Yes, forgive me people for I have sinned, it’s been 6 days since my last blog and I am guilty of being lazy. Am not a Catholic but that sounded like I might get three hail crazies and a how’s your father for that bad behaviour.
Anyway, where did we leave off? Oh, yes I was in Barcelona and heading to Madrid! Yes- I recall now, the train journey to Madrid was lovely and speedy, they even had air conditioning on the train, I felt spoilt.
The shows went really good in Barcelona so I was full of optimism for my Madrid sojourn and the weather was hot! Me and the promoter Stephen checked into our hotel in the bust main street somewhere in Madrid, I don’t know exactly where as I was only there for one night.
We had a heap of fun, walking in the sun and then we happened upon really grumpy, maudlin, gloomy hookers, who to be honest weren’t that hot or hooky and I believe they shared my aversion to stupid men, I realised that if I give up comedy, there will always be a place for me in Madrid with the angry old prostitutes. I always thought women who sold sex, were needy and eager to please…not this lot; these middle aged saggy chicks looked like their tax bill had arrived with their period. Maybe they were unhappy sex slaves and I have just completely undermined their plight. Sorry, I always get it wrong.
Anyway, I ended up outside the hotel round the back having a fag when a wee Spanish fat old man came over and asked me ‘how much!’ I smiled and then flicked my ciggie at him and was secretly pleased I somehow fitted in with that amazing city. “Go away” I screeched, and he looked nonplussed. I would be a real grumpy hooker to be honest, my sunny disposition can sometimes be hard to find and I don’t like slimy old fat men.
The other women smiled at me in that knowing way of ‘yes, tell him to fuck off’ but that sisterhood ended when they thought I was doing a number on their patch. I tried to explain I was a fat dishevelled comedian having a fag but the merely sucked something noisy in their teeth and spat at my feet. We bonded.
So Madrid went good, the comedy show was lovely and then the volcano in Iceland went cranky and suddenly I was stuck in Madrid an extra day with no way home. Luckily Lee Mitchell was a nice bloke I met at the gig and he was general manager of the Vinnci Hotel in Madrid and looked after me like a princess. He got me a cracking room, plied me with Tetley tea, offered me the spa and took me for dinner. (Maybe he thought I was an old hooker and that was his thing?) NO…he was lovely and made the extra stay WONDERFUL and I possibly owe him my kidney for that.
The hotel is AWESOME, I can’t tell you enough so check it out on the web at: Vinnci Hotel it’s just stunning.
I realised my flight to Edinburgh was out of the question and as I was going to Nottingham on the Friday coming, it seemed to make sense to just head to London and get the train to Notts and go have an enforced holiday in London with my long time mate Monica.
She is a diamond, her flat is like a day spa and her spare bed is always fresh and ready for her pal. Though the white room, with the stark white ceiling, the white windows with sparkling white bed linen with the strong sun shining through in the morning did give me snow blindness. Monica’s bathroom is marble with more expensive products than Harvey Nicks could shake a Jimmy Choo at. I had the best shower and body treatments ever! I love Monica! Though realised I would miss Ashley and Husband for another weekend…he doesn’t mind though and she couldn’t care less if I ran away and became a gloomy hooker in Madrid!
Ashley though kindly wrote my Sunday column last week for the website as I was under pressure and between flights etc…she is a good writer indeed. Well, she did graduate Uni as a writer, so she should be!
London was sunny and I had a few days to pass the time and catch up with Monica, though she works more hours than anyone I know. She owns her own PR Company, and I don’t know anyone who puts the hours in that she does and in high heels!
I headed into Soho to have a few drinks and catch up with mates, that’s where the second sexual proposition of the week came along. Yes, I am a sexy hot babe magnet…well…a man offered me on a date. He had one eye, a profound limp and a dog called Smack, he was homeless but at least he did see the potential of my lady skills right there with his one good eye!
I had to say no and tell him I was married already. “Lucky bastard of a husband” he muttered and tripped over a street bin, he then didn’t get up and just fell asleep in a heap. He was hot, and I have still ‘got it’ people.
Constantly beating off sexy men is becoming second nature to me, it must be my tufty thick hair and slightly dry scabby eye that’s attracting the fella’s- what can I say? You can’t explain sexual attraction; you just have to live with it.
I managed to rope a few meetings in London and use the time to my advantage and things worked out well actually, sometimes serendipity works but am pissed off rebooking flights either due to the volcano or the British Airways strike which seems to be constantly on/off and making me insane!
By the way I have noticed that my IPhone keeps running quickly out of power, it needs more battery charging than Katie Holmes vibrator…is it just me or is everyone else pissed off that it doesn’t last any longer than 6 hours off a socket?
So Nottingham here I come, life is good the sun is shining and somewhere in the east Midlands is a drunken broken man waiting on me coming to his city, I hope he has a dog!_