Auckland is fun….

Well the flight into Auckland was not as troublesome and fairly easier, bearing in mind Auckland has an International Runway unlike Wellington!
Ashley and I are back in the Hotel in Auckland, where we started the tour and it’s great. Feels like home-except home is Scotland!
I had a great gig at the all woman Diva show here in Auckland last night and my one woman comedy show ‘Good Godley’ at the International Comedy Festival opens tonight at Silo Theatre.
I am doing a book signing today with my autobiography ‘Handstands in the Dark’ at Whitcoulls on the Corner today at 12-30. I am excited, I went in yesterday and there was a huge shelf full of my face all over it!
Last night at the Diva’s was well funny, the local awesome comic Jan went on camera (my daughter s making a documentary of the tour) and told the whole story how she is a host on the porn channel here in NZ and she actually had sex with the famous porn star Ron Jeremy when he came to NZ recently! The intimate details were so funny and apparently she is number 5, 683 that he has fucked!
She then stripped for the camera and showed us her boobies! So funny!
I haven’t had sex with anyone famous (other than in my head) but I did have a chat with George Clooney in a toilet and he kissed me on the cheek, I also got to feel Jake Gylenhall’s bum at the BAFTA awards so my stories were dull by comparison.
The weather here is nice, I caught the ferry over to Devonport yesterday for lunch and that place is beautiful and magical. The wee town looks like something out of the weather-clap-board houses from some American family sitcom, somehow familiar yet olde-worlde!
The late night parties have finally caught up with my daughter Ashley, she is exhausted and went to bed early last night, I went to a local Japanese restaurant and the first course was cold hard cabbage leaves with sludgy mayonnaise! Yuk.
I was tempted by the sushi, but after last years fiasco at the Edinburgh Fringe where I ate sushi and had a violent reaction and ended up in the Emergency room getting adrenaline pumped into my blistering body-I passed on the sushi. The last thing I need here in NZ is a visit to the hospital and injections to stop my tongue from swelling up, it aint funny.
I am really looking forward to getting onstage tonight and doing my stuff.
Talk soon.

Leaving Wellington….

Well that was fun, I loved Wellington. We were there for two whole weeks; sorry the blog was late but having a migraine was a bastard to deal with. My season at Downstage was amazing, I got really good ticket sales –great reviews and made good friends with Tibald the theatre cat, I am happy.
Wellington was a bit like an episode of ‘Lost’ with all the local comics taking the central roles from the show.
Local comics made us so welcome-David the Jew was the wee English drug addict character, who provided me with serious painkilling drugs, he was all hyper and funny, his comedy style is so far out there at times I am sure the Late Great Malcolm Hardee (Godfather of alternative comedy in UK) would enjoy David’s madness; Noor was Syeed, all broody and sexy Arab-like and very funny onstage, Cori was the Sawyer character-the guy you cannot truly trust though he did keep us all together, he was hysterical with his wry songs and dry humour ( and a keen constant observant eye on Ashley but maybe not in a fatherly helpful way therefore he must die-shame we liked him as well…JOKING…hehhehehe) and Steve was the trustworthy doctor Jack, providing us with a good sense of security and making the stage a great place to come onto, he is a wonderfully funny comic. T.J is a very funny stand up, unfortunately he is too skinny to be Hurley (the fat bloke from Lost) but none the less a great person to share a stage with.
The people who run Downstage Theatre are invisible and were never seen by me or my daughter, I know they exist but I don’t know who they are, a bit like the people who control the Island in Lost!
Of course ‘Blanket-man’ is that dude down the hole!
So there we have it, so we are here in Wellington airport, praying that the flight out is not anywhere as scary as the flight coming in. Wellington airport has a runway the size of a garden path in Hobbiton. You literally land with a bump and your ovaries smack the insides of your inner ear, please please let the take off be easier.
So Auckland here we come….Goodbye Wellington, great memories and Tibald the Cat will forever stay in my heart. It was strange I never met the theatre organisers but Tibald was there every night that my show was on, he sat in the foyer and walked me through to the dressing room, sat beside me until it was time to take the stage….so maybe Tibald actually runs Downstage theatre. He is the main guy behind the scenes and you know what? He is good at it!
Do go check all my latest videos and audio blogs on Livedigital.

Headaches and Terror…

I have now had a headache for 27 hours, I was panicking last night as the show was booked out good and my head is pounding like a big nail has been hammered into the side of my head. I managed to go on stage and have a really cool gig, but I am scared inside as even when I sleep this fucking pain pulsates. If I move my head too quick my vision gets blurred! I am gonna die!
I woke up to the small angry dwarves in my head banging nails and smiled through the pain as I got a great review in The Dominion Post (Wellington’s big broadsheet) I will summarise it for you.
“There are times of silence that only a pin drop could punctuate. This is what makes Godley compelling, she is naturally funny”
So I am happy, I just want this pain to disappear soon as I have another busy night and it’s hard when the stage lights blind me and make the pain sear further into my brain.
I hope I don’t have a brain tumour, I know that sounds paranoid, but I am scared.
Speak soon. Send me painkilling vibes?

Good Godley! Finally opens in Wellington…

Yes, it did and I am so chuffed it went great, I had a really full house and loads of people laughed in all the right places. I was so nervous at first, but I did it and Ashley taped it for me. A guy actually asked me to do a ‘tumble’ on stage and I did! I forgot I had a hairclip in and that jagged me head.
Also, I got a note at the theatre, a guy called Robert contacted me to say he saw me on telly in NZ and he knew me when I had the pub 12 years ago. I knew him well, I was so surprised to find out he had moved to Wellington, Robert was a 22 year old dude who drank in my bar, he remembered Ashley when she was eight years old….was he in for a surprise!
Anyway Robert came to meet us and took us to meet his lovely wife and two wee cute kids, Jimmy and Mary (Good Scottish names!). It was so nice to see a face from my past…..still cannot believe he is all grown up and lives in NZ! He used to live in the Calton.
We went up to Victoria Point and you could see all over Wellington from this beautiful vantage point. It was breathtakingly beautiful.
I met ‘Blanket-man’ on my way to the theatre tonight as I went to do my show. Blanket-man is a big Rasta haired dark skinned man who is naked but for a pair of very un-sexy pants, he sits on the streets of Wellington drinking and shouting at passers by. I shared my pre show sandwich with him and chatted for a wee bit. People looked at me oddly as I sat with him; he is a cool crazy man whom I like. Sometimes to know a place fully you have to meet the people other avoid.
I now have another insect bite, this one is under my chin and getting redder by the fucking minute….Beasties hate me…
I am tired and off to bed, my latest video blog is going to Livedigital tomorrow, or as soon as I can load it up as NZ is a third world country as far as the web is concerned. It takes ages to do stuff as the service fluctuates. (read fluctuates as fucked).

Burnt heads and bitten feet….

I woke up this morning and I have two big insect bites on my ankles, yes! Some nasty wee fucking bitey things had a feast on my ankle, I have two huge lumps that have the tiny wee pin head red entry zone clearly marked….yuk some horrible thing was sucking on me! My husband has this strange philosophy that if you talk to insects they won’t hurt you; now two things are flawed with this arrangement.
1) I can’t see them spraying their evil anaesthetic on me as they prepare to eat, so how can we chat?
2) I am not the fucking bee whisperer

So there we have it. To top it all off, I managed to burn my forehead with hair straighteners, I wanted a nice hair do and ended up with a strange Maori branding that I never expected.
Last night after the Diva’s show (it went great) Ashley and I were rehearsing some of the comedy sketches we will be doing at Edinburgh’s Fringe Festival. Ashley excitedly told me she had developed a new skit, so we went ahead and improvised ….the premise was that she was this annoying insincere Aussie therapist and every time I talked she nodded and said “yeah” over everything I said. Then it developed into her slapping my anger out of me, now it was funny but she got carried away and practically beat me up and I am sure she just did it to violently pound me about the head with her huge palms! She is getting bored of my company I think.
On another note, there is a huge ginger cat at Downstage Theatre called Tibald, Ashley is smitten by this funny cat except last night as she stoked its big fat ginger belly, the cat nudged her hand down and tried to get her to stroke its cat cock! I kid you not; it lay there with its legs open and was trying to sexually assault my child! Ashley was screaming, the cat merely stood up winked at her and strolled saucily into the catflap with a sexy swagger. Ashley said she felt dirty “Mum I played all night with that cat and it made me feel like a one night stand whore, it actually was headbutting my hand to get it down to its wee cat man willie, then when I refused it just strutted away…yuk that is Colin Farrell the cat”
Don’t worry we have it on video, not the cat sexually enticing my daughter, just the cat itself.
So tonight I nursed my insect bites and vowed to learn mosquito talk in the hope I can charm the bastards away from my flesh. I hate beasties.
Tomorrow ‘Good Godley’ finally opens in Wellington.
I was in the society type gossip column yesterday, photographed beside NZ’s famous comic and actor Mike King. Mike is good old mate from when I came to NZ before, I love his stuff and we had a natter at the Gala after party. So I am off to apply more antiseptic to my burnt head, I cannot believe I am going onstage tomorrow with a scorched and faintly well slapped head…thanks to my daughter.

Feeling Better!

I do feel a whole lot better, those period pains nearly killed me, but I managed to get showered and got out of the hotel. Ashley and I went down to the harbour in Wellington, the sun shone though it was still crisp outside. We saw a great Maori busker and he let me join in singing and dancing and we filmed that. Then a local drunk toothless man came along, smelling of piss and booze, so I told Ashley that was her ‘real daddy’ and she screamed at me.
I love meeting the wee underground people, I always like to meet the local nutters, and well I already met the local pervert so I may as well meet the drunks and scary nutters.
I did a show at Late Laughs and the Diva’s and both went really well. I love being onstage, you know it’s the only time I feel really alive is when I get my feet on that wooden board and feel the microphone in my hand.
‘Only the stage can set you free’ is the tattoo I am going to write on my fat ass with an ink marker as I am too scared to get a real tattoo.
Ashley is missing her dad and I do sometimes as well, I do get by ok without him, but sometimes in the quiet wee small hours, I feel that empty-ness creep over me and forget all the shit that went on between us and just wish he was there. How mental is that?
Having Ashley with me has been a Godsend to be honest, I recall being in NZ before and spending weeks alone sometimes not talking to anyone until I got onstage and then talking to no one again until the next day. That’s my fault though as I don’t always communicate well offstage with people, I either talk too much or not at all.
I have to get up early tomorrow as I have a few radio interviews to do and then get ready for Good Godley opening in Wellington on Tuesday. I am excited and about doing my whole one hour show. I will be recording them and filming most of them so I can put some clips up on Livedigital website that hosts my video and audio media.
Speak soon and thanks for all the great supportive comments you have all been sending, I cant answer them all but I do really truly appreciate them more than you know.

Wellington is Sunny…

Well I am not hitting anymore disabled pervy people. I feel I have been there and done that! I did a gig last night at Indigo Bar, Ashley came along and filmed the gig, and she and I had a good time chatting to the other comics. They really are a nice bunch. We went for a late night drink with Dai Henwood and got home around 3am.
I have never slept past 6am since I have been here and this morning I had a live national radio show at 10am and for the fist bloody time I slept right past 9am. The first time I actually sleep late and I have to get up! Arrrggghhh!!!
Added to this situation is period pains, so there I was all white faced, hair like a scarecrow that has been pecked by ‘Hitchcocks birds’ and a womb like a cluster bomb being chewed by an angry Doberman, sitting opposite a lovely radio presenter talking about my show.
My brain had frozen and I had to keep talking….I may have said too much….again.
I came back to the room and there was a Scottish House keeper (the hotel here in NZ is full of Scots) “Can we get access to your room today?” She snapped at me.
She was small with a wee pinched middle aged face (like me probably) and had that angry look that clearly emitted that the last time she had sex was when Michael Jackson was black.
“No, I am sorry but I have to go to bed and the room is clean, some fresh towels would be good though” I answered as my womb decided to contract and pull most of my lower internal organs into a knot for no reason.
“Well we will need to get in there eventually” her wee angry face spat at me.
“Look what do you think we are doing in there? Starting a drug den? Maybe an illegal gambling pit? I have loads of filming wires and editing stuff and camera equipment all over the place, I don’t need it being moved around to be honest” I walked off and could feel her wee eyes bore into my back.
It is now 10am on Saturday morning and every word I write I misspell, my womb is killing me, I am sore and sleepy, I am tried and want to go home.
I don’t even know what I am supposed to be doing today, I am groggy and started this blog yesterday but still can even get the energy to tap into the key board all the stuff I wanted to say. There is a story about a video shop assistant and some funny ditties about clothes shopping, but when you have to re type every word as you go, your brain decides to stop working and you want to lie down again and over dose on painkillers and hope your womb fucks off out of your body.
Sorry talk soon Janey

I punched a Cerebral Palsy Man on the Bus…

Don’t judge me there is a story. I walked up to the Downstage Theatre where I am performing next week, I was also on that night for ‘First Laughs’ and had to do a tech rehearsal. The theatre is a quite a walk from my hotel, but a nice stroll none the less. I took some pictures of my big billboard outside, did the rehearsal and decided to catch a bus back to the hotel, as every bus goes past Lambton Quay.
The big Maori driver gave me my ticket and sat down beside a bunch of giggling school girls. They were all chattering like wee spider monkeys hanging off a tree, I love watching that, it reminded me of Ashley and all her mates when she was a school girl.
Just as the bus was about to move off, the doors opened and a big lumbering man with a cut on his head that had dried blood around it -got on, at first I thought he was drunk, and then it became clear he had severe physical issues. His walk was laboured and his left arm was twisted, he managed to make it onto the double facing seat on the left hand side of the bus. He then reached into his pocket and emptied his cash onto the seat and counted it out whilst mumbling. “God help him” I thought, it always amazes and humbles me when I see people with obvious physical problems who still manage to be mobile and lead their lives.
He then changed seats to the double seats four down the aisle in front of me; he spread himself over the seat and started talking loudly to himself. His words were inaudible but very loud.
People around started looking at each other uncomfortably, being Glaswegian we often have drunk people shout at themselves on public transport, so I wondered how the people of this capital dealt with any social situations out of the norm.
The school girls went quiet, and then looked very interested at the disabled man, one of them whispered to another and before long they were all egging one girl on to go down the aisle as she clutched her mobile phone. I thought to myself, surely they aren’t going to take a video or picture of that poor man? What do they teach their kids here? I smarted inside as one girl hissed “Why do I have to do it? You do it” to her group of mates.
I leaned over and said “That man has problems why do you all want to annoy him?”
One girl looked at me square in the eyes and said “He is sitting hugging a girl from our school and she is really shy”.
My brain froze, I never saw anyone in that seat, and maybe I never looked? Why would I? So then I strained to see and beneath his big fat arm that wrapped around the window side of his seat peeped a wee blonde pony tail.
I jumped to my feet and walked down the aisle of the bus and approached his seat, there sat a tiny wee blonde girl in school uniform almost encased in his lumbering grip, his arms was around her shoulder, his other bent arm was on her leg and he was slobbering into her face talking that language that would take years to understand.
The wee girl looked up, her huge blue eyes were filled with tears and terror, pleading with me for help.
“Do you know this man honey?” I asked in my friendly concerned voice.
“No, help me” She barely whispered and stretched her hand out to me.
The man looked at me growled and tried to hold her on the seat! I pulled her out of that corner with the strength of a lioness.
“Go sit up there” I said to the girl as I turned to face the man.
“I have cerebral palsy” he mumbled. I barely understood but it registered.
I looked at the adults behind the mans seat and the people wouldn’t make eye contact with me.
“You people sat there as that wee girl was being practically molested! What is wrong with you people, she is a child?” I shouted.
The disabled man stood up and pushed me “You” he shouted. I stood my ground and punched him on the ear and he fell into his seat
“Don’t you fucking touch me, you never got up and sat beside a woman on this bus, you chose to sit beside a wee girl and tried to manipulate the situation with your disability, well that doesn’t wash with me, I don’t give a fuck how disabled you are, you are a bastard who likes to slobber all over wee girls and that has fuck all to do with your disability that’s because you are a pervert”
At that I walked back up the bus which has now decided that he is not the bus Looney anymore that is now my JOB! I didn’t care.
“Are you ok?” I asked the school girl who was clearly shaken.
“Yes thank you” She answered, her school friends gathered round her making soothing chatter and holding her hand.
“The next time any man or anyone for that matter tries to touch you, you stand up and shout at them, your silence is their power, do you understand that?” I asked her sharply.
“Yes, I do now, but he was disabled and I was too embarrassed to say anything” she pleaded to me with her big blue eyes staring at me.
“That is nothing to do with it, people like him depend on your sympathy or silence, look at me standing here talking loudly, I know that everyone on this bus wishes I would sit down and shut up but silence and social embarrassment mean nothing when it concerns your own safety, you need to understand that” I insisted.
She smiled and nodded her head “Thanks again” she added.
I turned again to the people around and spoke loudly to them “You all sat and watched that happen and that says a lot about you people. If that was a bit tattooed Maori man you would have called the cops, if that was a Muslim man you would have stopped the incident, but you all got stumped how to deal with a disabled man assaulting a child, work that out” and that I got off the bus and realised I had missed my stop and had no fucking idea where I was.
It took fifteen minutes to get back to my hotel but it was worth every step.
I am on the TV gala tonight here in Wellington; if that wee girl watches the show she will gasp and say “That’s that scary Scottish woman who punched that pervy retard on the bus!”
She might not laugh at my comedy but I hope to God she remembers the words I said to her on that bus ride.

An Earthquake …

5am Wellington NZ, am sitting quietly on the sofa, am still waking up too early but coping with it. Ashley and I have a national TV breakfast show to appear on in less than five hours and I was pondering.
I felt a small quiver through the floor that went into a small but intense shudder, the TV shook and the windows rattled, then it was gone.
“What the fuck was that?” I said aloud.
There was no one to answer me as Ashley was asleep. I turned on the news channel and after about ten minutes it was reporting a small earthquake in Wellington.
A fucking earthquake? What is going on?
I never saw that in Lord of the Rings.
“Sorry Gandalf is dead; an earthquake killed him and all the wee Hobbits”
So we made it to the TV station, the show was well on time, make up on and there we were sitting on the ‘Good Morning’ sofa chatting to a lovely NZ lady who advertised my book in full glory to the National network of NZ!
Ashley and I joked and chatted with her and within seconds it was over.
I sat waiting in the hotel on word about the TV Gala, was I in? Did my performance make it to the TV show that goes out in NZ on Wednesday? My heart was in my mouth expecting the news to be bad, but I got a call from a TV person who told me YES I was in! Hurrah…that’s great news as it will help sell tickets in NZ if my clip goes on national telly.
More good news I got a review! Yes the gala was reviewed by some local journalists.

New Zealand Herald, 15th May 2006

JANEY GODLEY: Comedy Festival Opening Gala

Our rating: * * * *

He says: The most mumsy of tonight's performers, and she is lovely.
Her hot daughter is a hot topic and most of the jokes are at her
expense. But when you've got the funniest mum on earth, who cares?

She says: Maybe it's the Glaswegian accent, or her over-excited
multiple personalities, but you can't help but love this woman.
Whether her 20-year-old daughter Ashley still loves her, after being
mocked in front of strangers, remains to be seen.

I am so happy with that.
Last night I was on stage at Downstage Wellington, this is where I will be doing my one woman show ‘Good Godley’. I had a fun gig and the locals and press got to see a preview of my show. Ashley sat backstage and laughed and chatted to the comics, she is also excited that she is called ‘hot’ in the press.
Today is Tuesday and am sick to death of the horrible weather, it really is stormy and freezing, I need to go buy a heavy winter jacket. This weather is like Aberdeen in October.
I wanna see the sun!

All Bound for Wellington….

Auckland is cloaked in grey, the rain is horizontal and Glasgow is having a heat wave….still. How annoyed am I, we are missing the only sunshine we are likely to get this year back home! I am gutted.
Ashley and I stayed in the hotel in Auckland last night and edited the first live blog for our NZ trip. We then went out for dinner, ate quickly and got back to the room to pack up for Wellington, we were flying out at 9am this morning so preparations and room cleaning was on the cards.
Ashley lives like a gypsy, she throws all her belongings far and wide across the whole area, I manage to keep all my possessions to one corner. We bought an external hard drive also as my laptop was clogged up with all her film and sound files. So beside the many clothes she has scattered, we had a room full of wires and electronic camera equipment, tripods and film accessories, I thought I was going to go crazy!
We managed to get the cases packed up, and headed for the airport this morning…in the rain.
The flight from Auckland to Wellington is only an hour. I am doing two weeks in Wellington before we head back to Auckland for the last week of the festival. My show is at Downstage Theatre.
I have never been to Wellington before, so I was excited beyond belief but would miss all my mates and the familiarity of Auckland City.
We got on the busy flight and for some reason there were hordes of big fat people who all took there shoes off and the smell was unbearable! Ashley had her head in her leather bag the whole flight as she was retching.
“Mum what is wrong with these people? Don’t they know their feet and bodies smell like that?” she announced loudly. To make matters worse a big chubby girl behind her stuck her stinky feet up the side of Ashley’s seat and touched my daughters elbow! Ashley screamed and stuffed her jacket down between her airline seat and the window to stem the stench!
The air was fetid and I could hardly breathe.
As the plane approached Wellington, it came in low over the water, it got lower and lower and still the water was beneath us. My nerves jangled and I am a seasoned flyer, but where the fuck was the ground? Was it going to land on water?
Just as the plane dropped its wheels we suddenly came over land and the aeroplane actually just dropped onto the tarmac with a hefty bump! My mouth was dry and my heart leapt. No one fucking told me about this!
I looked at my daughter and she had those big bush baby eyes in sheer terror staring at me “What was that about? I thought we had crash landed” She hissed. Apparently flights to Wellington are notoriously scary as the runway is too short for the big planes, they are extending it this year. Not soon enough, I am scared to get back on that flight; I may walk it to Auckland next week.

So here we are in Wellington, we have a suite to ourselves, one big living room and good kitchen, two bedrooms and two bathrooms (bliss) I no longer walk around twisting my ankle on discarded shoes, no longer stumble over camera wires or get my feet tangled around a bra that looks like a stripper had been doing a dance beside my bed! I have my own room…..rock and roll!
The city does look nice, we are right in the heart of the shopping area, as we are living here for two weeks I went out and bought food, fuck knows who will cook it as Ashley and I are crap at that. We may entice a young guy back to the hotel suite with a promise of sexual favours and just force him to cook the steak I bought or we burn him with matches! I think there are men who would pay for that sort of service.
We are both on National TV tomorrow on a show called ‘Good Morning’. Sounds like fun? I am also doing the big opening festival show later on that night. I am busy but rested and miss home, miss my husband …..well at least his cooking skills.

The TV Gala…

2pm was the call time, to get to the St. James theatre in Auckland. Too early for my liking as I am not actually onstage until 10pm at night! I brought my long dress, high heels and necklace. I left Ashley at the hotel as there was no real reason to drag her out with me, she could come along at 6pm and that would give her time to dress up as well.
I got to the backstage door in time (I got yet another taxi driver from fucking hell…what is wrong with these people; he didn’t know where the St. James theatre was!!! It is the middle if the main street in Auckland and has been there for nearly a 100 YEARS, then he had no change so I told him to get fucked and never paid him, two things a taxi driver should have a-Change b-Directions)
Anyway you should see this beautiful old theatre, the intricate carvings, the old music hall façade ….it is breathtaking, and there are Tiffany lamps and stained glass fittings all around the walls….so breathtaking.
I went straight into make up…..I am not on stage till 10pm, my face eats make up, what is the woman thinking of? It is only 3pm!
Slowly but steadily the backstage filled up with the 22 acts that will be on the show.
Arj Barker, Jimoen, Danny Bhoy to name but a few and of course of genial host Dom Irrera. I did my rehearsal, I did my make up again, I did my hair again, I did more make up, I did another rehearsal. It is so hard doing your stuff to four people in a huge fuck off theatre and getting no feedback but the rehearsals are important for the TV people to check sound levels and lighting etc..
There are only 14 acts of the 22 actually getting onto television, so I am not sure if I will make it to the big screen, anyway that wasn’t a worry as I had to get through a whole day of waiting to get on stage as I was near the end.#
Ashley duly arrived at 6pm, she was beautiful, her hair all done nice and wearing her new dress, she arrived on the arm of Stephen K Amos. He is a great comic for UK and an old pal of Ashley’s.
Ashley was nervous for me, she looked strained and tense, I suppose it’s hard for her to watch me up there in case I screw up and she has to be witness to that.
Ashley took the camera and a few of us comics, walked down the red carpet for her video shot, she was not allowed to film inside the venue due to restrictions.
So I got my make up touched up again, got my hair fixed again and the show began.
Comic after comic walked up the big staircase and did their stuff to the 2000 people of Auckland.
I sat backstage pulled out her camera and spoke to it about my nerves and anticipation, she may not be allowed to film but I was ok to do it in my dressing room.
A few comics came and we shared our nervousness to the lens and then before I knew it …my time had come.
I stood there in the dark surrounded by crew, my heart was beating loudly in my chest, my mouth went dry and at that moment I thought “Maybe being a secretary was a good idea to consider right about now” But before I could contemplate a career change the music blared.
“Please welcome all the way from the East End of Glasgow” I heard Dom Irrera announce and my legs carried me to the huge set covered in lighting rigs and wires at the rear.
I walked calmly on stage and took in the whole applause and the sheer size of the room, the audience cheered, and they clapped and all I could see amongst all of those faces was my daughter’s, and for some obscure reason we made instant eye contact! I didn’t even know where she was sat! But my soul found her in those elongated frightening but electrical few seconds as I picked up the microphone. I kept eye contact, she looked scared, her fists were clenched near her mouth, her huge brown eyes staring at me, as I opened my mouth to talk, then she dropped her hands and her face broke into a huge smile, that smile I know so well and I knew it would all be ok.
I took my time, never rushed, never flustered and did my stuff. I got huge cheers and rounds of applause, the punchlines hit the mark, and the asides went well with everything I planned to say. Before I knew it, it was all over. Ashley was beaming at me, the 2000 people roared as I took a bow and left the stage.
The comics clapped as I went into the green room. “Great gig Janey” Ewan Gilmour shouted and hugged me close, I so needed that hug I can tell you.
I ran and got the camera and got one of the guys to hold it as I gave that immediate offstage reaction of the show. I was visibly shaking still!
After the show closed, Ashley was drained emotionally and begged to go back to the hotel for a sleep, “Mum I feel as if I have just given birth” She exclaimed.
Press took pictures of us both, people were shaking my hand and all the time all I could think was “When the fuck do I get to take off these high heels?”
I don’t know if my slot made the TV show, I will find out Sunday.

That First Gig is over with…

We had a great day yesterday Ashley and I, we went down to the Classic to do TV interview with myself Dom Irrera and Phil Nichol, Ashley filmed me being filmed by the TV company. I love Dom and Phil, two very wonderful comics. Then we went along Auckland harbour side which is beautiful despite the scary windy rainy weather. We went into one of the lovely harbour side restaurants and enjoyed the local seafood.
I had to get back to the hotel as I had my first gig last night, I was nervous as hell, its not my one woman show just a comedy gig at the Classic, BUT it is my first gig on this tour and important that I get off on the right foot. The ticket buying audience are out there and if I fuck up, no one will buy a ticket to see me. Luckily the crowd loved my stuff; I improvised a lot on stage (I don’t know how NOT to). I did some stuff about Ashley and I on the flight and of course that lovely story about the US customs man who demanded a joke! It all worked, when I came off stage my heart was beating in my chest, my palms were sweaty and Ashley ran and hugged me as I came off stage up into the green room “Mum that was awesome, well done”
God, I was relieved, Ashley is my harshest critic.
Today is VERY important firstly -Scotland beat Bulgaria 5-0 and there is a heat wave in Glasgow which means the world is going to end; surely that’s an apocalyptic sign?
The sun will fall from the sky and locusts will eat the fresh fields of Cornwall dry….

Secondly I am doing the BIG TV GALA here in NZ, in front of a live audience of 2000 people and going to broadcasts of squillions of Kiwi’s.
Is this the moment when I walk on stage, my mouth goes dry, my heart stops, my brain decides that’s there is nothing in there except for a few old black and white photo’s of Richard Nixon and a memory of school custard?
Do I stand in the moment of silence and feel piss trickle down my leg as my mouth refuses to move and my brain shouts to me “Hahahah!!! fuck all here Godley, look here is a President who resigned and remember the taste of lumpy dessert? Oh look…here is a wee flashback of a night you spent at a bonfire in 1974 when you were hungry and were looking for your dog”
I will die physically if that happens. Ashley will join a witness protection scheme and change her identity, move to Khuzestan and become an orphan in disgrace and make shoes for the rest of her life. My husband will divorce me and marry a woman who can cook, and has long silky hair, she will laugh prettily and smile as he talks shite and my booking diary will empty like a virus got in there and drained it of all potential.
Please don’t let that happen, it means I may have to get a real job and I am good at fuck all but talking.
So there we have it, I am so scared of stuff you cannot even begin to imagine.
Send me good vibes or in one 3 minute slot my life is over…..there is no going back if I die on stage tonight…..

Sleepless in Auckland

Yes we made the very fatal mistake of falling asleep at 5pm. I know!!! What fucking idiots we are, my daughter and I decided a wee nap would be good so I set my phone alarm for 7pm. I forgot in my haze of jetlag that my phone is on UK time and would not alarm me until Wednesday next week or something! What is wrong with me?
I was so flabby and jetlagged I could hardly function, I went into the closet and forgot why I was there, meanwhile Ashley was looking through her luggage and fell asleep with her head inside it!
That’s how tired we were, we woke up and Ashley heard people outside on the tennis court and said “How late do these people play tennis?” it was only 8pm, we had been asleep 3 hours and we just went straight back to sleepy land and woke at around 5am this morning. That’s ten hours of sleep time, we both had bizarre dreams! I dreamt I found a unicorn and slashed its throat and Ashley dreamt her dad had given an old Etch-A-Sketch and there was an automatic button that drew the Pope on it!
Weird? Yes!
So we got up and waited for the breakfast bar to open. We were both starved as we hadn’t eaten since the plane journey. We did find a biscuit in my bag and sat on the floor and shared it like we were two survivors of ‘Lost’.
I hate that programme, its second series is being shown in UK, I don’t understand how that big fat guy Hurley hasn’t lost any weight yet, or how a polar bear lives on that tropical island and doesn’t die in the heat? Who feeds it baby seals?
How come the women all look groomed and sleek, they have no straggly eyebrows, bushy arm pits and perfect skin, I look like a crack whore and I am living in a five star hotel?
The weather here in Auckland is horrific, I haven’t seen that much rain since the flood at Glastonbury last year, it’s like being back in Glasgow for fucksake.
I have three interviews today and stuff to organise, I have chatted with husband and manager John on Skype which is awesome, I love Skype.
Ashley is all bright eyed and bushy tailed, she is running around Auckland with her camera and we will have a live blog up soon on Livedigital that hosts all my media and I am sure it will also be on my webpage.
Have done my first live audio blog for Radio Café on BBC Radio Scotland, it gets broadcast next week on Tuesday 16th May.
I am so looking forward to my first gig tonight at Classic Comedy club in Auckland.
Speak soon….jetlag Janey.

Glasgow to the Bafta Awards to LA & NZ….

So very sorry I have been missing in action BUT I could not get online. We got to London after a big dash and landing at Heathrow I managed to call the taxi people who always look after me, well in theory that should be straight forward BUT….oh NO…the guy arrived late, he was the blackest man I have ever seen and was wearing clothes that were way too big for him. Like he had just killed the real driver and stolen his identity, Strange you may think that I assume this but get this….as he helped us out of the airport he then discovered he had lost his car. Ashley and I were exhausted and desperate to get to the apartments that Crown Lawn had sorted.
So we waited patiently but he then dragged us and the huge fuck off luggage all over Heathrow’s car park (which is the size of Glasgow). He was running up and down the aisles of cars frantically and then I lost it completely “Did you actually park this car?” I shouted as I saw Ashley sweating dragging a big case behind her in the rain.
“Yes, I am new” he answered in his broken English. I do feel for people who come to UK and learn the language and try to earn a living but fucksake mate, find the car or I will stab you with my pen.
I called the taxi company to assure me he was my driver and they were horrified to find out he was lost in Heathrow.
Eventually he found the bloody car and then got lost trying to find the way out, and then he hadn’t paid his ticket and got lost trying to find that. I had turned into scary mental Scottish crazed killer. I screamed at him to get it right and get us to our destination.
He then told me he had a Scottish friend ‘ who doesn’t shout’ I asked him where he was from and he replied ‘East Africa’ and I said “I have a friend from east Africa and guess what…he doesn’t lose cars’ Ashley laughed he frowned and drove like a nutter almost hitting cars in other lanes as he negotiated his way out of Heathrow.
Finally we got to Marsham Street in one piece, Ashley and I settled down and stopped trying to use mental voodoo to kill the man. He never got a tip, let me tell you.
We had a quiet night in and on Sunday (the day of the famous BAFTA TV awards) we got up and went shopping for bits and bobs that wee needed. Ashley got dressed in her beautiful outfit and looked stunning, I threw on my clothes and looked OK for an old woman.
We were so excited getting to the red carpet in our cab (not from that company) and we could hear the fans and press screaming at the celebs as the sashayed up the carpet. My heart was pounding as we passed the famous people from television and film. All those faces we see so regularly walking beside us smiling and grimacing as I stepped on their long flowing frocks! (every time I do this) Ashley looked like a pro, some paparazzi took her photo as they assumed she was famous; she turned and smiled and walked on in front. Meanwhile I just got in peoples way as I managed to block at least forty photographers just by walking, they were screaming at me ‘Move you in the black skirt, move!’ I laughed and just hurried on stepping onto Gillian Andersons dress in my haste!
When we entered the Grosvenor House Hotel, Ashley walked behind Sir Alan Sugar and we went into the champagne reception then I suddenly realised that this was the ‘Important celebrity party entrance’ and not the ‘Regular Bafta member party entrance’ I took a deep breath and carried on as if I deserved to be there, Ashley looked like she did belong, I looked like a waitress on a night off.
We spotted a free seat over beside a lovely looking middle aged couple.
“Can we sit here please?” I asked the man.
“Yes, its nice to the younger people coming out tonight” he smiled as he nodded at Ashley, I smiled and took the compliment and replied “Why thanks, most people think I am old” He laughed and we chatted.
He told me he worked in television and asked me what I did. I explained I was a Scottish stand up comic who has written a play and a book and that Ashley and I are performing a Sketch show at the fringe as well as me doing the play and my one woman show.
His wife was beautiful and she complimented on how Ashley was stunning and I should be proud and we talked about her child, like any other women do on any other given night out!
Then a woman came over and interrupted the man and tried to pitch a sketch show to him. I noted this and wondered who he might be but we were to busy chatting about old Scottish comics Lex Mclean and Chic Murray, the man (his name was Michael and his wife Francesca) told me at least ten anecdotes about these wonderful old Scottish comics and I laughed my ass off as they were fascinating, he really knew his stuff. We talked about comedy and he asked me loads of questions about my career and then I told him I am famous for my social faux pas and was he really important and was I supposed to be trying to kiss his ass and get on telly.
He laughed out loud at this and said “I used to commission stuff but not now”
Then Ashley whispered to me “Mum he is Sir Michael Grade, the head of BBC”
I turned to him and said “I am sorry I did not recognise you”
He waved his hand and answered “You met me, not some person you were trying desperately to impress and I love talking about musical hall and comedy, so stop worrying”
I noticed that many famous faces were trying to get his attention, but he was too busy telling me yet another funny story about Chic Murray on the Parkinson show, the man was absolute delight and was very charming and fucking great company. To hell he was important, he was good fun and we laughed away until we had to go to dinner. He then accepted my business card and told me he would look me up sometime. It really was just a woman meeting a bloke at a party, and how cool was it that this guy was so down to earth….oh and by the bay he is the chairman of BAFTA as well!
What can I tell you about the party? Well there was an annoying man who chatted all the way through the night at our table, it was so rude, so Ashley and I shut him up and he left and then the highlight of the night was the famously talented Ken Loach’s acceptance speech for his BAFTA Fellowship. It was awe inspiring, he berated the UK press and news association (who were sitting there in front of him) about there continuous use of the words ‘War on Terror’ when in fact it was an illegal war, all this in front of his peers and the live audience and television production ( I wonder if the edited it?).
Ken Loach is UK’s most famous and talented director who brought many innovative social issue type documentaries and films to British Screens.
He often used non actors and made films about racism, social problems like drugs addicts and single parent problems, his most famous back in the 1960’s was ‘Cathy Come home’ and ‘Kes’.
He made a docu/film about the miner’s strikes in the 1980’s that is STILL banned in this country!
My daughter worked with him when she was five and she stood and applauded him loudly after his speech. She then plucked up the courage to go speak to him.
He was walking up the main staircase and I watched proudly as my very nervous child tapped his arm, got his attention and said “Mr Loach, I am Ashley Storrie and I worked with you when I was five and I am so very privileged that you gave me that chance to work with someone who is so talented and honest, I loved your speech and agree with every word you said. I am now working and studying in documentary and film making and you will always be such a huge inspiration to young people like me who aspire to enter this industry, I just want to thank you for that”
He looked at her and said “My goodness you have grown I am sorry I don’t recognise you now, thank you for those lovely words, I appreciate that Ashley”
She walked away and told me her knees were shaking so much but she is so glad she said it to him.
Robbie Carlyle the Scottish actor was with him when Ashley spoke to him and when I chatted with Robbie later he told me the Ken Loach said that Ashley’s words had made his night, he was so touched that there were young people who understood the need to tell the truth and loved his work, he added that ‘I don’t want to impress people who don’t care, but to make young people care about seeing and recording issues’ was more important than anything!
How good was that?
So we had a very late night at the after party, I danced all night and Ashley had an odd man stare at her for five hours who eventually approached her and asked her to ‘get rid of your mother’.
Now my daughter being raised by East End Gangsters comically thought this was cue to kill me…. She replied “No I can’t get rid of my mother, but if you continue to assume I need to I may organise to get rid of you”
Turns out he is a writer for a very famous TV show, but Ashley thought he was extremely odd and disliked his attitude, meanwhile I was unaware of this man’s intentions to get rid of me because I was dancing sexily (much to Ashley’s visible horror) with a young guy from the hit show Shameless, we were grinding and ass rubbing and generally enjoying the music….and I must add doing all of the above to embarrass my daughter as the young guy knew it was making her cringe, so we did the sexy dance to the full max!
The night was over and we made it back to Marsham Street, we re packed bags and got up early to catch the flight to Los Angeles.
My mate Craig met us, checked us in and managed to bag us great seats for the flight (I love him).
So we made it across the Atlantic in a fit of sleep, excitement and cups of weak BA tea.
We easily made it through US customs until one US Homeland Security man stopped me, checked my visa and asked me what I did for a living.
“I am a stand up comic going to New Zealand sir” I spoke clearly.
He looked around at his fellow workers and added loudly “Tell me a joke”
“Please mum don’t” Ashley hissed.
“Ok….who is the worst world leader that everyone hates, he cant speak good English, is clearly mentally affected and the most people with a decent IQ cannot stand and want dead?” I smiled at him. Ashley gasped audibly.
The atmosphere turned sour in seconds, he looked down, shook his head and barked “I don’t know ma’am who would that be?”
“Saddam Hussein, that’s who….you thought I was going to say George Bush didn’t you?” I laughed.
“Yes, I did ma’am” he smiled.
“That’s because you have that opinion of your president sir, don’t blame me for that one” I laughed out loud, Ashley glared, the man stared and people all around didn’t know whether to laugh or not.
We walked straight to the Quantas check in with that guys eyes boring into my back.
After a short wait we got on the flight with FOUR seats each, lay down snuggled into a deep sleep. The only sad thing to report was that at 5am in the morning Ashley cried for her dad, she missed him she told me and felt down without him. I knew this would happen but did not expect it to happen when we hadn’t even reached NZ!
So here we are in Auckland, we met up with US comic Dom Irrera, we had a chat over breakfast in this lovely hotel. He is a huge comedy God to me, I can’t wait to work with him at the Gala and on various projects the comedy festival has lined up for me.
Ashley has been filming various parts of the journey and we will have a live blog from Auckland up soon on Livedigital, we just need to settle for a few hours.
I will be performing at the Silo in Auckland and Downstage in Wellington over the next three weeks, see my website gigs list for details if you are in NZ!
It is now 11am in Auckland and 11pm-ish in UK, so I must go and unpack. Keep watching this blog!

Dress Shopping with a Daughter….

You have no idea how fucking stressful it is going from shop to shop in the sticky heat of Glasgow looking for the perfect dress.
I would rather lie in a bath of vinegar, cut small incisions all over my thighs and stick a knitting needle into my eye than do that again.
Ashley needed a new dress for the BAFTA awards and I was hoping maybe to get a new dress also…that went out of the window.
I had to watch her try on at least fifteen different dress’s in twelve different shops. Every shop we went into looked like we may have seen ‘The One’ but alas, it wasn’t the one in fact it was the one we hated.
Eventually as we neared the last few shops in Glasgow’s Buchanan Street, we finally found the dress; it was like searching for the Da Vinci Code, it was like finally finding the Holy Grail…it was black, it fitted and it look amazing.
She will wow the Red Carpet….
Deed done, I on the other hand got nothing, so I am going to go in my pyjama’s or maybe naked with a few random drawings all over my fat ass of Casper the Ghost…I don’t know yet!
So we are almost organised, Ashley has uploaded her Mock Documentary on Livedigital, its called Make Me a Lady, go check it out. The accents are very strong but it was meant for a Scottish audience. I loved it, she makes me laugh and I have a small bit part in the video.
I need to go, so many thing to do….

Today was fun….

My daughter Ashley woke up, and told me she was filming today for her University project. Then she got upset as the guy who was playing a transvestite in her video called off. She was making a MOCK-documentary about how people do stuff to get into TV. She was filming this guy who was supposed to be getting a sex change to take part in a reality TV show.
“Dad wake up” she shouted.
“What is it?” her father pulled his head out of the covers.
“Can you get up and dress as a woman and walk along the street for me, please?” She pleaded “The actor was going to do it but has pulled out, please dad I will dress you up, and you will suit a dress, can you be a tranny for the day?”
My husband stared at her with a very frightened face “If you can’t get anyone else I may try”
What a father he is, the big East End man with gangland connections is willing to be a transsexual in public for his daughter. How cool?
Luckily Ashley did get Scott Agnew, a lovely stand up comic from Glasgow to do the job and what a job he did, it was awesome. I had a bit part also and the finished product is so funny yet touching!
I have just had a call from my mate Craig in BA, he is helping me get all my travel arrangements sorted and has been so helpful I offered to marry him; he said no- but that’s cool. I did offer!
After the horrid way I was treated by a member of staff at Glasgow British Airways back in March (she was so nasty and rude to me I complained and got apologies from BA but vowed never to use them again!)–he is the sole reason I will fly with them again. He is a credit to his company and I can’t wait to see him when he comes to The Soho Theatre shows in late June. I LOVE YA man….
I went to see my sister today as it was her birthday; she was looking lovely and am so glad she had a good lunch at Rogano in Glasgow, she deserves it.

Was walking through town today and the sun was so bright, it brought all the people out of their offices with a smile to smoke on the city streets as we have a smoking ban in all public places in Scotland.

I was trying to buy a dress today for events coming up but as usual my humongous tits fit into nothing, my body is down 18 pounds but my boobs defy all natures requests to shrink so I have to buy a huge top and a small skirt…how fucked is that?

I may get a boob reduction if this continues; my latest live blog 5 on Livedigital provoked many comments from people mostly in USA saying how big my boobs were! I am Dolly Parton of Glasgow, I am off to buy minimiser bra, the kind of bra that squashes your tits flat and practically stuffs them under your armpits! Not sexy but looks better!
Am almost all organised for NZ, and I will be blogging from there and doing live blogs into video and putting them up on Livedigital, you will see link to them through my website also.

There is no escaping the panic…

Why is it that no matter how many lists I make, or how many post-it’s I accumulate, I am still convinced I will forget something as we leave Glasgow on Saturday for London. We fly out to NZ on the Monday.
Ashley is very laid back about the whole thing; then again her version of packing for a trip involves throwing EVERYTHING she owns into a big fuck-off case and leaving me to worry about the details.
Its not until we are on a plane does she quietly ask me “Did you pack my hair straighteners and my allergy medication?”
“No, because that’s your stuff to pack!” I answer.
So this time I urged her to make a list of her important things to do.
I saw this list and do you know what it says?

1- Pack knickers and new bra
2- Ipod charger
3- New shoes and plasters for heels

So where are all the really important things, like medication, bank cards, tripod and camera?
I assume she has all this in her head, it makes me mental. I am mentally packing and unpacking in my fucking sleep.
I have a few big events to pack for, like the BAFTA TV awards, then the TV2 Gala in NZ and the Divas Comedy gala. I need to pack some fancy frocks.

Husband is quietly padding about the flat staring at me today; he actually stared and stared until I asked him what was going on.
“I am just making sure that I wont forget how you look” He answered.
“Well if you ever forget in the four weeks I am away, there are videos of me on my website then you can remember” I told him.
“I don’t want to remember you through videos. I want to recall how you look sitting there in my head”
To get him off this morose subject matter, I said “Do you love me?”
“Yes, you know I do” he said.
“Ok, if I our love was a country which country would it be then?” I laughed, as he hated anything that asked his Aspergers brain to be creative.

He never even paused for breath
“Italy, it would be Italy, as I don’t know where I am most of the time, I don’t understand the language, I am not familiar with the currency, Italy’s leader had to be thrown out as he couldn’t accept he was outvoted and there is a constant power struggle there, Italians are curvy and dark and well dressed, they talk loudly and are full of passion, but underneath they are just as soft as fresh pasta! So our love would be Italy”

I looked at him and laughed but with affection as he never could have rehearsed that, I pull these questions out of nowhere and I have never asked him that before.
“Good answer!” I said, and I meant it. That was a good answer, my husband is the quiet man, the man who stands back and watches the two women in his life perform and talk loud.
I am worried he will miss Ashley and let it get him down. He is used to not seeing me but those two are very rarely parted.
She is being very offhand and brave saying stuff like “I wont really miss papa, I will be fine”
Trust me this girl will get to week two and cry on the phone to her beloved daddy. He will probably get on a plane and wing it to NZ , it doesn’t matter how old she is, he is still the number one person in her life, and no one can replace that. Not even me.
So with that in mind maybe she should stuff her daddy into her case, to be honest he would probably fit into the case she has dragged into the hall, it looks like the kind of luggage used for carting bodies around and with her fathers history with gangland connections …..Who knows maybe I should check her case before we leave!

I love Comedy…

I had such fun last night at Blackfriars comedy club. The whole place has been completely changed and renovated. The sad thing is, the owners have installed a huge fuck off Air Conditioning/ Smoke extractor system that racks its way across the ceiling, huge big silver cylindrical tubes snaking its way all around the room and all it manages to do is carry the music from upstairs – to the downstairs comedy room, and Scotland has a no smoking ban! All that cash and hard work for nothing!

I had a great gig though, a lovely wee intimate gig, just about 50 people sitting round me, I sat on a tall stool at the microphone and had such a relaxed yet - funny time. I have never enjoyed a gig so much in ages.

Today, I uploaded some more of the footage that Ashley filmed down in the Glasgow Green; I made it into a small video that I will put on my Livedigital webpage this week.

I have spent all day trying not to argue with husband, he is making me mental by repeating the same thing over and over to me when he explains stuff he needs me to do before I go away next week.
Maybe I am just being nasty again; I am so stressed at times and chilled out at others.

It’s my big sister Ann’s birthday this week, she will 50 years of age!
I can’t believe she is middle aged (like I am not?) I love my sister; she has been a rock in my life since we were wee kids. She has four kids and four grandchildren….soon to be five as my niece is expecting a baby this year.
I still think of my big sister as the lassie in the blue dress, thick Alice band holding down a head of chunky dark hair, atop a very determined face that always got her way. My sister was not the kind of girl who let other walk over her; if I was getting bullied…Ann sorted it out!

So after a whole week of self reflection and spending too much time in my own head I have came to the conclusion that I need to just get on with life and stop analysing every fucking emotion my body goes through!

I want to thank everyone who has sent me lovely comments supporting me through the past few weeks, when I was under stress and pouring some of that out on my blog here.
I have been meeting deadlines for the Edinburgh Fringe and it was getting so difficult to work away and get everything done.
Maria at Printlink has been a hero, spending time with me, poring over the tiny details of my posters and making sure they were perfect for me.
So one week till we go to London and then onto Los Angeles and then onto New Zealand.
I will be taking you all with me, also I will be doing live blogs from Auckland and Wellington.