January 21, 2012 by Lindsay Sharman
I’m in a horrible mood today. Not the Black Dog of Depression*, just a Negative Mental Attitude. Very much like the 80s band ‘Niggaz With Attitude’, but less ‘gangster rap’ and more ‘middle-class angsty poetry.’
I’m going to tell you why I’m in a mood. Let’s do it list-style, and then I’ll get round to those mo-effing gig-summary haikus.
- I have a coloscopy in the diary, where there’s a possibility someone will snip off a bit of my cervix for a closer look. HA! Bet you wish you hadn’t been reading this now, don’tcha? Bet you wish I had normal social barriers and didn’t share incredibly personal and graphic information in such casual fashion, ay?? Well, I feel exactly the same! What the hell is my problem??
- Other stuff which isn’t very interesting.
- Errrrm. This isn’t much of a list, is it?
Gig haikus. Let’s get on with it.
On the occasion of Laughing Cows in Birmingham –
Brown-stained working men’s army club,
High proportion of lesbians.
Very factual, that haiku, and also very badly structured. Anyway, it was a good gig, although not much reaction to my new genocide-themed Cambodia joke. There’s something in that joke though, as it went down a treat at the Africa Centre in Covent Garden (yeah yeah), otherwise know as….
The Secret Comedy Club
Rammed to the rafters
Great night, badly-kept secret
What a crap haiku. The gig was a blast though. Well done to Mark Rothman for getting so many people in. Apparently it was Eddie Izzard’s old haunt, and he even came down recently to watch. Sadly the building has been sold and that will be the end of comedy there. Boo.
Let’s end on a positive note. A while ago I did what all women of a certain age and disposition do, and I had a brief look at Buddhism in the search for some inner peace. I quickly realised that inner peace is the death of the stand-up, so I stopped and concentrated on maximising my neuroses instead. However, during my 5 minute Buddhist phase, I drew this wonderful picture…
* I love dogs. If the Black Dog of Depression were following me around, he would be simultaneously cheering me up with his silly lovely facey-wacey. So it’s not an appropriate animal for a metaphor about depression, in my case. Hmmmm, I’m not keen on cats, but they make me uneasy rather than depress me. Plus cats never follow people around, so that’d be The Black Cat of Creepiness and Do I Have Fish in my Pockets or Something?
I suppose pandas are quite depressing, because they’re dying out and they’re so incapable of helping themselves because of their aversion to boning. As a species, they’re clearly committing suicide. So if I were depressed, I’d be followed around by The Black (and white) Panda of Depression. Yes, that works.