You have no idea how good it is to be with my daughter Ashley, she GETS me, she talks fast, she finishes my sentences and makes me laugh like no one else and I love her so much it hurts. We sat there on the sofa and we chatted and she got a whole conversation in about “How did the TV people meetings go? How were the gigs? Did I speak clear? Was I funny? Did I call the journalist that called today? Did I mention to them about my show in NZ? Did I talk to the promoters for Edinburgh festival? Did I pay my cheques into the bank?”
Husband sits on the sidelines trying to chip in with “Look at the scarf I got”
As Ashley snaps her two fingers at him to shut up as ‘we are talking and we will get back to you and that scarf in a minute’ he gets it and hushes as she carries on updating everything and processing it all quickly in her head and making comments,
Husband can never do all that so fast, he has to analyse everything and slowly talk through it…how I miss her quick talk!
Had fun on the flight coming home…husband sat away from me as he needed leg room and I sat alone. As the flight landed, and I mean after it landed and was taxiing into the place where planes park to let us off, I switched my phone on and took a call from a very popular TV show that are asking me to come on a s a guest…it was exciting news and I listened to the answer machine message.
I watched the plane come to a full stop and as I stood up after the seat belt sign clicked off a big man in a checked shirt in front of me was standing up already and said “You are not supposed to turn you phone on when the plane is taxiing”
Everyone looked at me as they were struggling and rushing (why, the fucking plane doors aren’t opened, you won’t get off any faster) they all stared at me in hushed silence.
“Yes, I know I almost made the plane crash in mid flight as it was on the ground…shut up, mind your business, the pilot is probably on his mobile, it is scientifically proven that it wont interfere and we ARE ON THE GROUND”
He stood there and repeated it “You are not supposed to switch on your phone”
Ok I know this but we were almost at a stop, so I added “What’s wrong? are you a frustrated airhostess?”
By this time people were so close to us and watching it unfold, husband was shaking his head across the aisle as he knew I would not back down
“I was trying to see how my mum was doing in hospital” I added with a sad face. Now I know that wrong and my mum is dead but he was annoying me and I was determined to win this, even if I had to hit below the belt.
The airhostess looked at us and said “What is going on?”
“That man had a rant at me for using my phone as the plane was on the ground taxiing, I feel vulnerable and my mum is in hospital, and whilst we are at it, he got out of his seat before the seat belt sign went off” The airhostess looked at him and shook her head.
I won. I am not proud of my obstinate behaviour but give me a break.
He looked down and shuffled off…I mean please do intervene if someone is running up the plane with a hand axe trying to kill the staff, but fuck off if I am using my phone…I am not putting anyone’s life in danger, especially after the plane is at a virtual stop…incidentally there were four other people using phones, all men…he never said anything to them.
Tuesday, January 31, 2006
Sunday, January 29, 2006
Leaving London….
Well it’s been fun being here, I do love London and am back next weekend for the Malcolm Hardee Tribute night at Hackney Empire. Malcolm was a comedy promoter and all round South London Pirate who died tragically this time last year. You can read all about him here www.malcolmhardee.co.uk
He was a fabulous nutter of a man, who was loved by many.
So I am looking forward to coming back for the gig, and I will be honoured to play at such a great gig with so many great names on the bill.
This week will be mental as I am starting my workshops for “Comedy for Confidence” with young kids in Glasgow, helping them using comedy skills to hopefully give them an alternative to sitting on their asses and possibly getting involved in drugs…though how effective that will be I don’t really know.
I also have dental appointments to get these nasty teeth fixed, I have meetings with a charity I am involved in and a press call…then I am off to Aberdeen to gig and flying straight from there to London!
I don’t know if I will have time to piss to be honest…
I have had great gigs in London, the one woman show at Red Rose Comedy club was a great night, I so love doing the whole hour as opposed to the short sets that I do in some clubs.
Had lunch with Monica today and she gave me some lovely birthday gifts, am amazing tub of Clarins body mousse and expensive mascara, that Ashley will promptly borrow from me and never return. So clever Monica bought me THREE of them to ensure I at least got one. I don’t like anyone else using my eye make up in case I get an infection, as that happened before at the BAFTA TV and Film awards in 2001.
I was in the fancy VIP toilets and a famous actress (she who shall not be named) asked me if she could borrow my make up to touch up and I reluctantly agreed. That week I got a big stye in my eye and I am convinced she gave it to me.
Now if I wanted to catch an infectious disease from a famous person then I want it to be ‘crabs’ from Colin Farrell…not a fucking eye zit from some silly girl who forgot to bring a handbag!
So I will be back at the BAFTA awards this month and am so looking forward to it. I am not taking make up with me, if it doesn’t stay on my face then fuck it…I am not re-applying it over and over again.
Talk to you all from Glasgow.
He was a fabulous nutter of a man, who was loved by many.
So I am looking forward to coming back for the gig, and I will be honoured to play at such a great gig with so many great names on the bill.
This week will be mental as I am starting my workshops for “Comedy for Confidence” with young kids in Glasgow, helping them using comedy skills to hopefully give them an alternative to sitting on their asses and possibly getting involved in drugs…though how effective that will be I don’t really know.
I also have dental appointments to get these nasty teeth fixed, I have meetings with a charity I am involved in and a press call…then I am off to Aberdeen to gig and flying straight from there to London!
I don’t know if I will have time to piss to be honest…
I have had great gigs in London, the one woman show at Red Rose Comedy club was a great night, I so love doing the whole hour as opposed to the short sets that I do in some clubs.
Had lunch with Monica today and she gave me some lovely birthday gifts, am amazing tub of Clarins body mousse and expensive mascara, that Ashley will promptly borrow from me and never return. So clever Monica bought me THREE of them to ensure I at least got one. I don’t like anyone else using my eye make up in case I get an infection, as that happened before at the BAFTA TV and Film awards in 2001.
I was in the fancy VIP toilets and a famous actress (she who shall not be named) asked me if she could borrow my make up to touch up and I reluctantly agreed. That week I got a big stye in my eye and I am convinced she gave it to me.
Now if I wanted to catch an infectious disease from a famous person then I want it to be ‘crabs’ from Colin Farrell…not a fucking eye zit from some silly girl who forgot to bring a handbag!
So I will be back at the BAFTA awards this month and am so looking forward to it. I am not taking make up with me, if it doesn’t stay on my face then fuck it…I am not re-applying it over and over again.
Talk to you all from Glasgow.
Saturday, January 28, 2006
Late Nights and Comedy Fun….
Had a great gig last night at Laughing Horse Wimbledon, nice crowd there every time I go I love it, except I gave husband all my cash before I left as he was going up to Camden to meet his pals, I knew it would be fine as I was getting paid at the gig and I haven’t been to the bank. Anyway after the gig I was paid in a cheque! Fuck I was penniless! I had to SKIP the train back and plead “I lost my ticket” when I came to Waterloo, the guy believed me (I am such a liar) and then I went to a late night party with Monica. I could have gone to a bank and withdrew cash on my card, but fuck that.
So I get to the party and it was in the most amazingly decorated architecturally wonderful house…of course the guy’s are gay that designed and own it…but wow! The light switches have IPOD controls that pipe music through the whole house! I WANT THAT…how cool? Anyway I stayed out very late and fell into bed in the dark, with full make up, half dressed!
Woke up this afternoon and got freaked as I felt a big man lying in bed beside me, his leg wrapped around mine all hot and hairy…and then remembered husband is here!
I actually got a fright; I thought “Who is that? Why am I in bed with a man? Did I pick up a gay boy and make him straight last night? Did I finally bag 50 cent?”
“Janey, you ok?” Husband asked quietly.
“Yes, I just forgot you were here” I answered
“Well who did you think it was, do you normally wake up with strange men?” he asked me.
So that will be the tone set for the day! I should learn to shut my mouth.
I have a one woman show tonight, so I best go and get myself a shower and straighten my head out. I am old and tired, no more partying for me.
So I get to the party and it was in the most amazingly decorated architecturally wonderful house…of course the guy’s are gay that designed and own it…but wow! The light switches have IPOD controls that pipe music through the whole house! I WANT THAT…how cool? Anyway I stayed out very late and fell into bed in the dark, with full make up, half dressed!
Woke up this afternoon and got freaked as I felt a big man lying in bed beside me, his leg wrapped around mine all hot and hairy…and then remembered husband is here!
I actually got a fright; I thought “Who is that? Why am I in bed with a man? Did I pick up a gay boy and make him straight last night? Did I finally bag 50 cent?”
“Janey, you ok?” Husband asked quietly.
“Yes, I just forgot you were here” I answered
“Well who did you think it was, do you normally wake up with strange men?” he asked me.
So that will be the tone set for the day! I should learn to shut my mouth.
I have a one woman show tonight, so I best go and get myself a shower and straighten my head out. I am old and tired, no more partying for me.
Friday, January 27, 2006
Thursday, January 26, 2006
Night Out was awesome….
Well there I was dressed up in my BAFTA dress (this is a frock I bought for BAFTA awards in Feb-that is the British Version of the Oscars!). I thought I looked smart, but the dress had a low V cleavage and the necklace I wore has thick silver strands that dip straight into the valley of my boobs…this concerned me as it looked like your eyes had to follow the chain straight into my breasts!! I was so self conscious of it all night, despite people telling it looked fab.
The Burns night for Charity was so good, 25th January celebrates Rabbie Burns a Scottish poet I am sure you are all familiar with; we eat haggis and recite Scottish poems, all good fun.
When we arrived at St. Martins Lane, the paparazzi were all over the pavements taking shots of the very rich and famous, Monica and I caused a wee stir as the photographers heard our Scottish voices, then on looking at us realising we were not famous they promptly ignored us… I stood there and shouted “I am Prince Williams girlfriend, don’t take photos of me!” The guys just laughed.
When Monica and I got there we met first Duncan Bannatyne, he is a self made millionaire and all round entrepreneur who stars in a UK TV show called Dragons Den. The object of the show is for new entrepreneurs to impress the five millionaires with some innovative business scheme and get their financial backing. I do a joke about it in my act and I did this for Duncan who laughed and enjoyed the piss take of it. He is a really interesting funny Scot to meet.
We had drinks and then we all had to go through to the main room for dinner. I did get to chat to Ewan McGregor, Sharleen Spiteri, Jamie Theakston and many more famous and interesting people! What a great night out.
I knew Jamie from last years Edinburgh fringe, we met and chatted one night at Gilded Balloon Bar, he is so lovely and very very tall.
We even got a great goodie bag on leaving which included a signed copy of Ewan and Charlie Boormans book, a signed copy of Texas CD, a Cashmere scarf, some lovely aftershave and lipstick…it was just great fun.
I love London.
The Burns night for Charity was so good, 25th January celebrates Rabbie Burns a Scottish poet I am sure you are all familiar with; we eat haggis and recite Scottish poems, all good fun.
When we arrived at St. Martins Lane, the paparazzi were all over the pavements taking shots of the very rich and famous, Monica and I caused a wee stir as the photographers heard our Scottish voices, then on looking at us realising we were not famous they promptly ignored us… I stood there and shouted “I am Prince Williams girlfriend, don’t take photos of me!” The guys just laughed.
When Monica and I got there we met first Duncan Bannatyne, he is a self made millionaire and all round entrepreneur who stars in a UK TV show called Dragons Den. The object of the show is for new entrepreneurs to impress the five millionaires with some innovative business scheme and get their financial backing. I do a joke about it in my act and I did this for Duncan who laughed and enjoyed the piss take of it. He is a really interesting funny Scot to meet.
We had drinks and then we all had to go through to the main room for dinner. I did get to chat to Ewan McGregor, Sharleen Spiteri, Jamie Theakston and many more famous and interesting people! What a great night out.
I knew Jamie from last years Edinburgh fringe, we met and chatted one night at Gilded Balloon Bar, he is so lovely and very very tall.
We even got a great goodie bag on leaving which included a signed copy of Ewan and Charlie Boormans book, a signed copy of Texas CD, a Cashmere scarf, some lovely aftershave and lipstick…it was just great fun.
I love London.
Wednesday, January 25, 2006
Big Night Out….
So I am lying on the sofa chatting to newly arrived husband (he came to London with the promise of kisses). Monica calls and says “Do you have your BAFTA dress with you?” I listen and think and say “Yes actually I do, I brought it with me so I can buy shoes to match in London”
She then says quickly “Good, get it on we are going to a charity ball tonight, Ewan McGregor, Sharleen Spiteri and all the big stars are having a Burns Night ball and I have two tickets!”
So husband is abandoned and I am standing here in a fancy frock (not tartan though!) and waiting to go to a ball!
I can’t believe how quickly I got ready and neither can Monica she called me and said “Have you got your make up on?” I quickly put down my lipstick and replied “Yes”, “Ok put more on all over again because you never wear enough and your strange face eats it, apply it again and see you soon”.
So I am looking at myself and am sure I look like a marionette!
I am looking forward to my big unexpected night out…..husbands kisses will have to wait….tell you all tomorrow if Ewan McGregor asks me to go Paris, in the springtime with the warm wind in my hair.
She then says quickly “Good, get it on we are going to a charity ball tonight, Ewan McGregor, Sharleen Spiteri and all the big stars are having a Burns Night ball and I have two tickets!”
So husband is abandoned and I am standing here in a fancy frock (not tartan though!) and waiting to go to a ball!
I can’t believe how quickly I got ready and neither can Monica she called me and said “Have you got your make up on?” I quickly put down my lipstick and replied “Yes”, “Ok put more on all over again because you never wear enough and your strange face eats it, apply it again and see you soon”.
So I am looking at myself and am sure I look like a marionette!
I am looking forward to my big unexpected night out…..husbands kisses will have to wait….tell you all tomorrow if Ewan McGregor asks me to go Paris, in the springtime with the warm wind in my hair.
Tuesday, January 24, 2006
Sorry I have been away...
Sorry I have been away…
So London is alive and well and so am I. Things have been odd, the gigs going well, meetings going great, had a TV company call today about possible interesting venture. Just got the news that I am confirmed for the New Zealand Comedy fest, I want to take Ashley my daughter with me as she will make a documentary of the whole tour and that’s going to be so good. I won’t be lonely as she is great company. I am so lucky my girl and I have a great relationship, she is nineteen and gorgeous and talented! She is also in this business and we are both developing a sketch show as well…so that will awesome.
I miss her so much when I am away; she really does make me laugh like no one does. We are going to travel across the world together and that’s a special thing to do with her. She helps develop my act and directs me as well…she can be awfully critical but that’s how honest we are with each other.
I was out last night with Monica, we celebrated both our birthdays belatedly…we went for dinner and stuff, it was fun.
My teeth whitening things is sore, I can tell you. That bleach stuff I have to squeeze into those wee rubbery moulds that I insert into my mouth as I sleep HURT! Husband will love it as I can’t speak when they are in…he is fucking happy.
I have made many friends through the world on my blog and that’s amazing, like my mate Curry who is Iraq keeps in touch and Steve in Mombassa, Leighton, Surrogate and Lady G and Paul and John in NY and all the rest (sorry if I missed all the names)…you have no idea how happy it makes me to have all these people write to me and make me happy when I am lonely or down. THANKS!
I am writing tonight. So I best be off and get back to my real job!
So London is alive and well and so am I. Things have been odd, the gigs going well, meetings going great, had a TV company call today about possible interesting venture. Just got the news that I am confirmed for the New Zealand Comedy fest, I want to take Ashley my daughter with me as she will make a documentary of the whole tour and that’s going to be so good. I won’t be lonely as she is great company. I am so lucky my girl and I have a great relationship, she is nineteen and gorgeous and talented! She is also in this business and we are both developing a sketch show as well…so that will awesome.
I miss her so much when I am away; she really does make me laugh like no one does. We are going to travel across the world together and that’s a special thing to do with her. She helps develop my act and directs me as well…she can be awfully critical but that’s how honest we are with each other.
I was out last night with Monica, we celebrated both our birthdays belatedly…we went for dinner and stuff, it was fun.
My teeth whitening things is sore, I can tell you. That bleach stuff I have to squeeze into those wee rubbery moulds that I insert into my mouth as I sleep HURT! Husband will love it as I can’t speak when they are in…he is fucking happy.
I have made many friends through the world on my blog and that’s amazing, like my mate Curry who is Iraq keeps in touch and Steve in Mombassa, Leighton, Surrogate and Lady G and Paul and John in NY and all the rest (sorry if I missed all the names)…you have no idea how happy it makes me to have all these people write to me and make me happy when I am lonely or down. THANKS!
I am writing tonight. So I best be off and get back to my real job!
Sunday, January 22, 2006
London is Cold and that whale died…
The whale in the Thames is dead, poor big thing. I saw it swimming in the river behind the flat here in Westminster. It was cool to watch but sad and am glad it is out of its misery, years ago if a whale came into the Thames that would be seen by soothsayers as an omen…maybe its time for Tony Blair to bring the troops home?
Went to BBC in the morning, to do my stint on Radio 4 show ‘Loose Ends ‘ and it went well. I was interviewing Iestyn Edwards, UK 15 stone Prima Ballerina cabaret act who was in Basra entertaining the troops! You can listen to the show again, by going to http://www.bbc.co.uk/radio4/comedy/looseends.shtml and click listen to latest show and you can hear the show and the interview I did. There was a great band on the show called the ‘Story’s their music was awesome.
Last night I went to the gig in Crouch End and it went great, I love getting on stage and doing my stuff. Tonight I am going to do my second show at Crouch end and come home, pretend 50 cent is waiting for me for hot sex. Except I couldn’t call him 50 cent, as shouting “50 Cent, lick me” doesn’t sound right, so I may call him Curtis, as by that time we will be intimate. Can you tell I am lonely tonight?
Went to BBC in the morning, to do my stint on Radio 4 show ‘Loose Ends ‘ and it went well. I was interviewing Iestyn Edwards, UK 15 stone Prima Ballerina cabaret act who was in Basra entertaining the troops! You can listen to the show again, by going to http://www.bbc.co.uk/radio4/comedy/looseends.shtml and click listen to latest show and you can hear the show and the interview I did. There was a great band on the show called the ‘Story’s their music was awesome.
Last night I went to the gig in Crouch End and it went great, I love getting on stage and doing my stuff. Tonight I am going to do my second show at Crouch end and come home, pretend 50 cent is waiting for me for hot sex. Except I couldn’t call him 50 cent, as shouting “50 Cent, lick me” doesn’t sound right, so I may call him Curtis, as by that time we will be intimate. Can you tell I am lonely tonight?
Friday, January 20, 2006
My Birthday day…
It’s been an odd day; I spent time this morning doing business on the phone, sat about in my tee shirt and knickers, then after about four hours of sitting watching TV- I decided I might need a shower as I started to smell like Arbroath (a small Scottish sea side smelly town).
I checked myself in the mirror and I notice that I am growing a fuck off huge spot above my eyebrow, so if I slowly nurture it and encourage it to grow, I will be able to apply to freak fairs as the girlfriend of the Elephant Man!
So it being my birthday and all I decided to treat myself to a heat and serve dinner for one at Sainsbury’s. So I walked round to Pimlico and tried to avoid people staring at my huge red lump on my eyebrow.
Just when I thought the day could not get anymore exciting four police cars screeched to a halt outside the wee charity shop where I buy books. I thought that maybe something exciting was happening and by God here I am again, in the centre of the activity, my bloggers would love a story that involved the police.
I stopped and watched and got my camera phone at the ready, there were policemen running from the vehicles, I moved to get a closer look and the six coppers decked a tiny wee drunk woman.
She must have been about five stones in weight, she stood about 4 feet tall (couldn’t really tell as she was crouched like a wee drunk hobbit) she was carrying what appeared to be stolen goods from the charity shop!
Unless she was Osama bin Laden in his cunning disguise as ‘Betty the shouting Pimlico drunk’ then there was no reason for that many coppers! She was fucking screaming and begging to be let go!
Crowds gathered, so I got bored and moved off wondering why so many policemen needed to control that wee poor lady.
I went off down to Vauxhall Bridge to see the lost whale that has swam into the Thames. Again the place was awash with policemen and reporters maybe that was Osama Bin Laden’s secret submarine making its way up the river to explode at the Houses of parliament?
Poor wee whale, it was floundering about and I thought, maybe this is the time to go swimming…how slim would I look if a beached whale was already there?
Am off to heat up my sausage and mash….maybe a big gorgeous man will come to my door tonight and present me with a dilemma…or maybe I will just eat the sausage dinner and sleep?
I checked myself in the mirror and I notice that I am growing a fuck off huge spot above my eyebrow, so if I slowly nurture it and encourage it to grow, I will be able to apply to freak fairs as the girlfriend of the Elephant Man!
So it being my birthday and all I decided to treat myself to a heat and serve dinner for one at Sainsbury’s. So I walked round to Pimlico and tried to avoid people staring at my huge red lump on my eyebrow.
Just when I thought the day could not get anymore exciting four police cars screeched to a halt outside the wee charity shop where I buy books. I thought that maybe something exciting was happening and by God here I am again, in the centre of the activity, my bloggers would love a story that involved the police.
I stopped and watched and got my camera phone at the ready, there were policemen running from the vehicles, I moved to get a closer look and the six coppers decked a tiny wee drunk woman.
She must have been about five stones in weight, she stood about 4 feet tall (couldn’t really tell as she was crouched like a wee drunk hobbit) she was carrying what appeared to be stolen goods from the charity shop!
Unless she was Osama bin Laden in his cunning disguise as ‘Betty the shouting Pimlico drunk’ then there was no reason for that many coppers! She was fucking screaming and begging to be let go!
Crowds gathered, so I got bored and moved off wondering why so many policemen needed to control that wee poor lady.
I went off down to Vauxhall Bridge to see the lost whale that has swam into the Thames. Again the place was awash with policemen and reporters maybe that was Osama Bin Laden’s secret submarine making its way up the river to explode at the Houses of parliament?
Poor wee whale, it was floundering about and I thought, maybe this is the time to go swimming…how slim would I look if a beached whale was already there?
Am off to heat up my sausage and mash….maybe a big gorgeous man will come to my door tonight and present me with a dilemma…or maybe I will just eat the sausage dinner and sleep?
Happy Birthday To me…
The Real Janey Godley!
Yes, I am finally 45 years old! I have hit middle age today and it’s good. Can you believe it? I was so looking forward to this age. I am not in the business of letting shit get me down, I am currently having my teeth whitened and am losing weight, yet I do know this is the beginning of the downward slide, who cares?
I also realise that I have been married longer than I have been single, that’s an achievement I suspect. So I am sitting here alone in Westminster, its very late or very early depending what you make of 1am, and I feel good about my stuff so far. I don’t see this really being the end as its only half time realistically and goals can still be scored in my life.
I remember my tenth birthday clearly, my leg was encased in plaster due to the ‘Brownie’ road accident (see yesterdays blog) and I was lying in bed and my mammy got me a magic set. I was so very excited and the magic set really ignited my imagination, I loved the wee tricks I could do for my brothers and sister. I thought maybe one day I could grow up and do magic!
I suppose on reflection, life never does turn out the way you expect it to. I really thought back then that the best you could do was get a job in a factory and live in my street in a wee council house.
People like me didn’t have grand ambitions; we grew up, got married and had kids. That’s how it worked; we didn’t know people who did anything different.
Well I did kind of know someone sort of different, I had an aunt who lived near London, got married and never had kids, and she then travelled a bit. She eventually divorced her husband (unheard of where I came from, women took shit and lived with it).
She would descend on my family occasionally to see her sister (my mammy) and would turn up talking so posh with her English accent, she sounded like the Queen.
I knew nothing of her life, I did know that she would look down her nose at our poverty ridden home, which was strange, coz that was where she came from…anyway as years went on, she would arrive in a flurry of fancy cashmere scarves, wearing sunglasses and talking to us as if we were the cast of Les Miserables and would take my mammy out to the local pub and let the people who knew her from back then gaze on her expensive handbag and leather purse that bulged, talking of her travels to America.
I recall my mammy standing in cold piss smelling phone boxes calling my aunt on the phone begging cash from her, I know she did give it and my mammy probably exasperated the woman…my mammy was like that.
She once took me to her home in Maidenhead when I was 14 years old, she gave me a list of things I was not to talk about, stuff I wasn’t to mention and then dragged me around all her posh friends and have me sit there and chat to them. It was awful.
I do know now that she was a very lonely woman, she had been having an affair with her boss and when he got bored he turfed her out of her fancy cottage and she went to live in a small but expensive flat in Sussex. My mammy told me all this when I was a teenager.
As I got older and got married and went into owning a bar and some property, she would occasionally come visit me, I started to dislike her as she would pick fault with my life. I think she hated that one of the ‘poor family’ had actually made something of their life and she was no longer the woman with cash in the family…maybe I am wrong?
When I finally came out about the abuse from her brother David Percy, (my uncle) she went ballistic and refused to believe me. When I had successfully prosecuted him, she told me on the phone, she was no longer my aunt. This was no great loss; in fact it was good as I never regarded her anything but a shallow false woman who was quite lonely.
The good news was, my dad, my sister, my brothers and , I were still very close and nothing changed on my side, expect we all got stronger because we pulled together with other members of our extended family. That poor woman was left with the child abusing rapist brother. God help her. I do hope she has come through her life and is sitting somewhere happy after everything she has been through.
I don’t hate her, and the reason I am talking about her tonight is, I looked at myself in the reception hall downstairs in the big gilt mirror as I talked to the concierge and I saw that for a shocking moment I looked just like her, I don’t know why I recognised this as I don’t even think about her, but I did see her face in mine for a brief moment -she is also called Janey Godley. My mammy called me after her.
That’s no bad thing I suppose as she looked like my mammy slightly but I wish I looked more like my mammy!
Anyway life is still good at 45 years old.
I am organising to go to New Zealand on tour with my award winning comedy show with my daughter who will be making a documentary of the trip.(Ashley is at Uni studying film making and screen play studies).
I am on Radio 4 this weekend as the guest interviewer. My life is good just now and I am very lucky to have that, I do appreciate it.
I think that magic set I got back in 1971 did work, I have a blessed magical life and I never had to fuck the boss to get it.
Will the real Janey Godley please stand up?
Yes, I am finally 45 years old! I have hit middle age today and it’s good. Can you believe it? I was so looking forward to this age. I am not in the business of letting shit get me down, I am currently having my teeth whitened and am losing weight, yet I do know this is the beginning of the downward slide, who cares?
I also realise that I have been married longer than I have been single, that’s an achievement I suspect. So I am sitting here alone in Westminster, its very late or very early depending what you make of 1am, and I feel good about my stuff so far. I don’t see this really being the end as its only half time realistically and goals can still be scored in my life.
I remember my tenth birthday clearly, my leg was encased in plaster due to the ‘Brownie’ road accident (see yesterdays blog) and I was lying in bed and my mammy got me a magic set. I was so very excited and the magic set really ignited my imagination, I loved the wee tricks I could do for my brothers and sister. I thought maybe one day I could grow up and do magic!
I suppose on reflection, life never does turn out the way you expect it to. I really thought back then that the best you could do was get a job in a factory and live in my street in a wee council house.
People like me didn’t have grand ambitions; we grew up, got married and had kids. That’s how it worked; we didn’t know people who did anything different.
Well I did kind of know someone sort of different, I had an aunt who lived near London, got married and never had kids, and she then travelled a bit. She eventually divorced her husband (unheard of where I came from, women took shit and lived with it).
She would descend on my family occasionally to see her sister (my mammy) and would turn up talking so posh with her English accent, she sounded like the Queen.
I knew nothing of her life, I did know that she would look down her nose at our poverty ridden home, which was strange, coz that was where she came from…anyway as years went on, she would arrive in a flurry of fancy cashmere scarves, wearing sunglasses and talking to us as if we were the cast of Les Miserables and would take my mammy out to the local pub and let the people who knew her from back then gaze on her expensive handbag and leather purse that bulged, talking of her travels to America.
I recall my mammy standing in cold piss smelling phone boxes calling my aunt on the phone begging cash from her, I know she did give it and my mammy probably exasperated the woman…my mammy was like that.
She once took me to her home in Maidenhead when I was 14 years old, she gave me a list of things I was not to talk about, stuff I wasn’t to mention and then dragged me around all her posh friends and have me sit there and chat to them. It was awful.
I do know now that she was a very lonely woman, she had been having an affair with her boss and when he got bored he turfed her out of her fancy cottage and she went to live in a small but expensive flat in Sussex. My mammy told me all this when I was a teenager.
As I got older and got married and went into owning a bar and some property, she would occasionally come visit me, I started to dislike her as she would pick fault with my life. I think she hated that one of the ‘poor family’ had actually made something of their life and she was no longer the woman with cash in the family…maybe I am wrong?
When I finally came out about the abuse from her brother David Percy, (my uncle) she went ballistic and refused to believe me. When I had successfully prosecuted him, she told me on the phone, she was no longer my aunt. This was no great loss; in fact it was good as I never regarded her anything but a shallow false woman who was quite lonely.
The good news was, my dad, my sister, my brothers and , I were still very close and nothing changed on my side, expect we all got stronger because we pulled together with other members of our extended family. That poor woman was left with the child abusing rapist brother. God help her. I do hope she has come through her life and is sitting somewhere happy after everything she has been through.
I don’t hate her, and the reason I am talking about her tonight is, I looked at myself in the reception hall downstairs in the big gilt mirror as I talked to the concierge and I saw that for a shocking moment I looked just like her, I don’t know why I recognised this as I don’t even think about her, but I did see her face in mine for a brief moment -she is also called Janey Godley. My mammy called me after her.
That’s no bad thing I suppose as she looked like my mammy slightly but I wish I looked more like my mammy!
Anyway life is still good at 45 years old.
I am organising to go to New Zealand on tour with my award winning comedy show with my daughter who will be making a documentary of the trip.(Ashley is at Uni studying film making and screen play studies).
I am on Radio 4 this weekend as the guest interviewer. My life is good just now and I am very lucky to have that, I do appreciate it.
I think that magic set I got back in 1971 did work, I have a blessed magical life and I never had to fuck the boss to get it.
Will the real Janey Godley please stand up?
Thursday, January 19, 2006
Me and Christian Slater…
Yes, I know what a title! I was in Soho last night meeting Noel (comedy promoter and friend) outside the Groucho club in Dean Street. As I was waiting, a big armoured Limo drew up at the kerb and out came Allen Carr and Justin (two comics who have a TV show currently) I know Allen quite well and he said “Hello Janey” I smiled back and said “hi” they were joined by Christian Slater who was taking part in some sketch for their TV show.
Anyway, the camera crew were all around and as I tried to get out of their way and pass them big cars started rearing up on the pavement, there were wires and big bulky camera’s and people and I couldn’t get through them.
“Can you move please” said the burly camera man.
I was trying to get out of the wee circle they had created, I understand television and the precarious nature of doing shots in a street, but the street is so narrow and cars and taxis were almost on top of us and the only way for me to get out of the shot was to walk on the road. I stepped onto the road and a big fuck off van blasted its horn and almost squashed me, so I hopped into the pavement again.
“You are still in the shot darling” the patient camera man said.
“I am sorry; I know what you are saying but fucksake man I am not dying under a van for the show!” I blurted out as I was now ducking and practically crawling under Christian Slater’s legs to get to the back of the pavement, “I don’t want to fuck up your camera work, but I don’t want to die on the streets of Soho”
They laughed and waited till I was safely past them, Allen gave me a wave and I was off.
What they don’t know is I am notoriously bad at crossing roads and really scared of the traffic; I have been hit by cars around 5 times in my life. Once I was so badly hurt when I was nine, it took almost a year to walk again properly and I do still limp sometimes. On that occasion I was wearing my brownie uniform and going to the club to attempt to gain my Road safety badge! The irony still hurts!
Anyway, the camera crew were all around and as I tried to get out of their way and pass them big cars started rearing up on the pavement, there were wires and big bulky camera’s and people and I couldn’t get through them.
“Can you move please” said the burly camera man.
I was trying to get out of the wee circle they had created, I understand television and the precarious nature of doing shots in a street, but the street is so narrow and cars and taxis were almost on top of us and the only way for me to get out of the shot was to walk on the road. I stepped onto the road and a big fuck off van blasted its horn and almost squashed me, so I hopped into the pavement again.
“You are still in the shot darling” the patient camera man said.
“I am sorry; I know what you are saying but fucksake man I am not dying under a van for the show!” I blurted out as I was now ducking and practically crawling under Christian Slater’s legs to get to the back of the pavement, “I don’t want to fuck up your camera work, but I don’t want to die on the streets of Soho”
They laughed and waited till I was safely past them, Allen gave me a wave and I was off.
What they don’t know is I am notoriously bad at crossing roads and really scared of the traffic; I have been hit by cars around 5 times in my life. Once I was so badly hurt when I was nine, it took almost a year to walk again properly and I do still limp sometimes. On that occasion I was wearing my brownie uniform and going to the club to attempt to gain my Road safety badge! The irony still hurts!
Tuesday, January 17, 2006
Me and famous people and my minge
I was onstage tonight at a special gig, where Random/Ebury had invited all the major booksellers along to meet the authors. The gig was at a London comedy club where I normally perform, so it was cool for me. I was worried though as I imagined in my head that I needed to get these people to get the essence of me being a comic yet having written quite a moving sad book about my difficult past, so they could sell it on to the public and that would be hard.
There were also really famous comics and media people there and I was second on. Mark Thomas, Rhona Cameron, Julian Clary and Pierce Morgan were standing around, I was getting nervous. As soon as I hit the stage and took the mic it all went great, I managed to make them laugh and understand what the book was about.
Afterwards nice people who loved my bit came up and chatted about how they would be interested in having me come to their store to do signings and events.
I was so happy it worked, as soon as I relaxed and chatted with people, I ended up talking to this slim well spoken guy who was telling me how much he laughed at my stuff, so I told him a big story about how my daughter went on stage last year at the fringe and told everyone that I had grey pubes! He laughed aloud and we joked more and I got a wee bit more outrageous and told him some of the ‘can’t be printed illegal’ tales of the crooks I knew in my pub.
He told me he had written a cook book for Ebury, I asked his name and he told me Tom. I liked him he was funny, it wasn’t till later I found out he is Prince Charles’s step son – he is Camilla Parker Bowles’s son Tom!
Holy Fuck I had told the Heir to our Nations Throne’s stepson a joke about my minge.
Oh well…the other good news is my article that I wrote for London’s Time Out magazine came out today and it looks awesome!
There were also really famous comics and media people there and I was second on. Mark Thomas, Rhona Cameron, Julian Clary and Pierce Morgan were standing around, I was getting nervous. As soon as I hit the stage and took the mic it all went great, I managed to make them laugh and understand what the book was about.
Afterwards nice people who loved my bit came up and chatted about how they would be interested in having me come to their store to do signings and events.
I was so happy it worked, as soon as I relaxed and chatted with people, I ended up talking to this slim well spoken guy who was telling me how much he laughed at my stuff, so I told him a big story about how my daughter went on stage last year at the fringe and told everyone that I had grey pubes! He laughed aloud and we joked more and I got a wee bit more outrageous and told him some of the ‘can’t be printed illegal’ tales of the crooks I knew in my pub.
He told me he had written a cook book for Ebury, I asked his name and he told me Tom. I liked him he was funny, it wasn’t till later I found out he is Prince Charles’s step son – he is Camilla Parker Bowles’s son Tom!
Holy Fuck I had told the Heir to our Nations Throne’s stepson a joke about my minge.
Oh well…the other good news is my article that I wrote for London’s Time Out magazine came out today and it looks awesome!
Finally In London…
Cannot believe I was in Nottingham and Glasgow and London all within two days! The flight was amazingly quick after the last debacle when BA had us sit on the flight in December for three hours before it actually took off.
I am back in the luxury of Westminster, I so love this flat, the only problem is my husband is not here. So I got in had a sleep and got up to get ready for the Aristocrats Movie DVD launch tonight.
Now don’t be confused by the lovely Disney cat cartoon, this is an amazing documentary covering a whole bunch of the most famous comics in the world telling the dirtiest joke ever! You must see this…its just fucking funny as fuck.
So now I am home and you can tell my husband is not here, there is nothing to eat and nothing to drink, coz I didn’t bother going to the shops earlier and Westminster does not have late night shops, they have servants. My servant is in Glasgow.
Talk tomorrow.
I am back in the luxury of Westminster, I so love this flat, the only problem is my husband is not here. So I got in had a sleep and got up to get ready for the Aristocrats Movie DVD launch tonight.
Now don’t be confused by the lovely Disney cat cartoon, this is an amazing documentary covering a whole bunch of the most famous comics in the world telling the dirtiest joke ever! You must see this…its just fucking funny as fuck.
So now I am home and you can tell my husband is not here, there is nothing to eat and nothing to drink, coz I didn’t bother going to the shops earlier and Westminster does not have late night shops, they have servants. My servant is in Glasgow.
Talk tomorrow.
Sunday, January 15, 2006
Stamping on cocks
Stamping on cocks….
The gig went great last night, I am so glad I finally got over that wee moment that scared me. The club was heaving and the crowd were amazing. That made me happy.
The apartment we stayed in was lovely; except the bedroom was quite small and when the curtains were shut the place was in complete utter darkness. Now I like that except when I came in from the loo at 4am, and I fingered my way back round the bed, stepping precariously over my shoes and luggage on the floor and then threw myself onto the bed – I cracked my head right off the convex wooden fancy headboard.
I thought I had broken my fucking neck, husband woke up as I screamed “What did you do?” he asked me, as If I normally make that kind of noise in the middle of the night for fun!
“I couldn’t work out how long the bed was and then I managed to batter my head off the headboard” I squealed.
“Stop it will you? I am trying to sleep Janey” He muttered.
What did he think I was doing? Beating out a drum tune with my skull?
I cannot believe he said that, this from a man who farted so loudly it made a screaming noise that reverberated off the thin tight walls that I thought a seagull was being battered to death by wooden spoon…the noise was awful and it woke me up!
All this from a man whose penis wakes up at 5am and decides to make a play for my sleeping body, despite being told for the past 25 years not to..
As he gets aroused in the middle of the night, his brain must shout to his penis- “Don’t, don’t wake her, she gets mad when you wake her, trust me I remember this shit….don’t do it, she gets all shouty and sometimes grabby, you are on your own dude…don’t wake her if you know what’s good for you”
Meanwhile his penis shouts to the brain- “I am telling you she loves me waking her up, she loves nothing more than me nudging her awake”
His brain answers-“NO…she turns into a fucking wolverine….I am the brain I remember this stuff…don’t fucking wake her up for sex, I swear it will end in tears”
Then his penis does wake me, I turn…sit up, and shout into my husbands face “What have I fucking told you about trying to wake me at 5am? I am going to stamp on your cock!” Then I go back to sleep.
The brain whispers “Told you, see… you got us into this and tomorrow she will fucking stomping about the flat in a bad mood and not make dinner and be snappy all day coz you don’t ever listen”
Penis answers-“I am sorry, I thought she would like it…she used to like that”
Brain-“Yes…when she was nineteen years old, fucksake man she is nearly 45, when are you going to learn?”
He probably won’t ever learn until I actually stamp on his cock…I hope my step mum is not reading this, if you are PLEASE don’t!
Here is some nice stuff….
On the way home today we stopped off at Barnard Market town near Scotch Corner, it’s a wee picturesque town with a big castle ruins. They views were amazing, you can see them on
http://uk.photos.yahoo.com/janeygodley/
You can see them under Nottingham and Barnard, some nice pics.
I am off to London tomorrow, so I will be in touch soon.
The gig went great last night, I am so glad I finally got over that wee moment that scared me. The club was heaving and the crowd were amazing. That made me happy.
The apartment we stayed in was lovely; except the bedroom was quite small and when the curtains were shut the place was in complete utter darkness. Now I like that except when I came in from the loo at 4am, and I fingered my way back round the bed, stepping precariously over my shoes and luggage on the floor and then threw myself onto the bed – I cracked my head right off the convex wooden fancy headboard.
I thought I had broken my fucking neck, husband woke up as I screamed “What did you do?” he asked me, as If I normally make that kind of noise in the middle of the night for fun!
“I couldn’t work out how long the bed was and then I managed to batter my head off the headboard” I squealed.
“Stop it will you? I am trying to sleep Janey” He muttered.
What did he think I was doing? Beating out a drum tune with my skull?
I cannot believe he said that, this from a man who farted so loudly it made a screaming noise that reverberated off the thin tight walls that I thought a seagull was being battered to death by wooden spoon…the noise was awful and it woke me up!
All this from a man whose penis wakes up at 5am and decides to make a play for my sleeping body, despite being told for the past 25 years not to..
As he gets aroused in the middle of the night, his brain must shout to his penis- “Don’t, don’t wake her, she gets mad when you wake her, trust me I remember this shit….don’t do it, she gets all shouty and sometimes grabby, you are on your own dude…don’t wake her if you know what’s good for you”
Meanwhile his penis shouts to the brain- “I am telling you she loves me waking her up, she loves nothing more than me nudging her awake”
His brain answers-“NO…she turns into a fucking wolverine….I am the brain I remember this stuff…don’t fucking wake her up for sex, I swear it will end in tears”
Then his penis does wake me, I turn…sit up, and shout into my husbands face “What have I fucking told you about trying to wake me at 5am? I am going to stamp on your cock!” Then I go back to sleep.
The brain whispers “Told you, see… you got us into this and tomorrow she will fucking stomping about the flat in a bad mood and not make dinner and be snappy all day coz you don’t ever listen”
Penis answers-“I am sorry, I thought she would like it…she used to like that”
Brain-“Yes…when she was nineteen years old, fucksake man she is nearly 45, when are you going to learn?”
He probably won’t ever learn until I actually stamp on his cock…I hope my step mum is not reading this, if you are PLEASE don’t!
Here is some nice stuff….
On the way home today we stopped off at Barnard Market town near Scotch Corner, it’s a wee picturesque town with a big castle ruins. They views were amazing, you can see them on
http://uk.photos.yahoo.com/janeygodley/
You can see them under Nottingham and Barnard, some nice pics.
I am off to London tomorrow, so I will be in touch soon.
Saturday, January 14, 2006
Old and Tired
The gig was nice last night at Nottingham Jongleurs, but as MC I felt I could have done better, that middle bit where the first act comes off and I am preparing to put the second act on, is notoriously difficult as people are moving around and going to the loo and food is being cleared...its a fucking nightmare and sometimes you feel like a supply teacher standing there trying to get their attention. It’s my fault and I should be able to get their attention...last night I felt I couldn’t get them all together.
So this morning after spending a whole night worrying that maybe I am shite at everything (the other comics assured me that it is always like that and the gig was fine and I am being too hard on myself, but I never blame an audience I always blame the comic/MC for not having enough stage presence to hold them)...anyway after that and suffering that fucked up nasty teeth bleaching shit I have on my choppers that make my teeth sore all day, I woke up to period pains! Yahooooo I love being a woman with dull teeth and a cluster bomb for a womb.
I have realised that my whole body is fucked up...my hair is going white where it should be brown, my teeth are going brown when they should be white, my underarm hair is PITCH black...yet my pubes are going beige????? Why can’t my underarm hair go white??? It’s like my body is out of 'toner'...I am a faulty printer!
Tonight the club is sold out...over 400 people, am looking forward to getting on stage.
So this morning after spending a whole night worrying that maybe I am shite at everything (the other comics assured me that it is always like that and the gig was fine and I am being too hard on myself, but I never blame an audience I always blame the comic/MC for not having enough stage presence to hold them)...anyway after that and suffering that fucked up nasty teeth bleaching shit I have on my choppers that make my teeth sore all day, I woke up to period pains! Yahooooo I love being a woman with dull teeth and a cluster bomb for a womb.
I have realised that my whole body is fucked up...my hair is going white where it should be brown, my teeth are going brown when they should be white, my underarm hair is PITCH black...yet my pubes are going beige????? Why can’t my underarm hair go white??? It’s like my body is out of 'toner'...I am a faulty printer!
Tonight the club is sold out...over 400 people, am looking forward to getting on stage.
Thursday, January 12, 2006
Nottingham Here I come
Finally made it to NOTTINGHAM...just when I get here I get a call to say that the Jongleurs gig has been cancelled. So here I am here sitting in one of those fast 'games' internet shops, you know the kind where lots of young geeky people sit here and try to kill people that they cant kill in real life...on linked up web games all over the world, they are sitting here all around me shouting and yelling as the fire at strange creatures.
Maybe masturbation is too much of an effort nowadays! Maybe they can simulate 'simulated sex?’...
Meanwhile I have now got Friday and Saturdays gig to go.
As you know my laptop is screwed so I cannot go on the web till tomorrow, hopefully I will be more exciting and ready to blog then!
Janey
Maybe masturbation is too much of an effort nowadays! Maybe they can simulate 'simulated sex?’...
Meanwhile I have now got Friday and Saturdays gig to go.
As you know my laptop is screwed so I cannot go on the web till tomorrow, hopefully I will be more exciting and ready to blog then!
Janey
Football in the Supe
Football in the Supermarket….
Went out to East Lothian last night for a corporate gig, I got all dressed up nice, high heeled boots, smart trousers with shiny hair and make up. Husband and I were going for dinner before the gig. It was set in a lovely hotel near Edinburgh.
We arrived and the crowd were a smallish bunch of middle class interesting people who worked for a company that makes small ‘urology’ type devices for surgeons who repair people’s toilet parts!
It was nice room but the setting was quite intimidating as the room was set for dinner and not really conducive to performing.
I walked into the room, the people at the tables all turned to look at me, they were watching intently. I stood at the front of the people, put one finger in my ear and said clearly “You all thought this was a conference, well…please don’t stare into the cameras” I pointed into the corners of the room and continued “My name is Janey, this is not a comedy gig, we are here from Channel Four, just want to let you know you have all been sacked”
The room fell even more silent, their shocked faces stared at me, I put my finger into my ear and ran to the first person and said “reaction?”
Then I laughed and told them it was a comedy gig and that was my opening line….how they laughed!
They really were a nice bunch of urology folks and the gig went on fine.
I wrapped up the gig and we drove home, then I realised we needed supplies for the journey today to Nottingham, so we stopped off at the giant Tesco store.
It was now after midnight and I love shopping at this time, except the staff have a different ghetto blaster that pumps out music at every fucking different aisle as the stack all the shelves, its like shopping in a loud confused disco, just for the record the Organic section is gay or at least the music is!
Husband and I were in electronics and as I teetered about in my high heel boots and fussed with freshly applied lip gloss, I felt something hit my feet, I looked down and there was a ball. I expected to look along the aisle and find a child who had booted the ball to me in between the plasma screens and toasters.
But it was a young man in his twenties, his friend who was standing behind me looked at me and smiled sheepishly and spoke to his footballing friend “Tom stop that”
Husband smiled and everyone carried on staring at goods, I then flicked my sharp booted toe under the ball towards the guy and shouted “for the head”
He immediately jumped up and headed the ball straight back at me.
He smiled and had a mischievous look on his face that challenged me to go on, so I did.
I swung my handbag over my back and had the ball at my feet, running in high heels was not easy but goals were to be scored, Tom smiled but took a defensive stance just at the end of the television aisle, husband stood in shock, the other guy gasped as Tom and I went head to head in sliding tackle, we collided, there were no injuries and no subs came on the ‘field’. We got back up.
I ran towards him, he thought I was going to deflect the ball off the plasma tellies, but I just let him think that was my tactic, I slipped the ball from feet to feet and as I got closer he spread his legs to defend the goal, I passed it easily through his open legs, leapt over his right feet and screamed with glee as the ball hit the goals…well I say ‘goa’l it belted into the organic veg section which technically was the goal. Tom cheered and slid to the floor shouting “The lady has scored”
I ran up the aisle laughing towards him and we both cheered, husband stood with Toms friend, both of them looked like we were toddlers and they were the patient fathers waiting on the wee ones getting back to good behaviour befitting a supermarket visit.
Tom smiled, winked and said “Good game Godley”
He knew my name!
Husband spoke loudly “Food to buy come on” and laughed as my footballing friend and I said goodbye.
“He knew my name” I said to husband.
“You are a famous footballer, of course he knows your name” husband replied with a serious face “You will be playing for Celtic soon”.
I may be old, but not too old for game of supermarket football.
Went out to East Lothian last night for a corporate gig, I got all dressed up nice, high heeled boots, smart trousers with shiny hair and make up. Husband and I were going for dinner before the gig. It was set in a lovely hotel near Edinburgh.
We arrived and the crowd were a smallish bunch of middle class interesting people who worked for a company that makes small ‘urology’ type devices for surgeons who repair people’s toilet parts!
It was nice room but the setting was quite intimidating as the room was set for dinner and not really conducive to performing.
I walked into the room, the people at the tables all turned to look at me, they were watching intently. I stood at the front of the people, put one finger in my ear and said clearly “You all thought this was a conference, well…please don’t stare into the cameras” I pointed into the corners of the room and continued “My name is Janey, this is not a comedy gig, we are here from Channel Four, just want to let you know you have all been sacked”
The room fell even more silent, their shocked faces stared at me, I put my finger into my ear and ran to the first person and said “reaction?”
Then I laughed and told them it was a comedy gig and that was my opening line….how they laughed!
They really were a nice bunch of urology folks and the gig went on fine.
I wrapped up the gig and we drove home, then I realised we needed supplies for the journey today to Nottingham, so we stopped off at the giant Tesco store.
It was now after midnight and I love shopping at this time, except the staff have a different ghetto blaster that pumps out music at every fucking different aisle as the stack all the shelves, its like shopping in a loud confused disco, just for the record the Organic section is gay or at least the music is!
Husband and I were in electronics and as I teetered about in my high heel boots and fussed with freshly applied lip gloss, I felt something hit my feet, I looked down and there was a ball. I expected to look along the aisle and find a child who had booted the ball to me in between the plasma screens and toasters.
But it was a young man in his twenties, his friend who was standing behind me looked at me and smiled sheepishly and spoke to his footballing friend “Tom stop that”
Husband smiled and everyone carried on staring at goods, I then flicked my sharp booted toe under the ball towards the guy and shouted “for the head”
He immediately jumped up and headed the ball straight back at me.
He smiled and had a mischievous look on his face that challenged me to go on, so I did.
I swung my handbag over my back and had the ball at my feet, running in high heels was not easy but goals were to be scored, Tom smiled but took a defensive stance just at the end of the television aisle, husband stood in shock, the other guy gasped as Tom and I went head to head in sliding tackle, we collided, there were no injuries and no subs came on the ‘field’. We got back up.
I ran towards him, he thought I was going to deflect the ball off the plasma tellies, but I just let him think that was my tactic, I slipped the ball from feet to feet and as I got closer he spread his legs to defend the goal, I passed it easily through his open legs, leapt over his right feet and screamed with glee as the ball hit the goals…well I say ‘goa’l it belted into the organic veg section which technically was the goal. Tom cheered and slid to the floor shouting “The lady has scored”
I ran up the aisle laughing towards him and we both cheered, husband stood with Toms friend, both of them looked like we were toddlers and they were the patient fathers waiting on the wee ones getting back to good behaviour befitting a supermarket visit.
Tom smiled, winked and said “Good game Godley”
He knew my name!
Husband spoke loudly “Food to buy come on” and laughed as my footballing friend and I said goodbye.
“He knew my name” I said to husband.
“You are a famous footballer, of course he knows your name” husband replied with a serious face “You will be playing for Celtic soon”.
I may be old, but not too old for game of supermarket football.
Tuesday, January 10, 2006
Breasts and Teeth
Breasts and Teeth…
Yesterday I went to the breast clinic for my check up. The male doc and female doc came into the room as I stripped. She was very bland looking, dressed in beige and woollens, like something from the 1970’s, her un remarkable brown hair was thick and plain looking pulled in a pony tail, he was tall, with short brown hair wearing clothes and style that could not define a generation. I though for a moment I had stepped into the past via some strange NHS time-port-hole.
“My God your fucking hands are freezing” I gasped as the bland man felt my left boob “Did you have a special ice box outside the room to keep them at that horrid temperature?” The scary non speaking woman doc stood with her back against the wall and stared at me emotionless.
“Please tell me that lump you can feel won’t send me to the choppy, clampy, stampy tit squashing mammogram machine?” I giggled, hoping he would finally crack a smile or something….but NO, she stood looking at me impassively as I blurted out
“I am sorry, I talk a lot when I get nervous, and this is making me nervous…you know how it is when some strange man is pressing into my lumpy tit”.
I kid you not, they both stood there completely un smiling, completely un interested and finally man doctor said “ This is not going to require any more tests, I think we have realised that this lump is just going to stay here and not be dangerous”
“Well thanks Doc, can you please both do me a big favour?” They never even looked at each other with any form of interest in what I was about to say, so I continued “Please never ever come to a comedy club, can both of you promise me that, I swear to God I will never bring this lump back here….Ok are you both Borgs? You know seven of nine…that Star Trek thing…is she two of six?”
They both left the room and the wee Scottish blonde nurse came back in “You ok Janey?” she smiled “Yes I’m all clear, listen are those two people real…I mean fucksake, I have never seen two glum unaffected people like that in my life, thank fuck I never had cancer and they were the people who had to bring me that news!”
The wee nurse laughed aloud, and whispered conspiratorially “Pair of strange geeks eh? At least you are clear and not getting ready for another round of tests”
She was right, who cares the docs was odd, and I don’t have cancer!
This morning was fun filled happy time as baby Abi stayed over and we have got her to say in her wee two year old lispy words “George Bush is a mental man who lies for oil and started an illegal war”
It is such fun and as she is very smart for her age, we are parrot fashion teaching her the words and extending the sentence and she is now word perfect. She can also count to twenty in English and French! She is so cute and only two years old with that curly mad Gene Wilder hair-do she seems to have inherited from no one in the family! Well other than me, but even my hair isn’t that crazy!
So today I went to the dentist to get my treatment for teeth whitening, and next month I get veneers put over the nasty dull shells, I call teeth. I will put up some pics of my teeth as the whitening process takes place and we shall see the results as they happen, I told my dentist that I would be posting it all on the web, so it better work!
If you want to see the pictures daily go to this link…
http://uk.photos.yahoo.com/janeygodley/
Click onto the thumbnail of my teeth and watch daily as the treatment takes effect, I never posted a picture of my lumpy tit, I didn’t wanna frighten anyone.
Yesterday I went to the breast clinic for my check up. The male doc and female doc came into the room as I stripped. She was very bland looking, dressed in beige and woollens, like something from the 1970’s, her un remarkable brown hair was thick and plain looking pulled in a pony tail, he was tall, with short brown hair wearing clothes and style that could not define a generation. I though for a moment I had stepped into the past via some strange NHS time-port-hole.
“My God your fucking hands are freezing” I gasped as the bland man felt my left boob “Did you have a special ice box outside the room to keep them at that horrid temperature?” The scary non speaking woman doc stood with her back against the wall and stared at me emotionless.
“Please tell me that lump you can feel won’t send me to the choppy, clampy, stampy tit squashing mammogram machine?” I giggled, hoping he would finally crack a smile or something….but NO, she stood looking at me impassively as I blurted out
“I am sorry, I talk a lot when I get nervous, and this is making me nervous…you know how it is when some strange man is pressing into my lumpy tit”.
I kid you not, they both stood there completely un smiling, completely un interested and finally man doctor said “ This is not going to require any more tests, I think we have realised that this lump is just going to stay here and not be dangerous”
“Well thanks Doc, can you please both do me a big favour?” They never even looked at each other with any form of interest in what I was about to say, so I continued “Please never ever come to a comedy club, can both of you promise me that, I swear to God I will never bring this lump back here….Ok are you both Borgs? You know seven of nine…that Star Trek thing…is she two of six?”
They both left the room and the wee Scottish blonde nurse came back in “You ok Janey?” she smiled “Yes I’m all clear, listen are those two people real…I mean fucksake, I have never seen two glum unaffected people like that in my life, thank fuck I never had cancer and they were the people who had to bring me that news!”
The wee nurse laughed aloud, and whispered conspiratorially “Pair of strange geeks eh? At least you are clear and not getting ready for another round of tests”
She was right, who cares the docs was odd, and I don’t have cancer!
This morning was fun filled happy time as baby Abi stayed over and we have got her to say in her wee two year old lispy words “George Bush is a mental man who lies for oil and started an illegal war”
It is such fun and as she is very smart for her age, we are parrot fashion teaching her the words and extending the sentence and she is now word perfect. She can also count to twenty in English and French! She is so cute and only two years old with that curly mad Gene Wilder hair-do she seems to have inherited from no one in the family! Well other than me, but even my hair isn’t that crazy!
So today I went to the dentist to get my treatment for teeth whitening, and next month I get veneers put over the nasty dull shells, I call teeth. I will put up some pics of my teeth as the whitening process takes place and we shall see the results as they happen, I told my dentist that I would be posting it all on the web, so it better work!
If you want to see the pictures daily go to this link…
http://uk.photos.yahoo.com/janeygodley/
Click onto the thumbnail of my teeth and watch daily as the treatment takes effect, I never posted a picture of my lumpy tit, I didn’t wanna frighten anyone.
Monday, January 09, 2006
Chortle Comedy Award
Chortle Comedy Awards
This seems to be silly season for awards; we have the famous web site Chortle now voting for best comic in UK, this is a much easier form to vote on if you are interested, just follow the link and if you want to vote for me you can put my name Janey Godley in favourite circuit comedian. That’s if you FEEL like doing it, I don’t own your brain!
Here is the link to the page
http://www.chortle.co.uk/news/jan06/vote.php
If you want to see me perform live you can go to downloads page on
www.janeygodley.co.uk
Thanks all, if I win we will have a party by plane, train or internet!
This seems to be silly season for awards; we have the famous web site Chortle now voting for best comic in UK, this is a much easier form to vote on if you are interested, just follow the link and if you want to vote for me you can put my name Janey Godley in favourite circuit comedian. That’s if you FEEL like doing it, I don’t own your brain!
Here is the link to the page
http://www.chortle.co.uk/news/jan06/vote.php
If you want to see me perform live you can go to downloads page on
www.janeygodley.co.uk
Thanks all, if I win we will have a party by plane, train or internet!
Sunday, January 08, 2006
Last Nights Show
Last Nights Show….
I had the best gig in a long time last night at Blackfriars, firstly it was the first week of January, and so we expected a smallish crowd. The surprise was -it was heaving! Apparently I got a nice mention in the Guardian Newspaper advertising the gig and that helped swell a crowd, so that’s cool.
Secondly despite a cold night there were loads of really interesting people turning up who had read my autobiography (I know this coz they told me) and that always makes an odd gig at times. People who have read my book, don’t really find out I become a stand up comic until they read my wee biog at the back flap, as all through the book there is no mention of comedy and the book ends in 1994, I didn’t really get into comedy until 1995.
So if they are not comedy fans and are just book fans, I have no perception of how they will react to my gig and they have no perception of how I perform as a comic, so it’s like performing for the first time! This is awesome!
Anyway Scott Agnew is the best comedy host around at the moment and he warmed the crowd up well, the gig went great and I tell one story that always divides the ‘book fans’ from a genuine comedy audience…it goes a bit like this.
I talk about how I had sex with a blow up doll a couple of years ago in Amsterdam, the graphics and physical antics of the set are visually funny and everyone giggles as I describe the setting…but the punchline is that I could not enjoy the act until the joint I was smoking fell off my mouth and landed on the blow up mans face and melted it….then I had an orgasm, so I now touch myself to burn victims. NOW I know that’s nasty, it is meant to be funny and it is funny for some people, the people who like comedy, the folks who turned up to see the woman who wrote the book stopped laughing as I said ‘So now I masturbate to burns victims’. I must admit writing it, it doesn’t sound anywhere near funny, but like all comedy you have to see it live and I will podcast that sketch soon as I love it.
Anyway it split the room, and that’s good coz I want the people who only know me as the woman from the book to see what I actually do on stage.
I also slag off religion, I take the piss out of Nuns, Catholics and Protestants and their King William of Orange (there is a big contingency of Catholics and Protestants in Glasgow…trust me on that) I then laugh at some Jewish influences but nothing terribly insulting to any of the above religions to be honest, but then I ask the audience if they want me to slag off another religion and they get to choose.
A room full of people sat quietly at this request, they looked at each other and started to get uncomfortable. So I took a quick poll of the collective religions in the room and there was a predominance of Catholics, some Protestants and a few atheists and some non committals...
I repeated my request for a named religion to be slagged off and still silence fell over the room and so I said
“Did anyone think Muslim but were scared to say it, if do raise your hand” and lots of people raised their hands, so I did a gentle funny set about being a Muslim woman as I feel if I left them out that would be being racist. People were scared and I don’t know why we are scared to laugh at some religions but we are terrified of laughing at others, we are a nation that is worried to have an opinion. Not me, and the people laughed trust me, even the two Muslims up the back.
Anyway the night went great and at the end I asked the audience how they wanted the show to end and a woman shouted out “Talk about your mum”.
“She’s dead” I giggled and forgot thats not giggly for others, especially those who have read my book, so I told a big funny story about my mammy and it went down well, so as I was closing the show, I mentioned that my mammy would have been 71 years old next week and by some strange act of spontaneity, a woman shouted “Can we sing happy birthday to Annie? Your mammy?”
The crowd roared and they did, everyone of those people sat and sand loudly Happy Birthday to my mammy who died in 1982, it could have been cheesy and forced, but it wasn’t, everyone there wanted to do it and they did. I had a huge lump in my throat and I almost cried and at the end of my set and I said “In the nine years I have been a stand up comic, not one audience has ever sang happy birthday to my dead mammy, you people are great”
What a lovely night and thanks to everyone there who made me feel so very special and glad that I am a comic and writer.
I had the best gig in a long time last night at Blackfriars, firstly it was the first week of January, and so we expected a smallish crowd. The surprise was -it was heaving! Apparently I got a nice mention in the Guardian Newspaper advertising the gig and that helped swell a crowd, so that’s cool.
Secondly despite a cold night there were loads of really interesting people turning up who had read my autobiography (I know this coz they told me) and that always makes an odd gig at times. People who have read my book, don’t really find out I become a stand up comic until they read my wee biog at the back flap, as all through the book there is no mention of comedy and the book ends in 1994, I didn’t really get into comedy until 1995.
So if they are not comedy fans and are just book fans, I have no perception of how they will react to my gig and they have no perception of how I perform as a comic, so it’s like performing for the first time! This is awesome!
Anyway Scott Agnew is the best comedy host around at the moment and he warmed the crowd up well, the gig went great and I tell one story that always divides the ‘book fans’ from a genuine comedy audience…it goes a bit like this.
I talk about how I had sex with a blow up doll a couple of years ago in Amsterdam, the graphics and physical antics of the set are visually funny and everyone giggles as I describe the setting…but the punchline is that I could not enjoy the act until the joint I was smoking fell off my mouth and landed on the blow up mans face and melted it….then I had an orgasm, so I now touch myself to burn victims. NOW I know that’s nasty, it is meant to be funny and it is funny for some people, the people who like comedy, the folks who turned up to see the woman who wrote the book stopped laughing as I said ‘So now I masturbate to burns victims’. I must admit writing it, it doesn’t sound anywhere near funny, but like all comedy you have to see it live and I will podcast that sketch soon as I love it.
Anyway it split the room, and that’s good coz I want the people who only know me as the woman from the book to see what I actually do on stage.
I also slag off religion, I take the piss out of Nuns, Catholics and Protestants and their King William of Orange (there is a big contingency of Catholics and Protestants in Glasgow…trust me on that) I then laugh at some Jewish influences but nothing terribly insulting to any of the above religions to be honest, but then I ask the audience if they want me to slag off another religion and they get to choose.
A room full of people sat quietly at this request, they looked at each other and started to get uncomfortable. So I took a quick poll of the collective religions in the room and there was a predominance of Catholics, some Protestants and a few atheists and some non committals...
I repeated my request for a named religion to be slagged off and still silence fell over the room and so I said
“Did anyone think Muslim but were scared to say it, if do raise your hand” and lots of people raised their hands, so I did a gentle funny set about being a Muslim woman as I feel if I left them out that would be being racist. People were scared and I don’t know why we are scared to laugh at some religions but we are terrified of laughing at others, we are a nation that is worried to have an opinion. Not me, and the people laughed trust me, even the two Muslims up the back.
Anyway the night went great and at the end I asked the audience how they wanted the show to end and a woman shouted out “Talk about your mum”.
“She’s dead” I giggled and forgot thats not giggly for others, especially those who have read my book, so I told a big funny story about my mammy and it went down well, so as I was closing the show, I mentioned that my mammy would have been 71 years old next week and by some strange act of spontaneity, a woman shouted “Can we sing happy birthday to Annie? Your mammy?”
The crowd roared and they did, everyone of those people sat and sand loudly Happy Birthday to my mammy who died in 1982, it could have been cheesy and forced, but it wasn’t, everyone there wanted to do it and they did. I had a huge lump in my throat and I almost cried and at the end of my set and I said “In the nine years I have been a stand up comic, not one audience has ever sang happy birthday to my dead mammy, you people are great”
What a lovely night and thanks to everyone there who made me feel so very special and glad that I am a comic and writer.
Saturday, January 07, 2006
January makes me sad…
I will be 45 on January the 20th.
It is my mother’s birthday this month as well, she was born on the 13th January weirdly the same birthday as my best friend Monica! My mum would have been 71 this year, she died in 1982 at the hands of her violent boyfriend, (sorry to have to repeat that but new people to the blog will be unaware of that situation).
I will raise a glass of good expensive lemonade to her and Monica that day! (I don’t drink much!)
I do miss my mammy so much, and some times it hurts to even recall her smile.
On another note, I have a really sore knee, I sat on a chair and it made a grisly noise and the pain was like a sharp knitting needle going into it…you know you are old when you get a ‘sitting’ accident!
I am just waiting on my eyelids falling off and tits collapsing. Its all down hill from here guys!
Last night was cool I was onstage at a gig at Curlers bar in Glasgow’s West End, and on the way home I walked into a street fight. I was just strolling along listening to my IPOD watching the drunks stumble home to the tune of Madonna.
As I approached the Western bar near Kelvinbridge, I saw a fracas on the pavement.
There was a bloke with his back to me about to lob a brick at a man in the street, I was walking toward him from behind and simply with total ease I reached out with one gloved hand and grabbed his wrist, he dropped the brick and I carried on walking towards his intended victims.
I know that it was a silly thing to get involved in, but I knew by his body language that he was very drunk and his grip was sloppy and he didn’t have a good purchase on the brick anyway and the man he was about to throw a brick at was an old friend of mine who used to be a customer in my bar fifteen years ago, he now runs his own bar near my home….so friends are friends and I may be a West End girl but you can never rub the East End out of my blood!
The fight never broke out, the drunk man ran from the scene and my old mate and I had a laugh at the astonishing coincidence of me walking up to the guy as he was about to throw a brick!
So all in all an eventful night. I am on stage at Blackfriars tonight; I hope no Scots man is hoping to enter the Olympic brick throwing competition.
It is my mother’s birthday this month as well, she was born on the 13th January weirdly the same birthday as my best friend Monica! My mum would have been 71 this year, she died in 1982 at the hands of her violent boyfriend, (sorry to have to repeat that but new people to the blog will be unaware of that situation).
I will raise a glass of good expensive lemonade to her and Monica that day! (I don’t drink much!)
I do miss my mammy so much, and some times it hurts to even recall her smile.
On another note, I have a really sore knee, I sat on a chair and it made a grisly noise and the pain was like a sharp knitting needle going into it…you know you are old when you get a ‘sitting’ accident!
I am just waiting on my eyelids falling off and tits collapsing. Its all down hill from here guys!
Last night was cool I was onstage at a gig at Curlers bar in Glasgow’s West End, and on the way home I walked into a street fight. I was just strolling along listening to my IPOD watching the drunks stumble home to the tune of Madonna.
As I approached the Western bar near Kelvinbridge, I saw a fracas on the pavement.
There was a bloke with his back to me about to lob a brick at a man in the street, I was walking toward him from behind and simply with total ease I reached out with one gloved hand and grabbed his wrist, he dropped the brick and I carried on walking towards his intended victims.
I know that it was a silly thing to get involved in, but I knew by his body language that he was very drunk and his grip was sloppy and he didn’t have a good purchase on the brick anyway and the man he was about to throw a brick at was an old friend of mine who used to be a customer in my bar fifteen years ago, he now runs his own bar near my home….so friends are friends and I may be a West End girl but you can never rub the East End out of my blood!
The fight never broke out, the drunk man ran from the scene and my old mate and I had a laugh at the astonishing coincidence of me walking up to the guy as he was about to throw a brick!
So all in all an eventful night. I am on stage at Blackfriars tonight; I hope no Scots man is hoping to enter the Olympic brick throwing competition.
Thursday, January 05, 2006
Missing Kids
Missing Kids….
Was watching on ER tonight, and the episode was all about a woman whose son was missing, he was aged 12 years old I think. It was horrifying seeing the woman go through the emotions of worrying about her kid. Lately in the news in UK there has been several cases of children around 3 and 4 years old being abducted and sexually abused, which is just terrifying to even try to understand the fear and panic that their parents must suffer.
My daughter went for a day when she was only nine years old.
It was an ordinary day, I was through in Edinburgh, it was June 1995 and I was checking a flat that I was going to be staying in at the forthcoming Fringe Festival. I had mates in Edinburgh and had lunch and hung out with them.
Ashley was on school holidays and her dad was looking after her, we had just recently left our old home and pub and my husbands family, who were …I suppose gangsters, I don’t like that word, but we were found with guns and stuff in his fathers house less than a year before in October 1994.
We had moved up the West End of Glasgow for a fresh start, we left his family behind, they didn’t even know where we were and they separation from them had been pretty acrimonious.
There had been in fighting over his late fathers will and his six brothers were as deceitful and underhand as any Shakespearean story. We had no contact with them and I was embarking on my comedy career.
Ashley was a very independent girl and was allowed to use the underground on her own; she had been using it everyday as she travelled up to her school in the West End. Her school was a lovely fee paying establishment set in beautiful affluent tenements and grand houses with a small high street that she loved browsing.
That day as I had been out with friends sitting in a fancy bistro that was at the foot of the ominous Edinburgh Castle, Ashley was out on her own up the Byres roads near her school, spending her pocket money. Her father had instructed her to stay out for an hour then call to let him know what her movements were.
Two hours passed and she hadn’t called, he began to worry, it wasn’t like her to be forgetful as she was always so mature and diligent about her responsibilities. The added background worry, secreted in his head was that one of his late father’s old gangster enemies may have picked her up…maybe as an old unsettled score.
I called him and he never wavered once on the phone, he never blurted out that Ashley was late and hadn’t called, he knew that me being in Edinburgh would result in me jumping on a bus and that hour drive back to Glasgow would be like a scene from the famous film ‘Speed’, trust me that fucking bus would be held to ransom and it would have been driven at 90 miles per hour as I got home in hysterics.
Finally I sauntered home, my walkman plastered to my ear…dancing up the stairs, desperate to tell my husband all the news about my mates and the flat I would be staying in and the stuff I have been doing….nothing about my daughter even crossed my mind and by this time she was missing five hours.
As soon as I entered the flat, I felt a distinct creepy fear, I ripped the earphones out of my ears and ran into the living room and saw my Step mum and dad standing there looking over at the far side of the room. I followed their eyes…
My husband was lying on the carpet face down, his body completely stretched out and he was making a noise that didn’t make sense, nor had I heard that sound before…was he crying?
My brain went into overdrive, what was going on? Was my brother dead? Well he was a heroin addict who has HIV, was my sister ill?
Why then was my husband upset? He cares for none of his own family, less for mine…then it hit me…ASHLEY, the only reason he would be screaming.
I immediately ran into her bedroom, her wee bed was untouched, her teddy lay on the floor, her coat was missing, and her presence was gone…where was she?
My dad came through to me and explained quickly that Ashley had gone out for a walk up the Byres road, but she had not come back in five hours and she hadn’t called.
I felt as though I had been punched in the heart, my breath left me and I slumped to the floor. My husband came running in and held me, he told me the police were out looking for her, they had a picture of her, they knew what she was wearing and all we could was wait.
My dad, who has a bad heart and various other problems with his health, immediately threw his coat on “I am going up the Byres road, I will take a big photo of her and go look for her”
He grabbed the photo we had on the wall, shoved it under his arm and made off down the stairs.
My step mum told me to sit and wait, but my brain was racing, in my minds eye she was walking up the road near her school, she was laughing at the play ground, she was standing looking in the famous Sentry Box toy shop, deciding what to spend her cash on…she was being dragged into a car, she was being held against her will…my heart beat hard in my chest. Why had this happened?
My husband was pacing the floor.
“It’s not like her not to phone, I always let her go out, I have never over protected her” he was talking to himself.
The police came back up to the house and asked more questions
‘Would anyone want to take her?’
‘Would she go with anyone she didn’t know?’
It went on and on, I threw up in the toilet, I cried in the room, I drank tea and threw it up again. Where was my child?
Then the most amazing thing happened, my dad had been out about fifteen minutes, this was before everyone had mobile phones remember, he called from the call box outside the toy shop and told us he had just met her in the street.
Ashley and my dad came back, she was looking so sheepish, she came running into my hallway and straight into my arms crying “Mummy I didn’t know the time, I am sorry I caused all the worry, I was playing in my friends garden, she lives beside the school and I didn’t know the time, and her mummy told me it was getting late and I should go home, then I met grand dad in the street and he told me the police are looking for me…and look mummy” she lifted up her trouser legs and showed me these red welts and bruised on her shins “I can finally go a bike”
The relief was so overwhelming, my husband picked her up and held her close and wouldn’t put her down, her wee legs dangled as he buried his head in her long thick hair.
The police arrived and Ashley was interviewed, it was ascertained that her explanation was true, she had simply met friends in the sunshine and went to their garden with their parents, had a barbeque, played for hours and then slowly realised that she hadn’t called home and was late.
I am sure we have all had days where you have such fun and forget the world, and that’s what kids should have in their life, but the worry had taken at least ten years off my life. I felt for my husband though, as I had my family there, he couldn’t even call his for support and to be honest he never did have their love or help, it made me realise how alone he was.
Ashley sat down and told us all about her adventure, as we all tried to not let an ulcer form I our guts with fear.
My father was the hero of the hour, as a child I was abused, and he never knew and this haunted him for years, he may have never saved me but he did find his grand daughter and that made his day.
Ashley did scare me that day to death. She did have fun though, and we as a family will never forget the day she learned to go a bike.
Was watching on ER tonight, and the episode was all about a woman whose son was missing, he was aged 12 years old I think. It was horrifying seeing the woman go through the emotions of worrying about her kid. Lately in the news in UK there has been several cases of children around 3 and 4 years old being abducted and sexually abused, which is just terrifying to even try to understand the fear and panic that their parents must suffer.
My daughter went for a day when she was only nine years old.
It was an ordinary day, I was through in Edinburgh, it was June 1995 and I was checking a flat that I was going to be staying in at the forthcoming Fringe Festival. I had mates in Edinburgh and had lunch and hung out with them.
Ashley was on school holidays and her dad was looking after her, we had just recently left our old home and pub and my husbands family, who were …I suppose gangsters, I don’t like that word, but we were found with guns and stuff in his fathers house less than a year before in October 1994.
We had moved up the West End of Glasgow for a fresh start, we left his family behind, they didn’t even know where we were and they separation from them had been pretty acrimonious.
There had been in fighting over his late fathers will and his six brothers were as deceitful and underhand as any Shakespearean story. We had no contact with them and I was embarking on my comedy career.
Ashley was a very independent girl and was allowed to use the underground on her own; she had been using it everyday as she travelled up to her school in the West End. Her school was a lovely fee paying establishment set in beautiful affluent tenements and grand houses with a small high street that she loved browsing.
That day as I had been out with friends sitting in a fancy bistro that was at the foot of the ominous Edinburgh Castle, Ashley was out on her own up the Byres roads near her school, spending her pocket money. Her father had instructed her to stay out for an hour then call to let him know what her movements were.
Two hours passed and she hadn’t called, he began to worry, it wasn’t like her to be forgetful as she was always so mature and diligent about her responsibilities. The added background worry, secreted in his head was that one of his late father’s old gangster enemies may have picked her up…maybe as an old unsettled score.
I called him and he never wavered once on the phone, he never blurted out that Ashley was late and hadn’t called, he knew that me being in Edinburgh would result in me jumping on a bus and that hour drive back to Glasgow would be like a scene from the famous film ‘Speed’, trust me that fucking bus would be held to ransom and it would have been driven at 90 miles per hour as I got home in hysterics.
Finally I sauntered home, my walkman plastered to my ear…dancing up the stairs, desperate to tell my husband all the news about my mates and the flat I would be staying in and the stuff I have been doing….nothing about my daughter even crossed my mind and by this time she was missing five hours.
As soon as I entered the flat, I felt a distinct creepy fear, I ripped the earphones out of my ears and ran into the living room and saw my Step mum and dad standing there looking over at the far side of the room. I followed their eyes…
My husband was lying on the carpet face down, his body completely stretched out and he was making a noise that didn’t make sense, nor had I heard that sound before…was he crying?
My brain went into overdrive, what was going on? Was my brother dead? Well he was a heroin addict who has HIV, was my sister ill?
Why then was my husband upset? He cares for none of his own family, less for mine…then it hit me…ASHLEY, the only reason he would be screaming.
I immediately ran into her bedroom, her wee bed was untouched, her teddy lay on the floor, her coat was missing, and her presence was gone…where was she?
My dad came through to me and explained quickly that Ashley had gone out for a walk up the Byres road, but she had not come back in five hours and she hadn’t called.
I felt as though I had been punched in the heart, my breath left me and I slumped to the floor. My husband came running in and held me, he told me the police were out looking for her, they had a picture of her, they knew what she was wearing and all we could was wait.
My dad, who has a bad heart and various other problems with his health, immediately threw his coat on “I am going up the Byres road, I will take a big photo of her and go look for her”
He grabbed the photo we had on the wall, shoved it under his arm and made off down the stairs.
My step mum told me to sit and wait, but my brain was racing, in my minds eye she was walking up the road near her school, she was laughing at the play ground, she was standing looking in the famous Sentry Box toy shop, deciding what to spend her cash on…she was being dragged into a car, she was being held against her will…my heart beat hard in my chest. Why had this happened?
My husband was pacing the floor.
“It’s not like her not to phone, I always let her go out, I have never over protected her” he was talking to himself.
The police came back up to the house and asked more questions
‘Would anyone want to take her?’
‘Would she go with anyone she didn’t know?’
It went on and on, I threw up in the toilet, I cried in the room, I drank tea and threw it up again. Where was my child?
Then the most amazing thing happened, my dad had been out about fifteen minutes, this was before everyone had mobile phones remember, he called from the call box outside the toy shop and told us he had just met her in the street.
Ashley and my dad came back, she was looking so sheepish, she came running into my hallway and straight into my arms crying “Mummy I didn’t know the time, I am sorry I caused all the worry, I was playing in my friends garden, she lives beside the school and I didn’t know the time, and her mummy told me it was getting late and I should go home, then I met grand dad in the street and he told me the police are looking for me…and look mummy” she lifted up her trouser legs and showed me these red welts and bruised on her shins “I can finally go a bike”
The relief was so overwhelming, my husband picked her up and held her close and wouldn’t put her down, her wee legs dangled as he buried his head in her long thick hair.
The police arrived and Ashley was interviewed, it was ascertained that her explanation was true, she had simply met friends in the sunshine and went to their garden with their parents, had a barbeque, played for hours and then slowly realised that she hadn’t called home and was late.
I am sure we have all had days where you have such fun and forget the world, and that’s what kids should have in their life, but the worry had taken at least ten years off my life. I felt for my husband though, as I had my family there, he couldn’t even call his for support and to be honest he never did have their love or help, it made me realise how alone he was.
Ashley sat down and told us all about her adventure, as we all tried to not let an ulcer form I our guts with fear.
My father was the hero of the hour, as a child I was abused, and he never knew and this haunted him for years, he may have never saved me but he did find his grand daughter and that made his day.
Ashley did scare me that day to death. She did have fun though, and we as a family will never forget the day she learned to go a bike.
Wednesday, January 04, 2006
Comedy awards are on
Comedy awards are on the agenda tonight.
London’s Time Out magazine has launched its search for award winners, there isn’t even a Scot on the line up but if you want you can vote for me, that’s only if you want to, I believe people are unaware of the competition so I am drawing your humble attention to it.
You click on the link and click on who you think should win OR you can put Janey Godley in ‘other’.
If Bush can get voted in twice surely I can get at least ONE vote?
Thanks Love Janey Godley.
http://www.timeout.com/competition/liveawardscomedy
London’s Time Out magazine has launched its search for award winners, there isn’t even a Scot on the line up but if you want you can vote for me, that’s only if you want to, I believe people are unaware of the competition so I am drawing your humble attention to it.
You click on the link and click on who you think should win OR you can put Janey Godley in ‘other’.
If Bush can get voted in twice surely I can get at least ONE vote?
Thanks Love Janey Godley.
http://www.timeout.com/competition/liveawardscomedy
Life Goes on
Went into town today to pay some bills, I hate paying bills; I want that money to buy things! The good news is I have downloaded some great live Steely Dan music onto my IPOD and that carried me through the boring bank queue!
Husband is doing my yearly accounts and I hate that more than period pains, it is made more difficult because my PC crashed in September and all my invoices and each gig that had been inserted with how much I have been paid was wiped clear! So I had to go through the whole diary and I used the blog to jolt my memory as to where I was and how much I got paid. It was hard trying to recall each payment, its ok with the bigger clubs as those payments are standard payments, but smaller gigs and corporate gigs proved a real chore!
Good news though, Time Out the famous London ‘what’s on’ magazine called me and asked me to write my own article which will advertise the gigs I am doing when I am back down in January, this is a real honour for me, Time Out is a well respected magazine. I have written four drafts of the article and am paranoid that’s its just shit.
The town was busy today and I hit the sales, got some neat stuff from Boots as they always have a great sale for small toiletries and bits and bobs that I pay full cash for normally. I suppose what I should do is buy ALL this years Christmas gifts now and that would save me enormous amounts of time this December, but me being me didn’t bother.
I am currently researching Sony Vaio laptops to buy and have seen some cheap ones on the web, as my own laptop is crap and over heats and blanks out and weighs more than a small fat sheep when trying to carry it around the UK. Its like being pregnant again lugging it around over my shoulders and trying to support its weight through airports and train stations.
Sony Vaio weighs only 2kgs and my old one weighs 9kg’s!
So it’s a new year and I must get off my fat ass and lose weight again, no more chocolate for breakfast.
PS there is new funny pics on this link, click on A Political and check them out#
http://uk.photos.yahoo.com/janeygodley/
Husband is doing my yearly accounts and I hate that more than period pains, it is made more difficult because my PC crashed in September and all my invoices and each gig that had been inserted with how much I have been paid was wiped clear! So I had to go through the whole diary and I used the blog to jolt my memory as to where I was and how much I got paid. It was hard trying to recall each payment, its ok with the bigger clubs as those payments are standard payments, but smaller gigs and corporate gigs proved a real chore!
Good news though, Time Out the famous London ‘what’s on’ magazine called me and asked me to write my own article which will advertise the gigs I am doing when I am back down in January, this is a real honour for me, Time Out is a well respected magazine. I have written four drafts of the article and am paranoid that’s its just shit.
The town was busy today and I hit the sales, got some neat stuff from Boots as they always have a great sale for small toiletries and bits and bobs that I pay full cash for normally. I suppose what I should do is buy ALL this years Christmas gifts now and that would save me enormous amounts of time this December, but me being me didn’t bother.
I am currently researching Sony Vaio laptops to buy and have seen some cheap ones on the web, as my own laptop is crap and over heats and blanks out and weighs more than a small fat sheep when trying to carry it around the UK. Its like being pregnant again lugging it around over my shoulders and trying to support its weight through airports and train stations.
Sony Vaio weighs only 2kgs and my old one weighs 9kg’s!
So it’s a new year and I must get off my fat ass and lose weight again, no more chocolate for breakfast.
PS there is new funny pics on this link, click on A Political and check them out#
http://uk.photos.yahoo.com/janeygodley/
Monday, January 02, 2006
2006No regrets Well
2006...No regrets! Well kinda!
Can’t believe it really is 2K6, can you. I am 45 on 20th January and feel like my life should be over by now eh? When I was 22 I imagined that when I was 45 I would be menopausal (Please let me womb stop bleeding…bring it on) but I aint! I imagined I would be wrinkly and wearing brightly appliquéd jumpers with busy butterflies and shiny sequins on them (like all the 45 year old women I knew when I was 22 years old) but I am not.
Well there are some wrinkles but certainly not as much as my mum had when she was 45, I remember her face clearly. She died an old woman at 47, I am sure some of you know my mum was murdered by her violent boyfriend in 1982, she was found in the River Clyde four days after he took her a late night ‘walk’.
I don’t mean she was an old woman, but she looked like an old woman and behaved like an old woman and that’s what most women her age looked like in those days.
My mum adored Judy Garland, she danced like her and almost lived like in the addiction department as well and strangely both of them died aged 47.
Getting back to the point, I think my mum’s generation didn’t foresee a working life after 40, certainly nothing more than working as a dinner lady or cleaner anyway.
They weren’t brought up in the 1940’s and 50’ to assume they could raise their kids then apply technological moisturisers and start shagging 20 years olds…like we are constantly fed by US sitcoms! (trust me you don’t need to be wrinkle free to let a 20 year old fuck you, you just have to have a good enough memory to remember to forget them afterwards… so I am told).
They never knew women who had ‘plastic surgery’ unless it was of course some poor woman whose husband tried to burn her in a fire and they grafted a new pinkie on her hand but left her face like a melted carpet….they just never foresaw regular people to have boob jobs or stretch marks being erased by lasers so the 45 year old could hit the beach in a tiny bikini!
I am of the generation of women who will work forever and try to look after themselves, manage their own lives and love and work to their own rules.
My own marriage has went through several regenerations…I was the original 80’s bride who wore shoulder pads, big hair, make up, high heels and sexy stockings and was into aerobics, to keep me trim, I survived on 300 calories a day (if it was good enough for Princess Diana, it was good enough for me), I ran a business, had a baby and was always ready to look good and provide hot foods and sex on demand …then I was the 90’s woman, turning my back on the job my husband had allocated for me (running the bar he owned) and became a stand up comic and started to travel alone for the first time in my married life…I even carried my own passport and cash! I had opinions that I shouted loudly from a stage and ran my own business managing myself.
I dressed to suit me, I let my hair grow longer, I got into my own music, I rebelled against everything I held dear as an 80’s woman and practically left home leaving him holding the baby (by then a school girl) and I demanded sex when I got home from a trip and revelled at reading my own name Janey Godley (not my married name…that’s Storrie, but I changed it legally to Godley) in the comedy magazines and listings.
Now I am 2K woman and we are still together, I work he cooks, I earn, he accounts it, I spend, he smiles and hides a grimace, I laugh, he laughs and we rub along fine.
I do have enormous amounts of regrets and stuff I have done and I wish I hadn’t.
I wish I had learned to shut up and listen more, I regret talking over people, I regret undermining other peoples emotions and above all I regret the red dress and pill box hat I wore at a wedding in 1989. I looked mental, I don’t regret the stretch marks ( have you seen my beautiful child? Because she worth it!), I don’t regret the scars on my knee (football as a youngster -I was GOOD!).
I don’t regret standing up to people who undermined others, I don’t regret telling a dirty joke loudly in the Vatican City last July beneath the Popes window over a mobile phone to a fervent Catholic! (I should have had more respect…really),
I regret missing some performances at my daughter school theatre, but I was on stage working to pay a mortgage and that’s life…still I do regret that.
I am eternally sorry for all the people who were my Uncle David Percy’s best friends and were really hurt and shocked when I got him imprisoned in 1996 for sexually abusing me as a child, that was rotten for them and not their fault…still that’s what happens when you touch kids and hope they grow up have a good enough memory to remember to forget them afterwards!
Happy 2K6 all…je ne regretene!
Sunday, January 01, 2006
New Year telly
New Year telly!
I had a great gig at Glasgow Jongleurs, the crowd was just awesome and it can be scary doing stand up comedy at Hogmanay….as the Glasgow crowd can be mental, but there was just wonderful.
I was tired as I have been up for nights watching all my BAFTA dvd’s, being a BAFTA member is a very serious business, I do get all the latest films from Harry Potter to King Kong to Narnia, including all the smaller films and indie movies and I watch THEM ALL as the first round of voting in January 4th.
I have been busy taking notes and being critical about the whole screen play business!
So tonight I went on stage as host and had great fun.
I left as soon as the show was over as I wanted to be home to bring in the New Year, and to top it all I was on TV as part of the Hogmanay show on STV!
It was odd sitting there watching myself chatting about Scottish events from 2005, but I am chuffed to bits they showed so much of me!
It was recorded three weeks ago, remember the blog? Where I was convinced I had a moustache? I have to say I did have a wee bit of a creepy spider on my top lip and my husband said in the middle of me talking “That’s a shame you have your moustache” and I was horrified, but he was joking he told me later.
The thing that bothered me was my yellow teeth hence the reason I am getting my whole set of yellow choppers whitened and veneered, it may cost a lot but at least I can smile without worry. I know they are not really yellow but they are dull and it’s a history of eating sweets and bad diet, I am from Glasgow for fucksake like my mother in the 1960’s could afford toothpaste? NO!
We never got toothpaste or sunscreen or any of that preventative care, we were lucky if we shared a stock cube for dinner!
So I am old enough and ready to pay good money for a bright smile and that’s what I am sharing today, this first day of 2006 to all my blog mates…a big dull but soon to be bright smile Happy 2006, may your family be safe, may your days be good, may your wages buy dental care, may your kids grow up free and may all your hopes be fulfilled.
I had a great gig at Glasgow Jongleurs, the crowd was just awesome and it can be scary doing stand up comedy at Hogmanay….as the Glasgow crowd can be mental, but there was just wonderful.
I was tired as I have been up for nights watching all my BAFTA dvd’s, being a BAFTA member is a very serious business, I do get all the latest films from Harry Potter to King Kong to Narnia, including all the smaller films and indie movies and I watch THEM ALL as the first round of voting in January 4th.
I have been busy taking notes and being critical about the whole screen play business!
So tonight I went on stage as host and had great fun.
I left as soon as the show was over as I wanted to be home to bring in the New Year, and to top it all I was on TV as part of the Hogmanay show on STV!
It was odd sitting there watching myself chatting about Scottish events from 2005, but I am chuffed to bits they showed so much of me!
It was recorded three weeks ago, remember the blog? Where I was convinced I had a moustache? I have to say I did have a wee bit of a creepy spider on my top lip and my husband said in the middle of me talking “That’s a shame you have your moustache” and I was horrified, but he was joking he told me later.
The thing that bothered me was my yellow teeth hence the reason I am getting my whole set of yellow choppers whitened and veneered, it may cost a lot but at least I can smile without worry. I know they are not really yellow but they are dull and it’s a history of eating sweets and bad diet, I am from Glasgow for fucksake like my mother in the 1960’s could afford toothpaste? NO!
We never got toothpaste or sunscreen or any of that preventative care, we were lucky if we shared a stock cube for dinner!
So I am old enough and ready to pay good money for a bright smile and that’s what I am sharing today, this first day of 2006 to all my blog mates…a big dull but soon to be bright smile Happy 2006, may your family be safe, may your days be good, may your wages buy dental care, may your kids grow up free and may all your hopes be fulfilled.
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