Around
the States in Eighty Days
Being an irregular and erratic account by the
Greedy Bastard himself as he sets out to traverse America on
a comedy tour.
Day
Forty Six. To Kalamazoo and Beyond…
Friday,
November 14, 2003 - Kalamazoo State Theater
Interesting.
Hans is going away for the weekend, so he won't be able to
post the diary as usual. So I'm, of course, late with it.
It's like being back at school. You don't have to hand in
your prep, as the master's gone off for the weekend. The kids
at my school were really out of control. I think you had to
be quite tough as a teacher to survive us. Many suddenly departed
with nervous breakdowns in the middle of term.
Once, the Science master, a man we called Heap (because his
real name was Everest, and Everest is a big heap), suspected
(I think rightly) that we had been cheating in an exam he
set. So he made us sit it again and he brought the paper in
at the last minute so we didn't have time to steal it like
we usually did. (They would lock the exam papers overnight
in a heavily padlocked cupboard, but we would simply unscrew
the back of the cupboard and help ourselves, never touching
the lock!) We thought re-sitting this exam was jolly unfair
(i.e. the big bullies were fucked), so the plan was to simply
boycott it. Which is what we did. We sat and stared at the
Heap for two hours until he finally cracked and said "All
right you made your point, just answer the final question."
So the cheats were never discovered until the finals, at age
16, which were outside exams (GCE) and couldn't be stolen
as they arrived by special mail on the day of the exam. Of
my class of 32, only six made it through to the next term!
We are finally heading West. We have been doodling around
in circles and swoops all over the East coast, what Glyn calls
"a dartboard tour," with a sudden dash across country
to St. Louis and then back up to Buffalo. Our course makes
sense only to a Greedy Bastard William Morris agent. But I
have to say that hairdresser Marc has steered us clear of
all bad weather, so perhaps he knows what he is doing. He
is apparently a bit upset that I talk a little too freely
about Jam in my diary. It's a fucking diary. You're
supposed to tell the truth. That's the whole bloody point.
Peter says he has to watch what he says in case it ends up
in here….
I get the script for next week's Simpson's, which I
am recording in Madison on Monday. It makes me laugh out loud.
They are so funny these writers. I'd like to quote a line
or two but I believe that it would leave me open to attack
from the lethal Fox lawyers, a particular vulpine form of
the breed, force fed by their CEO on live Australian cattle…
OK time to get this in, in case Hans hasn't yet left for his
piss-up.
Incidentally here's the full text of the Python rap from that
young lady Melissa Gavazzi.
Ya'll
act like you never seen a british person before, jaws all
on the floor, like michael, like John just burst in the
door, starting doing the parrot sketch worse than before.
It's the return of the, oh wait, no wait, you're kidding
he didn't just say what I think he did, did he? And Terry
Gilliam said, nothing you idiots, Terry Gilliam's American,
he's locked in a casket. Teenage girls love Monty Python
chica chica Grahm Chapman I'm sick of him look at him showing
his you know what, banging some guy too, yeah but he's so
cool though. He's probably got a couple screws up in his
head loose but no worse than what's going on with Eric Idle,
cause he just gets on TV and lets loose, no need for a dead
moose. His bum is on the cross, his bum is on the cross,
Eric's a brit who doesn't use floss, cause that's the message
we deliver to Americans, they expect english people not
to know what a tooth brush is. Of course they know what
mouth wash is they gotta go on TV don't they? They aint
nuttin but english, well some think they're austrialian
and do the bruces sketch like real aussies, but if they
can talk in french and italian then there's no reason Grahm
and another man can't elope, so if you feel like I feel
I got the BBC, pythons wave your panty hose sing the chorus
and it goes....
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