Such is the frequency of posts around here that sometimes I get lost in faux promises and grandiose statements that I never fulfill or complete. A good example of this was last week I laid down some plans to bring Red Leeroy Radio to the masses, or all 14 of you. Now, true to my word I sat down on Thursday night, my new shiny musical microphone equipment had arrived, I popped on my Fez (which of course instills in me the magical powers of humour) and began the construction of Episode 1.
I did some nice welcome music, a good introduction, some informative chit chat, then I leaped headlong into the most difficult part of this endeavour, actually trying to be funny, but needless to say I found this to be extremely hard. Now it is one thing to sit in a pub with your friends joking and mocking, waiting for that perfect moment to destroy someones character with a witty quip , or even at a dinner party with the remaining Bee Gee’s one can guffaw till your hearts content, you can bounce jokes off Barry and Robin and the banter will flow as freely as the wine and falsetto (Don’t bring up Maurice though). But stuck in a room on your own without said Bee Gee’s and staring at a blank screen this becomes much more difficult.
I did a sketch about a rastafarian named screwface interviewing Mary Harney, some stuff about swine flu, I took a trip to the methodone clinic for some guided meditation, played all the answerphone messages from my stalkers, had a quiet word with Charles Manson and much more besides. Now perhaps it was the constant editing, the listening and relistening, the chopping and the changing that made this all seem to me about as funny as a prolapse at an insurance seminar, but I just couldn’t put it out there. Perhaps it was paranoia, perhaps it was fear of the unknown, I just don’t know. Anyone want to volunteer for a sneak preview or to honestly tell me that I should just call a taxi?
on May 5th, 2009 at 12:48 pm
I’ll volunteer!
It’s probably because you were listening to it repeatedly. I’d say if you leave it for a few days and then go back, you’ll hear it differently.
Radge knows a great taxi driver if you do need one.
on May 5th, 2009 at 1:03 pm
Meadow, I was sitting here weeping, weeping tears of loneliness and fear, now you shall be the guinea pig. It shall be hitting your gmail later on.
on May 5th, 2009 at 2:49 pm
As Kylie says…. Eyyyyeeeee, Eyyyyyyyeeeee, Eyyyyyyyyeeeeee believe in eeeeewwwwwuuuuuuuu!
on May 5th, 2009 at 2:50 pm
I’ll look forward to it.
And here’s a tissue. Everything’s going to be okay. There, there.
on May 5th, 2009 at 4:50 pm
Why don’t you tell the really hilarious story about when you ripped off one of your oldest friends to get in with your in-laws and how your life became one long terrible catastrophe as a result of one selfish decision?
Hmmm?
P.S. You shoulda killed me when you had the chance.
on May 5th, 2009 at 4:58 pm
I know too many taxi drivers.
Red - Is there an ayia???
on May 5th, 2009 at 6:48 pm
@ Radge, not yet but there can be !!
@ Coco - go to bed.
on May 5th, 2009 at 11:09 pm
I mess about with a microphone and some free editing software as well, hoping to fashion something bloggable. I do a good Billy Connolly impression but that’s as far as it goes.
In short, I know the fear too.
on May 6th, 2009 at 12:14 am
I could smell the fear when I clicked onto your blog Red. It was tangible. I think.
Fuck it, just stick your meisterworks up. What’s the worst that could happen?
on May 6th, 2009 at 2:28 am
Best to do it live and drunk.
I tried a blog podcast a while back but wound up explaining everything far too much for it to make sense and was incapable of talking in multiple tones.
Also easier to do it with another person.
on May 6th, 2009 at 7:29 am
I’m late but would love to hear it if you’re in the market for no holds barred, breathtakingly cruel criticism.
on May 6th, 2009 at 10:02 am
@ Terence - crippling and unforgiving. Me that is, not the fear.
@ Narocroc - You could walk away.
@ B - I have a wingman lined up. (sober wingman and not in a topgun kind of way)
@ Gimme - That sounds wonderfully unappealing.