Spotted

I have a huge spot on my nose. Its one of those large bright red ones that were I standing by a beach, boats would think it were a port beacon and crash into the shore, or if I moseyed down a runway, would cause planes to miss the landing strip by a mile. Luckily I wouldn't do either of these things. Especially not mosey down a runway. Who does that? Well those dudes with the table tennis rackets, but no one else. And even then, I never see them get to play table tennis so I'm sure they only do it once or twice before realising its proper dangerous and stop. This spot is so very wrong. I'm partly scared it will grow into another nose, or worse, another head. I still don't understand why I continue to get spots. I am less than a year away from being 30. Do 30 year olds still get spots? No. And this furthers my belief that I stopped growing at 15 and now am constantly trapped in a teenager's body. Hence height, spots and occasional crackling of voice. The latter only happens after I've been drinking or talking into a tannoy so it doesn't really count.


Certain factors are meant to cause spots, primarily diet, but as I don't diet, that can't be it. What seems to be the cause is any form of stress or big gig occasion. That's right, everytime I really really could do without a big spot on my face, a big spot on my face appears. Its like a facial rebellion against me ever doing anything of note. Not that any of these things are of note, but I suspect so far this nasal volcano is a mere warning incase I ever do the Apollo or something like that whereby my entire head will become a poppable pus filled vessel of disgust. Sorry, this blog has become rather graphic, and I apologise. I just don't like waking up and wondering why Rudolph is looking back at me in the mirror. Still perhaps I should find the silver lining. Should there be a snowstorm, I can guide people out. Should I decide on a career as a clown, I won't need a red nose. I won't decide on a career as a clown. I'm not evil enough. Should I ever get measles again, I've given them a head start. Actually that last one really doesn't seem positive at all.


My large nose spot accompanied me and Layla to Chris Cox's show last night at the Pleasance. I have previously promoted it on this blog before but hadn't actually had a chance to see it myself till last night, and let me tell you people, its really bloody good. He does lots of clever things that some of which (using previous Derren Brown viewing experience) I could grasp a sort of guess at, but then he would do something else with it that would baffle my brainbox. He is a tricksy one and whilst I thought his show was ace, I will probably never ever trust him again. That's what happens. I did however nearly ruin one of his tricks by shouting out the second thing in my brain rather than the first and consequently the first one came up. I blame my brain for this as it generally leaps between about 6 things at once in such quick succession I'm not sure which one is which. I have to admit that I am also really proud of this, and wonder if were he ever to turn evil that I would be able to battle him in a mind war. Then again, chances are, he made this spot happen as revenge. If that's the case, I bow down to his might and shall leave his mind be. Don't mind me Cox, don't mind me. Arf.

Anyway, his show is at the Pleasance in Islington till Saturday so go along. Unless you live miles away. But he'll know that so its ok, and that's why he's touring the UK next week:

CHRIS COX - MIND OVER PATTER


Tonight, I'm going to back to Northampton. Don't all get jealous at once.