Life and Death Etc., Part Three

One of the things I forgot to put in my last blog kinda harked back to Part One where I rambled on about my deal with the EuroMillions God about if I lost the lottery I gained my Dad’s life. On the Friday night before he died I won the EuroMillions Lottery. I won a grand total of £14. Fucked up eh? Last time I make a deal with anyone!

My wonderful family came and picked me up from the hospital about two hours after Dad died. They were shell-shocked, in recent years they’ve spent more time with him than I have, having him over at Christmas giving him some brilliant days and memories, and taking care of his day-to-day needs. I know he was extremely grateful for all that they did, and there will never be enough words to describe my gratitude.

The next morning I woke early as usual, and with my practical head fully in gear, I got cracking. I dunno if he’d had a premonition or not, but about a month before his op, Dad pre-paid for his funeral. I cannot tell you how simple this made things! I rang one number and a whole system was set in motion. There were a million little things that needed to be done and I’m not sure I did them in any kind of order, but it helped me to get a sense of moving forward.

The funeral director Greta arrived by 9.30 and while she was young enough to be my daughter, she had such a warmth and empathetic air about her that I felt reassured by her just being there. She advised me on what needed to be done, and took care of everything from putting the notice in the paper to sorting some flowers. Dad wasn’t a flower guy really, so I went with white Chrysanthemums cos they were my mum’s favourite flowers. I knew she’d like that, and if she was happy, Dad would be happy.

She dropped me off in town and I did a few errands. but it was more about distracting myself than anything else. I couldn’t get the death certificates till Wednesday, and I wasn’t seeing the lawyer till Tuesday. Alison came over and helped me find the Louis Jordan track amongst my Dad’s ton of CD’s. He really loved his music.

I remember being here in Thailand four years and ringing him to see how he was. He told me he’d bought a BOSE sound system, but it was on a seven-day trial and if I thought it was a waste of money he’d send it back. I told him to enjoy it. Mum wasn’t keen on music playing, it made her hot she said! Him buying that was a sign he was looking on the positive side of things after her death.
Anyway, the week rolled on and stuff got done. His funeral was set for 8th March - exactly one month since I took him into the hospital to have his operation. What a month!

I’d had a lovely meeting with the priest, and as I wasn’t raised Catholic even though both my parents are, I’m never sure of “priest etiquette” so I just tried to not say fuck and treat him with respect. He asked if I wanted any Buddhist reflections in the service which I thought was really cool of him, but it was not about my beliefs, it was about my Dad’s.

On the day, the sun was blazing and it seemed like the right kind of day to celebrate a life fully lived. He would’ve been really pleased at the turn-out of friends and family, lots of whom I didn’t know, but all of whom lined up to tell me what a wonderful man he was. My cousin Barry’s daughter Laura read a piece she’d written about him which was the most amazing testament to his love of life. Way to go Laura!

As the crematorium service ended Louis Jordan began to play and I heard the laughs behind me of “the lads” three of my Dad’s old school friends. They used to play that tune on a Saturday night when they were getting ready to go out on the pull!

Typical Dad, leaving his mates with a laugh.

Life and Death Etc., Part Two

By Friday 26 February I was on my way back up North. I had gigs booked at the new Frog and Bucket Comedy Club in Preston - booked way back so that I could have a free weekend home - and planned to stay at my Dad’s flat. I got an early train and dumped my case before catching the bus to Blackpool Friday afternoon.

When I got to Victoria Hospital I was a bit concerned to see my Dad on the oxygen again. I asked him what was going on and he said they told him he had pneumonia! Nobody had mentioned this to me during any of my calls since I left on Tuesday lunchtime.

He was talking with a very raspy voice, having ripped the trachae tube out of his throat twice during the week. At least I could understand him now. I found a nurse and asked what was going on. She got the registrar to talk to me eventually and I was told that he did indeed have pneumonia and when I asked why nobody had told me when I’d rung in the morning he said it wasn’t diagnosed then. Hmmmm

I sat with Dad, holding his hand. He told me he was tired and that he’d had enough. I think he knew that he didn’t have long - knew more than me that’s for sure! I was still convinced he would live.
What I wasn’t sure about anymore was the quality his future life would have. I think his dream of returning to the flat and living independently was just that now, a dream. I believe now that he knew that too.

I left eventually, in tears, I had to get back and get to my gig. The bus back to Preston was one of the gloomiest journeys I’ve ever had, and when I got in I sobbed my heart out. I looked at the time and went to start getting ready “the show must go on” and all that. Next thing I knew I was on the floor. I must’ve collapsed.

I got up off the floor and rang the Frog to cancel the shows. I hated dropping them in it as such short notice but I wasn’t sure I’d even make it out of the flat.

I got into bed, took some sleeping pills and managed a few hours. Saturday I was up and out early. To add to my hassles there was no bus to Blackpool and the trains were fucked up too. I did get a rail replacement bus and dashed straight to the hospital to see Dad. His bed was empty, and a nurse told me he’d been moved onto the regular heart ward.

I took this as a good sign, after all he must be getting better right? Why else would they move him to a ward where he would receive less care? I eventually found him and my optimism was dashed. Jesus he looked rough.

For the first time I kicked off. I’d bitten my tongue when they fucked up the orginal op, I’d said nowt when they held off fixing that for 72 hours cos they thought he might die, but this was too much!

He told me he’d been awake all night, freezing cold and when he rang for the nurse nobody came. Well I made sure somebody came now! I demanded to see the registrar, and Dr Roberts the original surgeon.

Within an hour he was back on CCU and both of us were receiving apologies from Dr Roberts. He had no idea why Dad had been moved, he stopped short of saying that it shouldn’t have happened.
They upped the dose of anti-biotics and gave Dad a go on the nebuliser. His breathing was shocking. To think he’d started this whole fiasco cos he was breathless and they assured him he’d be fine after the intial op!

When everybody left, I held his hand, told him I loved him and told him that from this point on I was with him for as long as he needed me. I was gonna cancel my gigs for the forseeable future and cancel the planned trip to Thailand. There was no way I was gonna leave him to the mercy of these people.

He just kept saying he was tired, that he wanted to go home. He asked me to take him home so that he could die. He’d not eaten for two days, but I managed to feed him some soup and bit of ice cream, and we sat together sometimes in silence and sometimes reminiscing about the past, about my mum who died 4 and a half years ago nearly.

Eventually, he calmed and his breathing seemed to ease up. About 7pm on Saturday night I left him fast asleep.

I made sure the nurses knew to call me whatever time, if there was any change - good or bad - and they promised they would. They were gonna try some intense treatment with the oxygen and anti-biotics to blast the pneumonia out of his lungs overnight. I left the hospital with a heavy heart. Having been so sure he was gonna recover for the last three weeks, now that hope was gone. I could see the light in his eyes was dimming. He’d stopped believing.

Somehow I got home, on a coach full of young people all laughing and joking after their day in Blackpool. I was kinda numb and really exhausted. I remember getting to the flat and falling into bed. It was gone 10pm.

Sunday morning I was awake reading replies on Twitter when they were interrupted by a call on the iPhone from Blackpool Victoria Hospital at 6.10am. I froze as I answered it. There was a kind voice on the other end telling me that Dad was refusing all treatment and kept saying he wanted to die.

The nurse suggested I get over asap. I said I would but as I got out of bed I was kinda dawdling till it hit me that this was serious. I threw some clothes on and phoned a cab to take me to Blackpool.
By 7.30 I was at my Dad’s bedside, I could see he was determined to go. He was clearer and more lucid than he’d been for some time. He said he was tired and he wanted to die. I told him I loved him and that if he really had had enough, I wasn’t gonna try and talk him round.

He was the most determined I had ever seen him, it was really uncanny. He said he’d rather go back to the flat so that he could die there, and at first I gave him some b/s about how if he ate some breakfast he might be strong enough to go home. He just looked at me, and I said ‘Fine. The truth is Dad, if you die at home it means all kinds of hassle and extra paperwork for me’. He smiled and said ‘Ok then, I’ll stay here’.

In between visits from nurses and the doctor on call, Dad and I chatted about his funeral. The only thing he really wanted was “Let The Good Times Roll” by Louis Jordan to be playing at his funeral.
My cousins Karen and Alison along with my second cousin Carla came over from Preston. Alison was great. Somehow she hid her distress and had Dad laughing. Just as she has done all her life.
I’m not that close to my family really, mainly of account of me living away from Preston for so long, but I tell you one thing, at times like this they’re the best support in the world.

As the day wore on I realised that in my mind I always imagine life is one big drama after another, whereas the reality is, it’s lots of little events occurring one after the other, all quite simple at the time.

I expected my Dad’s death to be this real big deal, with a weeping and wailing and a gnashing of teeth etc., but it wasn’t. The nurses gave him a couple of doses of morphine during the course of the afternoon. Dad got quieter and quieter.

About 7.0pm I was sitting holding his hand. He’d not spoken for a while and neither had I. We were just there, together. He squeezed my hand so tight it must’ve taken whatever strength he had left. I wept silently but remembered what my Buddhist book of Living and Dying said about keeping things peaceful, so even tho I was kinda screaming inside, externally I appeared calm.

About 8pm his breathing began to slow down. He seemed to be asleep and all I could do was hold his hand and tell him how much I loved him, how I forgave him for the past, and thanked him for letting me be with him.

I told the nurses his breathing had slowed and they disconnected the monitor in the room to give us some peace and quiet. They could still see outside what was going on, but it stopped the alarms going off.

Over the next hour or so, his breathing got slower and slower and shallower and shallower. There was no drama, no fuss, it was like watching your iPod running out of energy in a bizarre way! At 9.15 there was no more breath. He was gone.

He really did look at peace and it really did look like he was just asleep, slowly the colour drained out of his face, but his arm stayed pink and warm for a good hour! I know cos I was sat with him, holding it.

His chest seemed to still be moving even though he’d been pronounced dead, and the nurse told me that when you die everything doesn’t just shut down all at once. This was the powerful force that was Joseph Smith coming slowly to a halt.

It might sound gruesome, but actually it was all rather beautiful. I am so glad I’d been with him for most of the last month of his life, that he hadn’t suffered too much, he’d been unaware of a lot of what he went through thank God!

At the end of the day, he was an 83 year old man who lived life to the full and then some! He died peacefully after a short illness. That’s how its meant to be.

Jason Wood, dead at 38? That’s the tragedy.

Life and Death Etc., Part One

This is probably gonna be the hardest thing I’ve ever had to write. The last time I blogged about my Dad it was when I had dashed back up to Blackpool to find my Dad heavily sedated as his body had begun to shut down due to the slipped valve.

At the time, the surgeon wasn’t sure he was gonna pull through, but I felt he would. For one thing I had made a deal with God/Buddha/Whoever that I would forgo winning the Euro lottery that Friday night - and it was the £113 million draw! - if they would spare his life. When I checked my ticket I only had one number so that meant he would live. I know this sounds mad, and it is, but I’d had a recurring dream that I won £56million on the EuroMillions and bought a ticket every week since the third dream in a row. Ironically £56 million was the share of the amount the British couple won, so I was even more convinced that my Dad would be ok.

I spent that Friday night in a hotel near the Pleasure Beach, but was booked into the DeVere Heron’s Reach from Saturday. It’s a pretty swanky place, but the main reason I’d booked it was that it was about 10 minutes’ walk from the hospital. I dumped my bag there on Saturday and went into the ICU to see Dad. He had even more machines attached to him, and was out cold in a medically induced coma. I had a long chat with the nurse taking care of him and although I felt he was trying to prepare me for the worst, I knew my Dad wouldn’t die.

On the Sunday I called as soon as I woke up and was told he was a bit better. When I got in to see him in the afternoon, he was on one less machine and the decision had been made to fly in the surgeon from Italy needed to repair the TAVI. According to the heart surgeon at Blackpool, this had never happened here before and nobody in the UK was able to perform the op. Basically they didn’t do it sooner cos they didn’t think he would fight back enough to survive a second op.

Monday morning they did the op and it worked. The valve was now in the correct position, and hopefully his body would respond. It seemed to be doing just that, slowly they removed machine after machine, and as I extended my stay I was so sure that it was all gonna be fine.

The Thursday of that week, they decided to start bringing him out of sedation, and that meant replacing the breathing tube rammed down his throat with a trachae tube. This meant he wouldn’t be able to speak, but it seemed a small price to pay.

It took a while for him to start coming round, in fact it was Saturday afternoon before I got him to open his eyes. I’d sat there for two hours just chatting away to him and saying ‘open your eyes Dad’ about every third sentence. I guess it got through. I promised him everything would be ok, and I truly believed it would be.

Saturday night, I was in bed at 8pm - exhausted - when my mobile rang. Obviously I’d kept it on the whole time since my Dad went in for his op. In fact the only time it was off was when I was with him. As you can imagine I was hugely relieved when I saw my pal Ninia Benjamin’s name flash up. I figured she was calling to see how my Dad was doing.

That relief was incredibly short-lived as she gave me some news that even four weeks on I still cannot believe. Jason Wood was dead.

Typing that makes no sense. I’ve said it out loud and its like someone else is speaking. I think of how when I was there for my Dad, it was partly because Jason taught me how much family means - no matter what’s gone before - I’d planned to call him when things settled down a bit to thank him. Now that chance was gone. At 38, with what I believe was a brilliant future ahead of him, he’d done to bed after a great gig on the Friday night and just not woken up.

In theory its the perfect way to go, the problem is, it was about 50 years too soon for Jason.
On the Sunday morning, that news was still running through my head and I was still disbelieving. I got ready and went to see my Dad. He was awake and was mouthing words. Unfortunately, Dad has really thin lips “lips like a hen’s ass” as my mum so eloquently put it, so lip-reading was near impossible! I did manage to make out that he was tired and wanted to die.

With my heart breaking from the injustice of Jason’s death I kinda lost patience with my Dad. I explained that for whatever reason, he’d been given another chance, and that my friend hadn’t, now here was Dad wishing to throw that chance away! He seemed to understand and seemed to believe me when I told him what I’d been told, that he would be getting better, he was getting better! Every day there were fewer machines hooked up to him, and that became my method for measuring his recovery.

By the Tuesday he was recovering sufficiently for them to move him from CICU and put him on the Coronary Care Unit. He would still be closely monitored but was on his way out of this place!
I was confident enough to return to London after nearly two weeks up in Blackpool. A “wake” of sorts had been organised to remember Jason that night and I just wanted to be with other people who loved him and missed him. I thought it might make sense of what’d happened.

As I sat there listening to an array of Jason’s friends and family speaking from the heart about him, I sobbed. I’d not worn any mascara deliberately, and I know that Jason would’ve been pissed off with me for not making an effort. I just knew I’d be a mess whatever I did.

I was too upset to get up and speak, but it was a chance to think of my own special memories of him. His boundless kindness, his humour, his compassion, his love of life. What an inspiration he is!
A couple of my favourite memories of Jason illustrate his humour both intentional and unintentional I think.

When I’d had my gastric bypass and began losing weight Jason said to me “thank god you’re attractive JoJo, imagine being ugly and going through all that pain. You’d be thin but you’d still be ugly!” I laughed so hard that my new litte stomach ached.

The same day, he’d driven across London to collect me in that battered workman’s van of his, and then we drove back across town to the Tate Modern for a private view of the Gilbert and George exhibition that I had an invite to.

Jason wasn’t that up on art but he knew who they were and was looking forward to seeing the show. As we walked into a room that had a huge painting which featured the pair bent over pulling their ass cheeks apart Jason exclaimed in his campest voice “oooh I say! You couldn’t have that in your front room! Your mum would faint!”

When I had swine flu, Jason drove from Luton with a package of wellness formula capsules for me. He was terrified of catching it, so much so that I’d been teasing him about it only the week before at our gig at Up The Creek, but he still made that effort for me. He was funny tho as he rang my bell, dumped the parcel on my step and waited across the street for me to collect it.

God bless you Jason Wood. My life is all the better for having you in it. I just wanted more time with you.

Life....

... is what happens when you're making other plans, so the quote goes. I've found out this past week that is so true!

Just over a week ago I caught a train to Preston to see my Dad and help him get ready for his heart op. A lifetime of good living had left his aorta a bit knackered and he'd been waiting a while for a procedure known as a TAVI which was gonna open it all up again so he could breath easily once more.

Dad and I have a good relationship these days, tho some might find it unusual the way we joke about "my inheritance". I've made jokes of the blackest kind about being "set free" and getting my hands on my parents' hard earned dosh. The reality is, of course, that we all will die one day - some sooner than others as the tragic deaths of Alexander McQueen and that 21 year old Georgian Luge athlete this week - but for my entire life my Dad has had countless scares, and over the weekend as I packed his bag for admittance on Monday, I joked about how he would outlive me once he got his 'new heart'.

On Monday lunchtime, the lovely volunteer from Patient Transport arrived to drive us to the hospital in Blackpool. I had my luggage too, as a non-driver I was gonna stay in a hotel in town so that I'd be close by.

He was nervous on Monday, but in good spirits, he'd been wanting this op for a while and was glad that his suffering was about to come to an end. I think he thought the surgery would not only fix his heart but turn the clock back by at least 20 years!

Here he is


The operation took place on Tuesday afternoon, and took longer than expected, with a few complications. The TAVI had slipped a bit, and his heart rate dropped pretty dramatically so they'd fitted a pacemaker quite early on in the proceedings. Still by 7pm on Tuesday night I was sitting at his bedside and making him smile as we talked about how the worst was over, and how well he looked considering what he'd been through.

Wednesday morning I went to see him again and he was looking great. He'd had breakfast and a cup of much longed for coffee, and was sitting up. The physio came and gave him a few simple breathing exercises to clear his left lung. He did them and she said it was pretty good. I was coming back to London so when they asked me to leave the room while they gave him a wash, I kissed him bye bye and told him I loved him.

I told him my phone would be on 24/7 and if he needed me for anything over the next few days, to call, even if it was only a chat in the middle of the night if he couldn't sleep. He thanked me for all I'd done for him and said he'd see me soon.

I came home feeling really positive, by the time I got to my flat, he'd been moved off the CITU ward and onto the Cardiac Care suite, my cousin went to see him Wednesday night and said he was cracking jokes and looking and sounding fab.

Thursday morning I was up to go get the stitches out of my nipple. I'd had scar revision surgery a week ago following my lumpectomy last year. That was all good, and on the way home I rang again to see how he was doing.

Not as well was the answer. There were problems with his kidneys and they were gonna move him back to CITU. My other cousin and his wife went to see him just after he'd been moved and said he was still cracking jokes and not in any pain.

By 9pm that night the surgeon rang me. They were debating whether or not to re-do the TAVI operation on Friday, and he would keep me informed.

Friday morning I was up early, planning to go to yoga for the first time in a couple of weeks, but before I went I called the hospital and was given not such great news. Dad's condition was deteriorating and there was still no decision about the op. I asked outright if I should come up and was told there was nothing urgent. However, by this point his kidneys had stopped functioning completely and his lungs weren't in great shape either. I made a decision to come to Blackpool anyway - times like this I wish I could drive! - as London is simply too far away for a short-notice dash.

I cancelled my gigs for the weekend, and a huge thanks to Darrell Martin and Dave Bourne for being so cool about that, and sorted out a couple of hotels. I rang the hospital back and their story had changed. They were now advising me to come up as soon as I could.

I did and was met outside CITU by the staff nurse taking care of my Dad. She explained the situation: basically he's under deep sedation and machines are now breathing for him, keeping his heart beating, and taking the piss - literally!

She warned me he wasn't looking too good, and boy was she right. I sat by the bed sobbing and begging him not to die and leave me alone whilst praying to his god and mine for mercy.

Its now Saturday morning and he's still "stable" whatever that means. At the moment he is too sick to re-do the op and even if they could, they have to fly a surgeon in from France or Italy, cos its never gone wrong like this here and nobody can do the work needed!

I'd say its down to fate or karma or god's will or even my Dad's will to live.

All I can do is wait and see...

Eyebrows!

So yesterday I went to the Urban Retreat at Harrods where the lovely Hazel, who I have to say is an artistic genius, tattooed on my face a pair of gorgeous eyebrows!

Its not the first time I've had this done, I got em done a couple of years ago, but I was platinum blonde back then and the person who did them seemed to have a problem listening to me when I explained what I wanted. As the pigment they use is semi-permanent, they fade over time, so I was thrilled to find Hazel. Even better she charged about half of the other woman's fee!

I was even more thrilled when after two hours' work yesterday I left Harrods with the most amazing pair of dark brown brows! Its all a bit sore right now, and they look incredibly fake, but by Friday all the swelling will be gone and the colour lifted a bit. I love 'em!

And This Is Me...

... at the Comedians' Christmas Party a couple of weeks ago. Incredibly vain of me to post it I know, but its not every day I get my photo taken with a handsome man. Cheers Mr Norcott!

Glee! Glee! Glee! I Am Just Full Of Glee!!!

As anyone who has even browsed my posts will know, The Glee Club in Birmingham is perhaps my favourite gig in the world ever, and I was lucky enough to be the MC there last weekend.

What a treat it was! The line-up included John Moloney, Ben Norris, Sarah Millican and fleeting appearances from Andrew Lawrence and Andi Osho. Now you'd expect at least one of us to have at least one ropey gig over the entire weekend, but we didn't. Not one of us, not once! It was sheer bliss both onstage and off from start to finish. On Saturday I even got to hook up with the other comics who were appearing at the Highlight in Birmingham for lunch - here's to Paul Sinha, Martin Mor and Marty McLean.

And onto another type of Glee Club, the one on the telly. Now as we all know, I am only a penis away from being a very camp gay man, so me loving this E4 show was pretty much a given. What I wasn't expecting was just how much I would love it! Its like a dose of sunshine on a bleak winter's Monday night, and show four - the "Single Ladies" episode - is my tv highlight of the year! I know its only January, but if anything is gonna top Kurt's kick on the football field, its gonna have to be pretty special!

Waiting...

... For Godot

Yep you heard me, last week I went to see that very same Samuel Beckett play at the Theatre Royal, Haymarket. A pretty stellar cast too - Sir Ian McKellen, Roger Rees, and errrr Matthew Kelly!

My pal Paul had organised the tickets and on the night we went, all the money was going to the Haiti earthquake fund, so a result all round I'd say.

Now as regular readers will know, I'm no expert on the theatre darling, but I really, really enjoyed this play! The two leading actors were funny, and fabulous. It was explained to me that its really a euphemism for life, and as a result it really resounded with my living in the now thing. Well worth a look.

Even Matthew Kelly isn't that annoying!

Blimey! There's a Banksy Movie on the Way

Check it out!


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GTlm6dU2xHk

Onwards and Upwards

So life is exciting at the moment.

I'm off to do my only official Christmas shows of the year at The Glee Club in Birmingham and soooo cannot wait to get on that stage!

Come and say hi!

Ups and Downs

So I have been reading the works of Eckhart Tolle over the last few weeks and I guess we come to things when we most need them.

His philosophy is all about being in the "now", about not clinging to the past or being a victim of your own past, and about not craving a future which will never come. Its a very Buddhist concept and I'm sure Mr Tolle would be the first to admit that that's where he got his idea from.

What he's done is put the message in plain english, so the even the most simple minded of us can grasp it. The last few weeks however, have tested my grasp of these teachings to the fullest. First there was the big shake-up in my working life, then last week I got the results of a series of blood tests which indicate I have Lupus. Basically my immune system has turned on my body and begun attacking it.

This is all very new to me, and I'd be the first to admit I know very little about the subject, I only realised something was wrong when I could no longer get my diamond ring on cos my knuckles had swollen up! Over the last few months I had noticed all of my joints were becoming more and more painful, and that I was feeling tired a lot more than I should be. I was putting it down to over zealous exercise and the menopause, well now I know differently.

I've got to have a lot more tests done, and the decline isn't rapid - well not so far - so hopefully by staying fit and eating well I should be able to stave off the worst of it all.

Just goes to show that there's very little point in planning too far ahead, being in the now is what counts!

What a Week!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So this week has panned out rather differently than I expected, and it's not over yet!

Last Sunday I saw the fabulous Dr Blum for my post-Botox check up. I'd toyed with the idea of getting the fillers and mesotherapy but the reality is that at the moment it seems an unnecessary expense. I was more impressed with the little taster of Carboxy Therapy that he gave me on my thigh lift scars last time. While the scar was still there, it was a lot smoother and far less 'angry' looking. As he gave me a teeny touch up of botox in my neck, I told him that if I were to pay for any treatments it would be that.

Luckily for me its way cheaper than the fillers and stuff, and even luckier for me, he gave me a full session for nowt! He injected Co2 into my leg and tummy scars, even the scar where my new belly button is, and for the piece de resistance, he injected the Co2 into my neck! Now there aren't any scars there, but ever since I had all the excess skin removed from my neck, 18 months ago, I've had two red patches under each ear. It was like a cross between bruises and rosacea. Well less than a week after the treatment, its 80% gone!!!!! The carbon dioxide has done what massage and Creme de la Mer couldn't!

Dr Blum aka Dr Chez Vous works out of Beauty Works West in Lambton Place http://www.beautyworkswest.com/drblum.html and I can't recommend him highly enough!

So that was Sunday, Monday was cool, bit of exercise, a flu jab and some socialising with a good friend. Tuesday started off well too, hardcore yoga, lunch with a pal and some work on my TEFL course. Tuesday night all hell let loose as the news broke that Regent Inns - Jongleurs' parent company - had gone into pre-pack administration and five venues were shut that day, for good!

Of course I had weekends booked in at all five clubs and a copy of a contract confirming this. Three of the weekends were just general shows but the other two were Xmas runs - the gigs that pay the income tax bill - so I wasn't best pleased to say the least!

I emailed the booker and on Wednesday received and email telling me they were going to honour the gigs and pay us. "Fabulous" I thought, "that sleepless night was for nothing". To celebrate I went out and saw some art - the incredible Ed Ruscha at the Hayward, who just blew my mind - and the Turner Prize Nominees at Tate Britain. My tip for the winner is Roger Hiorns. I even bought myself a piece of art in the shape of a silk scarf designed by previous winner Grayson Perry.

All the while, my thoughts were with the staff of the five clubs that closed, the rumours are that they are not even getting this month's salary, on top of being jobless at Xmas. Poor fuckers.

Thursday morning and I am just leaving the gym, en route to the library, when I get another call from Jongleurs telling me that the new owners have decided not to honour the gigs and pay us after all. Basically, contract or not, we have to get in line with everybody else they owe money to and hope for a few crumbs.

Now I am far from wealthy, but you know what? I would rather any money they were ever gonna pay me goes to the poor sods who've worked really hard running those venues and working in the kitchens, behind the bars etc., they are the real losers here.

Anyway, last night I was doing the lovely Funny Side Of... double up in the City and Covent Garden. I dunno if it was the threat of impending poverty and the thoughts of a dozen comedians chasing each gig or not, but I seemed to shift up a gear. I had two fantastic shows and came up with a ton of new stuff!

I'm off to Portsmouth later today to play the Wedgewood Rooms and I'm hoping this good vibe lasts. Maybe this week's events were the kick up the ass I needed!

Twelve Months After

Last Saturday - 10 October - marked 12 months since my final lot of plastic surgery in Kuala Lumpur. Thinking back on it all, it was a fairly traumatic experience - having to cancel my week with the orangutans being the most upsetting part to be honest!

A year later, are there any regrets? Nope. Not one. If you can't be bothered to read back to my blogs of the whole experience, I basically had a 360 degree body lift, and a thigh lift to remove the excess skin caused by my 10stone weight loss. It wasn't without it's dramas, like the stitches coming undone on the thighs twice, but the surgeon Dr Jalil was a fantastic man who put me at my ease.

I went there with a company called Gorgeous Getaways and I would thoroughly recommend them as a way of having plastic surgery abroad. The staff were really kind - especially Ndang who was my daily visitor, ready to run any errands I might have and even doing my laundry for me! On top of that she never once failed to make me laugh and see the bright side of the most trying of circumstances.

I can't say that it was much cheaper than having it all done here, but I did get a month in a six star hotel and the most amazing aftercare - which I wouldn't have gotten here for that price. This is the link to their site http://www.gorgeousgetaways.com/home.htm

The scars are still pretty severe, but as I was mincing around London this summer in my cut-off denim shorts and sunbathing in my bikini with not one ounce of shame, I knew it had all been worth it.

On the scar front, I saw a new botox doctor a couple of weeks back the wonderfully named Dr Chez Vouz - on account that he leathers up and comes to you on his motorbike armed with syringes full of wrinkle-busting poison. I actually went to him cos he works out of Beauty Works West in Lambton Place, W11. Its the third time I've had botox and Dr Blum was the third doctor to administer it, I have to say I think he's been the best yet! He also has this neat thing where you go back two or three weeks' later and he tops you up, thus avoiding the Danni effect.

If you wanna go and see him here's the link http://www.beautyworkswest.com/

Anyway in addition to freezing my face, Dr Blum also demonstrated a wonderful new machine he has to obliterate scars. He blasted a bit of the scar on the back of my left thigh, and whilst it hurt like hell, it's definitely faded a fair bit! I'm seeing him for my top-up this weekend so will find out exactly what it is he used.

Ain't science brilliant!

Pop Life!

Not the Prince tune, the exhibition at the Tate Modern that opened last week. I was lucky enough to get an invite to the Private View, and got there before the crowds arrived. It was really comprehensive in that it had a bit of something by everyone - apart that is, from Richard Prince, his picture of a naked 10 year old Brooke Shields had been removed on 'police advice' before the doors were opened - but everything else was there and available to view.

You had to be 18 or above to see Jeff Koons fucking his ex-wife in both glass and in paint, both pieces are gorgeous, tho not really erotic. I love that fact that Mr Koons has given himself a rather large penis. Now that's what I call artistic license!

There's some Hirst, Emin, Warhol, Lucas, etc etc etc. Its a one stop PopArt experience.

If you are not that sussed when it comes to this genre, then this is a brilliant introduction, I would've preferred a bit more depth, but somehow the shallowness of the show suits the subject.

Chattin' Shit

Soooooo it's been far too long since I blogged and that is gonna change. I think doing the constant updates on Twitter (I'm MissJoJoSmith on there) have meant that blogging feels like I'm repeating myself, or something!

Anyway last week I did a load of gigs. Wednesday saw me hosting a Comedy Speed Dating night at Up The Creek. I'd never been to one before, so was fascinated to see how it works. I was pleasantly surprised to be really honest. Almost everyone was really young and attractive, and only a couple of the guys looked like rapists! There was also more men than women which surprised me immensely.

My job was to commentate on how thing were going between the 20-odd couples, but of course they were all so busy getting to know each other, that I was getting in the way really. At the end of the dating, everyone seemed really happy and one couple was snogging! Rob Collins did a set at the end and it was all a fabulous success I reckon.

Thursday saw me back in Greenwich for Up The Creek's 20th Birthday Party. It was a benefit for the Damelza Children's Hospice - a fantastic cause - and there was a right motley crew of comics there! Everyone from Chris Luby to the gorgeous Ninia Benjamin to Andrew Maxwell! Kevin McCarthy MC'd the opening section and I ended up being the first act on. I had a terrific time, really great fun. I stuck around for a couple of drinks and some delicious Thai food, along with a catch up with some of my most favourite people.

Friday and Saturday saw me at Battersea Jongleurs hosting fantastic bills on both nights. I had a real blast and even got a chance to see the fabulous Tara Flynn who turned up with her handsome fiance on Saturday night to watch the early show.

In the 90 minute break in between shows, myself, Nick Wilty and Rudi Lickwood were all interviewed by Phil Butler for the comedy podcast he does. I was dead impressed at how professional both the technology and his interviewing skills were. Listen to it yourself at http://thegreenroompodcast.com/ or click on the title of this blog to go to the site. There's 14 other shows to catch up on!

Edinboro!!!!!!!!!!!!

So a couple of weeks back now I left behind the sunshine of London and made my annual 48 hour excursion to the Edinburgh Fringe Festival. This has been a tradition of mine for six years now, thanks wholly to my darlingest, best comedy chum Stephen K Amos. He does a show every year, each time in a bigger venue than the previous year. This year he was playing to sold out houses in a 750 seater venue at The Pleasance. He was previewing the show he'll be taking around the country from now till February 2010, "The Feelgood Factor". If you haven't bought your tickets to see it in a venue near you, get on and do it. Its Stephen at his best!

He very graciously puts me up in his flat, and I get to hang out with him for a couple of days. Every year we have a right laugh and this year was no different.

Other than that, life has consisted of lots of gigs here, there and everywhere, with loads of great comedians, lots of exercise, and tons of yoga.

Life is pretty calm - can't tell you how good that feels!

Catching Up On Culture!

So what with the swine flu and life in general, my outside interests had taken a bit of backseat. In the last few weeks tho I have been making up for lost time.

I headed off to the Serpentine Gallery to see their summer exhibition. This time it's Jeff Koons' Popeye Series, and as always with his work it blew me away! The sculptures that look like giant seaside inflatables are actually made aluminum and really dare you to touch them, just to be sure. I guess that's why there's so many staff wandering about!

The paintings are pop art at its best and I seriously wanted to bring them all home with me. If only those EuroMillions numbers would come up!

I was there before the Pavillion was unveiled but judging by the photos, that looks pretty awesome too. From above it looks like a river of mercury flowing around the park and was designed by the same Japanese architects that did the gorgeous New York New Museum. See em both!

I've also been going to the cinema a fair bit for both high and lowbrow films. I saw Bruno which made me gasp, squeal and cackle with glee at Sasha Baron Cohen's balls of steel, I also saw The Hangover which was great fun too. One that didn't make me laugh quite so much (apart from at the godawful dialogue) was AntiChrist. Lars von Trier's latest piece of "art". I'm glad I saw it but it really was dreadful. Like watching a really slow motion car crash, you should turn away but you can't!

Today I saw Audrey Tatou's new one Coco Avant Chanel. I can't recommend this one highly enough. Its less a chick flick, more a woman's movie. Ms Tatou perfectly captures Mlle Chanel, the clothes are exquisite and the whole movie just looks beautiful. After seeing it, I am not sure I can ever wear Primark again!

You Swine!!!!!!!!!

So here's a lesson in taking the piss and karma.

Last weekend I was working at Up The Creek - where I had two brilliant gigs btw - and on the Friday night there was a woman on the front row who was a swine flu survivor. I actually thought that just breathing the same air as her would make me immune! On Saturday night the fabulous Jason Wood was on and he is obsessed about catching it. He's got anti-bac gel everywhere and even wears the masks! I was teasing him saying 'Oh it's no big deal! If you're gonna catch it you will and if you won't, you won't'.

Cut to Tuesday night and I noticed my night sweats were far more hardcore than they have been - more than menopause. I woke up on Wednesday not feeling all that great and actually changed my plans from a session at the gym to a session in TopShop, but even in there I wasn't feeling that great. My chest hurt, I was coughing and sneezing, I was hotter than usual, and had the beginnings of a headache. By Wednesday night I was aching everywhere - even my eye sockets! - and the sneezing and coughing was getting worse.

Thursday morning I had the shits and felt really sick on top of all the other symptoms, so went online to check the NHS Direct site, as I ticked box after box I began to feel a bit panicky. The result was "phone your GP". I did and a few hours later I was taking my first Tamiflu capsule.

I had to cancel my gigs at Camden Jongleurs this weekend. I doubt I could've made it to the stage, but once you have this you're not supposed to leave the house anyway. As much as I hate losing money, I couldn't live with myself if I'd infected my colleagues.

It really is a fucker tho, apart from all the usual flu symptoms cranked up to 11, I've also got this weird spacing out thing where its like I've been in a trance for a few minutes before I'm back in the room.

Oh well, at least I get to catch up on all my missed sleep, and I've learned not to take the piss!

More Banksy!!!!!!!!

I guess Banksy shows are like buses, you wait ages for one then a bunch come along at once!

The old Theatre Museum in Covent Garden is playing host to a show called Please Love Me, a selection of works found in and around London over the last 10 years. Its on till 25th and is unofficial apparently, but its great to see the pieces!









Fabulous stuff!

Banksy Vs Bristol Museum

I went today. Oh My God!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The most amazing exhibition I have ever seen! Please Mr Banksy "borrow" one of my jokes and give me the McNugget Chicks as payment!!!!!



or this one



or this one!

Golden Oldies

This year seems to be all about the comebacks for me. Musically speaking that is.

I started the year with the wonderous Grace Jones at the Roundhouse, followed that up with The Specials at Brixton Academy who exceeded all my expectations and then some, and then last week me and my pal Paul headed off to Hyde Park to witness the triumphant return to London of Blur.

I'd bought the tickets last year and got them cos I kinda felt I should - if that makes sense - I was a fan but not a fanatic you know? To tell the truth I was as much a fan of Damon and Graham's solo efforts as I was of them as Blur.

All that changed when I saw them live last week. It was such a joyous celebration. A celebration of music in general, of their music in particular, of life, of London, of humanity. All of which sounds a bit soppy I know but the gig just had such a great vibe.

I really hope that's not the end of their reunion, given the type of things Graham and Damon have been up to in the intervening years, I think a new Blur album would be something pretty awesome!

I don't think they will stop there, they looked like they were having way too much fun. Alex James never looked as happy yakking about cheese as he did jumping up and down with a fag hanging out of his mouth playing at being a rockstar again! Dave and Graham looked a bit overwhelmed, and Damon had moist eyes more than once, when he didn't have the biggest shit eating grin on his face that is!



We want more Blur please.

What Else...

... have I been doing recently?

I'm struggling to remember to be honest!

The boob saga is drawing to a close as the wound is all but healed now which is a massive relief. I must say a huge thanks again to Mr Jan Stanek and his brilliant nurse Steph for treating me. The problem was nothing to do with the work he'd done on me last year, but he fixed it free of charge as the NHS fobbed me off with some bullshit lines.

The massive upside is a pair of the perkiest titties ever seen on a 48 year old woman! I don't even need to wear a bra! Fabulous!

I went to see a whole bunch of my comedy chums in the new Ken Loach movie Looking For Eric. I'm not really a football fan, but it didn't matter. Its a fantastic story, really funny and really gritty. Cantona was terrific, and best of all, none of my mates were crap in it! So well done to Smug Roberts, Justin Moorhouse, MIck Ferry and Greg Cook.

I've really gotten into the gym as well as my yoga classes, and most days do at least a workout or a class. It's paying off in all kinds of ways. Physically obviously, but also mentally and there's nothing like aching limbs to focus your mind away from anything that isn't right in your life! I've even started running on the treadmill now!

I know its probably a bit tedious for everyone else, but I really can't stress enough how fantastic it is to be fit, the novelty of not being hugely overweight and sweating just putting my shoes on, has yet to wear off!

Its Been A Long Time ....

Since I blogged and while life has been a bit hectic that's not the reason.

A couple of weeks ago we had the European Elections, and like most folks I went to cast my vote. I was horrified to see the BNP right at the top of the list of candidates. Like a lot of people, I too am pissed off with the Labour Party, Gordon Brown, and the whole expenses scandal concerning MP's across all parties. Something inside me wouldn't let me put my cross by the Labour candidate's name for the first time since I was 18. So, as a protest, I voted for Arthur Scargill's "real proper left wing socialist Labour party" or whatever they're called. I wouldn't say I was a socialist even with a small "s" but I saw Mr Scargill give a speach once at County Hall and he was awesome, so he got my vote. Quite a few of my pals voted Green for similar reasons. That's what a protest vote is.

A protest vote is not being pissed off with Labour and voting for the BNP. When the results came in and that abhorrent creature Nick Griffin was elected as a member for the North West, along with his fellow thug Brons in Yorkshire, I actually did feel a little bit of sick in the back of my throat. What made me more ill, was the media saying 'Oh people voted for them as a protest against Gordon Brown'. You don't become a nazi cos of the recession, you don't vote for a party who believes that anyone who isn't white and British born has no right to live in this country, you just don't!

People voted for the BNP because they are racist, because their own small lives are easier to bear if they can blame "them" for the fact that they are redundant as a human being. The "them" they hate can be anyone from a homosexual, an Afro-Carribean woman, a Polish plumber, a Muslim or a Jew. It really doesn't matter, these people choose to hate rather than do something to change their own situation.

Anyone who knows me or has seen my act, will know that I am a billion miles away from Mark Thomas when it comes to political comedy, but racism is the one thing I've never got. It just seems such a stupid thing to hate someone cos they are different. We are all bloody different!

At 16 I was on the Rock Against Racism march to Victoria Park, along with a gazillion other punks, politicos and ordinary people. In South Africa I got shit for standing up to a PR guy who set us all up on a lunch with a "nazi" politician.

I've had bleach squirted under my front door and was even attacked by youths where I used to live - because I have black friends. I even got hate mail from Combat 18 when I was writing about telly for the Standard cos they thought JoJo was the name of a black man! FFS!!!! I was surprised those morons could actually write a letter I have to say!

Anyway, that's why I haven't blogged cos I didn't wanna just say 'anyone who voted for the BNP is a thick racist cunt' . I mean they are, but I wanted to be calmer before I spoke my mind.

My wish is that one day we all wake up and realise that we are on this planet together, we need to work as a team, not English against Scots, black against white, gay vs straight, Jew vs Muslim. We are all in it together, so lets stop fucking about and start caring for each other!

Sorry.....

Just realised its been aaaages since I've written a blog. I think its the Twitter effect. Cos I spend a fair amount of time uploading various banal thoughts and actions on there, its kinda taken away the need to blog so often.

The other thing is that life really does seem to be frantic at the moment. Most mornings are taken up either with dashing down to Wimpole Street to have the dressing on my breast changed (its healing nicely btw) or going to my new gym.

I finally got my first workout programme, once the hand had healed from the shattering glass doorknob saga, and while its a fraction of the stuff I was doing at home, but infinitely more effective! Just little tweaks to the bicep and tricep curls, a new way of doing crunches, and its like my body has been kick started! I'm seeing results after only two weeks! Plus 25 minutes at speed on the cross trainer is adding a whole new dimension to the muscles in my legs.

Just as well really, cos my newly found high heel fetish shows no signs of diminishing! After getting the most awesome pair in Brum the other week, yesterday I succumbed to a pair of pale grey patent platform courts at Office that are just amazing! The heel is at least 5" and I tower over most people in them, but I actually wore them onstage last night and didn't fall once! It's amazing how a pair of fabulous fuck me pumps will make even the plainest of outfits something special. I was only wearing skinny jeans and a t-shirt but I looked fierce! So many wasted years in flatties!

Talking of the stage, this weekend I am gigging at one of my Top Five comedy clubs in the world - The Glee Club in Cardiff - and so far I'm having a terrific time. The line-up is great, Matt Welcome, Stefano Paolini and Trevor Crook (plus on Thursday, new to me comic Tom Craine who was brilliant).

My confidence onstage had taken a bit of a knock recently due to some ill-informed comments, and it had been inhibiting my performances, but last night's show especially confirmed that the best thing for me to be is the best me I can be! I cannot be the comedian other people want or expect me to be and its pointless trying. If I was gonna fake it, I'd become an actor. It's been a pretty horrid few weeks, but I feel I'm out of the black hole now and onwards and upwards and fuck the haters!

Ps on Twitter I now have over 900 followers and I know they read my site and my blog, so I will thank you all here too for following me. If you're reading this and not on Twitter, get on there! I am MissJoJoSmith on there.

Laters folks xxx

A Very Special Night!

Sooooooo last night I finally got to go and see The Specials at the Brixton Academy.

This year is shaping up to be the year I see bands/people from my past, first Grace Jones and now Terry Hall and the lads. Adding to that I went with my old mate Andrew Gosling who I'd not seen for years after he gave up comedy for something far more lucrative!

The walk from Brixton tube was fascinating. A selection of punks, a few mods, a lot of skinheads - all of whom were old enough, fat enough and bald enough to know better - had dusted down the threads of their youth and squeezed into em for the night. For the most part they were accompanied by their offspring some of whom looked like they weren't entirely there by choice!

Once we got inside, it was brilliant! The place was heaving, I can't remember the last time I was in such a crowd of people all there for the same reason. It felt like 'above the fire limit' full but that could have something to do with the aforementioned girth of the majority of the gig goers!

The group came on about 9.30 and were just incredible! I was a bit sad that Jerry Dammers had pulled out, but in the end he wasn't really missed. They were so tight and the songs sounded really fresh! It wasn't 'ska-reoke' it was relevant and vibrant and fucking awesome! I even danced!

I was right back there, all those gigs, The Greyhound before they even had a deal when Mick Jagger tried to sign them to Rolling Stones Records, but failed cos he was wearing brown cords! The Lyceum gig at the end of the Two-Tone Tour where I met my future employers, Dexys Midnight Runners, it all came flooding back! I was 18 again and I loved it.

Thanks lads.

Ps Terry Hall is looking very handsome these days, in a dirty kinda way!

Loving Hospital Food!

I must be!

Since my last blog I've been back to the Welbeck for Mr Stanek to remove this mysterious lump in my boob. He said he would do it under local anasthetic, which after the experience I had with my hand didn't fill me with confidence, of course the difference when you go private is that they give you a lovely injection of vallium so you sleep through the op anyway.

I was having it done privately because the NHS had refused to treat me. I have a long history of lumpy breasts, years ago I had one removed from my right breast, and six years ago the left one had this golf-ball sized abscess which almost ruptured! That time I was treated at St Mary's in Paddington and they drained it with the aid of a needle and ultrasound, but didn't actually remove the pocket where it had developed. At the time I was told it had occurred because I was overweight and I smoked.

When the lump came back last June, I went to my GP and was given anti-biotics for weeks on end. Of course this did nothing, and in the end (my regular doctor who is awesome was on leave) I took myself off to A&E to try and get it treated. I was referred back to the breast specialist I'd seen five years before, and he even remembered me. However he said they wouldn't treat me any further because I'd had a boob job. He said this was the cause of the lump - which by now was incredibly swollen and painful. I reminded him that last time he said it was the fat and the fags and he just shrugged.

I was due to have a second boob lift in January and Mr Stanek said he would take a look at it. Strictly speaking this lump was nothing to do with him, but I told him about the NHS refusing me treatment and blaming the boob job and he agreed to take it on, bless him. I should add he has not charged me for either the second lift or any of the exploratory work on the cyst/lump.

To cut a dreary and rather gruesome story short, it was drained again but didn't ever heal, and now there was an opening for the "stuff" to come out, come out it did!

So there I was two weeks ago having a tunnel dug into my breast and apparently two cysts removed! The tunnel is packed with an anti-biotic tape to help it heal from within, and this is what's happening.

At least I hope so!

Due To ....

.... a variety of circumstances beyond my control, I've had to withdraw from the Action Aid Himalaya trek this October... luckily no-one had pledged any money so there's not an issue there. I'll consider my deposit a donation and hopefully one of these days life won't get in the way of my goals!

Ouch!!!!!

Sooooooooo yesterday morning I had another brilliant yoga class with the hardcore teacher, followed by a lovely coffee in the park cafe. So far so good.

I was going out in the afternoon to see some friends, so decided to change. I opened my wardrobe door to get a pair of shoes out, and boom! Half of the glass doorknob was on the floor and the curve of my thumb was squirting blood! Yikes. I was in a state of undress so wrapped some toilet roll round it while I put some clothes on. The blood soon soaked through so that the clothes I put on soon resembled a butcher's apron! I rang a cab and grabbed a clean teatowel and wrapped that round, but minutes later that too was covered in blood, and I was feeling very faint. Called an ambulance and cancelled the cab - figured the driver would refuse to take me what with all the blood and all.

Two lovely paramedics turned up and did their assessment thing, then took me to St Mary's Hospital. I didn't actually faint but must've lost a ton of blood as it was still squirting out! Got seen by an odd doctor, who on hearing I was a comedian decided he would cheer me up by telling me a rape 'joke' before causing me the most intense pain ever by injecting the local anaestheic into the cut. I haven't screamed like that in a long time!

All stitched up, I finally got out about 5.30, the blood still coming. Came home laden with a selection of dressings, painkillers and latex gloves so that I could shower etc.

Just goes to show, you never know what the day has in store for you!

Pablo is God!

Since I started my little art journey a few years ago, I've seen a fair bit of Picasso's work. In Barcelona at the Picasso Museum I was impressed by the ceramics - they didn't have much else there when I went. Guernica blew my mind when I saw it in Madrid, and I would've happily said I was an admirer of his talent.

Today however my admiration went to a whole new level. The National Gallery has an exhibition called Challenging the Past and its one of the best exhibitions I've seen in a looooooong time, and head and shoulders above any Picasso show I've ever seen. Some of the pieces are so awesome I actually did get a bit teary at their beauty! Course it could be my hormones!

Go and see for yourself its on till 7 June.

Gimme Yer Fookin Money!!!!!!!!

http://www.myactionaid.org.uk/jojosmith

That's the link I want you all to click on or C&P cos I am going to be doing something I never dreamed possible this October. I am doing a five day trek in the Himalayas, followed by renovating a shelter for street kids in Delhi.

Now two years ago climbing the three flights of stairs up to my flat felt like climbing the Himalayas and I haven't painted/decorated my own place since I was on the dole back in the early 80's. These days I am blessed enough to be able to get a man in for that sort of thing!

Anyway, that's what I'm gonna be doing, and I want you all to give what you can. I've paid the costs myself obviously, so everything you give goes straight to Action Aid for the wonderful work they do all across the world.

I know it's only a week since Comic Relief raised that amazing amount of money, but surely you can spare a quid or two?

Please.

iPhone!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So this week my contract with Vodaphone came to an end, and I got my very first iPhone. I am a huge fan of all things Apple, but my god, nothing prepared me for the sheer bliss that is the iPhone! I had my Blackberry for two years and never mastered a quarter of it's capabilities, I've had the iPhone four days and am zipping around it like a demon! Faaaaabulous!

In other news I was up in Glasgow last weekend for two cracking gigs at Jongleurs with a terrific line-up - Phil Walker, Andrew Murrell and Tony Hendriks - all of whom tore up the stage. I had a nice treat on the flight back to sexy Luton as we bumped into best-selling novelist (and sometime comedian) Mark Billingham. Funnily enough he's an iPhone fan and was extolling the virtues during the flight. If you haven't read any of his books, do yourself a favour - they're fantastic!

This week I've also been stepping up my workout, I've got a challenge coming up and need to be super fit for it, so this is the start. Needless to say, I have new aches everywhere!

I had a little spree in TopShop on Wednesday - they've got some amazing new clothes in there and I was - for me - relatively restrained!

Last night I did a pair of Funny Side gigs in town which I thoroughly enjoyed, and tonight I get to go and do one of my favourite Jongleurs in Reading. Tomorrow I'm off to Bath to do the Komedia there which is very exciting as I've not played there before. In fact the last time I was in Bath was nearly 20 years ago when I did a week-long intensive driving course and failed my test for being "too cautious". Not a criticism that's been levelled at me too often in my life!

Botoxxxxxxxxxxx!!!!!!!!!!

So this morning I went to get my second-ever dose of Botox. The first lot, back in October 2008 was done in Kuala Lumpur by the lovely Dr Jalil. I prayed it would hurt so that I wouldn't get it done again, sadly it didn't, so I found myself back at Mr Stanek's gaff this morning, placing myself in the hands of the lovely Francis. I've also had Restylane fillers in the creases that go from the sides of your nose down to your mouth. This was surprisingly cheaper than I anticipated, and thanks to the cream they put on half an hour beforehand, not painful either! Looks like this ain't gonna be a one-off.

When I think back to my first trip to see Mr Stanek, I was all about being 'natural', not wanting to look unnaturally young, now I'd happily go for the Joan Rivers wind tunnel look! Mad innit?

The gigs recently have been fun. This past weekend I was up in Sheffield, doing Toby Foster's lovely Last Laugh gigs. I did a set on Thursday, and MC'd on Friday and Saturday. It was my first time compering up there and a bit daunting cos its Toby's club and I suspect a good many of the audience come along to see him perform. I needn't have worried, they were lovely - especially Friday night's crowd - and I had just the best fun. The bill was a cracker too - my old pal Smug Roberts who I've not worked with in years and who was brilliant, along with two guys who were new to me Lloyd Langford and Kevin Dewsbury both of whom were fantastic!

The weekend before I was back "home" at the Glee Club in Birmingham and had the added treat of being able to hang out with the divine Jason Wood who was doing Jongleurs in Brum and staying in the same hotel. It was fab!

Heeeeeeerrrrrrrrrreeeeeeeee'sssssss Grace!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Saw Grace Jones last night at the Roundhouse in Chalk Farm. One word. Faaaaaaaabulous!!!!!!!!!!!

Oh... My... God!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Feeling pretty sorry for myself and my post-op infection I decided against wallowing in both bed and self pity and took my first shower for over a week and got all dressed up. I got the bus on the corner and it took me to paradise.

Yes folks, I made my first pilgrimage to Westfield today. I'd vowed to wait till the excess of the Xmas and sales crowds were gone, and today they had. It was fabulous, hardly anyone about and of those that were wandering, very few were yer average inner city mall rats! What bliss, there were other people like me in there. People who think its polite to turn your mobile off when you go to the cinema, you know the kind I mean.

Anyway to the mall itself. It's mahoooooosive!!!!!!!!!! Having seen the site at various stages of development over the years I am still amazed at how enormous it is. It's clean, well laid out, and would probably a week to visit every single shop. I only managed a tiny section, but I put that down to being below my natural fitness level at the moment.

All the usual shops are there, Zara, Reiss, H&M, M&S, House of Frasier, etc., etc., but there's also a branch of Cos, and a branch of my favourite Spanish shop Desigual where I got a fabulous pair of Maharishi-inspired velvet trousers for half price in the sale.

There's lots of little coffee stops dotted here and there and the latte I had at Sacred was one of the best coffees I've ever had in the UK.

The designer section - The Village - is still awaiting the arrival of Louis Vuitton which is a pity cos I was dying to see the Stephen Sprouse collection, and one or two other big names but the shops that have opened are refreshingly lacking in pretence.

I thoroughly enjoyed my little visit, and will be back as soon as I'm fit!

Fripperies

It seems like every time I pick up a paper, listen to the radio or turn on the TV there's just doom and gloom everywhere. Now I could write about the horrors in Gaza, or the plight of the jobless in our massive recession, or even the fact that what was one of my routines about opening up sweatshops in this country to supply Primark has become reality in Manchester, but I won't.

Instead I will make a huge admission. Dear readers, I have succumbed. For years I've resisted the lure of the Ugg boot. I resisted when the only people wearing em were Pammy Anderson (on the beach with her bikini!) and the WAGs, I resisted em when they exploded onto the high street. I walked behind girls who'd worn them so much that they were going over on one side of the heel, like the slummiest of slippers (which according to an Aussie mate of mine they actually are, explains why they're crap in the rain!). I'd try em on and think '£200 for a pair of slippers that make yer feet look huge, how mad!' Last year I did weaken and bought a pair of silver rip off ones from Shoe Express for £15 but even then wasn't won over.

So what did those clever Ugg people do? Firstly they made em weather-proof for the UK, then they brought out ones with toe and heel supports, then they made a pair that were just soooooooo cute and finally the British weather joined in the conspiracy and went sub-zero.

So last week I made a trip from my sick bed to Kurt Geiger and shelled out approximately a night's earnings for a fabulous pair of black suede 'Mayfaire' Uggs. My god! I see now why women won't give em up, and why even sane-ish blokes are starting to wear them! Mmmmmmm that sheepskin is soooooo warm on my frozen little tootsies! I'm hooked!

While I'm on a shallow tip, I have to admit that I am enjoying this year's Celebrity Big Brother too. They've got the mix just right this time I reckon. The weirdos aren't so weird that they become annoying, the dullest one was the first one out, all of the Americans are really cool, and the one I thought would be a pain in the ass is - step forward Tina. I do love a delusional freak!

And We're Back!

I've not been able to post a blog for well over a week on here for some bizarre reason, but as if by magic, I'm back on today. How fortuitous!

Happy New Year everybody, hope all your dreams come true x

The Weird Bit...

... in between Christmas and New Year used to be my travelling back to London time, but these days I stay in town for the big day, so now it's sale time.

In previous years the sales meant a new handbag from Harvey Nicks cos it was the only thing that fit me. These days the field is wide open for me! I still bought a bag, a bright pink snakeskin Jill Sander number that was more than half price with my account holder's discount. I also got three gorgeous silver bracelets from Pascal that I love. With the assorted discounts I actually got one for free! I'm still getting a huge buzz from being able to buy a 'bangle' and get it over my hand. It's a wonderful feeling being normal sized!

I managed to resist the clothes in Harvey Nicks, actually there was nothing that I wanted badly enough to be honest. However, All Saints was a different story. A relatively new discovery for me, I am so addicted to their clothes. I'd bought a couple of pieces at full price over the last month or so, but there was so much I wanted but couldn't justify the cost - £90 for a jumper that was full of artfully placed holes for example - but, when they halved the price of everything, suddenly it was all justifiable!

Forty minutes later I left with about a grand's worth of clothes and (yet another) bag that cost me less than half price! I'm in hog heaven here!

I even got some thigh high black patent mock crock boots from Russell & Bromley's sale. I never thought I'd be able to wear boots like this, but after trying on the £450 pair in Brum last week I was determined to find a more affordable pair. And I did! They have a stiletto heel and are very sexy! I can even walk in them.

In other news, I had a brilliant week at The Glee Club and I'm back there on New Year's Eve - I so can't wait! Thanks to people like Alistair and Griffy and Tim, playing there is really like being with family, I love it. The guys I was working with were fantastic too, it makes such a difference.

Happy Christmas!!!!!!!!

To one and all. Here's to a prosperous 2009 for all of us!

You Must Click On This

I saw the funniest thing in the world ever tonight. My comedy chum Dominic Frisby has made his own Downfall spoof and if you're a comedian or have ever known one you gotta watch it... I haven't laughed that hard in a long time!

A Time Of Transition

Regular readers (if such a thing exists!) of my blog will know that recently my writings have been pretty vague, and a lot less frequent. I've not been sure myself why this is. 

Was it cos I've been hooked on Michael Legge's FaceBook blogs which are hilarious and searingly, nastily honest? My own stuff certainly seems tame by comparison. When I have to mention someone I don't like particularly, I tend to stick to the old Northern proverb - When in doubt, say nowt - whereas Leggy calls a c*nt a c*nt and to hell with the consequences! It's very funny and compulsive reading.

But after giving it some thought, the answer is no. It's not Mr Legge's blog that's curbed my writing. It's life. I have been a bit busier than usual, but I have also been going through a period of change emotionally and physically and for some bizarre reason I haven't felt like sharing it with anyone!

Anyone who actually knows me will tell you this is just about the most out of character thing ever for me. Usually there's no shutting me up, especially when something is troubling me.  I've been known to bend the ear of anyone within shouting distance. Hell I'm the woman who managed to make the Samaritans hang up on her! Twice!!!!!!

The reality is that the things in my life that aren't great are the same old things that have always been pretty crap, and they're not gonna change. What needs to change is how I react to it all, of course. 

The last two years have been a brilliant distraction, what with shedding half my body weight, and the first of two major operations to reverse the damage done to my body by being obese. The euphoria of being skinny has carried me through, blinding me to the realities that have always been there.

Before getting skinny, I used a variety of methods to distract myself, all of them negative. Binging on food, drink, drugs, sex and shopping, was a way to numb myself. I think we all have something we use in times of stress.

I certainly believe that I will always have an addictive personality, the shopping addiction came back big time earlier this year and once again I am left clearing the debts I incurred - I just thank God I am able to pay 'em off. The exercise is also another addiction but one that can only do me good, I've watched myself embrace the yoga classes with all the abandon of a coke binge, the difference is this is improving my health rather than ruining it, but the high is the same.

In six days time I fly to Kuala Lumpur to get the bottom half of my body tidied up, two weeks of surgery, stitches and pain followed by a week in Borneo with the orang utans - yay! I have the feeling that this is both the end of one chapter and the beginning of a new, exciting one. 

All my dreams might not come true, but I'm alive and I am moving forward!

A Feast of Bacon!!!!!!!!

Oh man! Thursday I had just the best treat ever!!!!!!! Well, maybe not ever ever in the world, but one of my highlights of this year for sure. I took my Tate membership card and jumped on the bus to Pimlico to see the Francis Bacon show at the Tate Modern. 

Oh my god!!!!! Its an amazing show! I know I'm overusing the exclamation marks - even for me - but I cannot really convey in this medium how brilliant, inspiring, awesome and life affirming his paintings are.

Of course cos its a big show the place was crowded, but I still managed to get a good look at the work and each one was a revelation. Just wonderful.

The show is on for ages, so there's no excuse for missing it. I'll be going back at least once more, and I reckon you will too!

Lest We Forget

This is me now

And this was me backstage at the old Late'n'Live in Edinburgh with my pals Stephen K Amos and lovely Colin about nine years ago

Sometimes getting older is a good thing!

A Bit Slack

I've been a bit slack with the blogs recently haven't I? I'd love to say its because I've been off filming all kinds of wonderful, well-paid, glamourous telly and movies, but that ain't the case. Not sure what I have been doing really, getting on with life I suppose.

Last weekend saw me gigging in Southampton with the fantastic Colin Cole, the wonderful Mat Welcome and the marvellous Mark Walker. The gigs were great fun, the TK Maxx provided me with a fab pair of Evisu jeans for £15 and the weather kinda held till I got back to London.

This week's seen me attend four - yes four- yoga classes! Apart from the fact that I totally love doing it, it's good to try out different teachers, cos they all have their own approach to teaching the positions, and I feel like I only really have the rest of this month to get a good grounding in it all. After that I'll be unable to attend till well into the new year.

Its a month till I fly out to Kuala Lumpur for the rest of my 'repair work' and once I've had a circumferential body lift, butt lift and inner thigh lift, doing a downward dog will be out of the question till I am completely healed, otherwise I might just split in half and spill all over the yoga studio floor!

So I really wanna get a good grounding in, so that when I am able to go back I won't have to take it too slowly.

I also saw Mr Stanek on Monday. He did the work on the top half, and the boobs haven't quite turned out as they should, so we've scheduled another op for early January to fix that. Then I will have perky lil titties like a young 'un!  Gawd this surgery malarkey is a bit addictive eh? None of this work seems exceptional to me. I guess its cos the way my body looks now isn't right due to the extreme weight loss, so it's less about trying to look younger or to be someone new, more about being the best version of me I can be.

I had a fab afternoon on Tuesday with my pal Paul, a great lunch at Satsuma - yummy noodles - and a right old cackle at the daftness of Step Brothers. I rarely go to see comedy films but Will Ferrell and John C Riley had me in stitches with their silliness.

This weekend sees me getting to sleep in my own bed. I'm doing Up The Creek in Greenwich - which I love - and the line-up is blinding!

Have a good 'un people.

Yoga!!!!!!!!!!

Sooooo last Monday I completed my Foundation Course at the Iyengar Yoga Institute, and I have to say that the last five weeks have given me more pleasure than almost anything else ever in my life! How mad is that?

I was having lunch with someone new in my life a few months ago and talked about 'having a go' at Tai Chi, 'having a go' at meditation classes, and how I felt (as I always did) that I was being judged negatively by the others in the class. As I was telling him this I had a bit of an epiphany and said 'This obviously says way more about me, than it does them. I guess I'm not a group person'. This wasn't a new thing, it's how I've felt most of my life, like I don't 'fit in'.

Those thoughts came back to me as I signed up for the five week course and I wondered if I'd actually stick this one out. Well I did, and I totally love being part of a group.

After the first class I walked home with a beaming smile on my face because I wasn't the worst one in the class, in fact I was in the top five I'd say. I rambled on to anyone who would listen about how yoga is the answer to all of life's problems, yada yada yada.  

I realised that for the first time ever I was fit and healthy, three years of exercising every morning has given me a good core strength, and muscles and a good heart rate. For the first time in my adult life I wasn't the red-faced, fat, sweating one, reeking of stale cigarettes, at the back of the room trying to hide. I was at the front of the class and I was doing it!

I'd been told all my life that I have lousy co-ordination and a terrible sense of balance, well guess what? Yoga is about co-ordination and balance and I have both! It's amazing how we just accept the lines we are fed as a child by over-protective or over critical parents. When that criticism stops coming from the original source we carry on doing it to ourselves.  It wasn't that I wasn't 'a group person' or that I was being judged by anyone else. The reality was I was judging myself, and doing a far harsher job of it than a stranger ever could. Because I like myself a whole lot more these days, suddenly I find I 'fit in'.

Last night I went to my first Beginners' class. This was way more hardcore than anything I'd done on the foundation course, and I was the new girl in the group again, but as I found myself standing on my shoulders with my feet over and flat on the floor behind my head, I felt a sense of pride I've never felt before. Who woulda thought that a nearly-50, former 20 stone, menopausal woman who's never been good at any sport in her life would be achieving this?

Life is good.

The Darkest Knight...

I saw the new Batman movie yesterday - sadly not at an IMAX, just my local multiplex - and was really blown away by it. I'm not usually one to buy into hype, but this movie lives up to it.

The fact that Heath Ledger is no longer with us really does add to the immense power of his portrayal as The Joker, tho it's not something I'd recommend for any aspiring actors out there! You can really see the despair and bleakness in him - or is that just me succumbing to the benefits of 20/20 hindsight?

Whatever it is, he's terrific as are the rest of the cast - including one of my comedy chums Tommy Campbell who's not exactly got a starring role but he's there and fabulous! I did wonder what was up with Maggie Gyllenhall's eyes tho, some of the shots she looks stunning, others she looks like her face is melting! Very odd.

Anyway enough with the Barry Norman impressions, this weekend I am off to one of my favourite places in the whole wide world, Brighton. Its my annual weekend at the Komedia and I am extra excited cos I have a load of new jokes to do!!!!!! How wonderful is that?????

Fingers crossed the sun makes a couple of appearances, but even if it doesn't, I still love the place, the shops, the sea, the people...all wonderful.

Come and say hi!

Monkey Olympics

http://news.bbc.co.uk/sport1/hi/olympics/monkey/7521287.stm

Click on my title or c&p the link above to see the faaaaaaaaabulous BBC Olympic idents done by Jamie Hewlett and Damon Albarn. I'm not a huge fan of watching sport on telly but these will keep me glued all summer!

Monkey!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

WOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I'm still blown away by what I saw yesterday. I paid seventy-five quid for a ticket to see Monkey Journey To The West at The Royal Opera House in Covent Garden.

When I bought the ticket I thought it was an extortionate amount of money, but actually its less than my old weekly fag bill, so there you go, not obscene at all. And I have to say, it was the worth every single penny.

The Opera House itself is amazing, it was my first time in there and I loved the look and feel of the place. The sound/acoustics were phenomenal, the best I've ever heard. Based on those two things alone I'd go back there again, blimey I might end up being an opera buff!

Now to the show. There's scarcely enough superlatives to praise it with! Written by lovely Damon Albarn, the visuals by Jamie Hewlett, and directed by some bloke called Chen Shi-Zheng who is a renowned director aparently (I ain't that cultured!). It was just incredible from start to finish.

You can hear Blur-isms in the music, yet it feels very Chinese at the same time. I remember seeing The South Bank Show special on it last year and Damon talking about how he'd had to invent a brand new instrument to make the sounds he felt it needed - it paid off, I'd listen to this stuff over and over again!

A fabulous actor/acrobat called Li Bo plays Monkey and he is brilliant. He has all the primate manerisms without it being a cartoon, and a cracking sense of humour. The entire cast - and its a huge one, which is probably why the tickets ain't a fiver - are just wonderful. It lasts two hours without an interval and the time flew by! Before I knew it the lights were coming up and it was all over. I wanted to stay and watch it all again.

There really is everything in this show/opera. If you ever get a chance to go and see it, do.

Other than that, this week has been a time of consolidation. Working out how to get my mobile broadband installed on the new laptop (that took two days), mundane domestic stuff, and generally gathering my thoughts and energies. Its been good.

I'm off to Edinburgh Jongleurs later today, and taking the train rather than flying (even though the flights are given to us) cos I've worked out it's actually quicker door to door for me, plus I got two first class tickets for the same price as a plane ticket, and I don't have that EasyJet scrum to face at Luton.

Have a great weekend folks, and if you are going to see Monkey, enjoy!

Interesting Times...

So this week has been pretty hectic in its own way. After the 'not-knowingness' of last weekend - I ended up not gigging incidentally - I've spent the rest of the time catching up on having fun really.

Last Sunday my mate and I headed off to the Rise Festival at Finsbury Park to see Jimmy Cliff. We got there just in time to see the Dub Pistols and the gorgeously-dishevelled Terry Hall doing Gangsters... it was awesome! I still knew every word too!

CSS were great fun too, tho I'd rather see them in a dark sweaty club, and finally it was time for Mr Cliff. He went onstage about 30 minutes later than billed, but I doubt anyone - least of all him! - thought that was gonna be a huge problem. Sadly it was, as 20 minutes into his set and long before he'd done The Harder They Come or Many Rivers To Cross, the sound was cut! At first everyone kinda hung around thinking it was a technical thing, but nope, it was the council! There was an 8.30 curfew! Shame nobody told Jimmy, he coulda done the greatest hits and not bothered doing Rivers of Babylon and Wild World! Still it was a good day out.

Monday was a big old first for me. I went and did my first ever Yoga class! It was a free taster session at the Iyengar Institute and I had no idea what to expect. I was so glad I went cos, boy! I loved it!!!!! For the first time in my life, I wasn't the fat, sweaty outsider at the back who couldn't do the same moves as everyone else. I was there in the middle of it all and I was doing some of the moves better than some of the other people!!!!!

I've never really been a 'group' person, but I suspect it was cos I always stood out for what I perceived as being the wrong reasons, but I tell ya, this felt amazing. Roll on the foundation course which starts next Monday.

Tuesday saw me camping it up along with a host of other menopausal West London women at the half price screening of Mamma Mia. At first it was so cringe-worthy, the way the songs were crow-barred in, but it just kinda wins you over to the point where even Pierce Brosnan's singing is just about bearable! Meryl Streep looks like she's having soooooooo much fun in it! The screening was followed by coffee-flavoured cocktails at the Electric on Portobello, and by the time I got home I was pretty tipsy. To the point where I fell into bed without even taking my make-up off. Always the sign of a good night out.

On Wednesday I met up with my great friend Paul who's been living in Italy for the last 8 months. We went along to a private view at Tate Britain of British Oriental paintings, called The Lure of the East. To be honest we spent more time catching up than we did looking at the art but what I saw I liked.

Thursday I spent the whole day with Paul, we had lots of catching up to do! We started with lunch in a fabulous Soho noodle bar, then it was a movie at the Curzon - Savage Grace - about the idle rich indulging in incest (as you do). Needless to say it was a tad bleak! Julianne Moore was excellent tho, and there was a very cute dark haired boy in it for about 20 minutes too. We wandered around the West End afterwards - even taking in a bit of shopping. I'm now the proud owner of a pair of fabulous Evisu jeans, which I've wanted for years but always been too big to get into! They look hot!

I bumped into a few comedy chums too, the lovely Johnny Candon who I haven't seen since he moved back to Dublin before Xmas, the gorgeous Rob Rouse all leathered up on his motorbike. He looked like a young David Essex in Silver Dream Racer, and last and certainly not least, Hattie Hayridge who I've not seen since Edinburgh last year. She was looking fierce and on her way to the Groucho and invited Paul and I to join her, so we did.

Thursday night in there is obviously the 'night of the really pissed people' and it was hilarious watching people in various states of drunken distress. I even saw a really old mate - Phil Dirtbox - who I've not seen for at least a decade! He hasn't changed a bit bless him.

So today its back to really working, and I've got a fabulous weekend at Bow Jongleurs which should be a lot of fun.

Whatever you're up to folks, enjoy x

Dirty Old Woman!!!!!!!!!!!

Is what I felt like yesterday afternoon.

After my visit to White Cube I wandered up to Abercrombie & Fitch in Burlington Gardens to get a pair of jeans, or at least check out the stock. I've not been in the London shop before, but did rather enjoy my visit to the New York one in January where I got my first ever pair of size 2 jeans!

Sadly the British prices are bordering on the obscene compared with the relative cheapness of the US ones, but even if you don't buy anything it's worth a visit. It's an assault on the senses, you walk in and it's dark, the music is loud and the whole place is overrun with the most beautiful young men and women I have ever seen, and that's NOT even counting the half nekkid young buck on the door! I couldn't even look at him it felt soooooo wrong!

As a Buddhist I believe in reincarnation and while I have no real say in what I come back as (other than making sure I'm a pretty decent person in this life that is), if I have anything to do with it I will come back as the person who audtions the applicants for jobs in these shops. The girls were all really pretty, with tight bodies and smooth skin the like of which no amount of plastic surgery will give anyone over 21, and while I can appreciate them, it was the boys that made me feel a bit wrong!

My god they were gorgeous! There were a couple of dark haired ones, that stirred up feelings in me that I thought were long gone! The boy who served me on the till was breathtakingly beautiful, like a work of art, I hope I didn't drool too much!

Oh yeah the clothes, I nearly forgot. Well most of it is pretty basic jeans, sweatshirts, shorts, trackie bottoms etc, but the cuts are very sexy. I got a pair of distressed flared jeans that give me the pertest butt I've ever had! Well worth the wedge!

From there I went to the Marc Jacobs shop in Mount Street - boy have I come a loooooong way from Primark!!!!! There was a sale on but unfortunately not enough of a sale for me to be able to splurge too much. I did get a couple of fab t-shirts tho and a pair of Marc Jacobs flip flops to wear when we finally get some proper sunshine here.

F**king Hell!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Nope not gratuitous swearing by me, but the title of the most amazing art show I've seen in a looooooong time!

Those of you that are interested in art will recall the warehouse fire at MOMART a couple of years back. It destroyed, amongst many other things, Tracy Emin's tent "Everyone I Have Ever Slept With 1963-1995". It also destroyed Jake and Dinos Chapman's "Hell", an installation depicting Nazi soldiers committing various horrific acts of depravity using tiny little models. I saw it at the Saatchi Gallery when it was in County Hall and remember feeling quite moved by it.

Anyway it was burned to buggery so the boys made a new one and called it Fucking Hell. I saw it yesterday at the White Cube in Mayfair and my god, it really blew me away. There are nine display cases each one filled with scenes of war and inhumanity, each one with the capacity to induce a feeling of nausea in the viewer at the atrocities within.

Blimey that sounded a bit pretentious didn't it? But it really did move me, and 24 hours later I am still thinking about it. We are all aware of what the Nazis did in WW2, we've seen Schindler's List, some of us have been to the Imperial War Museum and seen their displays, we've read books etc etc, but for me at least, it always seemed a bit 'remote'. Yes it was perhaps one of the blackest periods of humanity, but nothing I have seen or read about WW2 has really brought home to me just how relentless the horror was until I saw this yesterday. I think the show ends tomorrow, but if you can get along do, if not keep an eye out for future exhibitions.

In addition to that, they have a sister show called "If Hitler Had Been A Hippy How Happy Would We Be". The brothers anonymously bought 13 of Hitler's watercolours and then painted over them. It comes as no surprise that Hitler wasn't the most creative of artists, they're all quite mundane, but I love what they've done with them. There's rainbows and stars over the top and it looks like a child has gotten hold of them, it kinda gives a sense of hope from the darkest of sources.

Lucha Libre!!!!!!!!

Soooooo last night I rounded off my fabulous weekend by going to the Roundhouse in Chalk Farm to see Lucha Libre London.

Lucha Libre literally means Free Fight, but you might know it as Mexican masked wrestling. It's totally cartoon, pretty much fake as f**k, and pure pantomime. It was brilliant!

Me and me mate had ringside seats which were perfect and the audience were one of the most mixed bunch of people I've seen under one roof ever! There were tattooed rockabilly kids, very middle class Dads and their kids, loads of loved-up trendy couples and even Robert Elms - who probably invented this, as he seems to have invented everything else including Sade and 'Hard Times'!

The characters were fantastic, the first bout was between two tag teams of "minis' aka little people. It was hilarious, then we got the taller ones for bouts that seemed slightly less choreographed, and the whole night culminated with two teams of three flinging each other all over the ring and the auditorium!!!!!! My favourite one was Cassandro - the tranny wrestler!!!!!! Her signature move is to kiss her opponents into submission and it worked cos her team won!

Fueled by a couple of frozen margaritas, me and my mate got right into it, it was a very cathartic night out, a great chance to let off steam. Perfect.

The weekend's gigs were really good fun, I was on with a fantastic line-up including for the first time sharing the stage with the wonderful Sarah Millican. She's doing her first full length Edinburgh show this summer, and based on what I saw her do this weekend it's definitely one of my ones to watch! The other two turns were the daft Steve Best and even dafter Dave Johns both of whom lit up the stage. A cracking time was had by all.