How Midsomer Norton Apologized For Swearing OR Jancis Goes to Les Miserables

On QN, we always tell an intresting story to warm up. My stories have been things such as the time my kiss made a girl faint .
This is how I got an apology from a village.
So my mum, sister and I are heading to Bristol to see the touring ‘Les Miserables’ show. I’m in the back as my sister can supposedly navigate (She only screwed up like...four times. But we were going to eat her if we got stuck in the woods so it all works out). Anyway, we drive through the village of Midsomer Norton when I noticed a sign advertising the country music festival. But they were trying to be cool and...well they didn’t spell country like that.
And because I’m a big posh actor with plums in my mouth this popped into my head
So I tweet: Oh Christ, Midsomer Norton! I don't care if you're trying to be "street" for your music festival, NEVER try to spell country like that!

And as we pull into Bristol’s carpark when I receive a reply from a man in that village. (He must have alerts on his village...whoop?)
Oh dear... dare I ask how we spelling it? (Can't find anything on google)
Something not on Google?!
So I reply from the pub. (Best place to do such things).
Without the O. It reminds me of Hamlet and speaking of country matters while lying in laps.
And as I leave the theatre I get this:
Well, on behalf of all Midsomer Norton residents I apologise. Although it will look funnily rude on the posters....
Isn’t that something? I, Thomas Jancis, have been given an entire village's respect. Too bad so many people get killed there in such strange ways. Oh well, danger of the Midsomers I guess. It's why I never eat damson jam. Too many dead vicars.
And who knew it was funnily rude? That’s a term! "Look, your daughter isn't really a cumdumpster. I'm funnily rude!"
No complaint or offence taken. I shall take joy that the village offers it. Just hope you are not assaulted by spoilsports.
I need to apologise, because when it comes to spelling I get really annoyed by bad spelling :-)
Ah, it wasn’t the spelling that got me.
I was more worried about the people who will go expecting a whoreshow. I really do worry for them. I mean, I’m sure the show will be good times for all but sometimes you just want something else completely. Or maybe it will be a nice mixture of both. You get worked up by some real intense bluegrass and then Ping-Pong Patrice comes on.

Now onwards to some funnyish remarks on the reason for the trip.

1. Best Unintentionally Amusing Moment
   So Valjean is shunned by the public for his past. A kindly priest takes him in and gives him food and a place to sleep. Valjean pays him back by robbing him but is soon caught. How? He does this!
   Let me explain for those who might not have got that. Valjean is not narrating. He is screaming at the top of his voice as he runs down the street.
   Okay, that maybe a lie. But no other time does the character narrate like that. If they sing, they’re speaking. Or screaming. So he is just sprinting down the street going: I JUST ROBBED THE PRRRRRIEST!!!!!1!11! Thus I award Valjean the highly converted ‘Worst Thief Ever’ Award.
   Run up has to be this moment which is a perfect example of “I CAN SHOUT LOUDER THAN YOU! LA LA LA! I’M NOT LISTENING!” (There are many more amusing moments in this play. Please list them if you like.)
   
2. Best Extra Adlib

So Fantine is being called a whore (I’ve said whore a lot in this post, haven’t I?). The crowd clamours for him to be fired.
And over the hubbub, one very camp young man cried with utter repulsion ‘IT’S DISGUSTING!!!!’.
He is my new favourite extra.

3. Best Actor Adlib

So Marius wants Eponine to find out where Cosette lives.
She said she would and I think Gareth Gates was late on his cue because he kinda of squeaked ‘THANKS!’ and legged it!
A lovely example of 18th centaury KTHXBAI!!!
Marius. What a charmer!


4. Best Timing

Eponine. Dead. ‘A Little Fall of Rain’! As the theatre is quiet, all we can hear is the pouring of the rain that has only now hit the theatre. We were all looking around going ‘That’s really good timing.’
Except for the massive man who seemed to look for the strange sound for about eight minutes. This guy really didn’t want to be there and so wiggled and shuffled for most of the show. Blocked everyone's view and kept having to get out his drink. KEEP IT OUT IF YOU NEED IT SO MUCH!
You don’t have to be there you know?
If there is one thing more annoying than people who can’t respect the fact there are others around them it’s:

5. Worst Timing

As an actor I can safely say one thing. Switch. Your. Goddamn. Motherloving. Phone. OFF! I will hurt you. I will wait until you have a baby and I will take that baby and I will train it in evil then make it steal your kidneys. Don’t think I won’t. I wear goggles for fun!
I didn’t want to see Gareth Gates stumble just as he started ‘Empty Chairs at Empty Tables’. Well done kid, just blew that moment of tension.
Hope it was worth it. It’s not like you were told to switch it off!
At least it’s not just me who gets annoyed.


6. Other

• Eponine still has a bitching hat.
  
  I want it
• Poor ol' Enjolras fell into a wheelbarrow when he died. Which, hell he's still wrapped in the flag but he kinda of tosses his flag away, falls over and lands in a wheelbarrow. Made it easier to wheel him off!
  
  

So that's that. I have the love of a small village (No. Not just one man. The WHOLE place. I feel the love and will make them my followers).
Comments below.

Spring Awakening: The Tale of the Philosophising Teenage Rapist and His Suicidal Gay Friend

So I’ve had a quick shower in my crappy shower cubicle, put on my PJs and am already for beddy-bies.
When all of a sudden I think “I should tell people what happened in my week!”
So wrapped in a dressing gown and wearing some nice slippers, I shall catch you up on my adventures.

For you JanFans (That is all your official names I have decided apart from Mark who is a JanManFan) who simply have come here to hear about my novel, I can tell you at 10:42 on the 22 November 2008 the word count stands at 37824 (76% done).
Twelve thousand words in eight days.
Can I do it?
I should bloody hope so.
I’ve been a real bastard for the last month. “Sorry I can’t come drinking. I have a book to write. Hmm? No, I don’t drink. Eh? No, I just like watching people being drunk. You see I am a really horrible guy who finds you being stupidly pissed funny. Then I like being able to remember it and flaunt it over you.”

Also I have started adding people into my book without getting permission. BECAUSE I CAN. Sarah and Mark have a completely pointless chapter about them but its quite bizarrely funny.
What do you mean you want a quote?
Oh for frell’s sake.
“She began to kick at the birds who were vainly trying to get to the bag by jumping and flapping. Their lack of flight was clearly hindering their mugging abilities.”
You happy now?
Bloody hell.

So that’s NaNoWriMo.
Now we move onto the play.

So a few weeks back my teacher for acting asked me if I had a job. When I said no, he said would I like to be in the second year play? So I said yes and I got to meet the Second Year for their performance of “Spring Awakening”.
I looked shifty as I stood in the Baptist Church hall and looked around at the Bright Young People. “Oh ho” thought I “I don’t even know everyone in my First Year group. How will I learn all your names?” (Psssst. I haven’t.)
I was cast as both a teacher and a priest. It was four lines and a long speech.
Sadly two of the lines were taken away when my teacher, playing the headmaster, cut it out so he didn’t have to learn more lines.

They needed someone else to fill an empty spot of one of the school boys.
In rehearsals, I got to play that role but I couldn’t be a boy AND a teacher.
Thus followed me going around my peers going “You want to be in a play? What do you mean you have too much do?” So we finally got someone on our third try, two weeks before we performed. (He did quite well, by the by).

We had to work the rehearsals around when the Second Years were free and so were we. We weren’t allowed to miss lectuares until this week.
But it was just a video THAT I AM GOING TO WATCH WHEN I GET HOME.
But it worked out in the end.

So we all tried to pull together the play and it kind of did.
Sure no one was really sure of his or her lines on the first night and we stopped a few times.
In the dress rehearsal, I forgot a line and asked for a prompt. She couldn’t find it so I actually said “Okay, I’m calling the funeral short” and gave my smug head bump.
Then that night, the bit of me that deals with creative musing (PAM for those of you following along at home) went “Nope, sorry. Wiped that bit out so you can remember the fact that you forgot your line.” So I skipped it. Then the guy who was next just went “Oh, he’s finished” and moved on.
But it taught us all a lesson and the next two lights went much better.

Funny story.
The stage doors at the back of the theatre have electric locks and when the main building locks so do those doors. Thus our main character was locked back stage on the first night.
It was extra funny because he had been late earlier finding a prop and walked in going “I have found my book. It was on the porch. Now what were we talking about?” “Ah yes” says the other actor “I believe I was saying something along the lines of-”
Hee-larious.
So tonight we had to prop the doors.
And all the doors in the place slam like no one’s business.
So we had to get dressed without talking.

But I really had fun with it and got to meet some cool people while helping them with their exam work.
Hopefully I have got myself onto the radar.
Bigger and better things!

And now I catch up on all the presentation work I put off so I could do the play.
I can do it.
I’m great at winging things…I think. I HOPE.
Anyway, I have a book to go write!

The Slander Free Blog Post

The week at Chichester went well and the performance was well received.

Okay, see you next time.

Half Hearted Post

Right! Lets make this bitch my bitch.

What’s happened over the last month?
I finished the Fitcher File and I stopped being haunted by Faith.

See. No snarky comments!
I’ll show you!

Tiny penis!

There you are! Nothing. Oh the quiet. I did promise not to kill her and I didn’t. Hell she’s a recurring character possibly maybe!
Okay she’s just there to racchet up the angst and be a deus ex machina later on. What do I mean by that. Let me explain it to you in a way you’d understand.
I know. Sam freed her from a bear trap then when he fights El Gigante she’ll leap on its back and distract the monster!
I know that was a joke. But I am SO going to write that! There you go! A sneak peak into a future file!
What did happen to the dog anyway? I hope it was alright.

Moving on I’m writing this on a brand new laptop. It’s big and new and powerful. When I asked the guy in the shop if I could play games he said “Oh no. You’ll need an add on and that will cost money.” Now I can walk back and say “See! See how Sawyer out of Lost tells me to destroy. And how Cameron out of House doesn’t seem to know what she’s saying!” Then I would nod my head and flounce off. In a totally manly macho way though!

Thanks to the new laptop we’ve finally sorted out wireless internet which allows me to proctrasnate anywhere in the house. Oh the freedom, the wireless freedom.
This has also allowed me to finally get my Wii online and show Germans how I can make Snake kick REALLLLY high. And then he goes WHHHOSH and flies and everything and AWESOME!
Just be glad they don’t do voice chat. I don’t want to call people fags. I really don’t!

While writing this the Opening Ceremony is playing. There sure is a lot of walking around with flags! (Jancis: Cutting edge commentary. Come back soon for “People run really fast and get given presents!”)

Anyway, next week I’m off to take part in a weeklong workshop in Chichester based on “Six Characters in Search of an Author”. Will it be worth it? Will I have to take my trousers off? I’ll have to find out!

I Am Reviewing The play/the last year/the chance to make bad Oliver! puns.

It’s the morning of the first of July and young T. Jancis is hard at work writing what he hopes will be his next story. Or at least he hopes it will be. Let’s watch as he types away.

T.J: So...how to kill a werewolf. I could have it even 10p coins…No. That’s a stupid idea. What if I threw off a realllly big hill.
FAITH: Oh look who’s back.
TJ: Hi Faith. Bye Faith. Writing. Go.
FAITH: Writing my story if I remember. So you can spend a little time with me.
TJ: No.
FAITH: Why?
TJ: You are a figment of my imagination that has the annoying tendency to talk to me.
FAITH: And to touch you while you’re sleeping.
TJ: I’m not touching that one.
FAITH: But I am on a nightly basis.
TJ: Look. I’m at least six months tardy on this story. I have at least three people if not waiting on tender hooks at least getting ready to sit down with a cold drink and peruse it while listening to the radio on a summer afternoon.
FAITH: You’ve got strange ideas of your friends.
TJ: Anyway I might have a handful added readers thanks to the play.
FAITH: Ah yes. The play. The wonderful play that has left us as ill formed constructs. Tell us allll about it.
TJ: I will. And you can go back into the ether that is my imagination.
FAITH: Fine. But I’m giving you memories of Bob the Builder porn.
TJ: Okay. My memories of OLIVER! over a week later.

I’ve been slow to write this for a few reasons. I’ve never been one to name names in this blog as I don’t really want them coming up to me and saying “What ya mean I’ve got wonky breasts?” (I never wrote a blogstory with a person I knew as a demon. Never. Retconed. Gone. I also have no plans to use the character again in the Fitcher Files. Nope. Not me.) So that’s why I’ve let the dust settle and perspective to settle in. (I did in fact tell a girl she had wonky breasts but like most girls, she ignored me. Oh what a life I live.)


As I have stated in an earlier blog back when I left school I sent off for membership of Stage ’65, the youth theatre of the Salisbury Playhouse. They turned me down saying there was no room but hey, thanks for playing and I’ll be on file. So I kind of moved on until I got a phonecall saying that men were needed so of I went. Now I know there was a rehearsal and remember certain people who made an impact. I know Ben, our director, turned up at the end and was…well Ben. But I seems I’m an incredibly selfish person and my mind said “If you get this, you’ll have time to learn names and faces. But as you might not don’t bother.” So I’m looking back and going So and So must have been there and POOF that’s them in the corner. Then I say they didn’t have that haircut then and they lose their heads and it’s all rather sad and tragic. Sadgic if you will.
We won’t.
So off I go to a callback and there I meet for what I’d count as the first time the other main characters. You could argue that I was the fifth most important character, which is nice.
So here I break my no-names rule and give a summation of these fine folk over the months of the play.

OLIVER
This fine chappy was played by an Oliver as was Fagin. But, as the Salisbury Journal so helpfully said “That’s where the similarities end”. Well yes, one is playing a thirteen year old boy and the other an old Jew. Silly, silly Journal.
He restored my belief in young years he did. And all the girls loved him and his pseduogay ways.
Yes, we had a whole “Gay/Straight/Bi” check for the whole run. For the record I’m Omnisexual and I have to say that is a lovely tablelamp you have there.
So we tried to make sure he went along the path of happiness and relished it when he promised someone in their yearbook he’d turn for them before too long and then watched him panic.
On Saturday, he lost his voice and he got warm lemon and honey. Before long we were just making him drink lemon juice. Oh the jitters he had.
There was also a part in the funeral home where Oliver is stuffed in a coffin but in rehearsal it was broken so they stuffed him in the “cellar” (the understage via trapdoors). From there he shouts at Mr Bumble, the head of the workhouse. Well on Saturday it seems Oliver goes down a hole and then his voice broke only to be restored on re-entry. It seems the backstage guy took the shouting job instead. This also killed Ben who had no idea this would happen and was trapped in the orchestra pit with an accordion (to play, not as some romantic interlude. That said…)

NANCY
Ah Obee/Obi/Holly/Hobby. Sweet innocent all of the above names. Yes this is one Obee (I’m sticking with this name for sanity’s sake) our Nancy. Why Obee? Because she joined up they said “You can have a stage name” and she said “Okay, I’ll be Obadiah” but she spelt it wrong and so it’s all very confusing. Of course I said the reason was she really was a OB-B due to the fact she was an Organic Bioform robot and OB-A was killed in a tragic accident and now we have her. I think she got the joke (see girls misunderstanding me. Also the hardness of my existence.) Of course I then had a dream that mixed that and Battlestar Galactica where we had OB-C but my Obee remained in my head basically annoyed I killed her and going out of the way to ruin the play for me. How? Um…lovely weather we’re having! (Phew, dodged a bullet I shot at myself!)
On the first night she appeared to have food poisoning and so felt ill. So when she left before the curtain call, guess who’s fault that was. Did I break her neck? Not that time. No justice!
Of course, that night was the one when the gunshot didn’t go and I almost passed out thanks to the drop. But no one seemed to car- that’s a lie. All the grownups didn’t want me to die.

FAGIN
This is our Ollie V.1. Was he playing Jewish, Italian or South African? Anywichway, he did a good job. Many was the night he rushed backstage to grey his hair and eyebrows and rub black on his teeth. Sure it looked strange and sure it all rubbed off but he tried didn’t he?
It was also fun to watch him prepare “Reviewing the Situation” by singing at the mirrors in our dressing room.
It may seem I have little to say on him. That’s not true. Of the four people I’m talking about, I probally spent the most time with him. It’s just it appears there aren’t so many wacky stories. It just a lot of talking with someone with the annoying habit of knowing a lot of what I was talking about. The swine. How dare he be well-versed in both literature and film!
And now he’s a pro with a play on in September. While I’m here by lonesome.
You’ve got me.

A fun way to pass the time was to notice that Mr Brownlow, Oliver’s grandfather never got a song. So we wrote one. (Well I wrote it. He just made me sing it for everyone)
And it goes a little something like this:

ACT TWO

Scene 2.1

Oliver and Mr Brownlow enter Brownlow’s Home. Oliver stands in the hall, looking amazed. Above the stairs there is a large picture of what looks like Oliver in a blonde curly wig and a huge pink dress.

MR BROWNLOW

Well young man this is my home. I mean your home. You would like that wouldn’t you?

OLIVER

Very much sir.

MR BROWNLOW

Excellent. Now I better show you round. Let you get the feel of the place.

Oliver is pushed into a chair.

“YOU’RE MY GRANDSON”

MR BROWNLOW

I’m Mr Brownlow

Welcome to my mansion

I shall protect you from the smog

First you get a tour of my house.

This is where I keep my logs.

(SPOKEN) I like logs. They never talk back.

Chorus
You’re my
You’re my grandson
Never stray away from me
You’re so
You’re so handsome
A happy family we shall be

MR BROWNLOW
This is where I keep my books
Most of them I’ve never read.
This is where we keep my dead.
(SPOKEN) NEVER GO IN THERE! The music stops at once as Brownlow glowers at Oliver for around five seconds. Suddenly he sings again.
Your breakfast will be made by cooks.

Chorus

Mrs Bedwin appears from inside of a cupboard. She is carrying a box that appears to ooze…stuff. As she puts it down she sees Oliver and walks towards in a shuffled dance.

BEDWIN
I’m Mrs Bedwin
I’ll be your nanny
Now young man, it’s time for bed.
I shall read you a bed time story
While I smell you sweet washed head
She begins to sniff him.

Oliver gets up and begins to back towards the door.

OLIVER
Though I appreciate the offer
I would hate to be a bother.
I really should go now.
He runs.

MR BROWNLOW
Catch him, you daft old cow.

Oliver is caught.

Chorus X2

Oliver collapses.

BEDWIN
Oh lord. We’ve killed another one.

MR BROWNLOW
No. No. It appears that he’s just fainted with the excitement of being here. Did I mention he might maybe possibly could be my grandson?

BEDWIN
I believe so sir.

MR BROWNLOW
Oh well. Begins to leave. I’m going to go stand by the duckpond and watch the children. Don’t wait up.

BEDWIN
What about the boy?

MR BROWNLOW
If anyone asks, say he has a fever. Get Grimwig to look at him. The man couldn’t tell his oral cavities from his glatimus maximus. Laughes then suddenly stops. That was a medical joke.

BEDWIN
Yes sir.

MR BROWNLOW
You didn’t laugh.

BEDWIN
I’m laughing on the inside, sir.

MR BROWNLOW
You do think I’m funny, don’t you Mrs Bedwin?

BEDWIN
Yes sir.

MR BROWNLOW
And you do like my logs?

BEDWIN
They’re very fine in my humble opinion.

MR BROWNLOW
Good. Good. Walks off humming.

Bedwin waits until he is gone. She looks down at Oliver.

BEDWIN
Sleeping away. So like a doll. Aren’t you a doll? A sweet, innocent doll? You won’t be leaving Mumsy will you? You’re going to stay with Mumsy,aren't you baby doll?

She kneels and places Oliver’s head to her chest and gently rocks him. He moans a little.

BEDWIN
Sush, sush Baby. No more crying. Mumsy will care for you. But first you need a bath. A nice sponge bath with Mumsy

She carry-drags Oliver off stage.

SCENE

I think I’ve scared myself a little. My mind is a worrying place.

DODGER
Our crossdressing Dodger. Well of course we never made that clear. It just happened that our Dodger was a girl. Nothing unusual about that. All though it did make Fagin’s line “She’s going to be a regular little Bill Sikes” a little strange. She is? She’s going to grow nine inches, sprout stubble and bitch slap her girlfiend? Oh, good for her.
On our first night, Charlie was very sad because no one had bought her a single flower. “What ho” thinks I “a chance to both be nice and give mixed messages. Those are my favourite form of message.” So she got cut flowers and Obee? Well she got a nice pot plant which I thought would last longer. See, mixed ain’t it? Of course people were aggressive when I appeared so I dumped them on the floor and legged it down the corridor.
In my card I called her a “blonde drag-king” so that got me some notice.
I appear to be a strong holder of the belief of keeping them keen by treating them mean.
She also learnt she had large eyes and these could be used to scare and worry people and doesn’t everyone need to see it and doesn’t she need to go to every dressing room and show it off? Answer: yes.

Ah yes. All those, dare I say it, friends of mine. Too bad they were all drug related hallucinations.

BILL SIKES
And so we reach the most important part of all. Sit back gentle readers as I tell you of the struggle that was my life. Thrill as I talk of my stunts. Gasp as children become impossible for me.

So the first few months were deadly dull. See Ben thought a Bill who was evil then burst into song would ruin the menace. So I was cut from the songs. So I just sat around, wallowing in despair. Eventualy we got onto my bit and we realised how bad my lines were so they got cut. I mean cut. Mute. Yeah I know. But eventually we solved it.
I mean look at this.
SCRIPT
Nancy: Why are you looking at me like that Bill?
Bill: It’s a dark night, my girl, but it’s light enough for what I’ve got to do.
He kills her.
PERFOMANCE
Nancy: Why are you looking at me like that Bill?
There is a pause as he stares her down. Suddenly his hands snap around her neck and she begins to choke.

Wasn’t that much better?

Thus we get to the big piece. The hanging.
Now at the beginning they said “We’re going to hang you.” I thought “Yeah, right.” Little did I know I would have to wear a harness under my coat and waistcoat, hook myself, wrap the rope around me, wait for the girl to go “BILL SIKES!” climb over a railing and then get “shot”. I leant back, let go with my hands then my feet. Where I dangled ten or nine feet off the ground while we had a quick reprise of “Reviewing the Situation”.
Was it scary? Not after the first few times. Hurt? Like hell but I’m used to been bruised. (Did I mention I have a hard life?)

I have great pictures on my phone of the bruising to show at my next cheese and wine party.
(If I took one thing away from Mr Craig’s Ethics lessons it is that…How sad.)
The sad thing is I’m now really good at hanging yet I may never use the wires again. The tech guy said my dead dangle was one of the best he’s even seen. This is the man I had to take my trousers off to allow him to check the harness. It changes a man you know.

So I was ready and then on the Monday there was bad commutation with the sound guy and the tech so the gunshot never happened so I kind of jumped. This fanagled my gun- oh what the hell I crushed my bollocks and smacked my back.
After that I thought shouting would alleviate the stress.
TUES: “OH GOD DAMMINT”
WED: “OH BLOODY HELL!”
THUR: “SON OF A BIT-”
At this point one of the kids told me my shouting was “ruining the play” and “You can’t shout when you’ve been shot”. So after I yelled her (how dare you say that and the fall killed him not the shot) I resulted to just making sex noises. Like you do.



The Many Smackdowns of Nancy Nancyson, A Lady of the Night and Nice Singer.
1. When refusing to go get back one Oliver Twist, her boyfriend, one William Sikes (a man of excessive hair and owner of one cunning hat) grabbed her by her rather large hair and threw her to the ground.
2. While she lay prostate, Sikes decided to scare her by stamping close to her head which moved her into a position to sing her song.
3. When returning with the boy, Nancy decidedes to intercede on a belt whipping is thrown to the ground for her troubles.
4. She then points with a dramatic finger which results in an arm twisting.
5. Later in the same scene, she has to be forcibly removed from the room for punishment and possible raping.
6. In the final part of her life, she once again gets in the way of an Oliver beating and is chocked, swung around, slammed against a wall then thrown to the floor. At which point she dies. OR DOES SHE?
7. Yes, yes she does.

Back to how hard my life is. I seem to have terrible luck with photos. I just don’t get into them. That’s why I don’t have one on Facebook (that and it was done to annoy Sarah. Back to keen via mean.) Every time they took photos it was Act One, which I’m just not in. Which is kind of disheartening but I maintain they’re going to struggle when I make it big and they have nothing to put on the wall to say I was there. (I am in the back of one rehearsal photo but I am removed for the internet version).

Now I want to make it clear I enjoyed myself. I’m a position that it was so well done that I can pick up on the small things that rubbed slightly.
It was just nice to not have to buy costumes or props for once. And of course, it’s back to no budget for me in September.

NEWSPAPER (BEFORE SHOW)
NEWSPAPER (AFTER SHOW)
PLAYHOUSE


So that was Oliver! This final point leads me nicely into the rest of the post.
More? Good God, man.
The sooner I do this, the sooner I can get around to killing you.
Sorry. What?
So as I was saying, people asked me what else I was up to apart from the play.
You’re going to kill me?
Now I could tell them about the podcast or the Fitcher Files.
People like me.
But I didn’t.
At least I like me.
Did I not think they were good enough? Was I embarrassed? Or was it easier to just say “Doing? This. Normally I don’t go outside for weeks.”
Don’t kill me.
Either way, those three things have in my mind been the things that have stuck. Okay maybe I told people the reason for my gap year was that I was going on a tour of the world then my girlfriend got decapitated in a carcrash and I couldn’t find the energy to go. Then when challenged I’d say “You’ll never know”. Oh mystery!
QUOTE OF THE PARAGRAPH:
Young boy (aghast at my tragedy): Did she die?
Me (Annoyed): No, she was just fine with no head!
Young boy: Oh. Yeah.

Now I’m ready for people to say that “You shouldn’t say such things. If it happened you’d feel awful.” No I’ll be amazed if it does. I’d feel awful because MY GIRLFRIEND WOULD BE DEAD!
(Note to self: This is going to come and bite you in the arse one day. PS. Girlfriend of the future: I love you. Please don’t get your head cut off.)
At least I didn’t go with “And I also lost my best friend in the crash. Yeah, she really shouldn’t have been blowing him while he was driving.” Because that would be too much.
(NOTE: Thomas is once again stealing plots from books to make his life more interesting. Points to anyone who can name the two books.)
YOU’RE GOING TO DECAPATE ME?
Why would I?
I’M A FICTIONAL GIRL.
I promise not to chop your head off.

Do I feel like I’ve wasted my year? No. I’ve matured and gained more stamina. Hopefully this will help me for the next year.
If I could change anything I would try to get more done with the writing. I know I keep whining about no one reading it but that shouldn’t be a problem. What I needed to do was just get on with it. Then again, I remember the fact Kieran destroyed his Media Studies as he would rather hand in something he was happy with then leap through hoops.

Which reminds me: None of you came to my play and only Sarah wished me well! I thought you loved me.
Apologies and kisses in the comments!

Consider Yourself a clichéd pun that I refuse to make.

So here we are. Eggs in the basket are hatching and I’m hoping that they become swans rather then lizards.
What I’m trying to say is a small portion of my life is coming to an end.
The Buffy recording was done weeks ago and tonight I begin the first night of a seven show run of Oliver! in front of an audience of over five hundred people.
Am I scared? Well, the director Ben has banned me from getting nervous so I’m tingly.
Oh, and my legs are covered in bruising from general bashing and my death scene. How do I die? Well you have to see that for yourself. (Yes, even the Buffy people. Get on a play to see someone you don’t know. Make an effort people!)
Once again I ask for your love and well wishes and maybe I’ll post pictures of the atrophying flesh that is my legs.

John Godber's Teechers: When the Door Rang: A Rope Of Sand

I stand in the corner of the staff room, glaring at my target. I will advance until I stand behind him and use such cutting words that his tiny mind will bubble out of his ears.
I smirk for this is a good plan. Nay, it is a Good Plan.

As I begin to walk, a fopheaded teacher tries to engage me in inane chatter. I headbutt him. It seems like it’s the right thing.
My target stands with his back to me, yet at a slight angle. He’s talking to a woman that appears to be wearing pyjamas and boots for kicking frogs.

I pass the pastel dresses and blatherings of my colleagues. Just a patch of empty floor and then I may deliver my line.
As I step into the space, an implike creature leaps at me, like some mutant marshrat. It is wearing a chain belt in what can only be described as a chastity protecting style.
I was later to learn this was Geegor Idlum.
It leers at me and raised the tray it carries.
‘Would you like some pommange, maaaaaaster?’ the creature whines.
My steely facade begins to break.
The creature opens it’s mouth and makes the noise of a dying albatross with the flu.

That’s it. We do the unthinkable.
We corpse.

Like that, we’re back in a small theatre room. It’s a Wednesday, around three. We’re missing about three of the cast due to it being a Wednesday and also flu season. We have 15 days to go.
The woman still looks like a genie on its day off.

‘Jordan, I’m going to f***ing kill you.’ I dive at him. He jumps back. We’re both laughing.

‘Right, do it again.’ Boss yells at us.
Ignoring this, (she loves it when you do that. She just hides it well) I pull out my weather beaten notebook, making sure to avoid a certain double page spread and find a clean page.

I scribble TEACHERS, my mind correcting the deliberate typo.
‘I’m going to put that article, you know?’ I laugh.
Jordan makes the noise again.

And I did. Good times.
-----
When Miss Mason told us she wasn’t going to be such a hands-on director, she wanted us to act the mature actors she knew we were. But as the philosopher Jagger once said "You can't always get what you want." (Double quote score!)
We screamed, we ranted, we told to people to insert objects in uncomfortable places. Everyone claimed that this play would be our doom. In years to come, employers and potential partners would smell the failure on us and we’d have to live on Saint Helena, eating our frog killing boots.
I made noncommittal noises and tried to stop Boss from breaking necks. It didn’t work and we had to recast but that’s the risk of live theatre. The Co-Director might kill you.
But it hasn’t all been deaths and Gollum/Igor love childen! (All though they were very good!)

Here are some of the bestest moments!

The Tightest of Pants
First up we have everyone’s favourite gay teacher/gimp Mr Fisher and in particular the BUDGY HUGGERS!
Yes, these truly were the tightest of pants.
Ladies and girls all fell prostrate before these babies.
But did you know they weren’t the first choice?
http://cgi.ebay.co.uk/NYLON-Sports-PE-Football-Shorts-Gay-Interest-Small
These were for sell on Ebay. How were they classified?
NYLON Sports/PE/Football Shorts Gay Interest
I think that sums up the character don’t you? They’re sports. Football. Oh and if you’re gay, you might be interested!
I still feel that the Boss just wanted to play dress up with dear ol' Sour Puss.

Best Bit: On MSN Hman was moaning about it's slightly ironic that more thought has gone into my costume then prob any one elses yet i think i have the 2nd-3rd(ish) smallest part.
So I stated the facts simply and to the point.
Look, you're Boss' boytoy. Just go with the flow and let her play doll with you.
There was quiet.
So I broke it down for him.
Trust me. Next thing she'll want to pad out the crotch and cut the ass out of the back "for humour".
He needed a liedown. Just too much sexy.
ETA: Some blaggard has pilfered the shorts! SWINE!

James’ Talks
There was a time when I thought I was going to be writing for the Voice about this whole play. But no! I’m to be content that I have a blog and a part in the play! WOO FREAKING OOO!
Anyway, back when I thought I was doing something, I interviewed a few of the actors for the article.
Actually, knowing how very…unsubtle I am maybe it was best I didn’t write for the local rag, what with the easily upset feelings of the locals.
I’ve already been run out of four towns.
As I was saying, I taped some of the interviews.
But as I was doing this, James (who dies if no one looks at him. Very sad) began to interview those haven’t had a part in the play.
Like a baby on crack, he rushed around, leaping chairs and sticking his Dictaphone under noses.
He even yelled at the Year 12’s to be quiet.
They all fell instantly in love.
But that’s a story for the “Humorous Rape Stories” post.

Best Bit: Young Thomas Cuthburt Harman learns there has been no such thing as a Bobbi!
Hman: Who’s been giving lifts home?
Jancis: No one. You sleep in the ditch. It’s cold so we cuddle togther and whisper our secrets to each other.
Beat of uncomfortable flashbacks.
It’s called spooning!
Then if there’s no Bobbi, who’s been running the play?
ME! *evil grin* WITH SPOONS!
Fanning: I'M NOT WEARING ANY TROUSERS!.....THAT IS ALL!

My Time Out of the Spotlight
Now if anyone has talked to me about the play will know this story.
In the disco scene, Nixon is commentating on the bootylicious pupils and says And only Mr Basford seemed unmoved by the gyrating bottoms and boobs.
See now after he said Mr Basford I should have been hit by a spotlight so I could act unmoved. (Wasn’t hard. HAVE YOU SEEN THE PUPILS! Not a looker among them. Arrrgh. [That better be sarcasm!])
I do. Audience laughes. We move on.
Rehearsal. Fine.

First night: Nothing. We freeze and Fanning carries on slightly knocked.
We all laugh about and ask Lewis to sort next time.
He agrees.

Second night: Nip
After the show, we kick the hell out of Louie and tell him he better have it for the Thursday or dear mama Lewis might fall out of an airplane onto a lightning rod, capiche?

Thursday.
Lewis turns up plastered. George mentions it and gets punched for his trouble. Of course Lewis isn’t drunk. Nope not him. Oh look he’s fallen over and broke the fridge. Happens all the time.
And now he needs to have a nap.
No Louie, go work on the lights. You can have a nap in the interval.

Come the moment and….YES! THE LOVABLE WHORE’S DONE IT! HE’S DONE IT. I bathe in the golden glow.
Dr Jancis told me that I looked so happy but stern.
Just before the lights dim, I nod my approval.

Mama Lewis sees another dawn.

Best Bit: Give you three guess. Yes, that’s right. The drunk Lewis is a much better lightman then sober Lewis!

Jack Fanning Does The Sting
Now we actor types are a pretty useless breed of men and ladymen. We’re like airline pilots. We can get drunk on the job.
But that’s beside the point.
My point was we are supposedly smart. But we need to be told how to talk and when. And if we don’t have anyone, we cry like wee bairns.

Now who’s seen that great crime film ‘The Sting’….anyone?
Fine. Anyone seen Hustle?
YES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Wow. Um…good for you.
Well, the pilot pretty much stole the plot of The Sting.
In “The Sting”, the crooks have to communicate with gestures. ‘Cause it’s sneaky!

I’m going to let you in on a secret of mine. It’s also a secret of the great John C. McGinley.
A tap to the left side of the nose with the forefinger curled means “Danger. NOT SAFE”.
What does Dr Cox do when he’s pissed off? THE NOSE TAP!
WOOOO! I’M SO COOL AND INDIVUAL I APPEAR TO BE RIPPING OFF TWO SEPRATE GENRES! WOOOO!

Back to the point, one rehearsel young Jack Percival Fanning came to me and claimed he was forgeting his lines in one of our scenes. Could I help him?

Firstly, Fanning, you iz a pussy (Don’t make start on the whole “if you haven’t got one, you can’t say it”. Because I WILL DESTROY YOU!!!)

So, I drew from my twisted mind and pulled out the Tap.
So after teaching Fanning the signal was not to punch himself in the face and can he stop that as the audience don't want to look at his broken visage, thank you, it became cannon.

And now, when you rewatch the Nixon VS Basford scene (DVDs £6.99 from the back of Lunn’s bike) watch Fanning tap his nose as he forgets yet another line. And know you can now be smug on two accounts.

Best Bit: Jancis uses the Sting’s nose tap as does John C. McGinley who was in Born on the Fourth of July (1989) with Beau Starr . He was in in Where the Truth Lies (2005) with….KEVIN BACON!!!!
Jancis= 3 Bacon Points

You Know This Is My First Time. Be Gentle

After the play we were all going to sample some curry in the curryhouse. But how to arrive? On foot? Or leap into Jordan’s car with Bolias and George. Now the car jouney was an intresting one. I might have got a bit excited.
Now I might, and this is a might, have said the following.
CAR! CAR! CAR! CAR!
I'VE BEEN IN A CAR BEFORE!

LOOK! I’M IN A CAR!

All these before Jordan almost ran someone over. That quieted us down a little. Enough blood had already been spilt in this play.
Best Bit:
Jord: He’s like a dog.
George: Dogs don’t talk.

Bolais: In Jancis’ world they do!

Jancis:CAR!

Sober And I’m Already Falling Down
Did I mention Jordan has a small car? And you all got out through one small door? And I’m very tall and big? Did I mention it was a small hole?

Yeah well. I faceplanted on the road. They found it funny. I did as well. You have to really.
Best Bit: It’s not a good Drama performance if I don’t get hit in the face at least once. By Jordan no less.
Bobbi Plays Howard Dean To Great Acclaim

‘ We have made this wonderful play! And this makes us mighty! We're taking this to the local talent show, then we're going to the Fringe and then we're making the movie! GAGAGA!’

Is it JorCis or JanDan?

Bennet: you failed to mention the vital part, the part where you did a sobreity(?) test on Jordan in Revs? Remember? We all do. It was priceless!

Forget? How could I? So this is the tale of the sobriety test.

I had escaped the amorous advances of the skinheads and so decided to chill with me homies.

Let me think who was there:

*Bennet

*Mark

*Hman

*Jordan (duh)

*Bobbi (but she was busy with some young men so I don't know if she saw)

*Chloe

Anyway, Jordan was leaning against the wall by the TV, his normal shiteater grin shinning from booze.

Jancis: You're drunk.

Jord: No, I'm dot!

Which I think proves my point.

I tried to argue but then he said the two words that doom most men.

Jord: Prove it!
I could say he had "come hither" eyes or partially puckered lips. But no. I'm just sadistic, that's all. And the knowledge that he would spend the next few days wondering what he did to make me do that.
So I kissed him hard on the lips. Didn't stick my tongue in though. Last time I did that, I was spitting flesh and blood for a few hours.

His eyes turned huge and cowlike before he pushed me back.
I winked and walked away at that point, like the best lover. Always leave them wanting!

Now anyone who says silence is just a lack of sound is an idiot. Because I was followed by a wave of confused silence.

I looked out the window, knowing I had made another moment for the "Hey, do you remember?" party.
Best Bit: He tasted of booze and strawberries! Just like Wimbledon!

No Harman! Not In The Churchyard!
Hman tried to piss on a tombstone until we stopped him. Did I mention he's a funny but evil drunk?

Does She Have A Licence…Or Any Idea How To Drive?

So after Hman had relieved himself WHILST singing, we see a car crawl past.
Ah, we think, there goes Jordan…who’s in the passenger seat. Then who was driving.
On a scale of 1 to 10 (10 being the worst) here were our thoughts:
Jordan’s not driving 4
Who is? 1
Rai! 2
Can she see over the wheel? 6
Does she have a licence? 8
AND WHY THE FUCK ARE THE TAILIGHTS OFF!? 10
Oh shit, we’re going to loose Rai and Jordan in one horrific crash. 42

Not again! 45 to the power of pi

But they didn't dies. Which is nice.
Best Bit:The non deaths of my friends was a good part of the evening.

A Poem By A Drunk
Roses are red
Violets are blue
I’m no good at rhyming
Get me into bed
LEWIS WOOD: 30/11/06

I never said it was going to be a good poem!

And The Oscar Goes To:
I had to put this one in.
It was the Saturday after the play. The family were enjoying a sport of tucker.
Ma: You were all good.
Jancis: Cheers Mumsy. Anyone particular?
Well you.
Of course. *Laugh to make it seem less egotistical*
Then we- Actually do you want to know did the best acting in the whole play?
(Note: Mum went to all three performances. Yes, she loves me THAT much!)
*Realises that she’s already mentioned him* Yeah?
Bobbi’s acting surprised over the flowers. That really impressed me.
You…liked her bulgy fish eyes?
If you want to put it that way *Sip of tea*
Jancis Jnr: Oh THAT’S Bobbi!
Best Bit: If I was someone different I would say my Mum was a stone cold bitch. But I wuv my Mummy so I won’t…Can I have my bedroom door back now?

You Have Been Weighed, You Have Been Measured And You Have Been Found Most Wanting
I’m going to talk about the large board that was hoisted up next to my desk. It was poster board size and had all the best pun names on the “register”.
No one knew who made it. Maybe it was the Drama pixies. Just in case we put it up. You do not want pissed pixies especially Drama ones!

They were pretty innocuous puns: Terresa Green (that one took Hman ages to work out), Mary Christmas (Isn’t that Mrs Claus’ name anyway?). The normal cracker puns.
There was one that baffled me though.
Let’s enter my memory to relive this fine piece of history.

She ran her tongue across her teeth as he slowly undid his belt.
“So what did you think?” he asks.
“It’ll do me well.”
Jancis slinked in between the covers.
“Then let us begin.”
And begin they did.

Um…different memory!

SCENE: A lunchtime rehearsal in C3.
Standing around are Jancis and Hman and others. The Register leans against the far wall. People enter and notice the poster.

Everyone: What’s that? Where’s it going to go? Is this going to be a long rehearsal?
Hman walks over to the board. He reads.
Hman: The Rees O’Grin?
Jancis walks up after him.
Jancis: Trees a’ Green.
Hman: Oh.
Jancis: What’s that one? Willam Warmer?
Steve enters
Steve: Hey guys.
Hman: Oh hi Steve.
Jancis: I say Steve, that is one fine shirt you’re wearing. The red matches your bloodshot eyes.
Steve: Why thank you Jancis. My girlfriend gave it to me. You know I live for her.
Hman: Indeed we do. But you were saying something, Jancis?
Jancis: I was. Would someone care to explain William Warmer?
Steve: I believe it’s a pun off Willy Warmers.
Jancis: But why the subtle turn for the one pun? The others just bulldoze their way through the joke!
Steve: Shrugs Uninventive pixies.
A light falls on Steve.
And that’s why we’re not allowed to talk about Steve. Poor Steve. He was never a good actor. Good kisser though.
He StOoD In OuR WaY! We OnLy WaNt ThE ChoOsEn ChIlD! sHe WoUlD lOvE oUr PuNs!
Best Bit: Waking up on the Saturday with the perfect name that should have been up there. That name was this: Eilleen Bachendoit