At last...There are others like me.

Brilliant programme on tele last night.

Charlie Brooker's Screenwipe.

Sy loves this, i can only assume, because it hurls scorn on the world of television.

I watch it with him, if only to keep an eye on The Writer, and make sure he doesn't die of a coronary while he's either laughing or jumping up and down in agreement with what's being said.

Last night it was about writers.

Russell T Davies, Tony Jordan, Graham Linehan (ahhh, go on, go on, go on. Don't you just miss Father Ted so much?) and Paul Abbott.



So i had my hands full, i can tell you.

Sy had told me once, that one of his projects had gone head to head with a project from one of the above mentioned.

And seeing as all the above you will have heard of, you can guess what the outcome was.



The programme was brilliant though. Loads of interesting stuff, and as i watched it, i knew my Writer was not really that mad.

I'm going to change that.

it made me realise that all writers are as mad as each other.

That's better.

Tony Jordan talked about writing his 'Dot Cotton' monologue for 'Eastenders'.

He went to his study with a bottle of Bacardi, a bottle of coke and forty fags.

He said how he wrote and drank and smoked and at 4.00am, he was woken by his wife Tracey, bringing him a cup of tea and a bacon sandwich.

He came too, smeared in dribble and fag ash, having been face down asleep on the keyboard, and realised he had finished the piece.

Been there, done that, seen it time and time again.



But what stuck out for me, the moment i knew i wasn't alone, was when he said that his wife brought him food and drink.

At 4.00am.



And i knew that i wasn't alone.



Till next time,

Shakespeare's Housekeeper xx