I'm still giggling about the brilliantly tragic computer-automated message triggered by the word "taxi" on my last blog.
I'm eating a pot of leek and potato soup in the break before we shoot the last in the series of The Matt Lucas Awards. It's been a very tiring rehearsal, but the extraordinarily high calibre guests would wake even the most tired man up! We're fortunate enough to have David Baddiel, Ruth Jones and Griff Rhys Jones. With Harry Seacombe's daughter, Katie in the show, it's an all-Welsh affair. I learnt today that Baddiel's father is actually Welsh. Welsh AND Jewish; the best combination. They're actually singing a folk song in the show which includes the words "Dai Bach", a name I remember my Nan once calling me in the days I decided my Welsh heritage was more important than my Biblical name!
Matt sent me a lovely card and some champagne to thank me for doing the autocue. He is the nicest man in show business and a very generous friend.
I'm secretly rather loving this job. All those months of living on the absolute breadline this year, I'd forgotten that autocue is actually a job I'm quite good at. Maybe I don't need to enter the police force after all!
I can guarantee this is the last time I'll ever set foot in BBC TV centre, which is a rather sad thought. If I hadn't been booked for a last-minute drumming gig tomorrow, I'd consider having a little drink!
The 15th December, 1661 was a Sunday, and Pepys went to church twice. He retired to his chamber all alone and read until bedtime. Yet again, Elizabeth was rowing with the servants. Pepys' description of the business is written in such colourful 17th Century language, it's worth quoting in full...
"I have been troubled this day about a difference between my wife and her maid Nell, who is a simple slut, and I am afeard we shall find her a cross-grained wench."
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