Something for the Weekend

Happy Saturday!

Happurday!

Here is an overdue compendium of my latest tweets. Some will make you laugh, some will make you think, some will make you cry, some will make you stink.

Usually, I try to write something interesting at the top here to provide added value.

But this time...

I seem to be doing the same thing.

Is that what this is? Value?

Here's some value! I read two separate interviews with two separate people that I thought were interesting.

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The first is with comedian and actor Garry "Superfluous R" Shandling in GQ (from August 2010).

We've recently been (re-)watching The Larry Sanders Show on DVD and it is superb (probably cracking my top five TV programmes of all time - even though I've never made that list). Shandling seems like a really interesting guy, and this interview almost makes him out to be a mystical figure. You can read it here.

Interesting extracts:

"The direction I'm going in is eventually you won't know if it's a joke or not," he explains, describing his new act, which he has been quietly testing in clubs where his name never appears on the marquee. "What I want to happen is that I talk for an hour and the audience doesn't realize it is funny until they're driving home."

"A lot of funny people have a way of looking at life and commenting on it," he says. "Now, there's another leap to take, which is: Are those funny people actually integrating their life into their work? I still search for ways to put it. It's living art. I see it as living life as an art. And part of that's the comedy, and part of that's the acting, and part of that's the basketball, and part of that's the boxing."

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The second is with Simpsons writer George Meyer. I've also recently been (re-)watching the Simpsons DVDs with the commentaries. Meyer is sometimes on there, and is always interesting. I also find that loads of my favourite jokes from the show are ascribed to Meyer. He's a really cool guy. You can read that interview in The Believer (which seems like an great magazine). It from all the way back in 2004. The world was a different place then.

Reading things like this makes me want to write real columns and articles. Not that this blog isn't real, of course. But if I put more thought into things, they might be a bit less... ragged.

Do you need an accent on raggéd? Probably not. That would be stupid.

Interesting extracts:

"I felt like snark, or cheap cynicism, was beginning to play out as a comic sensibility. I thought that sincerity and individuality were going to be the next wave of comedy. Obviously, I underestimated cynicism’s appeal."


"Personally, I like to keep an audience guessing. Just before the ’96 election, we did a Halloween special where Bob Dole and Clinton were kidnapped by aliens. We killed off both of the presidential candidates in the middle of that segment. They were asphyxiated and floating in space. At that point, I defy anyone to tell us what our politics were."

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I recommend reading both these interviews. BUT NOT BEFORE...

TwaTweeTwas!

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If you're ever asked to name your favourite adverb beginning with 'w', choose wisely.

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I'm going to watch the French Connection now. Or, as it's known in France, Los French Connection.

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God said to Noah "There's going to be a floody, floody!" And Noah said "Don't you think you should be taking this a bit more seriously?"

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I need to have a shower, but I'm worried I might scrub off THE FUNNY.

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Huh. Just found this powerful, higher-up "shower head" on the bathroom wall. I'd always just been using the taps! WHAT AN IDIOT!

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My friend keeps repeating "A beard of a million bees! A beard of a million bees!" He sounds like a broken record.

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Every time I write '2' instead of either 'two' or (God help me) 'to', I feel like Neville Chamberlain, appeasing the forces of brevity.

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If I had an ice-cream van, the tune it played would be Poison by Alice Cooper. 'Cause I only want to serve kids that are fucking metal.

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Also the ice-cream would be poisoned.

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In the last tweet but one, the word 'fucking' was an intensifying adjective, not a noun. I'm not a pervert. #clarification

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I'm not sure if we're getting the best from our vacuum cleaner. It just sits there, gathering dust...

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Either there's a Dementor in our office, or "that Friday feeling" isn't quite what I'd imagined.

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I'm organising a bake sale to raise money for the purchase of a communal office spittoon. People like cake. But apparently not that much.

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I think if I was accused of murder, I'd use the "Oh come on! We're all just ATOMS!" defence.

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I don't think I will be accused of murder. But it's always good to have contingency plans.


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That isn't to say I won't murder someone. I'm just not intending to be accused.

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When does extreme fatigue become meditation? I'm not feeling very enlightened, but I think I might have annihilated the self.

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A wolf wouldn't fit in a boy's tear ducts. #fablefail

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I like that sports water bottle cap that you pull open. Because I want to look like I'm a) too busy to unscrew anything, and b) a hamster

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I wouldn't say I'm self-indulgent. I'm just really good at making i-contact.

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Me: "Is there anything good I can tweet?" Lucy: "No."

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How are we going to figure out a use for the world's largest hat? I think we need to put our heads together.

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I just drank half a mug of cold coffee to avoid the potential awkwardness of a work kitchen conversation. Form a queue, ladies.

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Gateway drugs are very dangerous. I almost got concussion from snorting a drawbridge.

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Bleary-eyed start to the day. Almost asked a lecturer to contact me if they have any "fuhrer questions". I'm not qualified to answer those.

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It's dark. Darker than it should be. I'm not wearing sunglasses. I'm not a depressive soothsayer. I'm not in a box. Something is awry.

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How many owls do you think there are in the world called Leslie? I reckon no more than two.

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I wonder who got Medusa's snakes after she died... (I believe she had a Gorgon donor card)

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I wish my job had a designated hat. Like a chef or a fireman. On the other hand, having one of those on my head might be too heavy.

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It's hard to believe that I'm the world's angriest woman.

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I feel discombobulated. Or, to give it it's full name, discomrobertulated.

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I'm a blue-collar worker. I don't do any manual work, but I am wearing a Smurfskin shirt.

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Twitter is like a handkerchief, catching all my INSPIRATION-SNEEZES.

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Lighthouses aren't always successful at preventing shipwrecks. But they're better than heavyhouses.

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Most people make conversation. I break conversation.

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I don't like what I've become, but there's no Facebook button to indicate that.

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I'm worried I might be stalking myself.

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If enough cowboys started wearing berets, berets would become known as cowboy hats.

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There's a loud helicopter outside. Well, it may not be particularly loud for a helicopter. But it is much louder than no helicopter.

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I hope I'm not under surveillance. "2AM. The suspect is sitting in underwear, googling the word 'surveillance' to get the correct spelling."

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TOPICAL GRAND NATIONAL JOKE: Q: Why do I measure a horse's height in hands? A: Because I love the smell of neigh palm in the morning.

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Fully writing out the words 'greater than' > the 'greater than' symbol.

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I like the streetlight outside our flat. It looks like it's wearing a hat - a skinny Kung Lao brazier.

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I've just eaten a bowl of Weetos. Ideal for whenever you have a craving for anuses in milk.

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I've been startled, so I'll finishle. #MagnussonSeesAGhost

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Umbilical cord progression.

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The first thing I think of when I hear "word" is "association".

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As of 2011, there remains a scientific consensus that Denver was indeed the Last Dinosaur.

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Simon says: DISOBEY SIMON.

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Don't take shit. Do take risks. Don't take shitrisks. #wisdom

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I like a good Q & Q & Q & Q & Q & Q & Q & Q & Q & eventual, exasperated A.

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I've never ridden a horse. Also, I've never skewered a sleeping tramp with a mahogany-handled umbrella. #directcorollary

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I feel comfortable in my own skin. But only when it has been removed, lined with satin, then sewn back on.

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How am I going to deal with all these problems? The same way an ostrich does: run very fast, then lay an egg.

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You can get to sleep faster by counting shepherds. Cut out the middle man.

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I've been arranging myself in order of importance.

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The more 'o's a person puts in the phrase 'it's soooo good!', the more likely I am to disagree with their conclusion.

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I like to lure white elephant stalls, candy floss and bunting into a public space. I hope that's not tempting fête.

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Multiple choice: a) choicechoicechoicechoicechoicechoicechoice, b) choice³, c) choices d) All of the above.

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To make up for this morning, the salad bar had better be full of money, onyx statues of me, and a wide array of magic hats.

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OK - That's it. This post seems to be doing lots of strange formatting of its own accord. Like if HAL from 2001: A Space Odyssey had very little imagination.

So I'm going to jump ship before things get any worse.

I hope your day is awash with euphoria and medals.