Stuart's Blog

Not posted for a while so thought I’d pop one out as t’were, Tho’ not too much to report. Booked our first foreign holiday en famille the other day, I’m really looking forward to it I must say tho’ Vals’ a bit nervous. its only to France, so it’s not exactly the grand tour, but it’ll be exciting none the less and a definite test of my failed o’ level French.

Got phoned by the NTS (work it out for yourself) and offered a couple of shows to do, one of which I’d done before and will, more or less, be a relight, but the other will be a new devised kids show with a director I didn’t know, I’m sure it’ll be fine.

Got contacted, sort of ,by my father recently, which doesn’t sound that much, until you consider that he hasn’t played any significant role in my life for the last twenty years, that’s half of my life, so for various reasons too tedious to go in to here, he’s decided to get in touch by proxy, to say he wanted to meet up, meet the kids, get to know me and mine but I’ve said no. I’ll explain at some point but not now, maybe later. Much later.

Bubble Boy:It’s Moors you idiot, The Moors.
George: I’m sorry, it says Moops on the card…

Bloodycomputer just bloody wiped what I’d been bloody well typing for the last half-a-bloody-hour!!! To be bloody fair, it wasn’t really the bloody computer, but the bloody wireless modem/router box, that bloody lost it’s bloody connection when I tried to save the bloody thing! Bloody hell!! How often does the bloody technology, that we have all come to bloody rely on, and are sold the bloody stuff based on its bloody stability and relyabloodybility, dump you in the deep do-do every bloody time! Too bloody often thats how often. Its great when it deigns to work, it gets you screamin’ blue-bloody-murder when it bloody doesn’t. And we’re all beholden to this bloody thing, in thrall to the stranglehold it has on our every waking bloody hour. If you catch a bus, the timetable was worked out on a bloodycomputer; the drivers’ alarm clock that gets him up in the morning has a bloodycomputer in it, the bus’ engine has a bloodycomputer in its management system I could go bloody on but what’s the bloody point. I think I’m pushing against an open door here.

You know the feeling don’t you? The arty party, the high stakes meeting, those arguments…
and your nemesis lets a barbed comment fly in your direction, and the room hears it hit its mark, and you hear the laughter/gasps of recognition/shoe gazing silence, and.
And.
At the very moment of your death-by-acid-tongue, you search for the one tearse phrase to put your verbal jousting partner face down in the dirt…
And.
Nothing.
The agony, (for agony it is) lasts to your parting. Others, the onlookers, the mourners, the furtive glancers are gone and you descend the stairs a beaten soul.
When inspiration strikes.
For some reason the act of placing your hand on the door knob, walking out and down the stairs resurrects the wit in you.
Of course the French have a phrase for it

Busy now… will check back later when have time…maybe in January…no, maybe not even then…