mostly david ephgrave

I plan to commit a crime so terrible, my house will one day be referred to as "The Old Ephgrave Place". I want kids to dare each other to touch my front door (which isn’t a euphemism) and to devalue the properties either side of me. I want whole websites dedicated to the ins and outs of the horrors that went on at my eponymously monikered dwelling and for people to travel from all corners of the globe just to see where I lived. I’ve decided this is the best and most viable career move to take to increase my infamy as, after fifteen years out of drama school, I’m stretching the definition of “up and coming comedian” to the limit. There’s a fine line to attempting to create a backstory akin to Michael Myers while also sustaining your employability; I haven’t quite figured out the mechanics to it. Firstly, do I pick a crime that’ll result in a brief prison sentence and then resurrect my performing career afterwards, or do I just enough to lift my profile without be...

Worryingly, I seem to have reached the point in my life where I regularly fall asleep while watching television of an evening.  This isn't a good thing; if anything, it's a sign of advancing age, I never did this in my twenties, so what's changed? Am I more active during the day or am I having later nights? I'd attempt to solve this quandary, if it weren't for the fact I'm fighting a slumber battle as we speak; my heavy eyes inspired me to write this in the first place.  A lot of it's to do with comfort and energy. I was watching an episode of Columbo last night, and was about half way in that I started to feel the seductive pull of sleep. I changed channels to catch coverage of Lionel Richie's set at Glastonbury and was instantly fully awake; his energy and commitment cleared the fug from my head; suddenly, 'All Night Long (All Night)' had a completely different meaning. This near-narcolepsy reminds me of when I used to play the guitar at my ...

If television programmes are to be believed, the Seventies were brown . As I was born in 1981, I'm unable to comment on this theory first-hand. Whilst being a couple of years shy of the opportunity to offer an eyewitness account, I’ve certainly seen a lot of secondary evidence.   A nything that wasn’t brown was a brownish-grey or orange. Take Columbo, for instance. I’m a big fan of the dishevelled detective, owning the complete series as a DVD box-set. There are two things I’ve learnt since watching so many episodes back-to-back: that instances of homicide in 1970s' Los Angeles were alarmingly high – and that most were committed to a sepia backdrop. It’s as if they’d decided to work to a very specific colour-scheme: nothing darker than Peter Falk’s cigar; nothing lighter than his raincoat.   If only the perpetrators had stuck to this formula with more rigidity, they could have got away with murder. A young David ...