Look what I just found in my hair! Look at it! Just look. How did it get there? They're not mine. They're not LB's. I didn't find them up by the school like the last ones.

Wonders never cease to amaze your friends for life is a box of chocolates.

Blackedy

I'm creating a show for Bill Cosby (fingers toes and everything crossed. Not eyes though, don't want to look like a bally Frenchman).
It's all about him and his fat uncle. Said fat uncle and Bill live on a farm in Winchester! I know! How do I come up with this stuff? I tell thee dear reader, if I was a Christian I'd probably believe in God!
All I need now to get my next big hit away is for Bill's lawyers to resind their devilish threats.
Had pig-tail pie for luncheon today. It looked unappetising but one can't waste any part of the pig when one's run it over in the Mondeo. Had mid afternoon lunch two with a wonderful young actress I'm developing a sketch show for. She passed on the remaining chunk of pig-tail pie (these actresses are always watching their weight, I'm lucky, I can eat whatever I like and can still fit into my size fifty two wedding trunks).

She's been in some right crapadoodle over the years so I think she was refreshed that I offered her something new. I'm using people off comedy message boards to write my sketches for me! Ingenious! I hear you cry.... no hold on that was Lucky Bitch calling for my sheets.

I'm back. Amongst the other talent I'm harvesting (apart from the geniuses on internetal forums) are two apples, a statue of Sophocles and Mitzy, which is the name of a fart I once did.

Better get the winter blankets on my bed now! Wouldn't want to sweat less than usual.

Me on my holidays! I simply adore Capri. Too hot for some but for me just right! Apparently a whale had been beached during my stay, I didn't see it but would hear people referring to it almost every time I visited the beach.

Me and My Edit

Stuck in a bloody edit all week. Have missed all the meetings with the other head honchos and those are the ones with biscuits IN WRAPPERS. I'm an unhappy Stevie, not only have I missed the bickies but my mother decided that this week she would be ill. Got 'Mavis' to post her a photograph of Frank Thornton. Bickies and pickies!

Head of Comedy didn't like my 'two blokes who live in a flat and talk to each other' show. He said it was derivative. I rather astutely said 'OF LIFE'!!! He ignored my reposte and sent me on my way. Not before I'd stolen the picture of his wife from his desk. I'll be shuffling along to that later.

Comedy writers!

Have been reading scripts today. As a world class comedy producer I get sent some right turds I can tell you. I was reclining on two ottoman's pushed together loosening my skirt when I came across a piece of pure genius.
I ran straight to the water closet and did one of the longest, thinnests bowel movements of my life in sheer glee.
I had received a gift of a script from a new writer who'd been around for some time. It was a wonderfully original piece about two men who live in a flat and talked to each other. I rampantly rushed through the script salivating over every page (must buy j-cloths). I immediately faxed it through to the Head of Comedy's private fax contraption... fingers crossed that he's as erect as I continue to be over this.

Bumped into a couple of actors I barely know in the Electric Bar and Grill on London's trendy Portobelly Road. They were enjoying a large plate of chippos between them so I sat down and cheekily pinched a couple. I licked the mayonaise off the table before I heard a voice ask 'excuse me who are you?'. I laughed uproariously before re-introducing myself. They left soon after, probably to write on their blogs about our hilarious encounter. I finished their chippos.

Caught up on some shows I'd missed whilst working so hard on my last big hit. It felt like forever since I'd had the time to watch comedy as opposed to making it. Started with a little show called 'The Peep Show Show'. Glorious stuff. I must tell people about it at work, they won't have their fingers on the button so I see it as my duty to keep them informed.
I then moved on to 'The Inbetweenies Show', 'The In Crowd' and finishing with 'The Greening Grass of Home'. I found them all delicious but then port wine always makes me gigglesome.

Till next time, dear readers, it's time for my jacuzzi bath. Bubbly Wubbly!

Women! One simply can't live with them...

I simply cannot understand my wife. Or 'lucky bitch' as I christened her in our wedding vows (hand written I might add). I'm sleeping in the second spare bedroom again tonight. All because I mentioned that one of my young writers looked like the sort who might be up for a threesome. I'm most befuddled, and annoyed because I have almost no sour cream left and eight of my nachos have so far succeeded in hurting my soft palette. At this rate chewing seems inevitable.

Cheeky Scamps!

Somebody left this card on my office desk this morning. I presume it's meant to be me. I couldn't believe the cheek of it. My arms are easily long enough to reach any form of tasty pie. I laughed it off of course but that's my way. Inside I was wounded. Especially when 'Mavis' our camp northern PM shouted 'It's going to devour us all' as I sidled past. The vile shit got a huge laugh from the rest of the team which sent a shooting pain through my testicle bag.
Lo! I helped myself to some Freddo Frogs from the tuck shop and poured a wee dram of single malt to strengthen my resolve. By that time it was nearly 10am so I popped out for breakfast. By the time I returned it was lunch, lucky that the building has revolving doors I can tell you. Joke!



I'd booked a small lucheon meal for a writer friend and I around the corner at The Notting Grill in London's trendy Notting Hill. It's a real foodie treat - if you're a canivore. Alas I wasn't very hungry so I only had four courses (with wine naturellement) all of which were steak and chips.

We were meeting to discuss my brilliant new sketch show. What I needed was a writing team that were cheap, fast and young. I got straight onto Roy Clarke. Sadly he was out or dead or something. This man (who I'll name Boy for discretion's sake) sat in front of me at the dinner table was typical comedy writer fare. Glasses, non-descript old jumper, drink problem. We got on like a house on fire, or should I say a zoo because the sketch show is actually based around zoo animals and their keepers! Huzzah!

Suffice to say lunch turned to dinner, dinner to drinking, drinking to dancing, finally collapsing into bed in time to hear the first lark of the morning. WHAT A NIGHT! I only wish the Boy had been able to stay beyond 2 pm. I'm very taken with this chap, he's only very young but I think I can chip, chip, chip away until I have a perfect comedy machine.


Let's see what he does with the zoo ideas first. I'm particularly looking forward to my 'David the Monkey' character, he's a monkey, and he's really naughty! I had tears rolling down my cheeks when I was explaining this premise to young Boy. Being a 'yoof' he of course sat with a vague sneer on his ruby lips. He excites me.

Well the kettle's boiled now so I'm going to sterilise a needle and lance the boil in my armpit. Can't wait. Cioa babies.

Writing for television!

Ooops! I somehow managed to upset a little girl I have under me. She's a producer of sorts, by which I mean she's producing one of MY shows.
All I did was to inform her, quite generously I might add, that the Head of Comedy didn't want to accelerate her career as fast as I did. My exact words were 'he hates you'.

Silly little thing went straight to him to investigate why! I can't believe the gumption. Well suffice to say HoC denied it entirely. How was I to know it wasn't true? Sometimes I think this world really is not fair to people with very acute and justified opinions. It's simply not cricket.
I had a large oxtail soup to cheer myself up which was out of character for me as I normally never drink at this time of the day.

Hopefully she'll get over her mistake soon and I can continue to help her run telly-box shows. She really does have marvellous tits.

Well I'm dripping suet all over the space bar now so will leave you. Mother will have to be called with her cloth.

Welcome!

And a happy new year to you!

2009 is sure to be another fantastic year for me. I feel exhilarated as I stand here on the threshold of a whole new universe of opportunity. With over fifteen years of comedy producing under my belt I'm finally an executive, in charge of my own destiny and in charge of all MY lovely shows. I'm looking forward to this year especially because my next big hit is teetering on the horizon. The BBC are sure to love my fantastic new idea - a cartoon sitcom! Can you believe I thought that up all myself? Lo! It makes you think there may be a God somewhere. Though I subscribe to the view that God is in all of us. Especially me! Joke.

I first thought of the idea when a junior member of my team approached me with the idea. The poor boy was having trouble writing the thing so I employed a writer I'd been championing for a while. I'd discovered this young talent all by myself when he was brought to me by a young talent scheme. He's very funny but very uppity, asking for some sort of creative control. Well, I don't know about you but when a WRITER starts using words like 'creativity' I begin to smell a rat. If I'm the one putting his words on the telly-box I damn well deserve my piece of the pie.

It's a drag but one NEEDS to break young talent or they become very difficult to control.

Well I'm tired now, the bottle's nearly empty and the cheese is running low. I better make a start on the pate before bed or I won't have time for trifle.