Phoebe Waller-Bridge and the Politics of Comedy
OR: How I learnt to Start worrying and love Sofie Hagen

I once went on a Platonic Tinder Date (PTD) with Phoebe Waller-Bridge’s best friend. From what I learnt in the course of the evening, Ms PWB is arguably underrated, with her 10 or 12 or 14 Golden Globes or Emmy’s for Fleabag or Killing Eve and her James Bond script editing duties not to mention Crashing, the sitcom that was a minor hit pre-Fleabag on a reasonably obscure British TV Station.

My date for the night was a single working mother, maybe a year or two older than me. I remember it definitely was going to be PLATONIC because I’d been seeing someone for 4-6 weeks without it being exclusive, I’d worked 60 hours that week and 60 hours a week before washing dishes, she was intensely hungover, it was in her flat, obviously her daughter was at her father’s, she was intensely hungover after her one night of freedom and at one point due to my two week diet of cold mashed potato that was 40% butter because it was french style and michelin rated I went to the toilet, and luckily it was a two storey flat and we were a floor apart because I farted so loudly for so long (maybe 90 seconds at 104 decibels) i still kind of assume she heard.

She was a single mother who Produced an unreasonably successful podcast, that had just SOLD OUT THE ROYAL ALBERT HALL for a second or third time. She didn’t tell me that, I’m a googler. She also worked part-time in Corporate Social Responsibility (CSR), going to Law Firms, Banks etc. and giving speeches on how to create an inclusive environment for Women, Minorities, Working Class Backgrounds as these organisations had themselves become frustrated at feeling like a bland monoculture of a 2008 era Mid Life Crisis of Leching Men who came back from the odd 90 minute lunch looking like they were going to their office for a nap or would seem a bit cocainey whilst loudly dictating Memorandums to a Secretary across a reasonably crowded office in the long forgotten recent days before London was a City with 87 Skyscrapers because our Political Leaders were Woody Allen, Friends and Jackie Chan fanboys who loved the falsely idealized reality of New York City or Hong Kong before realizing that a city that’s a construction project becomes a hotbed for street violence, as CCTV is hidden by scaffolding and the poorest and richest of an urbanized 10m dystopia in a nation that is hugely underresourced in terms of skill shortages in EVERY OTHER PART of the country becomes mired in imaginary trainlines and a student debt bill of £105bn due to high-rate interest levels that haven’t been passed on to students. PTD felt like a sellout for doing CSR for evil companies that liked to stick their name on charities and art galleries and cut cheques for 6 figure sums that were essentially tax write offs they paid £0 towards.

It turned out that when PTD and PWB were as unsuccessful as me (AAM) in their mid 20s, one of their University mates had an elderly relative that passed away and left her a 2 bedroom flat in Acton or somewhere. Maybe it was a 3 bedroom house in Clapham. Anyway, hwe uni gang got together and slept 2 to a room. They all had dayjobs they hated and degrees in Drama or English or something they never used. So PWB hatched a plan. On Saturdays they would go hungover to Portabello Market and sell all of their belongings that due to the cramped living conditions they had no space for. Books, CDs, Jewellery, whatever. They were generally as hungover as possible on 2 hours sleep. It took enough in that they quit their jobs, found 3 day a week temp jobs, and started theatre. Edinburgh shows, London fringe theatre runs. Fleabag was originally one of the worst reviewed Edinburgh shows (my googling) getting I believe 2 stars from The Guardian and generally in the 2-3 star range from the other publications in Edinburgh not run by overzealous students or marketing teams for newspapers without enough budget to review properly so just giving 5 stars to everything to get stuck on posters (The Mirror). The Scotsman, The Times, The Stage, everyone agreed Fleabag was some posh girl having a temper tantrum. ‘Nothing’s worse than a half educated man.’

PTD told me a lot about her friendship with Phoebe, her ex-husband, her child. Obviously I won’t share that here except that it was IMPRESSIVE. Phoebe had missed a party and sent her either a whatsapp video, audio message or 35 texts in a row about how she missed her, missed their friends, was grateful to be writing or promoting something. PTD coparented with her ex-husband and they were essentially the dream example of that. His sister, her ex-sister-in-law, didn’t like his new girlfriend as much as her. She panicked when she was told that half drunk at a party that was her one night off a year and kissed a girl she’d known since they were 18 just as a way to do ANYTHING to leave that social interaction. Her daughter sounded adjusted, old enough to process it and young enough that her parents had sacrificed whatever animosity it took to get divorced in the first place.

But what about the ex-co-host of her Royal Albert Hall selling out podcast? Sofie Hagen, aka the Sofiopath (it’s a compliment, Sofie). When I was a 5-TIME-AWARD-WINNING-BUT-UNBOOKABLE-DUE-TO-A-SERIES-OF-PERSONAL-CATASTROPHES-AND-DICKISH-BEHAVIOUR stand up comedian, it is hard to explain how undeniable Sofie was. Shortly before I quit in 2015, we were on a bill together. She opened. Had the crowd eating out of her hand. We’d been friends and RIVALS ever since she’d moved to London when I started stand up. She was already semi-famous in Denmark, which sounds like a joke but she’d done something for Comedy Central there or done well at some showcase. She didn’t tell me that. I YouTube as well as Google. ANYWAY, at that gig where Sofie opened she asked how I was and I told her ‘DO YOU MIND LEAVING? I’M QUITE DEPRESSED AND I HAVE THIS WEIRD NEW MATERIAL TO TRY OUT. THIS ISN’T MY KIND OF AUDIENCE. IF I KNOW YOU’RE WATCHING IT WILL FREAK ME OUT. She understood, either she lurked in the back of the room or headed home. I stood deliberately out of the spotlight in order to make the audience feel uncomfortable enough not to heckle. I did my 7 minutes of ONE LINER JOKES I WAS SO BORED OF THAT WERE NO LONGER RELEVANT TO MY LIFE and 3 minutes of NEW IDEAS THAT CAN’T GEL WITH MY ONE LINER JOKES THAT I KNOW THEY’LL HATE. I commuted the 84 minutes from Clapham to Whetstone.

Sofie had once invited me to share a flatshare with her and two other comedians. By the time I got there the only room available was the one on the ground floor that used to be the lounge where they were likely to see the STRONG BIPOLAR MEDICATION i was still taking but in very low doses. I couldn’t risk that. I turned it down. Sofie made it home in 20 minutes that night. I had a 84-105 (depending on whether i walked or bussed the last bit) minute South West to END OF THE NORTHERN LINE AT THE NORTH END London journey back to my parents’ in my upper class prison with the diagnosis to play the victim. One of Sofie’s flatmates became reasonably famous in a did Live At The Apollo once nominated for big awards plays big Festivals in Melbourne way. Sofie won the biggest award in Edinburgh, well Best Newcomer so either joint first or second biggest, but it was the best show of that year by a country mile. It’s only competitor was a British Muslim comedian who didn’t get nominated because until 2015 literally 0-5 minority comedians had been nominated in the entire 30+ year history of the supposedly DANGEROUSLY LEFT WING Edinburgh Comedy Awards. 300 comedians were kicked out of a Free Fringe venue that had a very personal grudge against another Free Fringe venue. The venue owners were two brothers and one had said yes to one and one had said yes to the other. Those 300 acts had all already paid £280-£10,000 to the Edinburgh Fringe in terms of Brochure costs, travel, PR etc. I played a charity football match that had an audience of 0 so raised no money for charity. It was the free fringe against the paid fringe. Peter Buckley Hill, who had kicked those 400 acts out, wrote an email about the match comparing it to apartheid. Sofie thanked him in her speech. I moaned about it through the 3 months it was going on before the fringe, at least once on social media. The comedians I’d idolized said NOTHING. From Alexei Sayle to Stewart Lee to Josie Long to ANYONE Left Wing or Right Wing. The POOR GOT THE PICTURE.

Sofie ran The Guilty Feminist with Deborah Frances-White for it’s first year or so. She was the real voice of the podcast. But Sofie is…. bullish. She once won a battle rap by comparing her black female opponent to a slave, a transvestite and said she was only on TV because of her tits. You can still watch it on youtube behind a private link if you comment me or read about it here. It was at a time where battle rap and comedians were both being ironically offensive to a T. The fault of the Louis CKs and other scumbags. I wrongly defended Sofie for far too long afterwards. https://www.chortle.co.uk/punching-ups/2017/05/26/36638/when_a_joke_ends_in_divorce. PTD didn’t say why Sofie left the podcast. Except she’s Sofie, like I’m Joshua. In some ways she’s my third sister. We’re IDEAS people. Not team players. WE CAN WIN WIMBLEDON BUT STICK US IN A 5 A SIDE FOOTBALL TEAM AND BY WEEK 6 WE WILL HAVE MURDERED THE ANNOYING ONE WITH OUR TENNIS RACKET BECAUSE HE BALL HOGS THEN GETS DRUNK WHEN WE GO FOR THE OBLIGATORY HALF A PINT AFTERWARDS.

Sofie RIGHTLY made a huge fuss about FAT SHAMING posters that were funded by the NHS, comparing anyone with the ‘wrong’ body type to a chain smoker, saying they’d get cancer, giving cruel schoolchildren the ammunition to make their 13 year old child by called a fat-mothered-whore 3 days a week when this slightly above average sized imaginary woman was able to get out of her job early enough to pick up her kid from school. Maybe by the time this kid is 14 they’ll be walking home and anorexic to overcompensate. The world turns til it burns.

After cowgatehead (where the acts were kicked out) I broke up with my girlfriend at the fringe very amicably, went to the Forth Road Bridge to kill myself, enjoyed the view, realized I was finished with stand up comedy, was SO TIRED from chronic insomnia that I sat on a grassy knoll, stood up too quickly, and hit a sign saying how far it was to the next town ‘Aberdeen, 18 miles’ or whatever. I needed 11 staples in my head. I quit my showcase halfway through for the cool agency that Simon Cowell and Simon Fuller would purchase for a 7 or 8 figure sum the next year. I went home. My last gig was headlining New Comedian of the Year 2015, having won it the year before. That means doing 10 minutes after the audience have seen 14 acts do 5 minutes each. All of the judges were the critics so I remained unreviewed. I did largely new material that did really well. I recorded it, uploaded it to facebook, then accidentally deleted it a few months later when editing some old posts where I’d made jokes to ‘comedians’ that didn’t necessarily enjoy a retort to a dickish comment. I became a supply teacher. I had another breakdown. I recovered. I now have a dayjob and make punk poetry.

But, does Sofie get a penny of the 4,000 attendees paying £14-40 each to see The Guilty Feminist LIVE AT THE ROYAL ALBERT HALL? I didn’t ask, all i know is I’ve heard two episodes of The Guilty Feminist, one with Sofie and one without her (I asked PTD for her favourite). Both I listened to but only one I finished. Sofie has that grit, that connection, that passion.

ALL HAIL PHOEBE WALLER BRIDGE

WE ONLY HAVE 1 SITCOM ON TV NOW

NOT GOING OUT DOESN’T COUNT

SHE HAS 3 NAMES

SHE LOOKS LIKE A SUPERMODEL

CO OPTED BY THE CONSERVATIVES NOT IN THE CONTENT BUT THE MARKETING OF IT

THE WAY IT CAN’T BE DONE ON A SET BECAUSE THEY’VE ALL BEEN SOLD

SO IT’S AN ALL STAR FAMOUS CAST CLEARLY ON LOCATION

AND THERE’S A HOT PRIEST LIKE THE ENTIRE 3 SERIES OF REV WHICH WAS INFINITELY BETTER

I ramble, as ever,

JRo

I started this blog as a way to write daily, which I did in pretty much the whole of January.

This ended up being the momentum for me to write and record a spoken word album, ‘Poetry Vehicle’ which is available at http://Joshuaross.bandcamp.com

I’ve now written half of the second album, well maybe a third, and want to make a video project for the end of the year. It includes the line ‘I’m back from the dead in the land of the broken’ which sounds like it’s been written decades ago by some legendary figure

I’d like to start a website and include the writing from this blog but I don’t know how

I lost my temper with John Robins, mocked him and treated him with rudeness. Well, I made fun of a quiz show he did on Sky with my old Edinburgh 2012 partner Mr Sunil Patel.

Whether that was right or wrong of me or the show was good or bad, it’s funny what two men with a camera and an idea can do that a professional TV production cannot. BAD GOLF is more professional, more thought out, more interesting and more watchable than anything on Comedy Central that isn’t Impractical Jokers (E.G. a comedian going on holiday with their mum or watching football with another comedian)

Particularly when one of those men is Alex Horne. Alex is the perfect ‘drummer’ of comedy, the backbone of any double act. Whether it’s Greg Davies, Tim Key or John Robins – Alex knows how to sit back, talk less than his mate, make sure the cameras are switched on and save it in the edit.

OK So ‘Bad Golf’ is in a boring synopsis ‘what it says on the tin’, it’s two comedians playing golf at a less than professional level. However, there are certain caveats with this:

• Although Horne and Robins are both ‘bad’ golfers, they play at by the standards of the game an above average level. They have a handicap in the 18-25 range (if you have a handicap of 18, because a golf hole has 18 holes, in English that translates to you taking an extra shot on each hole than a professional would)
• So, what is important to understand about the show is that Horne and Robins’s audience are, I would bet my bottom dollar, not golf fans. Because each episode of the show is 30 minutes (divided into two parts, each highlighting 9 holes) it is too long to attract casual golf viewers at first, so it is mostly Taskmaster and Robins & James fans that will be watching at this stage.

What is crucial to watching the show is to understand that you are watching a father and son. Alex Horne plays like someone who’s been a dad for 10 years (I interned at a festival in 2010 where Horne made a video about becoming a father, so this isn’t stalky of me I just know when he was a dad SHOUTOUT LONDON WORD FESTIVAL).

Alex Horne uses his driver like a 74 year old man. He doesn’t swing it back all the way and he’s really rigid but for what he sacrifices in distance he hits it down the middle of the fairway 7 times out of 10.

John Robins plays golf like a man who doesn’t mind playing in the drizzle then a storm hits and on his backswing he gets struck by lightning. Although Robins hits a golf ball like a golfer, all lithe in the hips, full swing, picturesque finish, he is a man on the verge of a nervous breakdown. You really need to only watch the ‘part 2’ of any episode to see what I mean.

In the first half of the round (Part 1 on the Front 9), John does a convincing Miranda Hart impression. He seems like the kind of guy who’s from Bath and you can’t really tell if his dad was a labourer or a financer that sent his son to Public School. That ambiguous posh when making a joke toodle pip thing. In the most recent episode Robins got himself into a tizz trying to define the difference between Ladies’ Tees and gender neutrality. Instead of explaining that ‘Ladies’ is an outdated term socially that is unfortunately still used in the sporting arena, so for instance Serena Williams wins the ‘Ladies’ tournament at Wimbledon) – John found himself on the backfoot trying to joke his way out of it and digging himself deeper. This kind of self knowing yet half unaware semi-awkwardness is strangely appealing and human in person even if it sounds partridgey or cringey when I’ve tried to explain it out of context.

In the second half of the round (on the back 9), John’ll be clutching his vape every chance he gets inbetween swings, swearing at every shot that didn’t go how he hoped (even the ones that turned out ok), madly complimenting Alex Horne who starts to have to correct him (paraphrase ‘actually John although it was nice of you to say that was a nice swing by me my ball ended up in the forest over there’) and Robins basically ends up wandering around with his head staring at his shoes telling himself to fuck off in the third person.

But this suits Alex Horne’s dad tendencies perfectly. Alex at this stage of the show (3 or 4 episodes in) has started supporting John Robins over himself in this supposedly sporting endeavour. He tells the camera how John is funnier than him, how he just needs to believe in himself a bit more. If Greg Davies is Taskmaster’s ‘Headmaster’ using the ‘Stick’, Alex Horne is the Deputy Head using the ‘carrot’, and in the ‘Bad Golf’ part of the Horniverse, Greg’s retired and Alex is now head and he hasn’t changed! He’s still using the carrot! And bit by bit John is starting to relax. So this week John scored 15 or 16 shots for 2 consecutive holes (this means that it took him twice as many shots as he should have done), then he somehow did THE OPPOSITE of what John Robins does at golf. He started playing well after playing terribly, he came back.

FINAL NOTES ON BAD GOLF:

Alex’s tendencies – plays nice folk music over the top of the highlights of them playing golf

John’s tendencies – refuses to wear a jacket beyond a crap free XfM thin parka thing in the rain so is constantly being rained on like in that Travis song

JOSH’S FINAL THOUGHT, IS THIS A PROPER SHOW

the thing is, I stand by my side of the Ross vs Robins argument because FOR ME, I’d much rather see more scripted content than unscripted. So even though BAD GOLF is an 8.7 and a show like ‘comedians watching football’ on comedy central at the moment (which Horne and Robins aren’t associated with) would be say a 1.2/10, they both occupy an ‘unscripted content men about sport’ thing for me that I find dull, so bad golf is like the best thing in the worst genre. I won’t get back into it cos this post is more about positivity than anything. PEACE AND LUV, JRO.

Ottoline

What Counts as fine?

Tom’s sampled all the wine

Bradley’s a comedic mine

Johnny’s arms are made of twine

Vale’s built of steel and spine

I am Sylvia Plath meets Mr Bean

The comedic has been

From the searching for label scene

James Dean meets Steve McQueen

But I’m a KP

I’m washing dishes

I’m making sandwiches

I’m wearing whites

Decanting oil

I’m cleaning drains

One day I’ll hopefully

Be a commis

or a maitre d’

That’d be nice

———————

woke up from nightmare at 4, 94 yr old grandad crossed road without looking, ankle crushed by father’s car i called the ambulance mum chastised said he’d sleep it off 8am walk to the station white cloud split clear sky in half. I remember the icelandic ash cloud when the sky was completely blue, that’s not clouds it’s smog! playmobil half million flats on the a road now the B&Qs been smashed, tfl tube sign on mental wellbeing ‘DON’T STRESS THE TEST! PROTECT YA HEALTH’ I didn’t tell the chefs at work about the White Rainbow, they’d just make jokes of strip clubs in Riga, Buda, Kiev, Amsterdam. I didn’t join a band to do cocaine out the back of Ramsgate Music Hall. Next day discarded pork belly, turns out Brad hadn’t turned the fridge back on after Sunday deep clean. Shall I save it for staff lunch? It’s rotten Tom said after I’d just eaten a piece. Had 3 pints and a whisky down the gunmakers, told Hackney Fred how Chas and Dave played on My Name Is sample. Then the song came straight on. Labi Siffre’s 1975 track “I Got The…”. SPOOKY.

Later with… Paloma Faith

On the Top Of The Pops Brexit Special

An Endemol BBC Scheduling Space

For the Top Of The Pops Brexit Special

Dua Lipa’s singing bout the Customs Union

Lily Allen’s calling for a second referendum

Skepta raps an athiest communion

Geldof and Ure are striking to defend them

Rita Ora croons over the inner city

In the Top of the Pops Brexit Special

Akala sermonises on our racist history

In The Top of the Pops Brexit Special

And in the streets of New Philadelphia,

Patti Smith is drinking Chai Tea post Tai-Chi

She switches on BBC America

(A fan of Would I Lie to You

So are you

So are you)

It’s no use being a Dylanesque Easy Rider

A Dickensian Verona scene

Where the PRU kids become Midnight Cowboys

Civil music makes civil ears unclean

And in a rare moment of cogniscence Jameela Jamil asks James Acaster, given the IMF regulations on the PIGS countries, 50% spanish youth unemployment, the neothatcherism of Merkel and the rising tide of racism in Poland the Balkans – are we not focusing on the wrong thing? What if the EU is just a giant free trade zone to support the financial sector? If in fact it is right to label half a country racist when given two bad choices?
And Acaster does his shoulder dance and raises his eyebrows.

It’s 29 year olds that act like students I watch out for

She’s a signed up member of Generation Hogwarts

Bounces to work – On a Gym Ball

Embroiders Stools – With Her Thimble

Networking – Intermingle

He’s Shouting in here ear – it’s a jingle

Scared of strangers – why she’s single

He screeches in her ear – like a hi hat cymbol

Circles her for 3 minutes like a 7 inch single

BORN IN 89 HUMAN PINBALL

A generational divide – on a ride

Rebound around my infinite town

If at that age you can be mugged by 14 year olds you deserve it

My top score’s 106,730,000 but i’m the new hipster hermit

The government are paying for my retraining

A 6 week accountancy course at a local college

No austerity for me!

At my third jobcentre appointment

Chrissy had gotten grating

with her middle aged new wave optimism

Note: The idea of the poem series is that they read on the page as depressing, but when I read them aloud they sound catchy and uplifting. HENCE ART. Also, technically stabilized is the right spelling, not stabilised – the z is seen as an Americanization but actually the Americanz kept the original spelling and we changed.

I’VE GOT STABILIZERS IN MY MIND

I’VE GOT STABILIZERS IN MY MIND

DON’T GET WOUND UP BUT I CAN’T UNWIND

I’VE GOT STABILIZERS IN MY MIND

IT’S LIKE STABILIZERS ON YOUR BIKE

IT’S LIKE STABILIZERS ON YOUR BIKE

USED TO RIDE AS FAST AS I LIKED

BUT IT’S LIKE STABILIZERS ON YOUR BIKE

I’VE GOT THE SMALLEST HEADACHE ALL THE TIME

I’VE GOT THE SMALLEST HEADACHE ALL THE TIME

FEEL A BIT HUNGOVER FROM A SODA AND LIME

I’VE GOT THE SMALLEST HEADACHE ALL THE TIME

I’VE GOT STABILIZERS ON MY MIND

I’VE GOT STABILIZERS ON MY MIND

NOW I’M ON TO THE ANTI PSYCHS

BUT A SMALLER DOSE I STILL DO WHAT I LIKE

I went to the Tate Modern on a Friday night to try to feel young

It was sponsored by a jean company Uniqlo or H and M

They searched your bag when you’d finished a 20 minute queue

The hipster brewer label was flogging £6 cans of booze

The Turbine Hall had meditations where you had to take off your shoes

You could go to the Tate 2 top floor to take in the views

I moaned with strangers who knicked my fags about our new New York skyline

The 17th floor where they work in town, the 12th floor in Hackney where they reside

On my way out the tate There was a rave with space for 200 people and 800 queueing outside

1in1out1in1out i left without breaking my stride

But the young art students were better than my generation

Better dressed, more respectful, an education built on

9k tuition fees that expire in 20 years they had no intention of paying back

it’s the 29 year olds who think they’re 19 that plan these corporate shitshows you have to watch out for

The boys in scarves and John Lennon 70s circle frames the girls catholic schoolgirl hermione whores

The ones who got straight A’s at school and never learned how to fail

They’re all a part of generation hogwarts

The not young not old bounce around, across the infinite town, the energy to visit four corners of a failed state city, SEEING NOTHING INBETWEEN – AN UBER FROM SOHO, BACK TO SOHO, More static in one direction than Yaya Sanogo friday nights at the old queens head doing the beyonce vs abba punk pogo.

BORN IN 89 – HUMAN PINBALL, BORN IN 91- HUMAN PINBALL, Bounce around town, like a pinball, play poker online – blow your windfall

BOUNCE TO WORK ON YOUR GYM BALL,

SEW TO BIKRAM ON A THIMBLE,

Small talk on tinder dates intermingle

Scared of strangers – why you’re single

STD HYPOCHONDRIA just a tingle

I’m stuck in your ear it’s a jingle

Three minutes in a circle it’s a single

I read it off the screen it’s a kindle

Austraaaaalian Question Intonation?

AQI in a needy tone hits the ear drum like a high hat cymbol

HOT YOGA TO EALING ON A FRIDAY NIGHT, IT’S A WASTED JOURNEY THAT’S KINDA SHITE, HALF YOUR FRIENDS ARE MARRIED IT’LL BE ALRIGHT

FLY TO PECKHAM ON A GRIME PLANE, YOU WOULDN’T LIVE THERE THAT’S INSANE, THREE STABBINGS LAST WEEK BUT TOURISTS CAN’T COMPLAIN,

I’m the old Testament Blakean Bacon Jew

Try to offend me and I’ll headfuck you

The Star of David in the night sky two triangles divide LIKE THE BATMAN SYMBOL

INDIE TO CAMDEN ON A SMACK THING, BEING AMY AND PETE IS THE EASY THING

CRANE TO THE 12TH FLOOR IN HACKNEY WICK, CRANE TO YOUR FLAT IN SHOREDITCH, IT’S A VIEW TO MAKE YOU FEEL SICK, the THIRD MAN ON THE FERRIS WHEEL HEART PINPRICK

BORN IN 89 – PINBALL, BORN IN 89, PINBALL, BORN IN 90 PINBALL, BORN IN 88 PINBALL

If you’re 29 and you can be mugged by a gang of 14 year olds you deserve it

If you’re 29 living off cheap coke and low scale IMDB tech crew credits you deserve it

If you’re 29 and working for the Tate or the Saatchi or the White Cube

To keep it a bad 90s coke and lager and ben sherman shirt

four walled white container bad middle class subtrainspotting indie daymare

you’re the problem

I’m born in 86 – simon from the inbetweeners meets my cheap shtick

I’m very good at pinball, but I try to be a hermit

I won’t weep if I run my mouth for now

She goes to sleep, I’ll toss and turn for a few more hours

The planes sweep clouds, the ozone layer goes

The wind is colder, the tap water sour

A dose of London Victoriana – switch back to 7pm

‘I’ll be at the faltering fullback in half an hour’

She’s 24 – Jack Bauer

Off a student diet of apple sourz she’s moved on to Whisky Sour

Defensive with sporadic glancing cuts I’m a silver fox – David Gower

I’ve got a jacket and my thick frame specs duh duh duh duh duh – Austin Powers

I’ve got hayfever she’s an April Shower With a patterned shirt that’s crisp n fresh she she’s a model for hippy post flower I’ll call her a keeper – Manuel Neuer

(It might be Neuer if that’d annoyer)

We say we like the same bands, but I’m too agreeable to what I see in the dawn as 6music white power

We’ll go for a ride past the the pleasure beach if we stick to fair ground – Blackpool Tower

With a fixed stare and hissing eyes when we walk to hers she’s got the Harringey glower

You need that in London these days

The city boys on 40k the dealers with two pas selling to the hip kids on the minimum wage Who think their arts h latest craze, a prolonged gap year that never pays

For their parents it’s a moral maze – Jimi Hendrix, the manic depression in the purple haze

They’re now extras in my purple patch, my schoolmates are getting on the property ladder while I’m semi detached

The monologue hits at 4:30am

She said ‘Well I’m a feminist but Thatcher’s a cunt’

Everyone says they’re a feminist but Thatcher’s a cunt

I bet she retweets – James Blunt

She has the political insight of Forrest Gump

Her parents are socialists who wants to lock em up young

And really proud their daughter marched against Trump

She’s the ultimate shy Tory- hasn’t told herself yet

I kick myself out at 5am Robbie Williams – no regrets

I can get called a baby face and act like I’ve been shown up

I can smoke til there are lines on my face and act like I’m a grown up

I can say my friends abandoned me when they don’t pick the phone up

I can drink til I’m spitelling and claim I haven’t thrown up

I can go to a gym class twice and tell myself I’m toned up

I can slag off the industry because the game is sewn up, I can see a stage full of hacks then ask why I haven’t blown up

I can tell a stranger my life story

That doesn’t mean they’ll fix it

I can tell a stranger my life story

That doesn’t mean they’ll fix it

The best case scenario is that we’ll Mark and Brix it

I can tell another the next week

Take the details and remix it

I can tell another the next week

Remix it and take the details

I take it can tell the week

Remix details the next and another

So you’ve been on a weekend break to Lisbon?

Well, I’m at my parents in an upper class prison

With the diagnosis to play the victim

It was 42 degrees due to nuclear fission?

Well, I’m at my parents in an upper class prison

With the diagnosis to play the victim

A pre-millenial social schism

(Faster x 3)

When I was 15 I would count my steps from the bus stop to school

1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8

I got so sick of it I started to count the letters

abcdedghabcdefgh

Then I did both together 1a2b13m8h

Now I can say the alphabet backwards in 4 seconds

Zyxwvutsrqponmlkjihgfedbca