Tag Archives: humour

Secret Santa

Today I attended my work’s Christmas Dinner with my guide dog, Trigger. As part of the festivities those attending participated in a Secret Santa, where gifts are given and received, with the recipient being unaware of the giver’s identity. I opened three presents: a selection of miniature whiskies, a furry squeaky toy and a rawhide chew in the shape of a ring. What is puzzling me is this. The whiskies are obviously for Trigger but what on earth am I to do with a squeaky toy and a rawhide chew? …

The Bad Poet (Humour)

He tried to make his verse rhyme

But it became worser and worser.

‘Twas perverse

To see

Dog rhyme with tree.

He cudgelled his brains to produce poetry fine

And was convinced beer rhymes with wine.

Inspiration from the great poets he took

And was certain Emily Dickinson

Was Brontae’s sister

And Heathcliff could not resist her.

Finally from the top of Wuthering Heights

He jumped

Hitting the moors with a plop

But his bad poems

Just would not halt.

It was his very great fault

He did not decease

And leave his readers in tranquillity!

 

Secret Diary Of PorterGirl – The Making Of The Book Trailer

Secret Diary Of PorterGirl – The Making Of The Book Trailer

Many thanks to Lucy of Secret Diary Of  Porter Girl for her wonderful guest post. Please do check out Lucy’s blog and her book.

Kevin

Since when did book trailers become a thing? I had not come across them until the release date of my book, Secret Diary Of PorterGirl, loomed ever nearer and people started making mutterings about one. I had previously dipped my toe into the world of moving pictures by making short sketches for the blog with my friend, actor Paul Butterworth. It wasn’t a process I particularly enjoyed, if I’m honest – especially if I was required to be on camera at any time.

But needs must and I gathered together my most trusted and experienced colleagues to scratch our heads about coming up with something suitable. We have previously made numerous music videos and the like, but this was unfamiliar territory. I would be surprised if some of the team had even read a book, you know. However, surrounding myself with the geniuses behind the shadowy and enigmatic Cambridge Underground Orchestra surely had to produce some kind of result. At the very least, the music would be epic.

I am no actress and in truth I would be more comfortable amidst a pit of rancid vipers than I am in front of a camera. But there seemed no avoiding it. The solution? To ensure I had as little screen time as I could get away with and leave all the heavy lifting to the man we know and love as Head Porter, Paul Butterworth. The added bonus was that his son Josh is a film student at Manchester Met Film School and could easily be bullied and bribed into helping us out. Add to the mix an attention-seeking musician or two, a nine year old lighting director and a bit of cross-dressing and all of a sudden we had a cast and crew.

Finding a set was thankfully no problem at all, thanks to the fabulous Templar Antiquities who are happily situated right across the road from our studio. Stuffed to the rafters with period furniture and fittings (not to mention some cool weapons and armour!) we had no problem recreating scenes from Old College past and present. The only down side to this location (if you can indeed call it a downside) is that the dashing American proprietor has an endless supply of very fine wine on site and this did eventually hamper proceedings somewhat. Particularly towards the end of the shoot, when a break-away group of renegade technical assistants (and maybe the Producer. Ahem) set up a small rave back in the studio. Still, there is a lot to be said for drinking fine wine from pewter goblets.

Paul was, as ever, the consummate professional throughout and lived and breathed the part of Head Porter from the moment he put on his bowler hat. In fact, the scene where he is giving our heroine a stern talking to was actually so very uncomfortable for me – such was the realism – that I vowed there and then to only write ‘nice’ scenes between them in future!

There was no avoiding me taking up the role of Deputy Head Porter, but you can also see me acting my socks off as a monk, along with the beautiful lady-friend of the Antiques Shop Owner. We had to be shot from behind, of course, as we look far too feminine from the front to be mediaeval monks. At least I would hope so. Nevertheless, I still see this as my defining moment on screen.

The now-iconic PorterGirl Theme was performed by the aforementioned Cambridge Underground Orchestra and is soon to be available on iTunes. It adds a certain gravitas to the whole production and I rather fear we would be quite lost without it.

I feel that the trailer is very much in keeping with the PorterGirl genre – a combination of expertise, raw talent and wine resulting in something that is just a little bit different to anything else, yet somehow comfortingly familiar. Now, as it is certain that there will be another book, it is also safe to assume that another book trailer will need to be tackled at some point.

So what have we learned from this endeavour?

Musicians are fun yet woefully inefficient crew members. Keep them away from the wine until the final scene.

Professional acting skills are worth their weight in gold.

We really need to find another Deputy Head Porter…

Links:

Book Trailer https://videos.files.wordpress.com/OXtxuKON/pg-trailor-1280x720_dvd.mp4

https://portergirl.wordpress.com/

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Secret-Diary-PorterGirl-Everyday-Adventures/dp/1504944437

http://www.spotlight.com/3812-7830-2467

https://www.facebook.com/paulbutterworthactor/

http://m.imbd.com/name/nm0125348

@proactorpaul

Penelope’s Complaint

Don’t give me all this stuff about sacking Troy.

You have been shacked up with some girl or boy!

You spin me a line

About men turned into swine.

I am sick of hearing of Circe

And your struggle to be free

Of her.

I’m fed up with affair after affair!

As for that painted nymph

On a plinth

Calypso

No doubt she let you go

When she saw how you guzzle your food

In a manner most rude.

Or was she a prude

And was it your language so crude

That caused her to shout

And throw you out?!

Be off once more to the sea

I want to be free

Of thee!

 

—

 

 

Penelope – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Penelope

Circe – http://www.greekmythology.com/Other_Gods/Circe/circe.html

Calypso – http://www.greekmyths-greekmythology.com/calypso-odysseus-greek-myth/

Odysseus – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Odysseus

When Trigger Met Fanny

trigger-in-his-bed

THIS IS I – TRIGGER

Yesterday I went with my owner, Kevin to catch a train into London Victoria. He says he has to go into something called the office. Personally I can’t see why. I mean its much more fun chasing foxes and other wildlife in the park or taking tasty snacks from the shelves in those big stores they call supermarkets. Its most kind of staff to leave eatables just where my nose can reach them …! Anyway I digress. As I was saying, I was at Gipsy Hill station yesterday when this furry tease (she is called Fanny I understand) sat on the Oystercard reader arching her back at me. I wagged my tail furiously but she wasn’t having any of it and kept well out of my way and, to cap it all my owner told me to behave. Fancy telling me to “behave”, butter wouldn’t melt in my mouth (it would be swallowed so fast it wouldn’t have time to melt)! This feline fiend has even got her own Twitter account (https://twitter.com/thegipsyhillcat). Who ever heard of a mere cat having such a thing. I demand one immediately!

rCbtWlaS

THIS IS FANNY

Yours disconsolately

 

Trigger

Family Life

The hoary

old Tory

finds glory

in the upper house.

his socialist spouse

drinks champagne

and cudgels her brains

about the renationalisation of trains.

Their Communist girl

Her head in an idealistic whirl

Buys expensive clothes

For she knows

That money on ancient trees grows.

And so the world goes!

 

 

A Poet To A Young Maiden And The Girl’s Reply

“Let us pile high the fire my dear.

Come you near

and warm the cockles of your heart.

Let us practice love’s art.

Draw closer and sit upon my knee.

Let us make free

like the amorous swan

for time rolls on

and desire, ‘tis soon gone.

 

“Sir

My mother warned me to beware

Of poets who pretty verses spin

Lest they lead me into sin.

Good night to you noble sir

I must be off and wash my hair”.

Heaven And Hell

To float on a cloud

As angels sing loud

Hymns

about the redemption of sins

Would, I think

Drive me to drink.

The devil would wink

And invite me to sink

To his abode below.

Should I choose to go

There would be good cheer.

bitter beer

and a warm fire, forever near