Friday, 5 February 2016

How Seinfeld writes and every profane word I can think of for my Sacred and Profane weekly draw #scriptchat



There's a theory that ideas are more powerful (dramatic or funny) when you combine the Sacred and Profane.

Every Friday I add to my lists of Sacred and Profane, and now writing the words out for a weekly random draw to come up with new Sacred and Profane combinations, like...

Jerry Seinfeld's Pop Tarts Routine

Jerry Seinfeld talks about how he writes a routine, but the Pop Tarts one he uses as an example has lots and lots of sacred and profane combinations:

Jerry Seinfeld Interview: How to Write a Joke | The New York Times



as a kid (childhood=sacred) back of head blowing off (disfigurement=profane)

orange juice (sacred) hack at with a knife (profane)

committing a murder before you got on the school bus (sacred and profane)

wrapping your lips (sacred) around a wood-chipper (profane)

chimps (sacred) in the dirt (profane), playing (sacred) with sticks (profane)

I've now written out all my Profanes - it doesn't feel right calling them profanities, because words themselves are Sacred.

Here they are ready for the first draw week after next, I think

My list of every profane word for the Sacred and Profane weekly draw - Part One




Did I miss any profanes? They might be in the part 2 video next week, but it'd be great to be left any in comments here

The complete list of sacred and profane words is here

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My hilarious Energy Performance Certificate man sketch with my wife #BritishDadStuff


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Thursday, 28 January 2016

My hilarious Energy Performance Certificate man sketch with my wife #BritishDadStuff



You know you are a Great British Dad when...

You have conversations like this.

My Energy Performance Certificate man sketch


INT. LIVING ROOM - DAY

Among PILE OF PACKING BOXES.

MY WIFE:
The EPC man came round today.

ME:
A?

MY WIFE:
The EPC man came round--

ME:
A?

MY WIFE:
The EPC man--

ME:
A?

MY WIFE:
Your tea's cold.

ME:
(BEAT) A?



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Deadbeat Dad Dirty Dishes... its Round 4 of my Great British Dad Gameshow Challenge pilot thing #BritishDadStuff


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Wednesday, 27 January 2016

Deadbeat Dad Dirty Dishes... its Round 4 of my Great British Dad Gameshow Challenge pilot thing #BritishDadStuff



Here it is, the next round of my Great British Dad Gameshow Challenge

Round 4: Deadbeat Dad Dirty Dishes

It's all explained in the video below, but it's a freestyle round.

Every Dad has a dirty dish, usually done on those rare times they're on their own or got the house to themselves.

Mine in the pilot is "Orange Baileys Viennetta".

Get a pen, the recipe is:
Some Vienetta
1x Orange
1x Bottle of Baileys


Here's the pilot on this Youtube link here, or embedded here:




ME:
"Hello, I'm Neil and this is Round 4 of the Great British Dad Gameshow Challenge Thing.

So this is round 4, it's a bit of a freeform round...
It's difficult to work out a point scoring system for this.

It might need to have some kind of judge, even though judges on gameshows suck,
but there might be a way round that.

Anyway, the rules of this round are really simple.
Every Dad has got within them a dish,
a Deadbeat Dad Dirty Dish.

It's the kind of thing they cook when they're by themselves,
or late at night when they've got the house to themselves?

I mentioned this to a friend of mine, Fay,
and she said her dad's Deadbeat Dad Dirty Dish was basically beans on toast.
When the beans are cooking, just before the end, you put in a can of tuna as well.

My dish, my Deadbeat Dad Dirty Dish, is more of a dessert.
So here we go, and let's see how this pilot works out.
[ATONAL THEME MUSIC]

"So we've got the Viennetta,
I've grated some, I've zested some orange.
Now here comes the Baileys.
Mmmmmm.

That's Viennetta Orange Baileys.
Or Viennetta Baileys Orange.
So there you have it, that's one of the reasons why I am not a food blogger.
But that's round 4 of the Great British Dad Gameshow challenge pilot thing.
If you've got a Deadbeat Dad Dirty Dish, tweet me!
Or leave a comment under this video.
And we'll try out some of your recipes.
Don't forget to subscribe, it really helps me keep this thing going.


Do you have a Deadbeat Dad Dirty Dish? Leave me a link or a recipe in the comments here!

Or


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I want to hug all Old Ladies in wheelchairs #BritishDadStuff


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Tuesday, 26 January 2016

I want to hug all Old Ladies in wheelchairs #BritishDadStuff



I have a visceral reaction to Old Ladies in wheelchairs.

I can't help it... I see them and I want to hug them in the way that Old Ladies want to hug babies.

They're being pushed by their daughter or husband - thinking about it, I've clocked this a few times and I don't think I've ever seen them being pushed by someone who'd look like their son.

They always have mad hair: where it’s been combed and brushed into its former glory but it hasn’t gone the way it’s meant to.
It's defiant, in a way the legs no longer are.
And it’s beautiful.

The wheelchair old lady doesn’t believe it, but it’s as much a part of them as their smile.

And it’s the hair over the wheelchair back that always catches my attention first.

And I think how lucky you are that can can push her around in the wheelchair.

You haven't got long - it seems like a grind and you’ve probably taken hours with the carers to get her dressed and into the wheelchair.
And everything you're doing is wrong.
And you've got the same long list of tasks and feeding when you get back in.
But how lucky are you, that you’ve got one more day of doing that.

And I see the hair and I think, do you think they'd let me have a go?
Just one more push.


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My list of every sacred word I can think of for my upcoming Sacred and Profane weekly draw. Think they're all here.


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Monday, 25 January 2016

My list of every sacred word I can think of for my upcoming Sacred and Profane weekly draw. Think they're all here.



Heartlake City, from Lego Friends

There's a theory that you get more powerful artistic ideas when you combine the sacred with the profane.

Like the home to Olivia, Andrea, Emma, Mia and Stephanie... the Lego Friends.

Heartlake City

Heart (sacred) lake (sacred) City (profane)

In a couple of weeks I'll start the weekly draw to combine different sacreds and profanes, but first I need the sacreds on cards to pull from the hat. (It won't be a hat. At the moment, in my head it's two Jiffy bags... but just thought I could get something better. Like a helmet for the profanes. And er, something nice for the sacreds. A sea grass basket. Or a leaf bowl.)

Anyway, here is every sacred I came up with last year.

Except my action camera cuts itself out after 25 minutes.
It's a Ricoh feature, that I only realised after 40 minutes.
Most of them are on here, so you get the jist.

My list of every sacred word for the Sacred and Profane weekly draw




Did I miss any? It'd be great to be left any in comments here



My complete list of sacred and profane words is here

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I feel sorry for CEOs of big companies... because I am a Great British Dad #BritishDadStuff


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Thursday, 21 January 2016

I feel sorry for CEOs of big companies... because I am a Great British Dad #BritishDadStuff



You know that you are a Great British Dad when...

You feel sorry for CEOs of multinational companies, because...


...they don't get to help push their neighbour's car round the corner to the garage in the middle of a Wednesday afternoon.

Or dance in the kitchen to "My First, My Last, My Everything" just because the school-run got home a bit early.

Or giggle at the dog on the front lawn pulling itself along to scratch its bum.

Or offer the bus driver of the Guildford Park & Ride
the 5th doughnut in a pack of 5,
scoffed by their family of 4,
on the back row of 3 seats,
out of sight of his rear-view mirror.

Or bounce with their kids for ten minutes too long on a trampoline.


I know they don't do these things.

Because they don't talk about doing these things.

How's that share price and 3-year strategy going?

Ah, nice.




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Dinner vs. Tea - the battle over our kids language continues #BritishDadStuff


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Wednesday, 20 January 2016

Dinner vs. Tea - the battle over our kids language continues #BritishDadStuff



The Ongoing War over our child pronouncing toothpaste as "tuth" and Dinner vs. Tea.

I love my wife - the mother of our kids - and I'm proud of her heritage.

Which just happens to be from the West of England - round the areas of Cheltenham, Gloucester, Forest of Dean.


She is really well-spoken, and the only accent...
Literally - the only accent - is one word.

One single word.

"Tooth".

Is pronounced "Tuth".

"I don't have any tuthpaste"
"I've got tuth ache!"
"Will we get any money from the Tuth Fairy?"


No.
No no no no.


Why can't I let her have that one word?

Why has it thrown me that now that's how our kids pronounce it?


Is it some kind of DNA war going on there where my genes have to triumph?

I hope to pass on to my son a working knowledge of the one-way systems of North London and Male Pattern Baldness, so what's wrong with this one word?




There's actually another word that we're fighting for in our household too,
and I've seen it in other parents who have children of a North-South dual heritage.

Tea.

Dinner.

It's dinner.


I know this is controversial, but it's barmy.

We've never discussed it - it's a silent one-word war of attrition - over our kids' minds.

Whoever gets "tea" or "dinner" used more will win.


Before heading off for a birthday, our four year old daughter summed it up when she asked -
"Will there be party tea?"

Party tea.

What is party tea?

Is it a drink?
Or an event involving the drink?


I get it - it's a shortening of Afternoon Tea.

But fish-fingers at 5pm is not a course at The Ritz.

So like the North-South skirmishes on the Korean Border, through repeated minor skirmishes, wins that aren't wins and constant propaganda-pushing our cause, we each both know deep down...
that we shall prevail.


All my British Dad Stuff is here

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Being cool to the really cool older kids in Gospel Oak Primary school. Orchestra. 1981.


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Tuesday, 19 January 2016

Being cool to the really cool older kids in Gospel Oak Primary school. Orchestra. 1981.


(I can name every kid in my class. I cheat, with a copy of the school concert programme, but I can still name them. I won't in case they want their privacy... but I know they were in my class.)

I remember really clearly being in thrall to some kids two years above me in Gospel Oak Primary School.

They were so cool because they were the Saxophone section of Mr. Hays School Orchestra.

(Richard Hays is uber-famous to the kids of NW3 - there used to be a facebook fan page dedicated to stories about him on Facebook, and he deserves a post in his own right. One day.)

In breaks, the three of them - in my head it was William Palin (son of the comedy god and national treasure), Demitri Doganis (the BAFTA award winning documentary filmmaker) and Alex Garland (Oscar award-winning novellist who wrote The Beach and 28 Days Later etc etc, but was better known to me then as Theo's big brother).

I'm sure I've got these names wrong - but those three were definitely in my school in the year above, and hung out with each other, and were really really cool.


(This is where it happened - only photo I could find of the hall was from this flooring company.
Funny thing is it's the exact angle I remember staring from as a kid).



They would play "that" tune from Geno by Dexy's Midnight Runners.

In the next little break that came up, I mustered up the courage to have a go at it on my clarinet. (I only started the clarinet so I could get up to a Saxophone, which I never did. Maybe my parents just told me that because they couldn't afford it).

Anyway, having worked out the tune under my breath to get the notes right, I let rip and blasted it out. And the three of them did a double-take... then... made approving noises and - William, in my head - said "Look at him - he can play Geno!" and they all gave me that older mentor nod of "hang in there kid!".

I was in seventh heaven in the second year.
Is it on - or in - 7th Heaven?
Either way, I felt cool.

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Saying hello on a country path. Or not. Which are you?


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Monday, 18 January 2016

Saying hello on a country path. Or not. Which are you?



I'm in a field in the middle of nowhere.

Which are you?

There is a 50/50 split - clean between having to say "Hello!" to the complete stranger other person walking past...

...which means the other half is trying to avoid it.

This is what's in one of our heads:

EXT. COUNTRY PATH IN THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE - DAY

(VOICEOVER)
"You're in the middle of nowhere.
That is why you're there.
You haven't gone there because it's a place to socialise or meet the community or make new friends.

That's what Post Office queues are for.

Some Divine Creator or profound algorithm - depending on your beliefs - has provided this beautiful landscape to drink in.

But you, you, that's not enough for you.
You also need to get into my eyeline just so that I can acknowledge you.

I will never see you again.

I promise you, we'll never have this again.

And yet you want your presence to be known, and you want me to let you know that I know you know of my presence.

Does that pretty much cover it?

Maybe we can go through it in more detail... maybe even during our next non-conversation in the middle of nowhere."

(THEN, OUT LOUD)
Hello."

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My new inner arm tattoo and a pair of filthy mugs - yet another update of #ArmTattooWisdom


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