So, how has your last 48 hours been? Pretty exciting, I would imagine, eh? You’ve probably been organising parties, getting off with models or shouting at Johnny Ball. Not me. I’ve been busy feeling sorry for myself.

What a crap couple of days it’s been. I have no idea why I’m in this crappy mood. Well, I have some idea. I’ve got another cold (my 5th this year, I think), it Christmas and I’ve spent too much time on my own recently. None of that has helped put me in a good mood. Plus I keep thinking about next year a lot. What am I going to do next year? I’ve done brilliantly at the art of time wasting but I think I’ve gone as far as I can with that. I may actually have to do some work. I know I should do my own Edinburgh show next year but I’m scared.

On a lighter note, I had an argument with a toilet attendant yesterday. Oh, yeah. Is there anyone who I won’t open my big mouth to? Cripples, children, toilet attendants. None are safe from my dubiously moral finger pointing. But, to be fair, he started it.

I turned up at Sway, a venue in Covent Garden, to perform at yet another Christmas gig. I’ve really enjoyed my recent shows at Sway but, as it’s a Christmas gig, I thought it best to go to the toilet before I went on. Just like the superstitious actor will kiss the colour blue three times and then break someone’s leg before performing in Hamlet so the stand-up comedian, at Christmas time, must have a great big shit.

I went into the toilet and straight into the cubicle. There were three men in there already (not the cubicle) and one of them was the toilet attendant. He was cheerily squirting soap and passing out paper towels in the hope of a time. He was also singing. As it’s the festive season he merrily sang the classic “It’s Christmas Time, It’s Lovely Time”.

No, I’ve never heard of it either but those are the complete lyrics and the song never ever ever fucking ever ends.

“It’s Christmas time, it’s lovely time” he sang while I sat in the cubicle wondering why on Earth he was doing this. This isn’t a Coke advert. If you sing openly in public people will just think you’re a fucking nutter who should be locked up, castrated and shot. They won’t think you’re cool. “It’s Christmas time, it’s lovely time” he sang over and over and over again, a never ending pointless loop of insanity until my own faeces refused to enter this world until he shuts up.

I heard him squirting soap, singing and coins hitting his tip plate while I sat there thinking will he ever shut up. He wouldn’t. Do you know why? Because it’s Christmas time, it’s lovely time apparently.

This was getting me nowhere. I thought to myself that I’ll wash my hands without assistance and leave no tip. I’ve done it before, I think. The song had broken my mind so I was no longer sure. Sadly, for me, the toilet attendant was very keen. I got out of the cubicle and as soon as I touched the tap he was right beside me squirting soap and singing “It’s Christmas time, it’s lovely time”. That’s OK. As long as I dry my hands myself I can still get out of here without tipping. Shit. I was too slow. There he was, quick as a flash, with a paper towel and singing “It’s Christmas time, it’s lovely time”. I thanked him and headed for the door. As soon as I opened it he stopped singing. “No tip?”

“Not today, mate”, I said red-faced but smiling.

“That’s bad, man”, he replied.

Was it? Was it really so bad? Well, he’s right really. It is bad to not leave a tip and not explain why. So I explained.

“It’s the singing, mate. It’s too much”, I said.

“But it’s Christmas time”.

“It’s lovely time. Yeah, I know. It’s just you were singing the same line over and over. It got a bit annoying. Just don’t think singing in the toilet is a good idea, you know?”

He looked very serious all of a sudden. Then he turned his back and said “I’m singing because it’s Christmas.

NOT IN A TOILET, IT ISN’T, MATE. Fucking hell, if I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a billion times: Toilets aren’t seasonal. They don’t celebrate anything. No-one goes to the toilet to celebrate their birthday, Easter, Hanukkah, Bank Holiday Monday or St. Swithin’s Day and they certainly don’t celebrate Christmas there either. I understand why someone might go to the toilet on the anniversary of a tragedy. They’re very quiet places, toilets. You can think there. But NOT if some cunt is continually singing “It’s Christmas time, it’s lovely time”.

Anyway, I went on stage and pretty much died. I didn’t feel too bad about it though. I already felt bad. Like I said, I’m fed up at the moment. The previous night I did a gig in Edinburgh and wound myself up about it so much before I went on that I felt ill. I just KNEW I was going to die. It’s Christmas, there are work parties here and I am going to die on my arse. I wound myself up so much that when I went on and had a great time, I couldn’t even enjoy it. Stupid Legge. So last night I didn’t even think about the gig and I died. Let that be a lesson to ye.

I’ll cheer up soon. I’ve got some new Los Quattros Cvnts dates coming up (details soon) and I’m taking January as the month that I at least try to write an Edinburgh show. Whether I go to Edinburgh or not we’ll find out later but I need to just write a bunch of new stuff anyway so I might as well aim for an Edinburgh show while I’m at it, eh? Right? Hmmmm…

By the way, while I’m in a fucking cunt of a mood and before I return to my normal cheeky but cheery self why not try out these two blogs? They’re excellent. The first is by Chris Limb: http://www.catmachine.eu/ and the other by Liam Mullone: http://www.facebook.com/note.php?note_id=236414726759

Note: This is the second time that I have written this blog. Bloody Facebook. When will I learn?

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Robin Cooper (aka Robert Popper) of The Timewaster Letters plays 4 members of the same family when a telemarketer calls….

Following his highly successful turn on Shooting Stars in the 2nd part of athree part interview Angelos Epithemiou sits down with his friend and mentor Bob Mortimer to talk about how he got the job on Shooting Stars and how he tried to get Ulrika into bed with a friend egg.

Bob Mortimer: So, we’ve gotta ask, ’cause they’ve kindly come down to see us from The Fix magazine-

Angelos Epithemiou: Who?

BM The Fix magazine – I was explaining earlier about the comedians. Got to ask – Shooting Stars?

AE What about it?

BM How did that happen?

AE Stitch-up. Well, you know how it happened!

BM Well, yeah, but it’s the way this works – so the readers of The Fix will know.

AE Oh. Well, you met me-

BM You wrote to me.

AE - I wrote to you -

BM In fact, I’ve got – shall I get the letter? it’s a fricking disgrace… (Bob Leaves)

AE You’re telling me! ‘Scuse me, I’m gonna have a cupful of this…sick of this…I don’t like him, and I don’t think I’ve ever liked-

BM (returns) That’s how it all started. “Hello, please give this to Mortimer or Reeve (sic), but Mortimer…more. More Mortimer than Reeve ’cause he knows about all this stuff and everything, thank you from Angelos Epith…theemoo…e-ooo.

AE Epithemiou.

BM Alright, Angelos! And that was accompanied by a CD-

AE Yeah. That’s right.

BM …a CD what you filmed.

AE Yeah, I filmed the CD. And I just said, “It’s about bloody time”, you know, “that you give me a job”, and then you wrote back a long bloody letter saying “Do you wanna work…” - all these stupid questions, like “Do you wanna work in telly, on telly-”

BM So you actually sent me a DV- a CDDVD with that letter, which is on a bit of kitchen paper-

AE (chuckles) That’s right, yeah!

BM Well, what’s funny about that?

AE It’s all I had, innit? But I think that it was the right thing to do. Because I’d been having a look at you for some time, and, you know, I thought… “nng, yeah, a lot of what he’s doing is weak, now”. And I think, you know, “I could help him out”. So I said, you know, “It’s about time you give me a job”, you know, because it’s like, I’ve been badgering him for years and years and years, you know…

BM This is just lies!

AE It’s not true, because I have never met him, but in my head I had.

Harry Deansway Why comedy?

AE Who?

HD Why comedy? Why the genre of comedy?

AE What…?

BM Did you wanna be on telly?

AE Yeah.

BM Well, why not as an actor, or…?

AE I didn’t wanna do comedy. Not comedy. I didn’t care…

BM That’s why you chose Shooting Stars – is that your joke, is it?

AE (laughs) I wanted to just, well… you’ve seen that show. It’s, you, you know – babyish, isn’t it? What they do on there…

HD So you thought it would be the easiest way…

AE I thought it would be a good place to go on, talk about me van, talk about me business – you know - and then they go and stitch me up and make me look like on idiot on there.

BM How did we stitch you up?

AE Well, you made me say stupid things-

BM Like?

AE - like, you know, “What hobby do you like?” and all that stuff, and you made a great big bloody thing because I couldn’t remember the name of the…

BM Fishing.

AE Fishing, yeah. And you made me…

BM Who made an idiot of themselves – me and Vic, or you? ‘Cause you couldn’t remember it was called fishing?

AE You made me – you made me make an idiot of themself, and then you kept it in - obviously I didn’t want that to stay in the show. And then they go “Oh yeah, we’ve done all that, yeah”. Then they showed me it and I’m, like, “I look… stupid!”

BM D’ya enjoy it?

AE No… Yeah, I did a bit, yeah…

BM You enjoyed Ulrika, didn’t yer?

AE (mumbles) Ulrika, I enjoyed Ulrika – she enjoyed me.

BM I’ll tell you what… (speaks into mic) Ask him about Ulrika, Harry - I’m not going to be here, ’cause I know he likes talking about Ulrika. Bit of privacy…

AE Yeah, yeah, yeah…

BM Don’t say anything you’ll regret, Angelos. (leaves)

AE Yeah, don’t worry about it. He’s off - he doesn’t like hearing about this stuff – it’s mucky. What do you wanna know?

HD So, Ulrika – did something happen, there?

AE Weeeeellll, you know, I went ’round her house and stuff, you know… She said “Do you want a cup of tea?”. I said “No”… And then she said “Do you want a cup of coffee?” I said “No”. And then she said “Do you want a Coca-Cola?” and I said “No”, then she said “Do you want some milk?” and I said “Yes - I do want some milk”, and she said “I haven’t got any”. So we had to go through all that, you know, that was the first thing we had to get over. She went down the shop, and she got some milk, and I, you know… I was alright then, I felt comfortable with her, you know. Then… and then her kids starting running in and out, and running in and out, and running in and out – and there’s loads of them, I don’t know if you know, I think she’s got about ten, I think, something like that – you know, it makes things difficult for me. I’m thinking, “Any minute now, I’m gonna make me move, I’m gonna make me move, I’m gonna make me move…” And then when I did make me move… You know… (clears throat)… It was embarrassing. Because it was like, I don’t think I made it clear, that I… what my intentions were, you know. And so, it’s, we just stood there, really. And I don’t think saying to someone, “Can I fry you an egg?” is any sort of, like, chat-up line. Now I think that. Now I think that… you know. So… I left, really, I left the house, you know. I’ll have to wait ’til next year, and see how we get on next year.

HD Who invited you? Did you invite yourself ’round?

AE Yeah. Well, I said I wanted to chat about my book…

HD Your book? You’ve got a book?

AE No! I haven’t. I had to make that up. Any way you can, you know, to get through the door.

HD So nothing happened, but you felt there was something?

AE Definitely. She… she got her eye on me. I know that. Everyone knows that, you know. But it’s just, it’s just getting to the next stage, which, you know, is always the tricky bit. I’m sure you know, I mean, looking at you. You’ve probably had your fair share of problems…

HD Yeah

HD You must have had quite a volume increase of interest since you’ve been on telly?

AE It’s been stupid, all these idiots, you know, saying “ALRIGHT ANGELOS!”, you know, keep calling me a ‘leg-end’. Don’t know why they call me that…’leg-end’.

HD What does that mean?

AE I don’t know! I don’t know. I’m just thinking, “Is it something I’ve said? Is it how I look…?” ‘Leg-end’. I don’t know! (pause) I’ll get to the bottom of it. (Bob appears at the door) I reckon he’s behind most of it…

HD He’s just standing at the door! Yeah, we’re finished, we’re finished about Ulrika.

BM Yer didn’t say anything too filthy, did yer?

AE No, I didn’t say nothing filthy! I told him what happened – nothing.

HD He said people on the street keep calling him a ‘leg-end’.

BM Yeah?

AE Yeah, I’m having a lot of problems with it. He said, is there any, like, people interested in stuff, and I said “Yeah! There’s people, like, writing to me all the time, and calling me “Angelos, you’re a leg-end” and I don’t know why they’re saying that.

BM Legend, Angelos.

AE Who?

BM Legend, one word – legend.

HD Have you got any tips Bob, for dealing with the pressures of fame, for Angelos?

AE Tits.

BM Titties. (pause) How they can help you cope with the… wh-what?

AE Tits.

BM Tits?

AE Have you got any tits? Is that what you said?

HD Tips…

AE & BM Oh! Tips!

HD …tips for dealing with, because fame can be hard for some people to deal with, so Bob might be able to give you some advice on that, I don’t know.

BM Are you still working at the van?

AE Errrrr…no. No. I stopped months ago, to be honest with you.

BM Did you?

AE Yeah. Yeah…

BM The van’s still there?

AE It’s still there, just telling…John-

BM Harry!

AE I was just telling Harry, him, it’s got a puncture on it.

BM You can’t shift it.

AE You can’t, cant serve tea in a van like that! Can’t cook – all the bacon slides off the griddle!

—-

Shooting Stars DVD is out now and you can see Angelos Epithemiou perform live here

Join us for part two next time where Angelos unveils his ideas for future TV projects

It’s Tuesday, which means some more choice spots from our degenerate-hunting Fix writers/experts.

Elephant and Castle shopping centre, Elephant and Castle, London

Despite being a place of commerce, there isn’t a single thing of aesthetic, recreational, or practical value here. As the epicentre of the apocalypse, all this place is missing is a Thunderdome. The traders look like they take pleasure in firing harpoons into litters of kittens, and to so much as look at a fellow shopper is to be shivved like a lifer. You’ll leave this place disoriented and sickened, like you woke in a park to discover a tramp defecating on your chin. A zombie flick set in this mall would be so horrific as to redefine the genre. David Bussell

Seven Sisters, London

What happens to dogshit after it’s been emptied out of the dogshit bins? Well, every night men in overalls carefully empty the bins, placing millions of fresh, unused dog turds around Seven Sisters in an attempt to make the inner city more rural. The real artistry can be seen in the seemingly random nature of the drop points, but it’s all been carefully orchestrated by the council. Of particular note is the care taken to remember to put that one extra special shit outside The Fix’s front gate every morning. The one we have to jump over and warn guests about. That’s attention to detail. There really is a lot of shit in Seven Sisters. Nick Helm

Hello. How are you?

I don’t normally welcome the reader to my blog but it’s my first for a week, the longest break since I started, so I thought I’d say hello and welcome back. Thanks for reading. Really appreciate it. Oh, and merry Christmas.

The season has begun. Last night I did my first Christmas gig of the year and I realised that we are all in an interesting time of year. Wherever we go for the next month we will all hear music that we hate. We will complain about hearing these awful festive tunes and the fact that we cannot avoid them. Slade’s Merry Christmas Everybody, Wizard’s I Wish It Could Be Christmas Every Day and Gary Glitter’s Another Rock n’ Roll Christmas will be played and played and played and played and played and played and played and played and played and played and played and played and played and played and fucking played and played and played and played and played and played and played and played and played and played and played and played and played and played and played and played and we will be upset.

Upset at hearing the same awful songs over and over and just simply coming to terms with the fact that apparently it’s fine to play Gary Glitter songs as long as it’s only at Christmas time. It is a time for children after all.

We will be upset and we will complain. “Not this again”, we will think to ourselves. “I fucking hate Shakin’ Stevens. Even his non-Christmas catalogue is not to my taste, if I’m being very, very honest”. BUT….

We will also say BRILLIANT very loudly when The Pogues & Kirsty MacColl’s Fairytale Of New York gets played. That’s the Christmas song that everyone in the world likes. At this time of year, we are all drowning in the 3000ft swamp of excrement that is Christmas music and when someone throws us the life preserver of The Pogues & Kirsty MacColl’s Fairytale of New York we grab it and cheer.

Then, in two weeks time, we will all hear that song for what we hope will be the last time ever. It too will be overplayed beyond recognition. It will become one of THEM. It will change, from something we trusted, something we thought could never let us down, something we loved…. into a bastard. A lying bastard. A lying, cheating bastard that now has now decided that the company of Wham!, Johnny Mathis and The fucking Darkness is more preferable to just being with you. That song definitely said it was yours once, remember? It said it was yours and not for the thick that actually get happy when they hear Mary’s Boy Child.

In two weeks time, we will hate that song for letting us down so badly. And it hurts. So much. Battering it with it’s own golf clubs is too good for it but we will do it anyway. And that’s it for us and that record. We’ve given it chance after chance but no more. No matter how charming it might appear, we won’t fall for it again. Oh, it can try to woo us with it’s ” I regret those transgressions”, “I have not been true to my values” and it’s utterly baffling claim that it’s a professional “athlete” when it so obviously isn’t but we know that it’s all just words. Meaningless words that are meant simply to manipulate.

And it works. This time next year we will pretend that the hurt is something we can handle. We’ll even be happy to hear it again. I mean, it’s a great song. And, my God, it’s better than anything else around.

IT. USES. US. Remember that.

Please let me know if you think I’m taking this all too seriously.

By the way, last night’s gig in Reading was fine. In fact, it was kind of a classic Christmas gig. Some listened, some didn’t. Some laughed, some didn’t. But mainly, it was better than I expected. I left just as John Maloney started his set and was doing an excellent job and getting big laughs. I mean, who needs to stay and see that?

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Following his highly successful turn on shooting stars in the 1^st part of a three part interview Angelos Epithemiou sits down with his friend and mentor Bob Mortimer to dicuss where he’s come from and where he’s going.

Angelos Epithemiou: Right – what is it? You want me to ask you the question, or what? Eh?

Harry Deansway: (Laughs) Just an interview for The Fix Magazine, so its quite conversational, and have a chat about…

Bob Mortimer: It’s a magazine, Angelos - right? Do you know, like, comedians like – who do you like? Name us some comics you like. Who d’you like – Brian Connolly (sic)?

Angelos Epithemiou: I like the Desmond’s and stuff-

Bob Mortimer: You like The Desmond’s?

Angelos Epithemiou: - Bread, Goodnight Sweetheart, all that stuff.

Bob Mortimer: Well, he does a magazine about some of the newer comics.

Angelos Epithemiou: Right…like, what?

Harry Deansway: Um…dunno - Pappy’s Fun Club?

Angelos Epithemiou: Aw, do me a favour…oh right, it’s one o’them…

Bob Mortimer: Well you know, like Harry Hill?

Angelos Epithemiou: Yeah…no, all babyish. Listen…

Harry Deansway: Well, I said, if you could prepare some questions-

Bob Mortimer: Aw, you got questions, Angelos?

Angelos Epithemiou: Seven of them.

Harry Deansway: I’ve got a few as well, if you run out.

Angelos Epithemiou: I won’t run out, right?

Bob Mortimer: Are you doing them now then?

Angelos Epithemiou: I don’t know, I don’t know…

Bob Mortimer: Do you think people are addicted to Diet Coke?

Angelos Epithemiou: Yeah, well, it’s all the sugar, innit?

Bob Mortimer: But there’s less sugar in it. Than in a normal-

Angelos Epithemiou: I know. And that’s what drives me mad. I think I know the answer.

Bob Mortimer: And you don’t!

Angelos Epithemiou: …and I don’t know the answer.

Bob Mortimer: But you don’t dwell on it, do ya?

Angelos Epithemiou: Nooo! No, it doesn’t keep me awake at night, at all! The big stuff does.

Bob Mortimer: What’s the ‘big stuff’, like?

Angelos Epithemiou: Like, all the…all the big stuff, you know, like, like…

Bob Mortimer: Like war and that? War’s pretty big, innit?

Angelos Epithemiou: …like transport problems, and the environment, and all that stuff. Yeah.

Bob Mortimer: Transport? What’s the problem with transport?

Angelos Epithemiou: Well, it’s all over the place. But with, like, the environment, and stuff, you know… Well, I don’t know, but d’you know that the sun is getting closer to the earth, by, about twenty feet a year? Did you know that?

Bob Mortimer: I didn’t know that.

Angelos Epithemiou: ‘Course you don’t know that, because you don’t know my mate Malcolm. And he told me that - he’s always on the Googles, he says. He told me like, last year he told me, like, who was going to win X Factor, like, a long time before it was finished. So now I think, “Oh, he knows what he’s on about.” Yeah.

Bob Mortimer: So, twenty foot a year?

Angelos Epithemiou: Yeah! Yeah.

Bob Mortimer: Do you have any posters up about this? Maybe you could inform peop – No, but you know what I mean? People come to your place, don’t they? You could put some up, saying, “Do you give a toss or not?”

Angelos Epithemiou: No, I should do that! I should let people know, but I think it’s better…like, ”Words of mouth”. It’s better to tell people. Because, if, you know… people don’t listen to this shit. Because it’s boring!

Bob Mortimer: It is boring, yeah. You could maybe make it…

Angelos Epithemiou: …more exciting? Well, what I say, right, is, if you - ’cause of all this problem - if you’re a pilot, or if you live up a tall building… you’re gonna get it first. So, you know, either change your job, or lie on the floor.

Bob Mortimer: So what would your poster say? “Change…”

Angelos Epithemiou: “Change your job-”
TOGETHER “- or lie on the floor.”

Bob Mortimer: Yeah.

Angelos Epithemiou: “If you’re a pilot, or you live up a tall building”.

Bob Mortimer: That’s very specific advice, you know. Do you think you get a lot of pilots…?

Angelos Epithemiou: It’s just where I start!

Bob Mortimer: D’you get a lot of pilots down at the shop? The burger…?

Angelos Epithemiou: Well, yeah! I mean, you know! You don’t know who you’ve got there. It could be - I don’t ask no questions, they don’t talk to me, really.

Harry Deansway: Where is your van, Angelos?

Bob Mortimer: Never you mind about that. No, I don’t tell no-one ’cause, right, I get all the kids and the joyriders coming around, trying to… and someone’s had a go at the generator – again – and I just think, “Just better not to tell anyone where it is”. You can see how that would affect sales.

Bob Mortimer: This since you’ve been on Shooting Stars?

Angelos Epithemiou: No, before I was on Shooting Stars. I was targeted.

Bob Mortimer: Wh-why…? Why in the living fuck would anyone target your burger van?

Angelos Epithemiou: I don’t know. I don’t know why they would do it.

Bob Mortimer: Do y’know, I can think of some reasons why they would do it. This is word of mouth they been getting, words from mouth. People saying, “That bloke’s a pervert”…

Bob Mortimer: You know, I’m not saying you’re a pervert, but if kids are bothering yer, and interfering with yer gennies (sic), because parents are saying, “Keep away from him, he’s done summat bad”. Or summat.

Angelos Epithemiou: Well that’s the one theory that the police have talked to me about.

Bob Mortimer: (laughs) I don’t believe that!

Angelos Epithemiou: No! It’s not true.

Bob Mortimer: ‘Cause I know you’re a ladies’ man.

Angelos Epithemiou: Exactly. I am a big ladies’ man. But, you know, I don’t think that’s the true case, because, you know… I think it’s blokes what’s doing it, you know, blokes what’s coming round - nicking it, really - to go on the building sites and stuff. In fact, I think it’s my brother who’s been nicking it. He’s a jealous man-

Bob Mortimer: What’s he jealous of?

Angelos Epithemiou: I dunno.

Bob Mortimer: Well it’s summat specific to you, I’d have thought…

Angelos Epithemiou: Yeah, I’d've thought so.

Bob Mortimer: (corpses) It must be summat specific – not general. Summat…

Angelos Epithemiou: Well, no, he’s a monster, my brother. Because, he’s like… (hushed tone) he got a problem with the drugs.

Bob Mortimer: Yeah…

Angelos Epithemiou: (still hushed) And the drugs make him, like, angry and… terrifying. Horrible. Aggressive, and racist, and all these things, you know. And I say, you know, me mum says, you know, “He’s not… he’s like that normally”, that’s what she says. And I say “No, it’s be’cause he’s on the drugs – he’s addicted to paracetamol”, he’s always taking them…

Bob Mortimer: Isn’t that ’cause of his club foot?

Angelos Epithemiou: (raises tone) Yeah. It is – it is ’cause of the pain that causes him, and that gives him a headache, so he has to take the paracetamol.

Harry Deansway: How did you get into catering?

Angelos Epithemiou: Just turned up. Just got on with it, y’know. My dad, he had a kebab shop called Heaven On A Stick, and I was like looking at that, thinking, “Yeah, yeah, I like the look of this, I can do this”, you know… I’ve explained all this, I’ve been through it. This fella, I was walking down the road, and this fella, I saw this van, this burger van. And I went up to this fella and said, “I like the look of this van,” you know, “your van”. And he said (mysterious voice) “Well, I’m going to give it to you.” And I said “Oh, that’s very kind of you, very kind!” And he said (mysterious voice) “But you must give me something in return,” you know. And I said “Oh… what is that?” Then he said “Fifteen hundred quid.” You know, so I bought it off him really, so I’ve set it up in there, with the toaster and all that, and… I didn’t know what I was doing. And then I just got started! I reckon I’ve turned over, er, about three or four hundred quid, now, in four years. Which isn’t bad.

Bob Mortimer: Have you ever had any staff, Angelos?

Angelos Epithemiou: No no, couldn’t care less! Couldn’t care less about them. Because I had to graft, and I’ve done very well for myself. And they need to do the same. Mind you, someone did help me out, but I’m not prepared to do that for anyone else.

Bob Mortimer: Who helped you out?

Angelos Epithemiou: A fella.

Bob Mortimer: Yer fella?

Angelos Epithemiou: A fella.

Bob Mortimer: A fella.

Angelos Epithemiou: A fella, yeah.

Bob Mortimer: Tell us a bit more about it - if you so wish.

Angelos Epithemiou: I don’t know if I wanna go into it.

Bob Mortimer: It’s up to you. Talk around it you want – what was his name? What was his name?

Angelos Epithemiou: John.

Bob Mortimer: What did he do?

Angelos Epithemiou: He works in McDonald’s.

Bob Mortimer: He works in McDonald’s. Did he pay you for a service of any sort?

Angelos Epithemiou: No.

Bob Mortimer: Did you provide a service – unpaid - for him?

Angelos Epithemiou: No.

Bob Mortimer: If you were to thank him for what he did for you, how would you word that thank-you?

Angelos Epithemiou: I’d say: “John, thank you very much for letting me, sort of, hang around.”

Bob Mortimer: You picked up knowledge from John?

Angelos Epithemiou: Not really, no.

Bob Mortimer: But he definitely helped you in yer…?

Angelos Epithemiou: No, you know, I’m thinking about it now and I don’t think he did.

Bob Mortimer: John didn’t help? John was just a man.

Angelos Epithemiou: He’s just a fella.
Shooting Stars DVD is out now and you can see Angelos Epithemiou perform live here
Join us for part two next time where Angelos reveals how he got his big break and the truth behind his relatioship with Ulrikaaa

In lieu of any new live reviews, we thought we’d investigate what your favourite comics request backstage. In the end, we couldn’t be bothered, so we took an educated guess at what the UK’s biggest comedy stars demand on tour.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Michael McIntyre

-         Goose liver pate

-         Fruit juice

-         Crowd observation report slips (to be distributed prior to show and collected before audience depart)

-         A white wedding dress covered in red paint

 

Frankie Boyle

-         20 celebrity flashcards

-         20 profanity flashcards

-         20 computer monitors

-         20 stop watches

-         A specially constructed sound chamber to optimise shouting volume

 

Jerry Sadowitz

-         An assortment of scented bath salts and oils

 

Russell Howard

-         A grand piano full of chips. Random!

 

Jo Brand

-         Travel scrabble

-         Jumpers

-         Richard Littlejohn or local alternative

 

 

We are all of us daily surrounded by scum and decay, and it is sometimes all we can do as human beings to surround ourselves in our own thin bubble of moral certitude, normality, and a weekly shower. But that’s not to say we shouldn’t look outside these bubbles as tourists of degeneracy, to remind ourselves again why we’re in them in the first place. Sometimes we even have to step right outside that bubble, just to procure ourselves a service. In the first of what will now become Degenerate Tuesday, The Fix points out some places to avoid.

Helen

Internet Café and Organic Sandwich Bar, Hackney

This is a degenerate find of some serious value. The white truffle of degenerate ex-organic internet cafes. You don’t even need to go inside, such is the rich stench of degeneracy whafting from that sign. It had aspirations to trade organically. It realised its customers didn’t actually care, as long as there was a row of stained computers confiscated from local sex offenders and won at police auction, and an internet connection. Besides that, they can’t even read. The bottom line rules, and they don’t care who knows it. Forget getting a new sign, just cross the ‘organic’ part out. And forget doing it in a pen that you can’t actually see through. The Fix is the Indiana Jones of degenerate hunters, and this is our crystal skull.

Centrepoint Int’l Services Ltd., Hackney

This is a useful one-stop shop. The internet for checking your e-mail and finding out a distant relative has died in a plane crash in Nigeria, one of whose population is kind enough to have taken the trouble to track you down and let you know that you have inherited their life’s fortune. Money transfer to wire them the cash advance they need to unlock their account for you. And a cargo service to ship a box full of rocket launchers and machetes to them, in the case that you prefer to fund genocide in this more direct manner instead.

Do you know of any rogue traders deserving of the Degenerate Tuesday treatment? Let us know, send a photo, and let’s give them the publicity that no one with proper content to fill web pages with will.