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Dreadful Nonsense

"I've read your blog. it's really funny. you should write a column." - Jon Ronson

I started the final part of my unpacking last night, because I've now been home just over a month, and I felt some more boxes needed to be emptied. These boxes came from my old bedroom. It's all old magazines, old comedy tapes, old videos of shows taped off the telly and random rubbish saved from years ago that I couldn't bring myself to throw out. I'm still incredibly impressed by my collection of random things taped from the telly, so much so that I nearly got completely side tracked by trying to find my complete Lee and Herring television collection, and had to physically force myself to put the Fist of Fun tapes down because it was already 11pm and I had to find my bed underneath the piles of boxes. Fist of Fun always was and always will be my most favourite TV show ever.

But it was really weird looking through stuff that was incredibly important to me at 18, but which fills me with some degree of worry when I look back at it now - why the hell was that so important anyway? What did it even mean? Why in the world did I keep it? What am I holding on to it for? I also found autographs from Jasper Carrott, Eddie Izzard and Dominic Holland that I had forgotten I had, and a stack of letters and postcards from Richard Herring and Stewart Lee that confirm I am a horrible, hideous, mad, obsessive freak.

Next Thursday I am going to my first night of stand up comedy in Dublin since I moved home, because I'm getting withdrawal symptoms and need to sit in a dark smokey room filled with people who cough and explain punchlines to each other and occasionally ill advisedly join in with the fun. I won't be reviewing, which will be nice because I won't have homework to do when it's finished, but bad because I won't get in free.


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