We, as a family, have an abnormally large concentration of birthdays in the summer. I don’t know why but apart from the odd one or two every single family member is in May, June or July. This means that starting in May presents gradually reduce in value until by July they look like a quick grocery shop.
(Come on you love mayonnaise. Oil! Oil is your favourite thing! Happy birthday!)
Lucy and I are pretty good at the whole present giving thing. Our aim when we buy a present is not for the other person to enjoy it but for the other person to break down in floods of emotional tears and thank us repeatedly.
(A signed photo of Bill Cosby AND the last jumper my mother knitted before she died. Oh god)
I personally don’t understand why you wouldn’t get something that says “it’s your birthday and I really thought about this gift”. Vouchers say “I kind of remembered you had a birthday” and money is even worse it says “I got a card on the way over after Dad reminded me, happy birthday Mum”.
A friend buys his presents from a petrol station the day before, both birthday and Christmas, ensuring that his friends and family have an ample supply of pine scented air freshener and charcoal.
(OMG! This week’s issue of Heat AND a can of Red Bull! Well deck the fucking halls! )
Being a father to two is a full time job. You think it’s just going to be a case of not screwing up but really it’s the level of not screwing up that you have to account for. Example: When burning your hand on a toaster you are not allowed to scream “FUCK!” at the top of your voice as this will then be repeated to other adults in every socially unacceptable situation.
(Where the fuck are my fucking werther’s originals Grandma, Fuckety Fucking fuck fuck)
You haven’t experienced embarrassment until your child screams “DOUBLE BOLLOCKS!” at the top of their lungs in a checkout queue at Tesco. The only option you have there is to feign some kind of seizure and hope everyone forgets your spawn’s faux pas while the paramedics lift you out of a pool of your own sick.
Now in that situation you haven’t damaged your child in any way, you haven’t abused or neglected them. You haven’t left them around the medicine cabinet after describing your anti psychotic medication as “Daddy’s special sweeties” what you’ve done is exclaimed loudly after damaging your own body, yet you have created an image in the little angels’ minds that they are now also allowed to say that word.
(Today I learned some new words with Daddy so now I’m off to see my cunting friends and their bastard parents)
You don’t want to set that kind of example for your kids you want them to look up to you like some kind of hero or God. I’ve tried replacing swear words with food items but that led to me shouting out “Goddam fucking biscuits!” outside an Aldi when my car got rear ended.
So now I just try my best not to swear in front of them, it’s a struggle especially when they have some kind of magnet attached to their elbows that forces them into my groin when I’m lying on the sofa.
(Oh blimey! Cor you really got me there! Right in the macaroons! Oh boy does that sting, gosh golly am I going to be aching for a week. Excuse me while I go and throw up)
My youngest has just been given a helmet, knee pads and wrist guards so today I am going shopping for a sports cup.
Yesterday my family had a massive party for Rayne turning 6. There was a giant banner with a dinosaur and her name on it, there was a BBQ and there were loads of presents. Essentially it was every child’s dream come true. Then the bouncy castle arrived and everyone lost their shit.
(I’ve just eaten 4lbs of coloured sugar LETS BOUNCE!)
I totally get the attraction of bouncy castles. They combine two things kids love, bouncing and damaging other children accidentally. They let children burn off all the sugar they’ve consumed during the party and they give an outlet to all the hyperactivity induced from the food colouring that’s currently turning there pee blue.
Woe betide the adult that gets on a bouncy castle.
(I can’t wait to jump on your groin while giggling, welcome to your balls’ worst nightmare)
If you’re an adult getting on a bouncy castle you’re either taking a younger child on there to experience it for the first time, in which case you are now putting that child in the most dangerous situation of it’s fragile life while you try to stay on your feet as other children try to jump on the younger one, or you are getting on there to try and get your own spawn off. In the latter situation good luck.
(you came to the wrong neighbourhood motherfucker)
An adult on a bouncy castle is as welcome as a pubic hair in a wedding cake. I did find out that you can hire bouncy castles for adult parties so that is going to happen. Expect my next birthday to involve bouncy castles, jelly shots and dressing up as Sesame Street characters.
We all had an excellent day, Rayne got all of her family in one place celebrating her birthday for the first time ever and I ate so much coloured icing that later on after a bowel movement I thought the cookie monster was crawling out of the toilet.
On a seperate note the Frog and Bucket sent through my winning vid so if you have a chance head over to YouTube and take a look – Me winning Beat the Frog
As an apology for posting my blog late today here’s a special treat! My newest video!
This is me doing 5 minutes at the Frog and Bucket in Manchester and beating the Frog. I also won the night but you know what no biggy!
When you have to walk through a kebab shop to get to the venue.
Last night I did a gig that looked like this
(Out of this gigantic audience 2 are under the age of 16, 2 are other acts come to see if the gig is any good and 1 isn’t even human)
You have to be professional in this job so I did the normal format of audience banter, some material and then introducing acts. Turned out this wasn’t what the audience wanted. What the audience wanted still remains something of a mystery although it might have something to do with homemade cheese sandwiches and raw onions.
(served in one of the intervals and greeted with the enthusiasm of a child meeting Santa Claus for the first time)
Prior to arriving at this gig several other comics had tried to warn me off it, including the previous promoter, but I was adamant that I’d confirmed it and come on how bad can it be?
If you arrive at a gig and you can tick three of these bullet points you are at a bad gig:
- You have to get into the venue via a kebab shop
- One of the audience members has his shirt off and is already blind drunk
- The Bar manager asks you to talk to the owner as he isn’t sure what’s happening
- Over 30% of the audience are below legal drinking age
- They are advertising the show with a previous month’s poster
- Members of the audience mess around with the sound board during the show
- The bar manager sings to customers while comics are on stage
- A woman with greasy hair is masturbating in the corner
(Awkward performances make me so damn horny)
Well done to all the acts that came and did their full time even though they were largely ignored. Massive well done to Jonathan Elston who not only managed to illicit a reaction but has also lost so much weight I didn’t recognise him.
OK that’s enough of the negative stuff, yesterday was actually pretty amazing.
Having never had my daughter for a birthday of hers it was great to be able to surprise her with an apartment full of balloons, bunting, sparkles and general birthday happiness. As an adult I will never understand how much enjoyment kids get out of balloons and glitter but wow was it amazing to watch.
(We’re pretending that these are your head Daddy!)
It was incredible to see her ripping open her presents and squealing with joy. Non parents won’t get it but it’s one of the best things you get to experience and I’m so happy that finally we can do it as a family.
It makes me happier than this picture.
(the filename for this picture is Jesusaurus, I’ll leave you with that)
Today’s blog is shorter than normal as it’s my youngest daughter’s birthday and we have a lot of cake to eat.
(Because if we spend 4 hours making a cake we’re going to have it for breakfast, lunch and dinner goddamit!)
We’re all pretty excited and as she’s 6 today we’ve made the place colourful and perfect for anyone with a low attention span.
(Multicoloured balloons? Check. Multiple presents? Check. Fairy wings? Sorted. Now lower the pinata shaped like David Cameron and lets enjoy watching the kids beat the sweets out of it)
Last night I did a lovely gig in Moseley called Fat Penguin run by the lovely Jay Handley. Unfortunately due to the party preparations I had to leave right after my opening set but the room was full and the audience were lovely. Some even took pictures of us which is dangerous.
(Masai Graham and Harriet Dyer are about to become exceedingly famous so you can either see them now where you might be able to touch them or wait for the Tour where you’ll have to wait for a bouncer to choose you out of a group of other fans. Photo by Mara Leftlung)
For some reason I always look like I’m planning on eating the other acts.