Lord Byron wuz ‘ere
Just sold a sketch to the Treason Show. Living in a small town where comedy is limited to people tripping over or the antics of the omnipresent duck population as they suicidally choose to lead a string of babies over pedestrian crossings regardless of the traffic light colour, this is no mean feat. Had I realised sooner that writing was something I’d get into, I’d have chosen a more cultured place with cosy pub snugs where like-minded jokesmiths drink beer under the guise of bouncing ideas off one another. It’s the kind of place where you could easily imagine seeing a blue plaque on a house reading “Lord Byron stopped here for a cup of tea October 27th 1803, thought about writing a poem and said, ‘nah, sod it, I’ll have some tiffin instead.’ ” So yeah, quite chuffed but still looking out for a drinking writing partner.
