaftsbury Avenue.
The front of the buildings are brightly lit and very photogenic, but just step around the back and watch whole different version of a ‘West End Show’ take place.
My favourite hang out was the Atlantic Bar on Glasshouse St, it was the ‘Place to be seen’ in the mid 90’s and I ended up running a comedy club there! The interior had original Art Deco surrounds and became the most used setting for music videos in that period. Madonna shot her video right in the same room where I stood telling jokes! Robbie Williams, Oasis and many more big stars spent late nights in the Atlantic. No comparison to Dylan Thomas and his Boho mates, but it was fun!
Late into the night, we would all go to Bar Italia on Frith Street for coffee. The outside tables would be crammed with people even at 3am! Bar Italia has been serving coffee’s since 1932 and the décor has hardly changed since. They used to have a wee strange hairdresser’s shop next door that had one stool, one sink and a real dead stuffed cat on a glittery chair!
The house above Bar Italia is where John Logie Baird first displayed his ‘Television’ to the world!
I never knew that fact until last year when I brought my daughter to a late night coffee session at Bar Italia, she leaned back and read the Blue Heritage Plate that told of Logie Baird’s existence in Soho.
All those years I had sat there and never thought to look up!
Ashley loves Bar Italia also, she went last year on her own, whilst I was performing at Soho Theatre, she met a bunch of middle aged bikers carrying two angry poodles and a transsexual magician, who had a fight with a street beggar and decked him…then invited Ashley to a ‘biker party’ as long as she brought her own crystal Meth.
Now that’s the Soho that would make the old bohemians smile!
Oct 25, 2005 at 14:03 o\clock
Well this week I perform my play Smack-The Point of Yes in Glasgow at Peterson Parkhall. I am currently rehearsing the whole thing again. It is about a woman who stays in a difficult marriage and never takes drugs and how her alter-self does take drugs and how both their lives pan out, I play the two characters. Am bricking it in case I forget the words and the play has currently sold 100 tickets…
Meanwhile I get my first go at being an interviewer this weekend on Radio 4 show Loose Ends. I get to interview Mat Fraser who has recently penned and stars in a new show called Thalidomide-a Musical!
I am hoping I keep within the timeframe and don’t fuck up!
So I will be in London this weekend, I am staying in a fab apartment. I was down a few weeks ago staying in friends Lori’s flat in Piccadilly, her place was awesome, all wooden floors and Jacuzzi baths in each bathroom! The downside was in the main living room Lori had a huge white carpet. I mean A HUGE BRILLIANT WHITE carpet.
Well Monica and I decided to have dinner in the flat; I bought seafood and a big bottle of red wine. I don’t even drink most of the year, but I thought we should celebrate her new contract.
Whilst Monica was in the kitchen, I was in the living room playing music on my iPod; I leaned over to get the volume button and knocked a FULL glass of red wine all over the floor.
It splashed across the expanse of the white fluffy wool, splattered up the legs of the antique wooden chair; spread all over the yellow stripped fabric on said antique chair and managed to dot itself all over the pale cream wall.
I stood there horrified, I was frozen in the moment, and it looked like I had just stabbed someone. Monica came in with two big plates of food and screamed in horror “Janey, for fucksake, what happened did you slash your wrists? Do you have some shaky hand disease? How did you manage to fucking do that giant stain?”
If I had thrown the glass in an Olympic Wine Throwing Competition, I would have scored gold. We put our food aside, dropped to our knees and started scrubbing, dabbing, cleaning, soaking and sobbing as we tried to lift the dark burgundy blot that was now settling into the whitest carpet in London.
It was now midnight and I ran out, grabbed a cab and got him to run around London to find any late night supermarket that would sell ‘Vanish’ and all those other ‘Miracle Stain Remover’ stuff we see on TV.
Other comics were running round London looking for drugs, I was looking for carpet chemicals!
By 4am we had finished the clean up and the stain looked pale and blotty as opposed to dark and red.
By the end of my trip there, I had cleaned the carpet four times.
I decided that if the stain was still dark by the time I left, I would pay full price to get the whole thing professionally cleaned, as it turned out, by the Monday the carpet was fine and Lori came by to pick up the keys.
I explained the situation to her; she threw her hands up to her face, dropped her expensive handbag and bolted into the living room.
She ran to a stain under the side window, fell to her knees and shouted “Janey, it is still a bit visible here, for God’s sake, how will I get it out!”
“Lori, that is not my stain, mine is over here at the door” I pointed to the far end of the room at the door entry where I had accomplished my wine throwing talents.
“Oh yes, that’s right, that stain is where a flower vase fell last year, Janey, (she pointed to where the wine stain was) I cant see any stain over there, in fact the carpet looks very clean, can you do me a favour and get that flower stain out for me?”
So there we have it, I have become the oracle on fabric cleaning!
Oct 23, 2005 at 20:59 o\clock
Oct 22, 2005 at 00:58 o\clock
Well I sat and watched it just then on the BBC Scotland and I was very pleased with it, I do have the fattest chin in the country…but the make up was not too visible and that’s what I was really worried about.
I am not joking, it was filmed last night and especially for my big TV performance, my skin broke out in nasty spots, and the lovely make up lady literally painted brown stuff on my face with a wallpaper pasting brush!
I was really shocked when I saw my face in the mirror, because under the strip lights in the make up room, I looked like a fucking transvestite air hostess who had let a small, angry, slightly sleepy nocturnal ferret apply make up that was normally used for ‘burns’ victims to disguise direct facial gunshot wounds!
Ashley smiled at me and reassured me that under the studio lights, I would look fine and on camera it settles and doesn’t make me look like one of those women in ‘Dangerous Liaisons’ that she thinks I look like, all powdery faced and small bright puckered red lips!
I must say I do hate watching myself as I look so fat, but the good news is I am on a diet so, I didn’t feel so low as I am actually doing something about it as we speak!
Also I was chuffed and very proud of the BBC, for they kept in the part of the interview when I spoke about how my paedophile uncle would ‘never be able to hold up his head at the Orange Walk again!’
The good news is, I found my favourite black skirt and Ashley had NOT in fact lost it, it was in the back of my wardrobe all the time!
EL Presidente were the music guest on the show, well those who know me will know that the guys from the band are good friends of mine and Dante, the lead singer wrote the title song of my play Smack-The Point of Yes’ which I am performing next week.
The guys were very good, so fucking rock and roll!
Well I am off to buy a sand blaster to remove the last traces of ‘Ivory Coast’ sheer make up that is still sticking to my fat chin!
Oct 20, 2005 at 03:57 o\clock
Oct 18, 2005 at 23:37 o\clock
Oct 17, 2005 at 22:07 o\clock
Oct 16, 2005 at 01:18 o\clock
Oct 13, 2005 at 17:46 o\clock
I got two emails today from my blogger pals asking me ‘How fat are you?’ Cheeky bastards! Fat enough to tell everyone I know I am on a diet- is how fucking fat I am!
I know it is crunch time as all that fits me round the fat ass is the old purpley linen cropped trousers I bought last year and to be honest its not really cropped linen trouser time…the fucking rain tells me that.
Guess what? It’s stopped raining and the sun is here…hurrah just in time for me to wear my cropped purpley things for the last time this year! I know I am extra fat as none of the bra’s I bought will encompass my overflowing fat boobies…not a good look.
So here I am eating stuff like buck wheat, lentils, millet and hemp…I know! - How much does that sound like the stuff you feed a fucking scary owl?
I have an owl’s diet…no doubt I will get ‘bird flu’.
I read in the papers today that we have to watch out for dead birds…when I was in Edinburgh at the Fringe; there were dead pigeons out on that back court daily, it was either bird flu or angry killer rats that ran a protection racket which saw the ill-fated pigeons fail on a payment and end up on the pavement. Hey I know rat lingo…!
So having eaten food that sounds like Japanese torture techniques, I must have lost some weight this week eh? Failing that I will turn into one of those middle class hippy type people who un-wrap an organic cucumber on the tube and nibble it between stops as I tuck my organic hemp, hand dyed skirt under my hairy thighs and wrap up my unruly grey hair (dyeing it is unhealthy) and go off down the platform looking for sick birds to rescue and tuck into a shoe box that used to contain non leather organic tofu sandals! That will be me.
I will go on weekend retreats that involve bead making and mung bean burgers stalls and teach myself re-birthing and pull a mini fat Janey made entirely from reclaimed cat fur from my vagina as ex-beaten housewives bang drums and chant tunes from dolphin dreams. After that we can all sit down to a big treat of lemon and dog eye herbal tea and talk about the wonders of the birth canal.
Ok that is never going to happen, but the strange thing is…I know that shit goes on somewhere and I am missing out on the fun of it all…
Oct 13, 2005 at 01:33 o\clock
Am still on my diet, which means NO sweets or choccies whatsoever and it is killing me, don’t forget I stopped smoking again two days ago…I know-my life is fucking evil hell. I am not on any substitute nicotine or anything, I am simply gnawing the legs off my table and thinking of the various ways to slowly kill husband as he sits there eating crunchy chocolate biscuits. I have had chick pea and rice with roasted salmon for lunch and went out with my old pal Janette for dinner. We ordered haggis, neeps and tatties…my dish was burnt and the haggis was all crunchy and decimated. Who the hell can burn our National dish? How hard is it to heat up haggis? I could not even eat it and then I refused dessert.
Yet husband eats crunchy biscuits….covered in chocolate…AAARRGGHHH!
I am making ‘high energy smoothies’, ginger, pears, natural yogurt and nutmeg….MMmmmm yummy!! All we need is some crack in there to give it a lift!
I want real food, chocolate and 40 fags a day…but then again I hate the fact my knees hurt, I cant breathe and there is layers of flab that sit on my back with no real anatomical reason for being there, except of course to make me look even more like an Oompa Loompa in a small tight dress.
So now I am detoxing and will be slim and sexy, I want you all to wait patiently for the alluring enticing pictures of me…fuck! Kate Moss has been sacked maybe I can be next ‘face’ for Chanel? Yes…can you see me in a tight black sexy dress, lounging on a chaise long, whilst I wrap my taut thighs about the fit back of some young boy with blond floppy hair, dirty mouth and the type of guy who’s skins still fits him…Grrrrrr? Rock On.
After the copious amounts of ginger/chick peas/ whole rice/ lentils that have been stuffed down my throat, I am scared to go to the toilet…I mean all that whole food with husks…Its not going to be pretty, what is going to come out of there?
Let’s not dwell on that. Talk soon, I am off to dream of chocolate covered fags.
Oct 12, 2005 at 01:04 o\clock
Oct 11, 2005 at 00:38 o\clock
Oct 9, 2005 at 22:02 o\clock
Oct 8, 2005 at 15:01 o\clock
Manchester is heaving, the whole city is gearing up for the big England versus Austria football match tonight, and the city is being hammered by relentless rain. I am here to emcee Jongleurs and last night went as good as. I love the Manchester club, there is something about it that gives it that 'bear pit' feeling, which can be scary but is more often just fun.
So here I am sitting waiting in an internet shop, wondering how the night will fare, if England get beaten, do they happy people turn up sad? Probably.
Wish I had more interesting stuff to say, but to be honest I am wet, cold and in Manchester....maybe tomorrow I will have loads to say, maybe by then God will have stopped talking to George Bush and turned his attention to me. I cannot take on board that God had a chit chat with that wanker...I have to say when Bush hammers on about the danger of extreme religious fundamentalists…I find that very ironic, as you don’t get anymore extreme that saying GOD told you bomb innocent people.
Why doesn’t God talk to people and tell them to take up knitting for the poor, or talk to chav's and tell them to clean up graffiti?
Who knows...talk tomorrow?