Once again, I've fallen behind with my blog as I'm in the process of moving, soooooo here's an interview I did for Betty Brisk a little while back. Happy Sunday :)
Honestly, I don't know about you, but I'm so relieved Christmas is over. Literally, because the constant grazing plays havoc with my digestion. Are you nice and regular again yet?
Betty, I’m so regular people don’t call the speaking clock, they call me.
I expect you are still feeling a teensy weensy bit big-headed after winning Celebrity Mastermind, and who can blame you? Did you celebrate to the point of drunkenly leaving your trophy in a cab?
When you say cab, did you mean night bus? We keep it real right, Betty
I've always imagined that famous Mastermind armchair must be a bit damp, from all those contestants nervously sweating buckets onto it.
Oh sweat. That’s what that was.
So are you a bit of a clever clogs, that swotty girl in class who always put her hand up first? I was one of those, but I also smoked behind the bike sheds, which meant I didn't get beaten up.
Unfortunately, I was the swotty kid. Once I even asked if the class could have extra homework. I should have been beaten up for that.
I reckon you've got quite a healthy competitive streak. So go on then: you and a fellow shopper spot the same dress in the sales. Would you graciously say, 'No, you have it', or execute an underarm kidney punch followed by a stiletto heel in the foot?
She can have it. I don’t do sales. I tried it once in 2003. Horrible experience. Never again. I think women must spend all Christmas sharpening their elbows in anticipation of the January sales.
What about cheating? I think all's fair in board games, “enhancing” my CV, or pretending to have a title in order to get a restaurant table. Are you ever sneaky?
It’s like you’re trying to upset me. I abhor cheating. Ben Johnson should have got the chair!
But are you honest in other ways? If you kept a diary, would you confess in it if you'd been bad, or would it be a complete whitewash like mine?
I had a ritual burning of my confess-all diary when I left school. No one must know about the huge crush I had on my science teacher... d’oh.
You have to be damn quick-witted to be a stand-up, in fact you probably think in jokes. Does it ever get you into trouble? Tell us your worst foot-in-mouth moment.
There was a rather hirsute girl at my college and when I saw her walk into the common room I blurted out, “My God I saw a woman with the thickest moustache today!” Everyone else in the room had worked out my train of thought way before I had
It must be tempting to deliver a crushing put-down, even when it's not a heckler at a show, but a bus conductor telling you to move further along inside, please.
Are you kidding? I’m always the one doing that. I’m that annoying Guardian reading going “Move down please.This service is for everyone you know!” I annoy myself
When you started out you were working as a receptionist by day, and a stand up by night. Did you use your job as material for your act? Are there many laughs to be had behind reception?
Sadly no. Where I worked was pretty sensible. If only I’d been on reception at Fawlty Towers. I’d be talking to you from my Californian ranch.
When cab drivers find out what you do, I bet they say, 'ere, I've got a great joke!'. What's been the best. Or the worst?
I tell them I’m a goat herder. Less bother.
I did tell an estate agent what I did once and he asked “So what type of humour do you do? Is it racist or blue?”
I gather you like being lazy, when you get a chance. Does that involve not washing for days and wearing the same clothes, while eating fridge remains?
I think you’ve confused me with Frankie Cocozza
What do you find yourself watching on telly, when you're supposed to be knuckling down to some hard work?
The last thing I watch was a documentary about these poor women with this disease where they can’t stop wailing and shouting. It was very sad. I think the programme was called Eastenders or something. I’m now sponsoring one of them for £2 a month
At least you don't have to put up with your own Mr Brisk, while he lies around the place, cluttering it up and seeing if he can fart to the tune of whatever's on TV. Not that he doesn't have his uses, but isn't it great to be single? Or are you looking for a Mr Osho?
A Mr Osho? I may not have been keeping up with changes in the law but isn’t that illegal?
What, exactly, are you seeking in your Mr Right, then?
No time Betty. This year’s gonna be super busy so I’m putting all that on the back burner. I don’t need a bloke cluttering up the place
And will you demand that he provides the perfect orgasm? I think it's the least they can do, given how much work they create around the house.
You’re right. For me, the perfect orgasm would involve him running a hoover round and not retuning the radio from Heart to Talk Sport every morning!
You spent three years without a date, then you dated guys picked from your audience during gigs. What have been the highlights and lowlights of looking for love?
A women never discusses her love life.... but aren’t there a lot of shower types in the world... kidding. They were all lovely fellas but like an empty swan vesta box, no matches.
You've let slip on Twitter that I'm A Celeb Mark Wright rather tickles your fancy, or did you just ask for his calendar for research purposes?
Yeah, that’s right, I needed to research how fit he is! To be honest, I wouldn’t mind looking at him but I wouldn’t want to listen to him. Ours would be a silent relationship of him hoovering and not touching the radio
And what about Keith Chegwin? I see he follows you … could he be The One?
Even if him and the Loose Women were the last surviving humans, I’d take my chances with McGiffin.