Comedy is a weird one. One minute you're performing to 12 people (8 of whom are comedians) in a room above a pub in Leicester Square with no microphone, no stage lights and a potted plant as a set piece and five years and a lot of miles later you can sell out your own show at The Lowry. Then, if you get super lucky, you get to do some TV.
A colleague suggested that the best starting point would be to use a free online service to prepare 'auto-detect' subtitles, which could then be proof-read and edited before being exported and attached to the new version of the movie for Amazon. This seemed like a damn good starting point. It worked! Well, it sort of worked.
I'm recently fallen victim to a profound, life-changing affliction; one that has shaken my being to its very core. It's one that affect millions of people every year and, due to its sensitive nature, is often not discussed. Well, I'm no longer prepared to be a silent victim. I recently ate some less-than-perfect chicken nuggets and subsequently, suffered a violent bout of The Squits.
Where does the female half of the species learn this unprecedented skill? Was there an open day or meeting I missed where there were a dozen prosthetic backsides all laid out in a row and covered with Nutella. I like to imagine a stern lady barking out wiping orders to an ensemble of new mothers all learning the skill that us Dad's envy.
As Valentine's Day is largely pointless, since flowers die, chocolate is bad for you and teddy bears are irritating items you'll eventually need to find hiding places for, perhaps it's time to update this tired tradition to make it more meaningful in the real world of the 21st Century. To get your creative juices flowing, here are a few suggestions designed to retain their lustre come Sunday morning...