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February 04, 2005
Wynsday the 1st of Snapdragon
Hello diary. I am most hungover today, and don’t feel like writing in you at all, but it’s either this or something equally painful, so I choose this – because at least it may serve as a reminder to myself that I don’t ever want to feel like this again. HEAR THAT FUTURE SAMMY? NEVER AGAIN!
Future Sammy: Shut up fuckwit, I’m having fun, and have forgotten that you even exist. More vodka, more beer, more joints, more spending of money, ahahahaha! I am the greediest man alive! And you, you are nothing but a lousy aftershock. It is YOU who must be scrubbed out of the equation. I am going to drink FOREVER, and then I’ll never have to listen to your whining ways again, you soft brained weak kneed water drinking parsley eater!
Crap. Oh well. There’s just no arguing with some versions of oneself.
Future Sammy: Too fucking right, ace. Who do you think you are?
I went to lunch with Kent and comic Justin Hamilton just now, and scored a free beef nachos (because they ordered filthy vegetarian and the kitchen got it wrong). It was very pleasant. We decided that good food is better than most other ‘good’ things, though I still think having a secret pink mouse with wings that is clever and can spy on people is pretty good – though of course I didn’t tell them that! Ah, Squeakfeather, how I love you and your flitting ways.
I also had a smoked salmon salad, which unfortunately I had to pay for because they got it right, although the avocado tasted kind of like really fucking awful old avocado. The waitresses were hot though, especially this really hot one.
Justin is the MC for the opening of our new comedy room at the Annandale Hotel. Kent and I are very excited about that one, as it’s a good room physically, and a great location, and has a good reputation. It has the potential to rock in a major way, we just have to get the people in. It won’t be a problem on the opening night as there is a lot of buzz and Wil Anderson is the feature, bless his cotton socks, but on the nights following ... well, we’ll see.
What is ‘buzz’? And why do people always seem to bless cotton socks, and not other items of clothing? Vampires don’t like things that have been blessed, I wonder if you could hurt one by putting blessed cotton socks on them?
Lost Scene from Dracula
Van Helsing: Shh! Here we are in the vampire’s tomb! Be very quiet now Watson!
Sidekick: I didn’t say anything. You’re the one saying things.
Van Helsing: Ah! Here be the beast’s coffin! Let’s lift the lid – and there he lies sleeping! Watson, hand me the cotton socks.
Sidekick: Here. But how are you going to use them against a vampire?
Van Helsing: Elementary my dear Watson. We just slide them onto his cold vampiric feet ... there. Now hear me oh Lord, our Saviour in Heaven – bless his cotton socks!
Lord: Okay. Blammo!
Dracula: Eeeeeeeek! Eeeeeeeeek! My feet, my feet!
Van Helsing: Take that you bloodsucking devil!
Dracula: Fuck this hurts! There are better ways to do this you know.
Van Helsing: At my age you have to mix it up a bit.
Last night at the Friend in Hand was good. Healthy crowd, a bit rowdy but good spirited – it was this girl’s birthday and she was sitting down the front with all her mates, some of whom have been before and are good value. I love that little room. Not as much as you Squeakfeather, don’t worry your mousey little heart. Here is a poem for you, to commemorate how good you are.
Squeakfeather’s Escapade
Sneaky sneaky sneaky sneaky
Peeky peeky peeky peeky
Hearing someone speaking, saying
‘Let’s put Sam’s hand in warm water while he’s sleeping’.
Sneaky sneaky, back to Sam
Let him know the evil scam!
Sam thinks of how to foil the plot
You won’t get away with this free, Scott!
Goes to sleep in Ren and Stimpy boxers
With hands protected by shoe boxes!
Okay, so ‘boxers’ and ‘boxes’ doesn’t really rhyme, and are kind of the same word, but seeing as how no one’s reading this diary but me, what do I fucking care?
Kent and I did and interview for the opening of The Annandale and The Sandringham with The Courier, which is a locally distributed newspaper. It was fun, and now that its out people have said it was a good article – but we haven’t been able to find it! I am most curious, especially because the interviewer went with a ‘comics talking about there being no sex in comedy’ angle, so I want to see what variety of idiot I sound like. Anyway, it’s a lie, as one of my friends quickly pointed out. And then I fucked her.
Speaking of sex, I’m playing this computer game called Fable at the moment, in which you can choose to be good or evil, and in which the statistics are very in depth, including things like
How many beers consumed
How many wasps killed
How many people fallen in love with you
How many people you have married
How many times had sex
My character, De Faulte, has gone down a very dark road. He’s always murdering innocent bystanders, punching children, stepping on daisies etc. I think the fact that he’s 54, is married, and has never had sex might have something to do with this aggression. He keeps trying to have sex with his wife, taking off his armour, giving her chocolates, using the ‘flirt’ command, using the ‘follow’ command to lead her to a bed, but to no avail. It’s extremely frustrating, and I really feel for him. If I was 54 and hadn’t had sex, I might go a bit mental too. I wonder if it’s him though – is he insecure? I mean he goes around on amazing quests all the time, taking on monsters and waving his huge axe around – is he compensating for something? Perhaps at heart he’s just a scared little boy, still reliving that awful night years ago when a bandit burned down his village and killed his family. That’s not the kind of shit you easily forget.
I find the ‘good choice’ and ‘evil choice’ part of the game to be a bit restrictive. For example, after a beating a Bandit King, you can choose to kill him or display mercy – an obvious good or evil choice, for which you are given good and evil points accordingly. What I did, however, was kill ALL the bandits in his camp, take his treasure and then let him live – the idea being to leave him as the King of Nothing, the ruler of an empty, deserted camp, forever tormented by memories of his glory days, before I came along and took everything he held dear – but because I let him live, I was awarded ‘good’ points! Bah! What rubbish. Really, evil is much more complicated, and it should pay to be creative.
Hmm. I might go play that now. Or maybe watch Lilo and Stitch again. Ah, Lilo and Stitch. You know once, a woman in a pub told me I looked like Lilo! I found that very odd, as Lilo is a six year old Hawaiian girl in a Disney cartoon, and I am a 25 year anglo saxon male in the real world, so I don’t really know where the similarity is. Maybe the fact that we both have a strange alien familiar. Ah, Squeakfeather. Maybe the woman was just trying to use the flirt command on me. It didn’t work, so I hope she didn’t go out and punch any children.
Yes. Lilo and Stitch. Off to watch it now.
Posted by Sam Bowring at February 4, 2005 02:56 PM