Being Me

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Watch me defending the colon.  Poetic pedantry in bodily form. Yes, I'd like to know why Fran thinks the colon is like a baby seal

Talking about married life, here's me performing one of my new poems 'Pickle Aisle Bride' recently.  I posted an early version of the poem on the blog a few weeks ago - it has evolved! Sure, I've got 3 minutes to watch Fran perform a poem about getting married in a supermarket

Have you heard about the new marriage service that is being introduced soon as a response to complaints that the current one on offer is a little too unrealistic and doesn't reflect modern life? I quote directly from the 'Book of Common Problems'. Minister turns to groom Do you, Michael, take Julia to be your lawful wedded wife? Will you love her, comfort her, honour and protect her? Will you take her to the cinema to see films like Love Actually Without doing that thing where you stick your fingers down your throat? Will you wait patiently in Monsoon while she tries on thirteen dresses And never say, ‘That one makes you look a bit mumsy’? Will you promise faithfully not to clean your ears with the serviette while at family dinners round her mother’s And then show everyone the gobbet of wax and say ‘Oh well, better out than in!’ Will you let her eat your chips even though she says she’s on a diet And, forsaking all sideways glances at Rihanna whe...

I wrote an article for the TES Magazine (used to be the Times Educational Supplement) about what to do in the last five minutes of a lesson and how John Bunyan was inspired to write an allegory of the typical English lesson called 'Pilgrim's Progress'. You can read it if you like. Fran's article, with reference to Bunyan Although it's obviously a more minor text, you could also read Pilgrim's Progress, if you fancy it. Bunyan's 'Pilgrim's Progress' with no reference to Fran whatsoever Bunyan was distraught - his new book had just gone off to the printer and he realised that he had forgotten to mention Fran.  Who's going to read it now? he thought, in despair.

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Diary of my weekend: Saturday morning:  Rehearse for evening's gig.  Practise in front of mirror for 3 seconds holding a Sure deodorant as a microphone and trying to make 'I'm relaxed' faces.  Practise without mirror. Saturday afternoon: Go and see granny in care home.  (My Granny, not just anyone's - I don't just drop in and demand to visit an octogenarian on a whim.)  Accept offer of cup of tea from one of the carers.  Tell her 'just milk, no sugar, please'. Drink tea with fourteen sugars in, trying to keep a normal face, eg one that doesn't look like a cat's anus. Saturday evening: Do gig.  Do poem about apostrophes, then one about colons, then read out a chapter from my book which has the phrase 'glamour model' in it.  (Don't ask.)  Pronounce it as 'grammar model'.  Carry out tricky backtracking manoeuvre and just about get away with it. Sunday morning: Go to church in a pub, and sing songs to God while looking at ...