Running

It's late. I started watching the film Marathon Man, but there was something wrong with my recording and it skipped about an hour and a half of the film. At first I thought it was just a interesting experiment with non-linear narrative.

But rather than testing the conventions of film-making, it was merely testing my patience.

My patience failed the test.

My patience is always failing tests. It only has two GCSEs - and they were mostly down to the coursework.

I should go to bed. But I'm worried I might stumble on something useful.

What if I want to do a bit of stand-up material about missing the middle of Marathon Man? That would be a real hit with the old and old-at-heart.

"I found it difficult to find on DVD, because they changed the name to Snickers Man in 1990!"

*AUDIENCE LAUGHS (YES THEY DO)*

"Hey, what's the deal with Dustin Hoffman?"

*AUDIENCE CHUCKLES IN ANTICIPATION (MMM-HMM)*

"What was he, like, dusting off... a... man...?"

*AUDIENCE SORT-OF LAUGHS. THEY MAKE A NOISE LIKE "HEHHHHHHH"*

"My patience has two GCSEs!"

*CONFUSION*

"I'm... should I go to bed? Imagine that! Imagine me going to bed in the middle of my set! I'm anti-comedy."

*A WOMAN AT THE BACK OF THE ROOM REMEMBERS SOMETHING THAT HAPPENED TO HER WHEN SHE WAS NINE. HER AUNT PAM HAD DRESSED AS A CLOWN AND REFERRED TO HERSELF AS 'AUNTIE COMEDY'. CUSTARD PIES WERE THROWN. TEARS WERE SHED. THE CLOWN COSTUME WAS RETURNED TO THE WITCH FROM WHOM IT WAS PURCHASED*

"Maybe I'm asleep right now! Haw-phew! Haw-phew! I'm snoring!"

*ALL AUDIENCE GOODWILL IS GONE*

"Men and women are different, aren't they? Men are useless. Absolutely useless."

*GUFFAWS RESUME*

***

Then I'd probably end on a song. I'm just piecing this together. I think I'll have an hour ready for Edinburgh next year. It will mostly be about Marathon Man and gender politics. And sleeping. And that bit about GCSEs (which doesn't strictly fit in with the theme, but is too brilliant to lose).

I smell a Perrier!

French water... I ask you: why?

***

I should definitely go to bed.

But I seem to be cooking now.

I'm sitting on the hob.

I'M SITTING ON THE HOB!

(I'm not really sitting on the hob)

Definitely cooking...

I got distracted whilst writing this. Maybe I'm not cooking as much as I thought I was. That smoke was probably just plumes of dust. That sizzling was just my brain shutting down. That delicious aroma was just me. Raw, untrammelled me.

So I should sign off, man (like Hoffman) and make a gracious exit.

***

Someone should make a documentary about me. I'm open to offers.