It’s been ten days……..

March 16, 2010

I looked in the mirror the other day.  I usually don’t, not anymore, apart from sorting spots out and picking hairs out of me hooter!  Anyway, we’ve got one of those long mirrors that girls use.  I walked past bollock naked and by mistake glanced over my left shoulder.  Did you ever see Alfred Hitchcock’s opening titles or remember E.T. lying, sick on that river side?  Well, I resembled those two images with a bit of Ghandi (the legs) and Dave Lee (the belly) thrown in for good measure! 
A diet is called for!

The first thing to go was alcohol.  Along with it went my reason to live.  I’d done this before. For six years! Fucking hell!  I can do this I told myself as I searched the drug cupboard for heroin or something stronger.  This is no problem.

Day One

Woke up knowing that this is the best I’m going to be feeling all day.  It is nine o’clock, I stagger to the bathroom with legs that have gone stiff in protest.  My hair is quite long, like the old days.  I don’t look so bad,for my age!  Considering I’ve lived dog years really.  Dogs being the operative word sometimes.  I poke my tongue out and recoil in horror.  It looks as if I’ve been sucking a Victory V tablet all night.  On top of that I have a spot on my chin, on the left.  I must be detoxing.  I’ve noticed over the years that left of the chin is a zit hotspot.  I give it the good news.  Nothing happens, except a large bruisey thing appears around the spot making it look like a fried egg.  Shit!
The shower is cold and then hot and then scalding.  I dry myself and have another look in the mirror.  The dog looks and runs off!  It’s the first time he’s seen me make it out of the bathroom without a look that says never again.  I feel no different.  I should do really as I had only one glass of wine last night.  I should have had a vineyard knowing I wasn’t going to have any for a while. But then I’m not stopping because of drink problems ….not really, this is for dieting purposes only.  I won’t drink today, no problem …nothing a quick serenity prayer won’t sort out.
Breakfast is a fry up  …Rome wasn’t built in a day.
Went to the gym lunchtime …and had a burger!
The evening saw us sitting in front of the TV watching Private Practice.  When she went to bed I had a couple of episodes of The Shield to bloke myself up.  I went to bed at eleven and got to sleep at four.  Must be the jet lag.

Day Two
Up at 0600 and went for a run… Just kidding!
Woke up at 0900 and staggered into the bathroom shielding my eyes from the mirror.  I think back to all the girls the newspapers said I’d had and thought about would I still have had them if I looked then how I do now?  Probably all the one’s with dodgy mince–pies …. or the really desperate buggers.  Still, C’est la vie as the Italians say!
Breakfast is two boiled eggs and soldiers.  I’m playing golf today with the Dogs.. The Dessert Oilmen’s Golf association.  12 30 at the Ell’s course, a right bastard of a place.  I caddied there once (for one hole) as the mighty Ronnie Corbett took on Ernie Ells for charity and got fucking hammered.  I think Ronnie’s still in the bunker on the ninth.  I’ll play well, I’m sure of it.
Not too bad really.  I hit a couple of three hundred yarders and missed a few two foot puts!
The lads were going off to a barbie.  I declined and went home.
No booze.  A salad, and Private Practice with the wife …A fucking nightmare.

Day Three
Up at 0730 feeling great! Really.
I do a couple of hours work on the Sinderella script.  It’s really coming on.  I sit and giggle to myself.  The words just seem to flow from me.  Whenever I write, I picture my old friend,the writer Brian Blackburn and think to myself ‘What would he have written?’.   It seems to work.  Quite what he’d think of a black fairy called Fairy God-mother-fucker is anybody’s guess.
Went to the gym with my new felt greatness and did a bit of P.E. I’ve lost the will to do it, as a friend said to me that when you are over fifty you cannot build new muscle ….so what’s the point?
Early to bed, with a book about the true story of The Man Who Never Was.

Day Four
Michelle says my skin looks better even after three days.  I imagine that in three weeks I’ll look like Brad Pitt.
More P.E.
Two o’clock sees me sitting at the computer adding some bite to a script called Comics.  It’s a great story about an old mainstream comic playing a new comic venue.  It’s not based on me particularly but it’s pretty much what us old guys think of the new guys and vice versa. (Fuck knows how you spell that, even the spell check can’t do it).
Two episodes of The Shield and then to bed with the dead body floating in the sea off the coast of Spain.

Day Five
Up at 0700 and drive to Muscat in the Oman.  I am paying a visit to some of our troops.
Mark Cann the director of BFF is flying in and I’m meeting him at the hotel which is 487 k’s from my house in Al Barsha.  It’s right across the dessert.  Thank god I have a Range Rover.
Fucking Range Rovers! About an hour out of Muscat, the car turned into a truck.  A light came on which read Engine systems failure.  Shit!  What now?
The road to Muscat is a good road, and it’s busy so if I explode someone will help, I hope.  The temp gauge is showing normal. Everything seems ok… ish, but I’ve no acceleration.  It must be the supercharger gone up the pictures!  I am going, but getting no-where; rather like Nick Clegg.
I speed along at 80 kph and reach Muscat at 1 30 time for lunch with Mark Cann.
The gig is in a secret place so don’t ask!  We arrive in the middle of nowhere and set our little p.a. up in-between some portacabins.  There’s only me on the show so I’d better be good.  I was, I think.  After much back-slapping and photos on mobiles we set off back to our hotel and a bit of supper.
Apparently, according to the man at Range Rover, the supercharger will be ok when cooled down.  Fingers crossed.  Oh….I had a sip of beer with the troops after the show.. But that don’t count!!
For those of you who haven’t seen the BFF web site …please do (www.bff.org.uk )

Day Six
The car’s working so Mark and I set off into the main part of Muscat to find something to do.
We were back within the hour and went to sleep.
Tonight’s gig was local to Muscat, 150 of Her Majesty’s finest.  After a 5 mile trip that lasted an hour (got lost) we arrive at our location.  Mark sets up and on I go.  This was a really good gig.  The troops were young and hadn’t seen me before.  The squadron leader had only just started shaving by the look of him.  It went great and we were soon setting off back to the hotel leaving the happy troops to get shit faced on their two can allowance.
The troops are in fine form.  I can’t tell you what they’re up to because they never told me but, whatever it is, you can bet your arse they’ll be doing it well.
God bless our armed forces.

Day Seven
I’m sleeping well.  Like a baby in fact.  Sleep for an hour then cry all night.
The journey home is a non event until I miss the Oman UAE border.  So when I produce my passport at the border post, I am told in no uncertain terms to bugger off back to Oman and get an exit visa.  Problem is I’m out of Oman so now I have to get back in.  This could be a problem.  I would then have two entry visas and no exits.  Fuck it .. I’ll brass it out, as they say.  Off I go back to the Oman border (about 4 k) and bullshit the guard with a mixture of Arabic, English and Stanley Unwin.  He lets me through and even salutes!! I get an exit visa and set off at warp speed only to have the Range Rover pack up again.  I zoom along the mountain pass with overtaking Pakistani truck drivers calling me an arsehole in Urdhu!
I arrive home to a hero’s welcome from the Misses.  And am rewarded with a glass of diet coke and more Private Practices.  Fell asleep on the sofa …And farted apparently.

Day Eight
I feel really good now and do fuck all, all day.
The trouble with doing nothing is, you never know when you’ve finished.

Day Nine
Got confirmation at last.
I’M GOING TO GLASGOW FOR A PANTO THIS DECEMBER!!
Yes fans your hero is off to the Pavilion to star in Robin Hood a family panto.  Check their web site!!
Celebrated with a stick of celery and a diet coke.

I weighed myself and have put on two pounds! How’s that work then?

Day Ten
Tried the Samaritans….. engaged.
It’s got to the stage now that if I wanted a drink I would have to force it down.  I am a non drinker!
Had a meeting with my pal Ian Fairservice who is going to publish my first ever novel.  It’s called Joined At The Hip.  It took a year to write.  My manager said that he wouldn’t show it to any publishers until I changed some of it.  I didn’t want to do that, so bollocks to him …in the nicest possible way.  I got Motivate Publishing here in the middle east to publish it.  It will be available after the summer.  You’ll love it…I hope.
Still no booze …..and now no nails either.

Day 11
Hasd llittol dfr7nk lunstine so fuccit hic!