Rosiegate

I knew this would happen. I knew that it would just interfere with my life and stop me from getting things done. The i-phone has already jumped to the top of my importance list above my own health and safety, Layla and the cats. Its dangerous. It arrived in a little box yesterday, delivered by a little woman who arrived in a little van. As they say, all good things come in little packages. From little woman, in little vans. That saying is massively untrue. I'd like a big car. A big car wouldn't fit in a small box. Unless of course a wizard put it there. Or a giant, and the box was only little in the giant's perspective. For the first twenty minutes my i-phone just sat there, charging, like a useless slab of technology. Then I poured water on it and fed it after midnight and lots of tiny angry i-phones grew from it and started causing havoc all over New York. That's not true, and instead once charged it opened up a whole world of i-phone applications and funny swoosh noises when emails get sent. Above all the other amazing technology that is the bit I like most. I love swoosh noises and the fact that I cause on when sending an email makes me very happy. More swoosh noises in general please. I'd like a swoosh noise everytime I open a door, point at something and arrive anywhere. I also like the word swoosh due to its onomatopoeic ways. Swoosh sounds like swooshing. Unlike 'abattoir' which sounds nothing like pigs screaming.


Generally the i-phone was a nice thing that happened in a whole day of nice things. I did not expect nice things yesterday because the day started with very bad things. Very very bad things. Things so bad that they were worse than walking out of the shower to find my cat, Rosie, sitting on my laptop, cleaning herself after having smeared cat shit all over it. Oh no wait that is exactly how bad it was, because that is exactly what the furry shitball did. To say I don't love my cats would be wrong, but there are times I wish it was ok to drop kick them. I cant imagine many computers were designed to get covered in cat shit. I don't think Steve Jobs sat there saying 'What Apple really need is a computer that is not only user friendly, innovative and stylish, but is defensive against all forms of mammal feces.' Luckily, 6 anti-sceptic wipes, some flash, and such disgust at how gross it was I nearly went to a church to get my soul cleansed, the computer was ok. Rosie did not seem to give a shit - the wrong term clearly - and was more annoyed I'd shooed her off the warm keyboard. As revenge she jumped on top of some bills and letters and covered them in poo as well. Now I've always wanted to do that to bills really, but it the reality of it was not good. Finally I made her go outside and she cleaned herself. Thinking the crisis was over, Rosie then jumped back into the house mieowing loudly. She mieowed and mieowed and then coughed and a whole live bee flew out of her mouth. Rosie chased it all over the living room knocking things everywhere until she twatted it in the face and ate it. This entire scenario was watched by my other cat Bella who was sitting on the sofa and giving me a look as though to say 'Yes she is mental. Why you took her in from the cat home we don't know, all the other cats there thought she was a bit special.'


Following catmania I went to see The Compass, the newly refurbished Fat Tuesday venue, where we shall be returning to next week. I was a bit scared that they were going to gut the entire place and fill it with jelly or sharks or other things unsuitable for a comedy venue but actually they have done an amazing job. The place looks very very classy and the upstairs room now has loads of great bonuses for our gig such as brand new sound system and a special place to put an i-pod or a shiny new i-phone which made T-Phone (for that is his name now) very happy. They also have a menu of fancy things which they state are all organic and local and fair trade and all the other trendy things food can be. Stuff like beef from cows that have been strangled that afternoon after a life of mooing by pool in Beverly Hills and raspberries that were hunted and shot at using blackberry friendly gunshot etc. The dessert menu has something on it called a 'Peanut Butter Pie with Ice Cream'. I need to have one of those but fear it could cause me severe damage, and not just because my friend Adam Brace once said I 'look like someone who should have a nut allergy'.


Then last night me and Mat finally clocked Resident Evil 5. I'm pleased about this as it may finally mean I can stop dreaming about imminent zombie attacks. The final bit in the game involves shooting a big villain in the face with a rocket launcher. As far as I'm concerned all games should end like that. Even board games. Monopoly would be great if I sent that little dog flying with an Rpg Rocket or by placing a proximity mine on Mayfair.


Twitter Comedy Mania continues to grow. I had an interview with a journalist from the Canada Sun last night which was a lot of fun. We had a very good chat but I did have to restrain myself from saying 'aboot' a lot or asking about moose. I love moose. They are the most ridiculous looking animals in the world, with over sized snozzles like a Steffi Graf of the wild. I remember a Canadian friend once telling me that where she was from they called them 'Swamp Donkeys'. I like this term but again moose wins on sheer onomatopoeia. Say 'mooooooose' really loudly and it sounds like you might be a large animal. Say 'swamp donkey' loudly and the trampiest idiot in the pub will punch you.