Toe Le Jaxi

Nothing to do with today’s post, but it’s a good headline.

You could have had Super Cali, Fragile Lipstick, XP Halitosis, but then I’d have to write about the west coast, brittle cosmetics and bad PC operating systems, and I just don’t have those frame of reference. But it’s yours if you do – my treat.

A couple on the tube with me the other day, on the way home. They were in their mid fifties, been married for years. I’m guessing. They had the shopping bags and were heading out of London.

Her: How much is six hours?

Him: What?

Her: Six hours. How much is six hours?

Because if someone doesn’t understand you, just use the same words again.

Him: What are you talking about? It’s six hours.

Her: But how much is it?

Him: What?!

Her: The CAR park!

That summed it up. He can’t read minds and she can’t stand it.

I mentioned this in the podcast on Tuesday. So if you’ve heard this before, that’s where it’s from. Or maybe the video broadcast of that. Either that or you were actually on the train with me at the time. If it’s all of the above, then that’s just weird.

If you answered yes to two of these, then that’s too much me. Way too much me, although I’m flattered and amazed. I have to listen to myself all the time and I don’t know how I do it sometimes.

Strangely enough, I don’t find there’s much crossover in the content I have. There’s twitter and the podcast and the blog, and I don’t find one spills much into the others, so there isn’t much repitition. It’s like those athletes who play two different sports, or someone who plays two instruments and different styles of each.

I don’t want to analyse it too much, because I’m conscious of being boring about it, but its interesting.

Anyway, apologies if you’re getting this again. The good thing about doing the live shows is that we do them quicker and they are more spontaneous, even though they were recorded pretty much straight off the bat anyway, apart from me going: “I can’t talk about that.” and “Please don’t make me laugh at this. Just because you have no morals.”

The other type of live event I could do it if people ride the train to work with me and watch me type blog posts. That would also be too much me, or TMC.

Now I’m picturing thirty people sitting following me and watching me scribble down thoughts into a little black book.

Where does it end, reader? I mean listener. Or viewer. Some people get paid for this.

I’m actually quite a shy, quiet person.

I bet Letterman’s shitting himself.

The weekend song comes back tomorrow, which aims to lift and astound. It’s a push up bra for the soul. It’ll make you realise what you have and others will gawp with the fixed grins of awful ballroom dancers.

Now I’m going to go away and write a poem in my head called “if souls were like boobies”. I can’t help myself, I was given a gift.

Seriously though, come back tomorrow and Monday.

Have a great weekend.