Male, sharing with female (14):

Sleep on left side: 50% (7)
Sleep on right side: 50% (7)
Furthest from door: ~64% (9)
Nearest door: ~36% (5)

When they have the bed to themselves:

Sleep on same side: ~43% (6)
Sleep on other side: ~7% (1)
Sleep in middle: 50% (7)

Female, sharing with Male (8):

Sleep on left side: 50% (4)
Sleep on right side: 50% (4)
Furthest from door: 50% (4)
Nearest door: 50% (4)

When they have the bed to themselves:

Sleep on same side: 25% (2)
Sleep on other side: 25% (2)
Sleep in middle: 50% (4)

Clearly, 22 responses is nowhere near a big enough sample to draw valid and meaningful conclusions from (extrapolation of this data would conclude that same-sex couples don’t: read my blog/respond to polls about sleeping habits/sleep in double beds [delete as applicable]), but they have thrown up some cute points.

When alone in bed, one guy and two girls swap places to sleep on their partner’s usual side. I sleep on the right hand side of the bed, and don’t swap or move to the middle when my partner’s not there (although at my family home, or in hotels, I tend to sleep in the centre of the bed), but sometimes I’ll place a pillow against my back, as if she was still in the bed. Practically, this stops me sprawling out across the mattress, as I have long limbs and am rather adept at stealing bed space when sharing, so this clamps down on that particular sleep habit for when she is there (also, it’s comforting to feel like she’s still there, but THAT IS DEFINITELY NOT THE MAIN REASON, I’M A MANLY MAN RAAAAARGH!).

Two responses shared an IP address, and the answers matched up, so I shall assume they are a couple, with the gentleman moving to the middle when alone in bed, while the lady stays on her side when sleeping solo.

Choice of left or right was equal for both sexes, with a greater percentage of women sleeping nearer the door than men, although without further questions – mainly, a) Do you have an infant child who constantly wakes you? and b) Do you have the bladder of an infant child that constantly wakes you?, there’s little that can be read into that. A more thorough post from BlogHer about Which side? can be found here, discussing wall placement, children and ninjas.

So thank you to those who responded, and apologies for the lack of anthropological insight. Speaking of which, I will be on Dutch TV (specifically RTL4) this evening at 10pm (Dutch Time), where, edit-permitting, I will jovially dismiss my degree before discussing British weather, sarcasm and drinking habits. For those of you who aren’t in the Netherlands, I’ll post a clip up here when it’s available.

I’ll be on stage at the Preston Frog and Bucket, and then driving back home to London when it’s airing, so will be unable to watch, yet have hubristically scheduled a Facebook page updatefor after it finishes, saying how lovely it was. It went well on the night, but a lot can be lost in translation – let’s hope the individual doing the subtitles for my segment GOT OUT OF THE RIGHT SIDE OF BED THAT MORNING.

Who needs anthropological insight when you’ve got callbacks?

Ginglik’s mosaic.

Last night was the final Laugh show at Shepherd’s Bush-based-club Ginglik before it changes hands and undergoes a revamp. It’s undecided whether comedy will return to the venue once it reopens, but I hope it does.

It’s a cute little club, situated in the old public toilets under Shepherd’s Bush Green, and is surprisingly spacious and and clean given that description. For me, it’s always sad to see a long-established club close its doors (Laugh had 9 years under its belt, with line ups that featured pretty much every major act in the country, and a certain Mr Robin Williams on one occasion), not just because it’s one less gig to play and earn from, but because with its closure, it seems that a chapter of comedy history is closed.

The entrance to Ginglik

Not that a chapter ending is a bad thing, but when you remodel a room, remove a stage, wallpaper the green room, you’re altering the place where careers were made, stories gained and audiences entertained. In my university thesis, I argued for a listings system applicable to cultural landmarks similar to that seen in the field of architecture, with buildings given Grade I or Grade II status, preventing substantial development or alteration of/to them. Abbey Road studios was listed, in one of the major example of protecting a site for reasons of art over architecture.

I’m not suggesting that Ginglik had an impact similar to the Studios, or to The Red Rose, one of London’s first comedy clubs, which my thesis was centred on (it was closed after 20+ years and completely redeveloped – although I haven’t visited recently, it had planning permission for flats to be built on the site); I’m not even sure how strongly I feel about the situation – perhaps one of the many reasons my thesis received a Third class mark (41, so only just) – but I do hope comedy will continue there.

The main room (for comedy, it’s set up cabaret-style).

Being a no-longer-functioning toilet, it stirred up a memory – one from no more than two months ago, that I’d intended to blog about before forgetting, as I have a terrible memory for things other than jokes and trivia – and it goes like this:

I’m at a pub in East London, Stratford specifically, having a burger with three friends after an afternoon jamming improv games in the park. My friend Sophie is eating fish and chips, and they’re not very nice. My burger is good, and I’ve got a free pint of Czech lager Kozel thanks to an app-based promotion. This is my third pint, and I need a wee.

We’re competing in a pub quiz. Not intentionally, we just sat down in the area where it was going to be on, and when the landlord, Quizmaster D (short for Dave) turned on the mic and announced that it was quiz time, we were waiting for our food and so were trapped, forced to compete. Plus, it’s £1 a team and as a group of recent graduates, we fancy our chances.

There’s an interval in the pub quiz – unnecessary, as there’s a 3-7 minute break between each of the 20 questions where Quizmaster D plays a song. The 7 minute one was so he could have a fag break. Still, I take the interval as a chance for a much-needed toilet break, so head off to the gents. The one near the quiz room is occupied, so I head to the loos in the lounge, where a painted arrow shows their location.

Upon entering, the floor is wet and the one cubicle is locked. There are two urinals, one with a plastic bag in it, and one with a plastic bag under it. Upon using the one without a bag in it, it becomes apparent that it is out of order, due to a leak underneath it. This means that wee is going all over the floor, as the bowl fills and the piss percolates down and through the gaps in the washer-less pipe beneath. Still, I had really needed a wee, and the only way I can potentially solve the situation is to stop mid-flow and transfer to the sink, which just seems weird, and disrespectful to the landlord. Unlike indirectly pissing all over the floor.

At this moment, in walks Quizmaster D.

“For fuck’s sake” he exclaims, using the full version of the popular internet acronym. “Did you not see the bag?”, implying that I did, but had fished the pissy plastic bag from the bowl and gone anyway. All the while, I continue to micturate. “I can’t really stop, you see”, I lie, inching back to keep my shoes away from the growing pool.

Quizmaster D bangs on the cubicle door. “Hurry up, we’re pissing on the floor out here” – he hadn’t joined in, but I suppose it gave his request more emphasis. A minute later, the man in the cubicle exits, and leaves without looking at us or washing his hands, which strikes me as unhygienic, until I shuffle backwards to escape yet more puddling piss, and bump into Quizmaster D, who is weeing in the sink.

We win the quiz.

There you go.

I now have a facebook page which you can ‘like’ if you wish to be updated with things like pictures, videos, jokes and gig updates. I’d be flattered if you did.

https://www.facebook.com/christurnercomedy

Also, there’s a day left to answer 5 questions about your sleeping habits if you share a double bed. Click here to do so.

Ta ra fa na.

Sometimes, rather than work thoughts into jokes, I put them in my anthropology brain-space. This is one of them. If it applies to you, it would be wonderful if you could click the five boxes below. It’s anonymous, and doesn’t need your email address.

If you share a double bed, what side do you sleep on, and do you change when not sharing?

(For orientation purposes, positions are taken as if you were standing at the foot of the bed with the pillows furthest away from you.)

The poll is now closed. Results are here.

On the 21st May, I recorded a set for RTL4′s The Comedy Factory - it was a bundle of fun, and will be broadcast this Saturday. I shall post my set soon after. Here are some photos courtesy of Danny van den Berg.

Me, on stage, doing a face.

Me, Rajko Disseldorp, Najib Amhali, Tammy Pescatelli, Alex Agnew

Last weekend I was at the Brighton Komedia, and had a lovely time (I even got a hat) with Addy van der Borgh, Rory O’Hanlon, Simon Evans, Stephen Grant and Russell Kane. Here is the video of Saturday’s shorter set:

Also, for the next few days, you can watch Romesh Ranganathan’s stand up on Russell Howard (from 27 mins in), and when I say can, I mean should. It’s great.

Ta ra fa na.

When you’re bullied as a child, you might dream of one day becoming famous, and being able to give a big ‘Piss you!’ (that was probably the rudest word I knew in primary school) to all the people who picked on you; to appearing on TV, winning the lottery, curing cancer, and raising two fingers to those who thought you were nothing.

When I skipped a year of school, moving up to Year 6 from Year 4, a few of the 10 year olds didn’t like having a 9 year old in their class, wearing glasses and answering questions like some annoying Hermione Granger/Harry Potter hybrid (though not smart enough to realise that it’s not pronounced Her-mee-own), and took it upon themselves to make fun of me, and/or push me around. The stupid thing was, being born on September 12th, I turned 10 after a few days, and was already taller than most of the year, so it never got too bad, and when, one day, the ‘ringleader’ forgot his consent form for a Year 6 trip (which I wasn’t allowed to attend, technically being a Year 5), I kicked him in the cock and told him that if he or his friends bullied me again, I’d kick him in the other one. This anatomically-inaccurate, yet anatomically accurate and unprovoked attack got me 10 minutes of hard wall-facing, but the teasing stopped. RESULT.

But now, bully-who-had-such-an-impact-on-my-life-that-I’ve-forgotten-your-name, get ready to be kicked in the other one good and proper…

I’M GOING TO BE ON TV!

That is right. Admittedly, you won’t be able to watch it unless you’re living in the Netherlands or Luxembourg, but even so…TV!

On Monday I’m off to record 15 minutes for The Comedy Factory, a stand-up show featuring 4 acts, hosted by Najib Amhali (one of the biggest selling Dutch comics) and broadcast on RTL 4, the most-watched channel over there. The show ran from 1999-2006 and had an amazing line-up of comics, both Dutch and International, and is now back for a new series, so it’s wonderful to be asked to take part.

It’s being broadcast in June, so I’ll have a clip to post here soon after, although I’m sure there is a clever way to watch online or via catch-up, but as I don’t yet know what it is, or whether it’s legal, I shall reserve comment.

If you happen to be in Rotterdam, tickets for the show (and for the warm-up gigs on Monday) are available here and here - it would be lovely to see you.

I’m now off to choose my walk-on music and try on my new suit. Let’s hope they fit.

Stay fly,

Chris x

At the end of the night, I chatted to a couple of the guys about hip-hop and headed off to Camden Town in time to make it down the Northern and Piccadilly lines to catch the last Westbound District line train. As I got up to change at Euston, a group of 8 Asian girls saw me and shouted:

“Chris! Oh my god – Chris! It’s that guy from tonight – Chris!”

 

“Hi”

 

“Oh my god, you were amazing – your rapping is incredible -”
“Yeah, you’re such a good rapper!
“Oh my god, that rap was like, amazing”

“Aww, thank you!”

 

“Can we get a picture?”

 

“Yeah, sure”

 

*All throw gang signs*

 

“Thank you Chris the rapper!”

 

“Thanks guys, and cheers for coming!”

And with that, I dashed off to make my changes, smiling. It’s nice when people let you know they’ve enjoyed a show, it’s even nicer when they do it outside of the venue, and it’s even even nicer when they don’t once mention the word comedy, or funny, or hilarious, and instead confuse a busy tube carriage into thinking that this strange looking gentleman who none of them recognised was in fact a gangster rapper with a sizable Asian following. 

Ballin’.

If you enjoy it, please like, comment and share it amongst your friends – it’s in a competition to win money and mentoring, which we’d dearly love (and need).

Thank you x

Here’s a sketch that I wrote for Racing Minds, the improv troupe I’m in. It’s only 60 seconds long, so enjoy, and if you like it, please do share it amongst your friends!

Monoliths by Lotus Plaza.

I like this song a lot. I was listening to it on the way back from a gig in Watford, when a small group of perhaps eighteen or nineteen year-olds got on the train and sat next to a fifty-something year-old woman. For the next twenty five minutes they chatted together and ate quavers, passing round bags and laughing, the woman included. I had my headphones in, so didn’t hear what they were saying – on purpose, as it seemed a shame to ‘discover’ what there were actually discussing – but it was a pleasure to see them all getting on.

I’m doing some new jokes at Rise of the Idiots in Balham tomorrow, alongside some excellent stand-ups (so come along if you’re near and free) and I opened tonight with some new ones that will be going into my hour for Leicester, which worked nicely, so it’ll be fun to tell them in full context.

In other news, if you live in/near Nottingham, I’m doing a preview on February 1st – details here.

My thoughts are drained and I need to take my contact lenses out. Night.

English Breakfast Tea, particularly Waitrose’s own brand, is the best kind of tea. The name is misleading, like breakfast cereal, Tropicana Ruby Breakfast juice and Belvita Breakfast Biscuits, it is well suited to any time of day. I have mine strong and milky, which can sometimes confuse people, as these may seem like opposites – specifically strongly brewed (2 or 3 minutes with a bag, 7 or 8 minutes with leaves, and I much prefer leaves when I have time for them), with a lot of milk, so it’s the right temperature to drink straight away. I like it in a big mug, and I don’t take sugar. I have it when I wake up, usually in bed, and then one or two more cups during the day.

Tea is great. While I also like coffee, tea is usually cheaper at service stations, pubs, cafés and cinemas (The Lexi cinema in Kensal Rise does a nice cuppa), and so it’s economically superior, especially if you get a two-person pot.

Tea number two is a Darjeeling and Assam blend, made by my girlfriend’s mum. It is the king of ‘relaxation’ teas. I wouldn’t have it in the morning – it’s too delicate – and I wouldn’t have it in the evening – it’s too caffeinated – but in the afternoon, with a biscuit or cake, it is the bomb, as far as teas can be ‘the bomb’.

Tea three is Twinings’ Lemon and Ginger, a cracking caffeine-free tea that I like in the evening – it’s nice and warming, and has more flavour than chamomile, while inducing the same sleepiness. In fact, I’m drinking some now. A bonus with this tea is that if you add some honey and a slug of whiskey, you get a delicious cold remedy/soother/warder-offer (depending how you want to justify it), and it is yummy.

Those are my top three teas. Yours?