Bad Arm

I've just recieved a text message from a friend, a fellow comedian on his way to a gig in Swansea. The message reads 'I have fucked my arm by falling over in Reading Station'. My immediate concern propelled me to write back 'Are you ok? Did you make it to the gig?'

'At gig, but Ow!' came the reply

Still, at least he will have something interesting to talk about when taking the stage. The old comedic cliché of "something funny happened to me on the way to the gig" if always avoided for fear of being "hack", was surely now a method worth employing.

Since I have a rather large gig on Thursday night in front of 300 or so people, looking down at my bank of material, I am considering going to Reading beforehand, hoping to lose balance.

To be honest, this isn't really possible - it's time to sit down and write.

e-pizza.

I ordered a pizza online last night from a well known pizza chain, paid on my credit card and once my order was complete I recieved an email from "the kitchen" which contained the soothing missive of "relax, it's on its way"

Not being completely convinced by the idea that the information on the type and style of pizza I required was being transmitted via small electronic pulses along a phone line towards a pizza restaurant in East London, I called them up after half an hour fully prepared to rant and to dismiss their e-venture as wildly ambitious and foolish, as my buzzer rang, and 5 mins later I was eating pizza.

It wasn't that good actually, my e-pizza. It tasted hastily prepared, as if it were assembled by the very person who built the technology which aided it's delivery.

I imagined a geek with jargonistic tendencies, winner of some IT company's "coder of the year" competition, winning a t-shirt featuring an iconic penguin, falling on hard times, ending up dropping mushrooms onto a circular bready base.

The idea suddenly didn't seem so clever...

My thoughts turned to e-babs.

I fell asleep