Saturday, January 21, 2006
SELLING MY BODY TO THE NIGHT PART TWO
Well, my recent dreams that will come true post went down like the proverbial lead balloon, so it is probably best to stick to the same path of reader alienation. I should say that the disturbing dreams are at least preferable to my frequent episodes of sleep paralysis, which seem to have subsided for the time being.
ANOTHER CASE STUDY
Sunday night: I am preparing to do a comedy sketch which will be beamed round the world in that same way as the Beatles singing "All You Need Is Love" in 1967. I am the support act to ... Frank Skinner who will be singing a couple of standards in the Frank Sinatra style (I know. Few things could be worse). God I'm nervous, but am applying and re-applying my make up like Pete Burns on Celebrity Big Brother. My foundation is several shades too light.
The show is being held in the grounds of a hotel on the south coast (it seems to be in Herne Bay) and it is a freezing cold but sunny day. I'm in the hotel room when someone pops their head around the door. It is fiery ball of energy, Scots singing poppet Lulu, who has an announcement.
"I'm sorry, but you and Frank may as well go home. Your services are not required any more. It's been decided that my son is going to be singing some of his songs instead"
A smug smile plays on her lips.
"He's such a talent, my boy".
I wake up before I get the chance to throttle her.
ANOTHER CASE STUDY
Sunday night: I am preparing to do a comedy sketch which will be beamed round the world in that same way as the Beatles singing "All You Need Is Love" in 1967. I am the support act to ... Frank Skinner who will be singing a couple of standards in the Frank Sinatra style (I know. Few things could be worse). God I'm nervous, but am applying and re-applying my make up like Pete Burns on Celebrity Big Brother. My foundation is several shades too light.
The show is being held in the grounds of a hotel on the south coast (it seems to be in Herne Bay) and it is a freezing cold but sunny day. I'm in the hotel room when someone pops their head around the door. It is fiery ball of energy, Scots singing poppet Lulu, who has an announcement.
"I'm sorry, but you and Frank may as well go home. Your services are not required any more. It's been decided that my son is going to be singing some of his songs instead"
A smug smile plays on her lips.
"He's such a talent, my boy".
I wake up before I get the chance to throttle her.
Comments:
Once we were in holiday in Herne Bay - my Dad nipped out to get some milk - four hours later, he returned having won a pub talent show......
This is true....
This is true....
Wyndham - it feels as though it lasts for a few minutes, but in reality it's only about 30 seconds. The worst thing is not being able to breath, although now I've sort of cottoned on to what's happening even though I'm asleep and know that I'll wake up eventually with my heart beating 19 to the dozen. It hasn't happened for a few months now but I don't want to tempt fate ...
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