Monday, 8 May 2006
Email today
inviting me to a reunion at The Central School of Speech
and Drama (or Central School of Screech and Trauma as
it is often referred to) and I must say an old saying
of my Grandmother's sprang to mind; "I'd rather
drink bleach". You see I went to drama school to
'do plays', something I wanted to do ever since I had
my 'theatrical appetite' whetted by Richard Green of
Northern Theatre (hmm, something tells me that last
bit doesn't look too good in print). But in the first
2 years of drama school all I seemed to do was lie on
the floor with a book under my head reciting John Dunne
and when we weren't doing that we were jumping around
pretending to be the animals we'd been 'observing' that
morning in Regents Park Zoo (yes, it's actually true,
your tax payers money really does go towards dreadful,
pretentious twenty something twats jumping from desk
to desk pretending to be an African mongoose). So as
we came to the summer holidays before my third and final
year, it was noted by the staff of the drama school
that I didn't actually do anything (when I turned up)
and that I should not return for the third and final
year. Anyway, I did return, we just did plays and I
loved it. What is the point of me banging on about all
this? Oh yes, the email about the reunion. It's not
that I didn't like the other people in our year (I liked
a lot of them; not sure about them liking me though..)
it's just that I have always felt an aversion to places
of education. Well, I assume I have; I've only been
in two, my old school and drama school. Maybe I have
a problem with authority? Maybe that's why I work for
myself now? Oh god, it's all getting a bit deep now;
I only started this blog for somewhere to put the nob
jokes I didn't use in my episodes of The Green Green
Grass.
Trying to upload some of my photos from
the BAFTAs but it' not working; will try and put the
one of me and Nolly Edmunds in the picture box to the
right of this text. Wish me luck.
