mostly david ephgrave

I bought a pair of shorts today to wear at a casting tomorrow that make me look like a shit tourist. Shorts aren't the sort of thing I have in my wardrobe. I like to keep the goings-on from the knees down to myself. It’s good to maintain a little intrigue. We live in an era where people are used to seeing everything . We’ve been desensitised by porn and violence. By shielding my legs from public view, I’m trying to take us back to a simpler time; I’m doing my bit for public decency. Yet despite my misgivings about displaying my appendages, I’ll be standing in a casting suite tomorrow evening, committing them to tape. Such are the compromises an actor makes for money. I'm whoring my pins out for cash. There’s nothing wrong with the pair I bought in the end (£30 from Next); it’s more how I look in them. Something about the situation isn’t right. My wife assures me they’re fine, but I have a sneaking suspicion that anyone who sees me on the tube will pick up on my u

I listened to last night’s In Your Inner Ear when it went out and was pretty pleased with it; particularly considering the show was recorded the day after a late finish at Hitchin Mostly Comedy . We’re definitely getting more comfortable doing it. We’ve settled on a simple format that works for us. I was surprised by how direct our conversation was when were all shattered at the time; I guess that’s what comes from working together forever (or pretty much). The main thing letting the side down at the moment is the quality of the broadcast. A fault in the studio’s set-up is causing electrical interference, which runs underneath everything going out. I suspect it’s either to do with the power source, or one dodgy lead touching another, but it’s frustrating, as the hum masks the detail - and gets very irritating in the process. They’re trying to fix it, but until it’s done, we sound like an AM station coming through a battered radiogram that’s been po

When I was young, I had some Sooty, Sweep and Soo puppets. Bizarrely, I owned two Soos: one with a skirt and one without. This wasn’t for sexual purposes; I was only two, for goodness’ sake. I don’t think they came in a job lot; I always assumed they were sold separately. But why the extra Soo? Did I wear the first one out? I’d have to ask my parents, though I doubt that they’d remember. Perhaps they got me a Soo first, to see if I took to it, before awarding me with the whole set. I’ve always had a penchant for secondary characters. Owning only Soo would be weird. It’s too specific. Having just Sooty would be fine as he’s the lead, and Sweep has the extra novelty of a squeaker – but there’s something unsavoury about a solitary Soo. Maybe I’m overthinking it. Maybe this gives a shocking insight into my thoughts on lady pandas: they’re black-eyed harlots (whatever their reluctance to procreate might suggest). My Sooty, Sweep and two Soos we

The antibiotics I’m on at the moment have turned my wee fluorescent, which makes me feel like a superhero. Not that the ability to produce DayGlo urine is a superpower. It doesn’t have any lifesaving properties, unless you’re crossing the Sahara Desert and desperate for water. You can’t even see it in the dark (not that I’ve checked). If nothing else, it makes me feel special – and looks like I've overdosed on Berocca. (Other effervescent multivitamin tablets are available.) You could argue that the day I write about the colour of my urine is the day my blog takes a turn for the worse. I just thought it was something the world needed to know about – and I’d dare you to say it to my face. Count yourself lucky; there are more unpleasant excretions I could discuss, believe me. At least my water would pass for health and safety. No-one could take umbrage to me weeing on a building site, though it wouldn't be so much high-vis, as

It says a lot about the state of paranoia I live in that when someone rings the doorbell, my first thought is ‘IT’S THE POLICE’. This may suggest I have a guilty conscience. I haven't, though it’s best not to ask why I recently re-tarmacked my drive. I’ve just become so conditioned into not receiving visitors that when there’s a knock at the door, I only assume the worst. The plus side to living in a block of flats (the drive bit was a lie) is that anyone who wants to see me has to get past a security door first. Provided they don’t arrive before midday, when they can gain access by pressing the services button. So if I ever commit a crime, I need to make sure it remains undetected until the early afternoon. Then I’ll have time to climb out of the bathroom window to make my escape. I’d still have to walk past the front door to get away, but I’d have a head start. A few years back, I was 'knocked up' by the law (not like that). They were going from door-to-doo

Today, I quickly knocked up a short script for a trailer for mine and Glyn’s radio show.   "Every Sunday, the duo behind Hitchin’s Mostly Comedy are inadvisably allowed on the airwaves. Join Doggett & Ephgrave for a mix of banter, chat and music on 'In Your Inner Ear'. But don’t let the title put you off. 'Doggett & Ephgrave: In Your Inner Ear'; Sundays from 7-9pm on SG1 Radio."   It will be voiced by the person who does all of the station’s trailers rather than us, so therefore had to fit the same style. If Glyn and I were to record it, I would have worded it differently. As it stands, I still wanted to make it underselling and self-deprecating. It wouldn’t be about us if it wasn’t. It also gives the advert an essence of the show’s content, rather than making it too slick. I have mentioned already on this blog how much I’m enjoying doing the show. I listened to last Sunday’s when it went out (we’d prerecorded it a few days before as G

I’ve spent the afternoon editing together an audio clip of me performing stand-up, to send off to a comedy competition. This was a useful exercise, considering my recent doubts about my ability. In doing it, I was forced to watch a number of videos of my gigs, to work out what to send. While some of it made me cringe, a lot didn’t – and what shocked me most was there were laughs . ...quite a lot of them, in fact. Far more than I remembered. For some reason (*cough* Chortle review *cough*) I’ve convinced myself that there weren’t. It’s surprising how much you can reinvent something in your head, from a distance. That’s why recording my stand-up sets can be invaluable. It gives me the chance to experience them from the outside looking in, rather than the inside looking out. One thing I noticed was that the bits that came across the best had more attack. This was probably because they were in a club - and not a show – setting. It made me think that I’ve have been sitting ba

(Note to self: it’s best to not write a blog post when you’re falling asleep.)   While most of today was spent trying to sort out my problems with my phone, the most productive part was when I ran through my show in my office. It’s the first time I’ve touched the material in a good few weeks. It’s strange to be revisiting it, after such a long hiatus0o9p12. Anyone wondering what a ‘hiatus0o9p12’ is will have to ask my cat, as the word only came about as a result of her running across my keyboard. Going over the show again felt strange. Some parts felt almost alien to me, after my break from it. It wasn’t that long ago that I performed it, but it feels like in eternity. Either way, it’s good to get back on the horse, to use a clunky metaphor. It will be nice to put it in front of an audience again, so I can get a better judge of it. While it has got a fair few laughs in the past, I’ve started to forget this. I'm overthinking it, through doing it too many times to

I spent most of the day wrestling with my mobile phone, trying to make sure my contacts are backed up before I take it to the shop to be repaired and risk losing my handset. (You're in for a riveting read today.)  This should have been easier than it was. The software on my phone and laptop should have dealt with it sufficiently, but of course, as with most technology, I couldn't get it to work. I downloaded various apps to do it, none of which would back everything up. I looked on forums for advice. I deleted and reinstalled software, to no avail. I was like I was trying to do something seriously outlandish.  In the end, I resorted to the old-fashioned method of copying my address book out manually. I roped my wife into typing the numbers into an Excel spreadsheet as I read them out; we know how to relax. I can now visit the Vodafone shop tomorrow, safe in the knowledge  that I can text my friends and colleagues afterwards, to let them know how it went. Most of the

Today, I assisted Glyn with the filming of the charity event Afternoon Tea Delights , in aid of Garden House Hospice . I’m not sure how much assistance I gave; I was there more for moral support. It came about through the fact that one of the organisers is my meditation teacher, who mentioned he was looking for someone to document their annual fundraiser, to which I suggested Mr Doggett. It was only fair that I pitched in as a result, though I could hardly refuse such an exceptional cause. There were a few cakes thrown into the bargain, which literally sweetened the deal. It took place at the beautiful Priory Barn in Little Wymondley. I’d never been there before, which is ridiculous, as it’s only a stone’s throw from my house (if I were a professional shot-putter). The weather was perfect, which helped smooth things along. They had live entertainment from - amongst other things - a harpist and an opera singer, both of whom were marvellous. They also held an art auction, wh

Tonight we did our last semi-secret pre-record of next Sunday’s In Your Inner Ear . All canned up. It was fun, despite us both suffering from post-Mostly Comedy fatigue. We were exhausted. We were also held up by technical gremlins that meant we didn’t start the recording until 10pm; not the best time to get your brain into gear for a two-hour show, particularly when you didn’t get to bed until 3am the night before. Show notes. The topic for tonight’s show was ‘jobs’. This gave us ample opportunity to recall various anecdotes about our lives on tour. Steve was with us too, sharing tales from a more ‘real world’ perspective, though in reality, his day-to-day life is just as strange as ours. We rounded things off with a Shakespearian acting competition, with us each delivering a speech from King Lear to a dramatic musical backdrop and Steve’s judgement. I won’t tell you who won, as remembering the outcome will only piss me off.  Ever the professionals. I’m l

When I was sixteen, I decided to set myself the task of writing a song in the style of Bob Dylan. The only catch with this self-commission was I wasn’t overly familiar with what Bob Dylan did. I knew he had turned The Beatles onto pot and from folk to electric, but that was about it. I’ve since caught up (he now has the largest presence in my CD collection outside of the Fab Four), but as a teenager, I was largely oblivious. The song I squeezed from my subconscious was Shit Happens. I’m still proud of it. The recording below isn’t the best, but it gets across the essence. I remember being pulled to one side by a middle-aged man at a Big Day Out gig back in the day, to tell me that the song had epitomised his recent break-up with his wife, and helped him draw a line under their relationship. He said it made him cry. I took this as a compliment.  

Here are the answers to yesterday's quiz, for those who have been waiting with bated breath. Round One: Names. 1)     Gerald Wiley was a pseudonym for which famous comic actor and writer? ANSWER: Ronnie Barker. 2)     Give the Christian names of the four members of The Beatles, as they appear on their birth certificates. ANSWER: John, James, George and Richard. 3)     What is the real name of the magician ‘The Great Soprendo’? ANSWER: Geoffrey Durham 4)     Who is Richard Wayne Penniman better known as? ANSWER: Little Richard. 5)     What are the first names of the two original Blues Brothers? (Characters, not actors). ANSWER: Jake and Elwood. 6)     Name the Three Musketeers. ANSWER: Aramis, Porthos and Athos. 7)     What are the first names of The Famous Five? ANSWER: Julian, Dick, Anne, George and Timmy the Dog 8)     What is the only letter of the alphabet which does not appear in any of the names of the 50 American st