7.30.2008
Great Wednesday
So....W&G kick off today. I would say "Good Luck" but luck is pure bollocks. Or is it?
If all the shows that W&G ever do in their entire life are placed back to back, there might, by pure chance, be a few good shows in a row. Of course, there will be a few consecutive bad shows in the sequence too. Which means that, were you free to choose which run of shows to have at the Fringe, you would obviously go for the run with the most good shows.
Of course, you can't choose. The sequence starts and ends where it starts and ends. And as much as we might wish it, there is no way to mystically make the Fringe run consist of W&G's best ever 23 shows.
Holy Shit! 23?
Twenty Three?
The magic number!!!
Obviously, the sketches are great. And the performances are great. But now we have 23 on our side...
Have fun W&G :)
Labels: 23, Edinburgh, Fringe, Greg, Sketch, Will, WillandGreg
grey wednesdays
It’s the first show today – another preview essentially. And if that sentence is the funniest thing i can muster, then god help us.
7.29.2008
Valhalla for idiots.
So. I ‘m on my way back from a birthday with the other half and we stop in a shop near the tube station so she can buy bits – we both have had a couple of drinks, but we are not pissed. I notice a magazine at my eye level with a dvd on the cover – the title of which makes me laugh. So, as we are leaving the shop I casually turn to my missis and, quite close to her ear say “I think I might buy a copy of moist teens”. In a bowel crumpling micro second I realise that it isn’t my girl but a complete stranger. To the stranger’s credit – her answer was. “Why not”.
I've had to move to Edinburgh for a month to get over it.
I've had to move to Edinburgh for a month to get over it.
7.24.2008
Grump
A couple of Goths. An old guy and his wife. A South African. A table of media wankers. A fat guy. Students. Office workers.
cannot be liked by folks who like 
And it's not because Will and Greg are special. Obviously, they are. But in this respect they are not. Loads of funny people are laughed at by totally different people in lots of sweaty basement rooms.
And your point Snidey Boy? Fuck knows. I just get angry. Even when things go great. Edinburgh is going to be great.
And as for "Nae Fuss"... remember what Bad Religion say...
there’s space for a paper airplane race in the eye of a hurricane.
They all laughed at Will and Greg. Often in unison. How can this be?
In the world of telly and radio, this is regarded as an impossibility. It can't happen.
cannot be liked by folks who like They won't allow it. All comedy must conform to a demographic. And all demographics are based on age. 16 to 24. 21 to 32. 12 to 18. No one seems to question it. But surely it doesn't make sense. I hate every other 36 year old on the planet. They make me sick. Pricks. But I'm not allowed to choose.
And yet, in a sweaty basement room, a bunch of totally different people laughed at the same jokes.
And it's not because Will and Greg are special. Obviously, they are. But in this respect they are not. Loads of funny people are laughed at by totally different people in lots of sweaty basement rooms.
And your point Snidey Boy? Fuck knows. I just get angry. Even when things go great. Edinburgh is going to be great.
And as for "Nae Fuss"... remember what Bad Religion say...
there’s space for a paper airplane race in the eye of a hurricane.
It’s nice to meet humans
We had a first preview proper at the stand comedy club in Edinburgh last night. A brilliant experience. It’s just awesome hearing people laughing especially when you have been in the bubble of tv production for so long.
All the girls came – and Martins Grady. Rab wis there to and so was snide – peering at us form the back - looking every inch the proud father. The man is a brilliant director. Nae fuss.
Back to London for bit and then back up for Monday – and then a month of shows. This is just information. Information that makes me feel awfi nervous.
All the girls came – and Martins Grady. Rab wis there to and so was snide – peering at us form the back - looking every inch the proud father. The man is a brilliant director. Nae fuss.
Back to London for bit and then back up for Monday – and then a month of shows. This is just information. Information that makes me feel awfi nervous.
7.21.2008
2 in the morning
We had a day of title filming yesterday – a lot of fun but involved a lot of jumping up and down. That plus a stint at the doublet and my legs are very sore. Aaaaand the comedy unit mostly employs maniacs. Utter maniacs – who i like very much.
But thats it over with now and thats a sad thing. Now to find snide and make a stage show
But thats it over with now and thats a sad thing. Now to find snide and make a stage show
7.17.2008
Yes Blog
Will's not lying, he and Greg and lots of other people are filming - in fact there's only a day and a half to go. It's always a bit weird when you've written a sketch and turn up on set to see people making it, as you're half expecting the whole crew to go eerily quiet with a few whispers of 'He's here' as you wander to your silver throne atop a small staircase at the end of a purple carpet. But the reality is quite different. It consists mainly of no-one knowing or caring who you are, being in the way, apologising for being in the way, and as the sketch is performed again, and again, and again, wishing you'd taken a little longer over certain lines and trying to find a place to put your chewing gum.
In an attempt to be more useful on filming day, I dressed as a Nazi and got myself into a sketch where I had to shout at people in a language I don't speak, using acting skills I don't have, wearing hair I can't grow myself. It was as fun and terrifying as it sounds. Like holding a snake.
In an attempt to be more useful on filming day, I dressed as a Nazi and got myself into a sketch where I had to shout at people in a language I don't speak, using acting skills I don't have, wearing hair I can't grow myself. It was as fun and terrifying as it sounds. Like holding a snake.
7.11.2008
Wouldn't it be good
There is a room being built in a warehouse in Scotland to put Nazis in. It’s for a sketch and it’s amazing. However, I am now required to learn how to play “The Riddle” by Nik Kershaw. Which just goes to show – nothing comes for free.
Typical Nazis, always up to something
7.08.2008
Arsehole is as Arsehole does
You know the saying about thinking you are insane means you are not insane? Well it's different being an arsehole.
Just because you know you are being an arsehole does not mean that you are not an arsehole.
Say you are in an Antenatal class. Everyone is nervous, an understandable state. First baby. Room full of strangers. To break the ice, the midwife smiles round the circle, inviting each dry-throated participant to say their name and how long they have left before their big day of days. A middle class couple first up, not long to go now. Then a hairdresser who is loud when she is nervous. A young couple who are beyond excited.
Then the midwife kindly gestures at the next expectant expectant. She is only maybe seventeen. She doesn't smile, not now, not for the ninety minutes of the class. Every time she re-slides her hairband onto her hair she looks younger than before. She only takes part twice, each time a raised hand. Once to the question "Who hates the way they look pregnant?" and once to "Who is scared about the birth?" The hairband and the hands, those are the only times she moves, other than to turn and look at her mother. Her mother is a cheerier sort. On another day she could be in this class with her own bump. But today she is supporting her teenage daughter. And when she is asked to introduce herself she says "I am so-and-so's mother. I'm not pregnant"
And as the room smiles, the arsehole pipes up "It's early doors yet"
Arsehole.
Yes indeed. Knowing you are an arsehole is no defense to being an arsehole.
Now I will close my eyes and when I open them again....Filming will be over.
Just because you know you are being an arsehole does not mean that you are not an arsehole.
Say you are in an Antenatal class. Everyone is nervous, an understandable state. First baby. Room full of strangers. To break the ice, the midwife smiles round the circle, inviting each dry-throated participant to say their name and how long they have left before their big day of days. A middle class couple first up, not long to go now. Then a hairdresser who is loud when she is nervous. A young couple who are beyond excited.
Then the midwife kindly gestures at the next expectant expectant. She is only maybe seventeen. She doesn't smile, not now, not for the ninety minutes of the class. Every time she re-slides her hairband onto her hair she looks younger than before. She only takes part twice, each time a raised hand. Once to the question "Who hates the way they look pregnant?" and once to "Who is scared about the birth?" The hairband and the hands, those are the only times she moves, other than to turn and look at her mother. Her mother is a cheerier sort. On another day she could be in this class with her own bump. But today she is supporting her teenage daughter. And when she is asked to introduce herself she says "I am so-and-so's mother. I'm not pregnant"
And as the room smiles, the arsehole pipes up "It's early doors yet"
Arsehole.
Yes indeed. Knowing you are an arsehole is no defense to being an arsehole.
Now I will close my eyes and when I open them again....Filming will be over.
7.07.2008
All done bar the easy stuff
That's the script pretty much finished off now, and with it the only real difficult part of the whole programme making process. The sketches are chosen, the rewrites are done and it's a nice feeling that from now on in its all plain sailing. I was so pleased when I finished today that I almost whooped, but that's no way to behave. The only minor things left to do are for Will and Greg to learn some words, go to some places, wear some things and say some things. And then the whole thing's got to look great and be funny enough to make everyone that sees it laugh like ticklish pillowmakers. How hard can that be?
7.02.2008
And so it begins.
It’s started. We are making the damm thing. Although yesterday it hadn’t really sunk in - even though we met all the people who create what goes on screen and started to hear them using words, situations and character names that you wrote.
I don’t think I ever believed they would get this far. I always thought some low rent tv presenter with tired eyes and good teeth was going to jump out the cupboard at some point and say . "you twats - of course it’s not happening!" hahahahaha
Suddenly this morning while buying a box of country crisp i got it. And went a bit grey. Nothing says opportunity of a life time like the Tescos in Maryhill.
(And trying on a matador costume.)
7.01.2008
I am best at this
I created this post.
Well, obviously I needed a computer to type it up and send it from. I didn't make that myself... but apart from that, I definitely created this post.
Then again, there's the guys and gals who invented and developed html and all that background coding stuff. Without them, mutton-fisted throwbacks like me couldn't guide folks toward spectacular works of art like this.
Okay, but all those people aside, I created this post.
But what about the old school geeks that invented the net in the first place? Or on a more basic level, the never-ending progress in the manufacture of plastics, electronics, LCD technology, lasers and rubber that facilitate this amazing connection to other peoples ideas?
And the electricity required. And the servers. And the phone lines. And the people who help the people who help keep all that running?
Of course, we could go mental and examine the endless development of the written word. Or simply acknowledge all those wordsmiths, those writers of jokes and novels and poems and screenplays and editorials, that make me weep in envy. They must have affected this post somehow.
And how relevant is the fact that while writing this I am listening to this rather than this or maybe this?
Obviously, the solipsistic hubris that prompted this post should get a mention.
And the lovely Will and Greg and Grady for well...sniff....always being there for me man!
Actually, all things considered, it looks like I had very little to do with the creation of this post.
Well, obviously I needed a computer to type it up and send it from. I didn't make that myself... but apart from that, I definitely created this post.
Then again, there's the guys and gals who invented and developed html and all that background coding stuff. Without them, mutton-fisted throwbacks like me couldn't guide folks toward spectacular works of art like this.
Okay, but all those people aside, I created this post.
But what about the old school geeks that invented the net in the first place? Or on a more basic level, the never-ending progress in the manufacture of plastics, electronics, LCD technology, lasers and rubber that facilitate this amazing connection to other peoples ideas?
And the electricity required. And the servers. And the phone lines. And the people who help the people who help keep all that running?
Of course, we could go mental and examine the endless development of the written word. Or simply acknowledge all those wordsmiths, those writers of jokes and novels and poems and screenplays and editorials, that make me weep in envy. They must have affected this post somehow.
And how relevant is the fact that while writing this I am listening to this rather than this or maybe this?
Obviously, the solipsistic hubris that prompted this post should get a mention.
And the lovely Will and Greg and Grady for well...sniff....always being there for me man!
Actually, all things considered, it looks like I had very little to do with the creation of this post.
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