Hi, I bet you can’t guess what this post is going to be about? Well, don’t worry, I’ll tell you. The 85th ‘Southside Podcast’ is now available to download, and what’s more, to listen to. Here is the official description for it – I say official description because obviously there’s a myriad of bogus, unofficial descriptions doing the rounds. Don’t be taken in by them. We don’t have an interview with Elvis Presley this week – that’s next week. Here’s what we do have:

This week’s podcast is garbage man! That’s a hilarious joke reference to the fact that we’ve got an interview with author Joseph D’Lacey about his highly acclaimed horror novel ‘Garbage Man’. The podcast is in fact far from garbage, for as well as Joseph D’Lacey, we hear from science fiction writer Alan Stevens with some advice about writing radio drama. Anti-wind-farm protester Jane Davis gives us her perspective on wind-farms and reveals some shocking revelations about their potential dangers that are not so well-known to the general public. Plus, presenter David Eagle revisits his quest to become the world’s greatest actor while taking on an all-new challenge. All shall be revealed when you “pod on” to the 85th Southside Podcast. POD ON!

Me again! So if you’re feeling a little bit sorry for me and want to try helping me out of this infernal pit of obscurity by downloading this week’s podcast, then you can do just that by clicking
here

Oy!!! You! I saw that! You just skipped past that link and refused to click it without a care in the world! Well you’ll be sorry. If I end up contracting swine flu then it’s your fault!

It’s Monday morning (well I know it’s not really Monday morning but I’d like you to suspend disbelief for me if you can. With not having a normal, steady 9-5 job to wake up to, self-motivation is essential. I therefore start my Mondays by attempting to rouse my spirits for the week ahead. This usually involves lots of stretching exercises, running, jumping and muttering to myself about how I’ve got to be organised, creative, strong-willed, email loads of people, call them, find work! Find work! Find work! Once I’ve finished this rather vigorous spirit rousing exercise, I usually then feel totally exhausted (what with the running and jumping) and so go back to bed for an hour, defeating the whole point of the routine. An hour later I wake feeling totally unmotivated about the day ahead. “Time for the spirit rousing exercises again” I think.

I love working. I don’t however enjoy looking for work – applying for jobs, sending off my CV etc. I find it easy to write a radio commercial for a company but impossible to sell myself. It gets a bit tedious and mundane. I therefore try to make the general mundaneity of such days into an imaginary dangerous and exciting adventure. Rather than simply turning on my computer to check emails, send emails, and make phone calls, I pretend I am on a vital mission.
“Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to find yourself more work. If you fail in your mission then the entire universe will be destroyed!”
“Accept it?! Accept it?! Of course I accept it!
I am David Eagle!!!” I defiantly declare before exiting the phone box – er, bathroom.

I rush up the stairs, invigorated by my essential worth and the importance of my role to society. ON the way, I get my foot caught in a belt that has been discarded on the stairs. In my head I pretend it’s a dangerous trap which has been set by the wanton universe destroyers in order to thwart my efforts. I struggle free from the complex nexus of wires and metal bars and cast it aside. I then rush into my room (sorry, the Eagle-Mobile) to type my important and immensely complicated technical data into the super computer. Damn! There seems to be a problem with the computer.

“Some files and programs on your computer failed to initiate properly. This is probably due to a virus or a form of malwear on your hard drive. We recommend that you update your virus software and scan for errors.”
“Damn! I’ve got a virus!” I try pressing keys on the computer and nothing happens. Well, I really do have a problem now. Then I remember my imaginary mission and for a fleeting moment, a small part of my mind tries to compose a pretend scenario.
“OK, so the evil universe destroyers are trying to corrupt my super computer …”. Then a loud beep from the computer brings me back to reality with a jolt.
“No!” I shout at myself “you’re deluding yourself. It’s not a super computer; it’s a cheap, old, rusty laptop. You’re not on a mission to save the universe; you’re trying to get work. You’re not a great, noble, important adventurer, you’re an idiot! An idiot!! Do you hear me?”
“Of course I hear you! You’re me speaking to myself from my mind, how can I not hear you. Do you have to shout so loud? I’m trying to fix the computer”.

After a few hours I’ve managed to fix the computer. By this point I’ve lost all my adrenalin from the spirit rousing routine of the morning and my pretend mission. All my energy has been sapped. I apologise to myself for shouting at me and go to bed.

Everything seems to go so slow. I spend a whole day making calls, sending emails, and starting/finishing projects. I then retire for the evening thinking that everything is going to be great. I’ve set the ground work, people apparently like what I’m doing, people sound positive, progress is being made. I wake up the next morning, excited about all the responses I’m going to have in my inbox, all the phone calls I’ll be receiving all through the day. I check my emails and there’s nothing. I wait for the phone to ring but it doesn’t. I check to make sure the phone is connected properly. It is. “Maybe there’s a problem with the phone, the ringer might be broke”. So I ring the landline with the mobile and it rings. I put the phone down and think, “Damn! I’ve probably just missed a call from someone really important now by doing that”.
I refresh my inbox. Still nothing. Maybe they’ve ended up going to my spam folder. I scroll relentlessly down my spam folder, a truly demoralising experience as it becomes apparent that the emails haven’t gone to my spam folder and as I read down a list of emails telling me that my penis is too small to satisfy my woman. Now I’m even more deflated. Not only have I got a small penis (apparently) but I’m also reminded that I haven’t got a woman to satisfy regardless of penis size. What’s the average size of a human penis? My mind starts to drift. “Maybe I should google it.” I’m brought back to reality with a jolt by a ringing phone. I jump to my feet, clear my throat and answer the phone by saying “hello”, trying to make my voice sound really important and cool as if I’m the kind of highflying success who gets phone calls all the while. “Hello” I say with one hand on the phone and the other hand typing random letters into the computer at great speed to give the impression that I’m important and working in a busy office environment, or even better, that the sound of the typing is from my personal secretary. “Hello” I say again as my first hello failed to elicit a response.
“Hello” comes the voice at the other end of the line “this is a free call from debt direct. This call will cost you nothing. Are you in debt?” comes the recorded message. I slam the phone down in frustration. I’m feeling even worse now. Not only did that phone call get my hopes up only to see them crashing back down to reality again but it also reminded me that I still haven’t paid off my student loan which is increasing due to interest.
Plus, I’m also annoyed because the recorded message was obviously recorded by a Voice Over artist. “Damn! Why does he get to do that job? Why can’t it be me? I could quite happily sell my voice to a company that’s going to use it to ring people up and annoy them! I’ve got no morals, I could do that”.
And what do they mean by “this is a free phone call. this call will cost you nothing”? They rang me! How many times do you pay for a call that someone makes to you? “Damn! I’ve probably missed an important call now thanks to that stuck up Voice Over reminding me about my lack of work and my financial debt to the government!” I turn back to my emails in frustration. Maybe during that phone call an email has come in from an employer. I then realise in horror that due to my pretend, important typing frenzy when taking the phone call, I’ve managed to accidentally send my load of gibberish typing as a reply to the penis people. They’ll probably think I’m interested and send me even more emails now. IN fact my email provider will probably assume that because I’ve replied, in future I want any penis related emails to go straight to my inbox. What a cock I am! All be it a very small one. Needless to say the day passes without a single call or email from these important people.

Then there is the dilemma of when to take my attempts to the next level. How long should I leave it before emailing or calling again? The reason I’m writing this blog post is because I’m getting to the end of my tether with this situation. I was asked to do some production work for a production company. I did the work and sent it off. Surprisingly, I got an email back the next day which simply said, “Hi Dave, what’s your phone number?” I duly responded with my contact information. This email was sent last Friday, 24th April. It’s now the 30th of April and I hadn’t received any contact from the company, as far as I was aware and so I decided that I would give them a call. I convinced myself that they had probably called and for some reason couldn’t get through. (After all, I’m a really busy person aren’t I?) I assumed by their instant response to my email with the production work attached that they were asking for my phone number to offer more work and arrange certain details with me. As the week went on I became more and more negative about the whole thing. Couldn’t they have at least given me some indication of whether the work I sent was what they wanted? Was it good? Did they like it? Then I began to think that maybe they had asked for my phone number merely to get me off their back and it was the classic case of “don’t call us, we’ll call you”. So I called them today. The conversation went thus:

Them: “Hello.”
Me: “Hello.”
(I didn’t really have to include that bit but I thought it would build the dramatic tension a bit.)
Me: “It’s David Eagle, hi. I don’t know whether you’ve been trying to get in touch with me or not over the last few days but apologies if you have, things have been a bit busy here.”
(There I am doing that pathetic “busy person” act again.)
Them: “yes we tried to call you but we must have missed you.”
Me: aaah! Right OK,” trying to hide the huge relief from my voice, “well …”.
Them: “Listen, we’re in the middle of a meeting right now, we’ll give you a call when we’ve finished right?”
Me: “Yes OK.”
Them: “Right, great, bye.”
Me: “Bye” (although they had all ready hung up before my “bye” could have got through – a shame really because it was a rather good “bye” as far as byes go.

That call was made at 1:30, it’s now 4:00. Are these people deliberately playing with my mind?

Byeeee!

P.S. No reply from Johnson Komo, my spam friend I wrote about in
my last blog post.Even he doesn’t reply to my emails and I’m offering him money!

Today I received the following email in my inbox from a Johnson Komo. I’ve never come across such a name in my life but as the email ended up in my inbox and not the spam folder I thought I would open it. After all, it could be an admiring fan. It wasn’t an admiring fan (but I bet you knew that anyway). The email reads as follows:

“My Dear one,

Permit me to inform you of my desire of going into
business relationship with you. I got your name and
contact from the Ivoirian chamber of commerce. I
prayed over it and selected your name among other
names due to its esteeming nature and the
recommendations given to me as a reputable and trust
worthy person that I can do business with and by the
recommendation, I must not hesitate to confide in you
for this simple and sincere business.

I am Johnson Komo the only Child of late Mr. and
Mrs.Joseph Komo. My father was a very wealthy cocoa
merchant in Abidjan , the economic capital of Ivory
coast, my father was poisoned to death by his business
associates on one of their outings on a business trip
..

My mother died when I was a baby and since then my
father took me so special. Before the death of my
father on october 2008 in a private hospital here in
Abidjan he secretly called me on his bed side and told
me that he has the sum of Ten million,five hundred
thousand United State Dollars.. USD ($10,500,000.00)
left in fixed / suspense account in one of the prime
bank here in Abidjan ,that he used my name as his only
Child for the next of Kin in depositing of the fund.
He
also explained to me that it was because of this
wealth that he was poisoned by his business ssociates.
That I should seek for a foreign partner in a country
of my choice where i will transfer this money and use
it for investment purpose such as real estate
management or hotel management .

Dear, I am honourably seeking your assistance in the
following ways:

(1) To provide a bank account into which this money
would be transferred to .
(2) To serve as a guardian of this fund since I am
only 20years.

(3) To make arrangement for me to come over to your
country to further my education and to secure a
resident permit in your country.

Moreover, Dear, i am willing to offer you 15% of the
total sum as compensation for your effort/ input after
the successful transfer of this fund into your
nominated account overseas.
Furthermore, you indicate your options towards
assisting me as I believe that this transaction would
be concluded within three (3) days you signify
interest to assist me. Anticipating to hear from you
soon.

Thanks and God bless.

Best regards,
Johnson Komo.”

Wow! So things are on the up for me it seems. Sounds good doesn’t it? So obviously I replied. I mean, I know a good deal when I see one. I replied with the following:

“Hello, normally, I wouldn’t give emails of this nature the time of day
but for some reason I felt compelled to read this one. I don’t know if
you’re aware of this but some people send emails kind of like the one
you sent me asking for bank details because they intend to steal money
from people’s accounts. That is why I generally ignore such emails
however when I’d finished reading your email I knew that this was no
scam and that you were fully genuine. In addition, I found it easy to
empathise with your situation as we appear to share a similar story.
Like you, my mother died when I was young and five years ago my father
was poisoned because of his wealth and power. I therefore had no
reason to doubt the plausibility of your situation and felt a desire
to help in anyway I can.

You mention that you got my contact details from the Ivoirian chamber
of commerce. I am flattered that they remember me and recommended me
to you. When I was younger I would sometimes go to parties held by the
commerce. I particularly remember a very eventful and memorable fancy
dress party they hosted. I also remember with great fondness
attending an Ivoirian chamber of commerce orgy. Great days!

Anyway, to get back to the point, after careful consideration I have
decided to give you my bank details so that you can store your
father’s money safely. I will also arrange accommodation for you for
when you move to this country. I also have a number of contacts at
some prestigious universities across the country and so will therefore
secure you a university placement studying a degree of your choice.
All I need from you now is for you to let me know what information you
need in order to access my bank account. I also need to know what university
degree you would like to study.

Finally, I would like to offer my condolences to you. I know how
terrible it is to lose a father through poison. Did the person who
poisoned your father get prosecuted? If not, then I can put you in
touch with a lawyer friend of mine who I am sure would help you fight
for justice.

I hope to hear back from you soon.

Best regards

John.”

So, we’ll see what happens. Lucky me! Looks like I might survive this credit crunch lark after all thanks to my good buddy Johnson Komo.

After sending this email I had a look on the internet to see if anyone had written anything about this Hoax. There were quite a few websites reporting similar emails with almost identical wording to mine. I felt cheated, used, and to think, I thought Johnson was my friend. What about all those things he’d told me? He said he’d got my name from the Ivoirian chamber of commerce. It all sounded so convincing (even though he never actually mentioned my name once and kept calling me “dear” fore some reason). Anyway, I found an excellent website
scamorama.com which deals with the subject of hoax emails in a very amusing way. Basically, they reply to these various emails under a comical pseudonym and string the scammers along for as long as they can. They even had an email very similar to the one from Johnson Komo. You can read how that conversation between scammee and scammer transpired
here. I also enjoyed
this one too.

Perhaps tomorrow will yield some response from Johnson Komo. I will of course let you know. In the meantime (while we wait) you can download a short sample from a radio show where I’m talking about the strange emails I get in my spam folder. As well as the obvious emails about penis extensions there’s also some unusual offers including a chance to purchase a DVD of dogs playing poker. The file is only three minutes long so you might as well
Download it. I mean, what harm can it do you? Exactly! Go on,
Download it!

Well I’ve kind of just thought of a dogs playing poker joke although I’m not really sure it works properly but you’re probably used to that by now so here goes:

Why did the dog keep losing the Poker game?

Answer: Because he kept getting a ruff deal!

What about:

Why did the dog keep beating the human at poker?

Answer: Because the dog had four hands and the human only had two.

Although you probably wouldn’t say that a dog has four hands – you would say four legs. Damn!

This is just a quick blog post to let you know that the 84th
Southside Podcast Has been uploaded and therefore is available to download. I know you’ve probably all ready subscribed to it and so you were aware of this but just in case there is someone out there who has managed to go through life ‘Southside Podcast’ free I thought I better mention it. You can download it
here. this is the description for this week’s offering:

“Welcome to the eco friendly Southside Podcast as we speak about alternative transportation, sustainable energy and renewable sources with Heather Parry from Fodder – the pioneering environmentally friendly eatery. Our New York correspondent Peter Franklin (gabby.com) talks to us from a transatlantic toilet about gun crime, clowns and Luton Town football Club. Sir Patrick Moore gives some advice for novice star gazers. Actress and fashion guru fiona curzon (fionacurzoncollections.co.uk) recounts an ongoing saga about her attempts to join a London based hospital radio station to no avail. Plus David eagle explains why he is viewed as a hero among the taxi driving fraternity and attempts to sell his talents to BBC Radio 4. And there’s more! Pod on to be enlightened.”

Before I end up drifting to sleep at the computer I’ll quickly end with a complimentary taxi driver joke.

“What is a taxi driver’s favourite vegetable?”

answer: “Cabbage”.
Get it? Taxi cab, cab-age! Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!

Byeeeee

I was planning on writing quite a bit today but I’ve got the 84th Southside Podcast to package by Friday afternoon before I head off to a gig in Leeds. I’ll talk more about my gigging shenanigans in more detail at some point in the future (see? The future really is bright!). Anyway, even though I’m not going to write about what I intended to write about for this post, I will still provide the audio clip that pertained to the thing I was going to write about.

My post was going to be about radio presenting nightmares. I work for a radio station that is partly involved in training up wannabe radio presenters. As I do a lot of editing for podcasts I am given all the programs, reports and interviews to sift through in order to locate the best bits for podcast inclusion. Obviously now and again (I get a cruel streak) and include some of the more cringe worthy broadcasting moments made by the new, trainee presenters, just for a cheap and easy laugh. Now and again though I am lucky to come across an example of nightmare radio presenting that is made by the more established talent. On such occasions, , my cruel streak will invariably rear its head and their ineptitudes will be be played (relentlessly) for the world to hear. Obviously, if ever I was to make a mistake then I have the power to edit it out which I duly do. Well I’ve got to have some perks in this job, especially when you consider the wage I’m on.

I’ve provided an example of some classic car crash radio that I featured (with great delight) on a previous Southside Podcast for you to download. A group of reporters went to Earls Court to cover
the France Show which is an event that celebrates French culture. Sadly, it transpires that the French language skills of the three reporters were rather under par, in fact (more or less non-existent) and so communication was more than a little fraught at times. This seemed to completely frazil the brains of the presenters who then struggled to even string sentences together in English. It becomes clearly apparent that the only French phrase the reporters know is “c’est magnifique” which they clearly demonstrate by repeating it over and over again in spite of it having no actual relevance to the subject matter at hand.

You can hear the whole embarrassing episode
here
Merci, au revoir – as you can tell I’m a bit of an expert when it comes to French.

Today I was doing some research on the website of a local radio station that I am potentially doing some production bits for (that I’m not allowed to tell you about so that’s going to make for highly exciting blog material). Like a lot of websites they include a variety of online poles at the end of each page. Normally this has something to do with gauging your opinion on some local issue, for instance, “Which local premiership league football team do you think will be relegated this season?”. As I’m based in the northeast of England, the likely answer is all of them, no doubt resulting in even more job losses for the region (O I’m on top comic form today!). I’m not sure whether the most recent pole is meant as a joke or not (I don’t do jokes) but the current pole on the website is: “Do you ever enter online polls?” If this is a joke then congratulations to the team of highly trained joke maestros for that. I thought commercial radio stations were meant to be cutting costs but evidently not as such a joke surely must have come at a princely price. They’re probably paying them in easy to manage instalments although they’ll be tied up in debt for years for hiring talent like that to write for them. Anyway, I thought I’d give you a little treat today and include something that is actually funny in contrast to my usual ramblings.

Well I was going to end the blog post there but I’ve just had a look at some of the results for previous poles that the station have done. Astoundingly, in answer to the question “Are you interested in the US Presidential elections?” 69% thought that the American election results didn’t affect them because “America is miles away”. In another pole, 78% think that Middlesbrough FC will be relegated this season. One pole on the site says “We all love crisps, but which flavour is your favourite???”. Don’t worry, I wouldn’t dream of mentioning such a pole without providing you with the full summary of results. OK, place your bets. According to the survey, 12% prefer Ready Saulted, a mere 10 % choose meat related crisps, 24% espouse cheese and onion, Prawn cocktail manages to take 26% of the votes but just nudging ahead, shocking though it may seem, salt and Vinegar takes the prize with 27 %. Celebrations in the Lineker camp! Surprisingly, the subject of crisps seemed to resonate with the north-eastern voters unlike the great jam debate which sadly paled into total insignificance. “What’s jam best on?” asks the pole but the public refuse to give their opinion on such a matter. Perhaps they fear the consequences of voting. Perhaps there is a jam dictatorship going on and people are being pressured not to vote. Either way, something underhand has to be going on because this pole failed to receive a single vote. All three categories (in spite of their undoubted high-interest factor) failed to elicit any response. “Jam on bread” sees 0%, as does the “jam on toast” option. 0 % is also the result in the “I don’t like jam” category. Surely there must have been something wrong with the computer that day. Perhaps someone forgot to switch it on and so the results were not calculated or maybe the computer couldn’t handle the surge of voters who rushed to their computers to vote. Also I imagine that many voters tried to cheat the system by attempting multiple votes resulting in terrifying anarchy causing the computer to overload and finally crash. Maybe one day, a super computer will be built that can handle such a voting spree. Until that day, the great jam debate must remain an intriguing mystery. Perhaps the answer will not even come in our lifetime. Still, it’s probably for the best. I imagine the revelation will end up causing a major war. I shudder to think (which is one of the reasons I tend not to).

I’m rubbish! I assumed that because I felt I had an inordinate amount of drivel to supply the world with that I would immediately take to this blogging thing like a duck to water. It turns out that there has either been a dramatic revolution in the duck way of life (and ducks are no longer as keen on water as they once were; it would help the economy if they also disassociated themselves from bread considering the increase in price) or that my duck hypothesis was flawed. I assume the latter but if any duck enthusiasts (I’m talking about the legal kind of course) would like to get in touch to assist with this pointless matter then please do. Perhaps this would be an appropriate moment for a duck joke? No? O well never mind, here goes anyway.

How do you turn a duck into a soul singer?

I’ll reveal the punch line to that joke at the end of this blog post as a reward for reading. So as I was saying, I’d have assumed that blogging would merely be another way for me to incessantly ramble about nothing at all, kind of like I do on the radio. It transpires that I have a proclivity of doing such-like when speaking but I find it much more difficult to convey ideas in writing. “So keep writing for god’s sake and give up the talking!” I hear you cry. I don’t appear to be taking heed of such advice as the latest
Southside Podcast can demonstrate. Sadly there is no mention of ducks but there are pigs. Here’s the included written description of
this week’s podcast in case you needed anymore reasons to not listen:

“This week: Science fiction with David Howe ‘Telos Publishing’ (telos.co.uk), television director Graeme Harper on Doctor Who, Robin Hood as well as his
opinions on recent televisual upheavals. We talk wing-walking and anthropomorphosized flying pigs with PR specialist Rachel Huxford. Plus there’s real-life
drama courtesy of Facebook, the truth behind the credit crunch, a David Eagle rant about mobile phones and possible attempted communications from the dead
to contend with. O! And then there’s our new revolutionary catchphrase! … “POD ON!””

I’m going now but I am going to try and write an update every single day. I also need to work on promoting this damn thing when I finally get more material up on here. At the moment I haven’t actually told anyone that this exists and so if you’re reading this then you are a pioneer, an explorer, or simply a very lonely person with nothing better to do. Still, you get to discover the end of the duck joke so I guess things are looking up for you.

So … How do you turn a duck into a soul singer?

Answer: Put it in the microwave until its bill withers!
Get it?
Bill Withers!
Well I imagine you’re all quacking up right now! Hahahahahahaha!

Byeeeeeee!

P.S. RIP
Sir Clement Freud Although I’ve interviewed
Nicholas Parsons a few times I never spoke to clement Freud, despite the fact that he was in the room next door to Nicholas during one of the interviews. It’s such a shame as he’d have probably lived for another twenty years if he’d only had the revitalising joy of hearing my duck joke. Heyho!

Due to lack of internet access I have been unable to post regular blogs. I’ve had to steal next door’s wireless internet connection whenever I needed to use the internet. I use the word steal since they aren’t aware that I am using it and I didn’t go round to ask for permission. I assume that they don’t read this blog so my secret remains safe. I would imagine that they haven’t read my blog since if they had done they would surely have come round on a daily basis laden with gifts to show their gratitude towards me for providing them with such entertaining and informative insights in to that crazy little thing we call life.

Anyway, you can hear more about my devious wireless thieving antics, along with Sir Jimmy Savile sharing his ‘Rolling Stones’ and Elvis Presley anecdotes and informing us that he’s never played a record in his whole broadcasting career by
downloading this week’s Southside Podcast!

If you enjoy it then my neighbours are partly to thank since it is there internet connection that is allowing me to upload it for you. If you don’t like it then I’ll let my neighbours take full responsibility.

Have a good Friday! Oo! I’ve just thought up a rubbish joke to leave you with. What about a special TV show for the Easter season hosted by Jimmy Savile called ‘Jim’ll Crucifix It?’ … no? OK then … bye.

At first I thought it was an April fool. I switched on my computer to get on with some production work and everything went wrong. I assumed that the fooling would abate after twelve midday but alas, no such luck. I tried informing the computer that traditionally April fools were only valid before midday (which I was always told when I was younger, although this was probably my parents telling me this in the hope that I would have stopped my fooling by the time I got home from school) but the computer wasn’t listening. It continued fooling all the way through the day and night and all through the next day too.

I try not to get annoyed. I try taking deep breaths. I try imagining nice things – birds, flowers and pretty things that look nice, but that only acts to remind me that I’m blind and so I give that up as a bad job. I try imagining nice sounds but it doesn’t take long before the bloody tweeting birds in my head start to irritate me and so I give that up too.

I start to go mad. As I just mentioned, I am blind, therefore my computer talks to me. After a few hours in front of a computer that doesn’t do what it’s supposed to do and keeps on talking to me (telling me that it’s not going to do what it’s supposed to do) it becomes difficult to rationalise that the computer is not an evil sentient entity, deliberately antagonising me. After awhile I begin to get paranoid. In my head the voice takes on a personality. Its intonation changes to reflect my feelings. I imagine the computer is goading me, laughing at me, deliberately refusing to do what I ask it to do. Eventually I start to talk back to the computer. I start to threaten it as if it were able to hear my warnings. It reciprocates with more error codes, but in my head it’s different. Instead of error codes, I’m hearing more goading, jeering and belittling. It’s tearing into my soul, my very core.

after a prolonged period of malfunctioning from the computer I start to talk to it as if it were a person. This generally starts off as an inquisitive question to the computer as to why it insists on being an arse. As time goes on I get more threatening and launch a verbal onslaught unto the computer, but surprisingly it doesn’t respond with anything that I consider to be satisfactory.. If the problem persists then I often start to act out the part of the computer and have a full conversation with it. I don’t have a specific accent for the computer although I generally do give it some kind of voice. A sensible approach I think; It would be rather embarrassing if I got myself and the computer confused. And so I’m sitting in a room by myself with the computer, shouting threats to it. This is then followed by me reciprocating in the voice of the computer giving me some cocky reason why it refuses to co-operate. I don’t know why I do this, and I wonder whether anyone else does this?

If the problem persists further and I am really having a bad day then I will start to blame god for the problems. I suppose I am looking for someway to rationalise the problems and so I pick on God. I don’t particularly believe in a God but I find it much more rewarding and fruitful to shout at God than blame a random, unconnected series of particles for my pains. A random series of particles can’t really answer back. Again, after awhile of God bating I start to get frustrated that (like with the computer) I am not receiving any satisfactory answers back. Therefore, I will start to play the part of god, and so I end up having an imaginary, animated conversation with God. He threatens to damn me to hell which doesn’t go down well with me I can tell you. Sometimes these conversations with God will start getting theological. I mean it’s not everyday you get to talk to god is it? It would be a shame to waste the opportunity. So I start asking a series of deep theological questions to God. His answers leave a lot to be desired, to be frank.

Recently, I came across a recording of one of my angry outbursts. Until this point I had never heard how ridiculous these outbursts actually sounded. Obviously, I was hearing them while they happened but I’d never really heard an outburst in the calm and rational light of the future, when it no longer mattered. When I heard this recording I burst into hysterical laughter. I ended up playing some of the recording out on one of my
a Young’uns Podcast.
I got loads of people writing to say that it was one of the funniest things they’d ever heard, certainly the funniest thing that I had ever done. I was pleased of course but a little bemused and disappointed that this random, unscripted angry outburst (which generally consists of me maniacally and incomprehensibly stuttering) was apparently funnier than all of the features and sketches I had actually taken the time to sit down and write but heyho! br />
In this clip I am getting annoyed at the telephone for refusing to connect a call to a guest who was meant to be featuring on one of the podcasts. After repeatedly trying (without success) to connect the call I start shouting at the telephone operator who’s automated voice with it’s repeated negative announcements was seriously starting to exacerbate my anger. The title of this blog post, “You get paid enough, I’ll rip off your head” is one of the many facile comments I angrily come out with during this clip. Thank goodness the operator was automated, otherwise I’d probably have been arrested by now. You can listen to it

Remember this is by many accounts the funniest thing I’ve ever done, so if you don’t like this then there’s not much hope to be honest.