Download today’s audio Dollop here

Download the audio version of today’s Dollop here

I bit my lip again today. I say again, because, as Dollop regulars will obviously remember, I marked my last lip biting episode in a previous Dollop entitled The Pain Inducing Hubris Of The Autonomic Nervous System, which was of course, Dollop nerds? Yes that’s right, Dollop 260. Give yourself a Dollop point Dollop nerds. Dollop points can be readily transferred into free consultation time at a psychiatric clinic, which let’s face it, will probably come in handy.

In Dollop 260 I wrote, “I seem to bite my lip about once every six weeks.” This was purely a conjecture. However, one good thing about doing these Dollops is that I am able to bite my lip and then check when the last time was that I bit my lip. This perk certainly makes all the work worthwhile.

So my prediction was a lip bite a bout every six weeks, and if these statistics are anything to go by, this is about right. Obviously this isn’t in anyway definitive, given that I only have two lip-biting episodes diarised, however the exciting news is that the next time I bite my lip I will be able to gain more of an idea of the frequency of these lip-biting incidents. If the current trend continues then I should bite my lip again before the end of the year and before the end of this project (by which I mean the end of the David’s Daily Digital Dollop project, as opposed to my lip-biting analysis project, which is merely in its first stage). Rest assured though, if my next lip biting happens after the Dollops have finished, then obviously I will release a special bonus Dollop in order to journal this.

I’m sure that the majority of you reading this are very excited about this additional element of drama to the Dollops, and many of you might be frustrated that I didn’t start this from the beginning of the year; after all, it’s a wasted opportunity, and with the benefit of hindsight I agree. However, I am aware that there may be some of you who aren’t quite as enthused by this as you should be. There may even be some of you who fail to see any point or interest in this lip-biting journling idea at all, and just wish that I’d shut up about it and move to something more exciting, like WIFI kettles. But hang on a minute, because this project potentially has a very practical use. If I discover that I bite my lip about once every forty days, then maybe I can do something to combat this accidental lip biting altogether. In Dollop 260, where I last talked about this subject, I mused about why this seems to happen every six weeks or so. After all, my brain clearly knows what it’s doing and how to eat, yet now and again it seems to malfunction and I bite my lip. If I discover that this happens every forty days, then perhaps I can eradicate these lip-biting incidents by paying more conscious attention to my eating around day forty for the next couple of days, or maybe we make an even more startling discovery and deduce that it occurs cyclically every forty days.

Who knows, we might even discover that this forty day lip-biting cycle is universally applicable, and my groundbreaking scientific discovery might lead to a complete eradication of lip-biting. No more split lips, no more ulcers and blisters. So think on that when you ridicule my project, because you won’t be so cocky when I’m receiving the Nobel Prize for science. Who knows what might happen. This discovery could take me to places. The world is my oyster, and I’ll be able to eat that oyster without any fear of a lip-biting incident, thanks to my amazing life changing work.

Sometimes the Dollops are a work of comedy genius, other times they are paradigm shifting and life altering. There is just no knowing.

Download today’s audio Dollop here

Download today’s audio Dollop here

Download today’s audio Dollop here

Download today’s audio Dollop here

Download today’s audio Dollop here

Download the audio version of today’s Dollop here

I am ill, hence the hilarious and ever so clever Dollop title. Ill, as in the medical sense of the word, rather than the more positive, urban, street, bad-ass way, although, let’s be honest, I tick that box as well. Just to make sure I haven’t confused things even more here with my attempts of clarification, by bad-ass, that is also meant in the urban, street sense; I don’t have anything wrong with my ass. Sorry, I just thought I better clarify that when I said “I don’t have anything wrong with my ass,” I meant that I don’t have anything wrong with my backside, as opposed to referring to my donkey, who is, incidentally, now we’re on the subject, feeling a tad under the weather at the moment. I just thought I better explain that in case I’d managed to add further confusion in my attempts to offer further clarification about my first clarification. So just to be clear then: I am ill, in the medical sense rather than the urban, street, bad-ass sense, but my illness has nothing to do with my backside.

Sorry, I know that was a bit of a ridiculous opening paragraph, but in my defence, I am ill. Also in my defence, it’s very difficult to write today’s Dollop as the three of us are in The tiny Young’uns van, which is so cramped that I have to angle the laptop so that it’s side on with half of it on my lap and half on Michael’s lap. If I have the laptop straight then it blocks Sean’s access to the gear stick, and while I’d admit that you might be able to describe this as a car crash Dollop, at least it’s only figuratively so, whereas one false move with the laptop …

Just imagine what would happen if we did have a fatal crash. The police would find my laptop perched on top of our dead bodies, and when they read what was on the screen, they’d find the first paragraph of today’s Dollop, and tears of great sorrow would well up in their eyes, as they considered what a tragic loss the literary and comedy world had just suffered.

Fortunately, I’m generally managing to keep the laptop away from any of the driving controls, although there have been a few near misses on the occasion that Michael coughs or sneezes, causing the precariously perched laptop to fly to the side and towards Sean. I hope you appreciate the kind of sacrifices I make for you with this project. These half-hearted, cobbled together semi-jokes about donkeys and backsides are being generated under life threatening conditions, so think on that before you judge.

We may have managed to stay alive, but I feel like death, as I have a massive cold, a really sore throat and a headache. There is no time to rest however and recover because we have been performing all day at Hartlepool Folk festival. After a whole day of events, we are now in the van heading to Burnley. We should arrive in Burnley at 1230. We then have to be up at 8 to start another five days of songwriting with school children.

Even though I’ve been feeling terrible all day, I seem to miraculously improve when it’s time to perform, and I get a massive adrenalin kick while I’m on stage, meaning that the pain completely disappears. This is very useful, but it means my body punishes me big time after each performance, and I am now feeling really shit. Fortunately the thought of spending a week in the company of hundreds of small children shouting “bum” and “poo” in my face is cheering me up no end, and is obviously a great medicinal tonic. Bloody hell, the thought is almost making me consider angling my laptop to the right slightly and bringing on the sweet release of death. Tune in tomorrow to find out what happens.

Download today’s audio Dollop here

Download the audio version of today’s Dollop here

Exciting news Fiona, I’m on another train. The ticket for my journey is an electronic one that I have downloaded onto my phone through an app. This is the first time I have tried this. At the time that the app suggested this option to me, it seemed like a good idea, but now I’ve just remembered that my screen is severely cracked, and although the phone is still useable for me, as I don’t need to see the screen, it’s very difficult for someone to actually see what’s on it. I am therefore a bit unsure as to whether they will accept my ticket as valid if they can’t really see it.

Perhaps the ticket inspector will think that this is an elaborate scam, and that I deliberately smashed my screen so as to be able to execute my fraudulent plan. But in fairness, this would be a highly elaborate way around not paying for a train ticket, or at least certainly if you relied on sight to use the phone, as you’d have to be sure that the price of getting a valid ticket would be less than the cost of repairing your phone’s severely cracked screen, otherwise it would be a completely pointless exercise. If I do get away with it though, then perhaps in future I can simply have a photo of a ticket on my cracked screen, and I will then be able to travel for free all the time. And given that I can still use the phone without needing to see the screen, I won’t be inconvenienced in the slightest, whereas a sighted person trying this trick would have to get their phone repaired after the scam had been carried out. Oh yes my friends, yet another amazing perk of being blind; Pretend not to be jealous.

In fact, if you are a regular commuter then you might want to consider blindness as a lifestyle choice, as it would be a highly effective money saving initiative. If you became blind then you’d automatically benefit from free bus travel, and then, even if on rare occasions your cracked screen train ticket dodging scam doesn’t work, you’d get a third off the price of your ticket anyway, thanks to the disabled person’s rail card that you would now be eligible for. The more I give this thought, the more logical this idea is. I can’t believe Martin Lewis and his cronies haven’t thought of this one yet.

In fact, the more I think about it, the more I believe that blindness could be a great economic initiative for the UK as a whole. We could completely fix and even significantly boost our country’s economy if everyone became blind. Seriously. For a start, just think of all the money we’d save once we turned off all the lights. Just think how much of a strain we’d take off the NHS if we didn’t have to worry about eye care. Just think how much energy we’d save by turning off all the television channels and transmitters. Come on people, ask not what your country can do for you … It’s time to get blind for Britain. If you really want to make Britain great, then you know what you need to do? Plus if we are all blind then it automatically solves all the xenophobia and racism in the country, because no one will be able to see colour and thus there would be no discernible difference between any of us. So blindness would essentially create a completely egalitarian, problem free utopia. There would be no more need for art galleries, which means the space could be used to house people, thus blindness would essentially eradicate homelessness. I defy any of you to come up with a single valid reason for why this isn’t the most incredible idea for our country.

“Where there is no vision, the people shall perish,” says the bible. But quite frankly, Jesus was talking out of his arse (one of his less appreciated miracles, although it always went down a treat during parties, especially on those nights when water was turned into wine). But the bible has it completely wrong (which I know may come as a bit of a shock, as obviously it’s normally so bang on the money, especially all those lengthy passagers about dirty menstruating women). But actually, the opposite is true: “where there is no vision, the people shall prosper!”

So, people of Britain, we really can make Great Britain great. If you want to boost our economy and live in a more enlightened world of social equality and peace, then you know what you need to do. Everything I’ve outlined for our country is possible, and I’m sure you are all very excited. But we need to be more than excited, it’s time to be ex-sighted. You see what I did there? Well, yes you did, and that’s the problem. So, come on friends, what are you waiting for? Let’s play a blinder for Britain. It’s time for … The Great British Blind Off!