Biffy Clyro at Ramfest 2014

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I think I have been to pretty much every festival in South Africa over the past few years.
Stand up comedy has fast cemented itself into the framework of the bigger music festivals.

Quite often we are doing the festivals for ulterior motives.  As in we the comics enjoy them too.  So why not at least get to go to the festival with a performers backstage pass and get paid for it too.

This weekend saw me performing at RAMFEST for the first time.  I will be honest. Of all the festivals I have been involved in, this was probably the first or maybe second one I would have done just to have seen the bands involved.

The stage provided for comedy was not exactly what we needed as comedians. But we made do with what we had (which was nothing) and stood in the burning sun and did some jokes.  It went rather well if truth be told.

I wasn’t too familiar with the Foals before Ramfest. But I did a bit of homework and I was more than surprised to see just how good they are as a live band.  I was almost worried that the Scottish band Biffy Clyro that was still to follow had quite a bit to live up to after the quality of the Foals performance.  But this wasn’t to be the case in the slightest.

To put it in perspective. We all have a band or two that we have listened to just that little bit more than others.  Over the past year or two in my travels. I found that they particularly suited my mood for walking around the many strange cities and what-not that I visited.

It is almost like they find just a few extra notes and melody in their music. It also has such a strange hypnotic drum pattern that I just adore it.

Anyway.  The hit the stage and I was more than excited.  The setting was pretty small and the size of the crowd more than suitable for the area. The sound was excellent and there were no big screens to divert your attention.  This show was just about the guys.

They rocked the shit out of RAMFEST. I felt like I had just watched one of the finest shows of my life.  Certainly the best thing I have ever had the chance to witness here in South Africa and more than any other festival to date.  The crowd knew the tunes. We sang along.

Biffy Clyro. You guys were beautiful.

Unavoidable, accidental douchery’

Im not famous.
Im not particularly successful
Im not bothered. 

Im not in the business to be fawned upon by strangers.
Ok, I kind of am, but its not why im doing it.

The bi-product of success in my industry is often fame.
Personally I get enough ego points just doing the job. The fun is in the moment.

I’ve done a number of things that will have shown me in some sort of public space that you may have seen before. You know. A shitty tv advert on in the background, a spot on this comedy show, “Come Dine With Me”. You know. Shit. Background shit.

 So when someone walks up to me and asks where they may know me from, it brings a deep sense of dread. Why? Well the chances are I will have to start rattling off my bloody CV, just to see if it sparks a bit of memory.  The resulting conversation normaly ends up with me feeling like a twat. A twat who has to cover the past ten years of work and achievements to  a total stranger.

“Hey, Where Do I know you from?”
Me: Hi. I don’t know.
“Nah man, I know you from somewhere”
me: “I do stand up comedy. Have you been to one of the shows?”
“nah, it’s not that me: “Maybe you have seen a commercial I have been in.”
“Was it Vodacom”
me: “No thats not me. Maybe it was “Come Dine With Me“
“Nah. Are you not Kevin’s friend with the canoe?”
me: “No”.
“Sorry I don’t know you.”

Then there is the confused person. They are convinced that they know you. They have SEEN YOU MAN. But it was at a festival and they were on mushrooms and black label. They are convinced you are the singer for a band that played in the afternoon at Splash Fenn or something.  “SING THAT SONG MAN, SING IT”

This is my life. It could be worse.

The only thing more embarrassing that all of this. Having a very pretty lady overhear this scenario almost word for word. Classy stuff Martin. Classy stuff. (Hides face in shame).

But that is another story.

So this is actually happening. Shitting myself now.

I havent’ posted a blog in quite a while.  Not since I posted some whining comment about how undervalued I feel in society.  Oh woe is me. 

I guess I was just feeling the nerves of going on this big adventure.  I arrived in the UK nearly three weeks ago. The plan being to get myself on some sort of adventure.  I knew I wanted to go to the States.  But I hadn’t worked out a plan.

I guess I still havent.

I am sitting in the airport right now. Waiting for my first of quite a few flights.  I will be going to Amsterdam this evening.  Spend the day walking around the museums and galleries. I spent a good bit of time over here 20 years ago when I finished school.  Im going to visit an old (she isn’t old) school friend in Rotterdam who is part of the team of architects working on the new airport.  

I fly into Los Angeles on Tuesday.  From there, I guess I dont realy have much of a plan.  I have rented a car.  In a cliched way, I think its a mustang convertible (for the first three days at least) then I will start to budget quite heavily and see how far my limited funds will carry me.

I wil be doing one thing that I must admit to being very excited about.  I have rented a brand new RV.  One of those big american things. I pick it up from the factory where it has been made.  It is brand new. Nobody has used it before. My job is to then get it to Las Vegas in nine days.  Should be a blast.  I havent a clue what kind of weather I can or will be able to expect.  It  could vary from fairly warm to freezing cold with blizzards.  im hoping not.  But it should see me driving across the country and visiting a lot of old friends.

This folks is my mid life crisis.

I cannot wait.

Three years today since I crashed that bloody scooter. Seems apt that I am leaving on an new adventure today.

Happy days people.  Happy days.

I am leaving Cape Town later today. Fly up to Johannesburg where I will do three nights at the Pop Art, before flying to London on Monday.

Been trying to do a bit of homework and see where I can go, what I can catch, what comedy etc will I see.  I have a few acts that I want to see for personal reasons.  Acts that I feel encapsualte comedy better than most others do.

I am a huge fan of Marc Maron.  If you do not know who he is, you need to get on youtube and catch a clip or two of his stand up. Then.  Then you go and start listening to his podcast. He has some wise words this man.  The Vancouver Comedy and Arts Festival is running February 7-17.  Im looking to get out in time to catch a good few of the performances.  

This is basically an “open letter” to you all, pleading for your support.

I see a lot of these “open letters” out there these days. I often wonder what the purpose of them are. I think the time has come for me to try it. Why now? Because frankly this is all becoming unsustainable.

I am going to break down my career for you. This is by no means a boast. This is an honest example of what it is like to be a me. Im not suggesting I represent an industry. Perhaps I am just an self obsessed narsassit who should have read the financials long ago and walked away from this. But no. This is me. Im pretty much broke. Sure I have saved here and there and tried to spend wisely. But I am not a rich man.

I have put in some extra effort over the past year. You might say that it was due to a painful and messy breakup with my fiancée’. You might also say it was the chance for me to be myself again for the first time in a while. My one man show did well at the National Arts Festival in 2011. It won an award. I was chuffed. By winning an award, I do not want you to have a skewed perception of my attendance. I had none. Literally. A venue that holds 220 people and six have booked. Its soul destroying. I came back with Pants on Fire with Rob Van Vuuren the following year. We win another award. Since the festival, we have performed the show a few times at various venues. We too have to fight for attendance. We made so little money after last years show you wouldn’t believe us. Bills. Mother-fucking bills. Putting on a show there was extortionate.

Here is the crux. Perhaps this is my own problem to deal with. I don’t need to get all deep and philosophical here, but I really, and I mean really love comedy. Im not talking about having a giggle and recalling a joke. Im talking about a life where my artistic focus and energy comes from standing on a stage. You might think this sounds needy. (It is) But this is me. Bare naked Martin. I would go through life feeling content and fulfilled just living as I am. Comedy is my life.(style)

I have material.I have a few jokes. Sure. I have tons of jokes that frankly I have used for way too long. Every comic has. Each time I approach the stage, I have never ever got an idea of what I am going to do or say. I have places I can go to that I know I have, but for me, and I can only speak for me. The stage is a concious flow of my thoughts. Im unarmed and unashamed and fully coherent. The energy of a crowd, the way you can shock or titillate them just goes further than any other rush I can get. Its not a drug. Its not ego trip, its got nothing to do with my ego. It has everything to do with the energy of spreading laughter. I have no religious belief in a God, im not suggesting we do not have souls and spirits though. Laughter to me is a place where we can address ideas and issues with people lighting up, not being forced or told. (Bad comedy exists too, yes I know)

The purpose of what I am doing in my life. What are any of us doing? Please don’t tell me that my mere existence is just to earn as much as possible till retirement, then haemorrhage back into the world at an old age with medical bills and taxes. Folks I am not making much money. Im not asking for a charity handout, but I need people to know what is happening in this industry.

I think this needs a touch of perspective here. Without sounding like a douche, I challenge anyone to go out and do exactly what I do on stage. Do it. Replicate it. Give that time and effort a value. What do you think I am making every time I step on stage? I think I should tell you.

I came here in 2007. Gigs then paid about 40% more than they do today.

That is correct. We are paid on average, mostly under a thousand rand a comedy gig. Now considering that there are only so many gigs in the country, so many gigs in the month, so many comedians to get through, you can see the picture here. Frankly there isn’t enough work. So what you say.

Well.

This brings us to now a business side to the comedy industry. Its not enough that you just want to get on stage and make people laugh for a living. No. This is silly. What you really want to do is go out there and become a successful corporate comedian. What is that you ask? Im not the man to tell you. I am not a corporate comedian. It isn’t entirely through my own choosing. Its more a question of the wrong man for the wrong job. I suck at it. Like really suck at it. To me, (and this is just old me talking) comedy has less to do with Corporate work that just about anything. Its like finding out you have super powers like Spiderman. Then thinking. Right, i’m going to use these powers for evil. (Mwhahahahaa cracks knuckles, flicks cape over should and drives off in fancy german sports car.)

So again. What is your point Martin.

I am not a corporate comic. A corporate comic has the ability to churn out the funnies for a varied audience of business folks. I have been to several of these events and honestly I cannot recall a single time I have ever enjoyed it. It may just be me, perhaps I can best describe it like this. It’s like arriving at someone else’s Matric dance at their school without them, because they dumped you before going in. It is that lonely. It is that far removed from what I do. It is not a place I feel comfortable.

Why should this job that brings such elation then have to become possibly the saddest thing in the world. The answer is simple. It is money. So instead of making a grand at a gig (Not in Cape Tow they wont!!) they get the chance to make maybe 15-25k instead. Are they worth that? Honestly? Well. Its your money… you chose whatever you want. But telling me that there are acts who thing they are worth 40k plus is ludicrous. The balance of value in the industry is so skewed towards the money that the heart, soul and integrity of this industry are threatened. Our comics are mostly shit. Why? Because they are lazy gravy fed leeches who have no need to be artists. Artist’s do not drive sports cars.

I say money, but the real word should be greed. Greed is a drug that has done more damage to South African comedy than cocaine has ever come close to. Some local comics are high on the need to control an industry. This I remind you is not an industry. Its an art. You cannot own painting. Why try own humour?

It all the time I have been doing comedy here. I have never felt any solidarity between the acts. I have some very close friends in the business, but I imagine behind closed doors, there is very little talk of me that has been done in the positive. Sure. I am a shit stirrer. But who gives a monkeys. I have had next to no referral work from any local comics. Nobody has gone out of their way to include me in shows or television work or anything of that ilk. I am not bitter. I am being open.

The list of big promoters, the guys who swallow up every possible corporate rand that can be raped and stolen from this industry is long. Many have seen a financial opportunity to take big money from big banks, big fast food companies, wine farms, you fucking name it. It leaches the industry to the point where they walk away with massive massive paychecks. Im not talking “pay your electricity bill” kind of money. Im talking “buying shares in Eskom” kind of money. What do we get as performers? Well I cannot tell you. I haven’t been booked on any of these shows since I have been back.

Does this sound bitter? I think it is starting to turn a little bleak. So let me add some sunshine and flying ponies to the story. Brighten It up a little..

My name is Martin Evans. I live in Cape Town. I have a cool job. I make people laugh for a living. Everything I own comes (well mostly) from making people happy. My job is to make people happy. I get paid for this. Not a lot. But enough to eat and drink and buy the occasional bag of cheese. I get to travel across South Africa. In the past six months, I have been back and forth between Johannesburg and Cape Town over 12 times. I have covered thousands of kilometers in my bakkie (sorry folks, the van is parked outside my flat) back and forth between gigs in Durban and PE umpteen times recently. I have been as busy as I have ever been. I have had a really good year in comedy. I am now working regularly around the country and love it. Although I have run out of venues to perform at. So its a case of returning to the same gigs over and over.

I have in the past made my income from doing some acting jobs for commercials. Its easy money for easy work that is fun. I have done about 20 odd commercials worldwide over the years. Last year I had my record season. I was in seven commercials. Some of them were really quite big jobs. Covering territory’s like the whole of South America. Then time goes by and they end up not using the commercial at all. This happened on three jobs last year. It was a total waste. Frankly a disaster. I had wasted a whole season on pretty much nothing. What upset me more was how much I had to sacrifice my comedy to do it all. To do the season means you are committed to being in Cape Town for pretty much the whole summer whilst you attend castings and call backs. You can go a whole season and land nothing. So with that in mind I thought to myself, Sod it. I am not doing this anymore. Well not for now at least. I need to make more focus on the comedy.

But how?

Its not like I haven’t been trying. Here in lies the problem. I have really been trying. Trying to avoid the corporate work, trying to avoid putting anything on film, basically I have been trying. I was recently on an episode of “Come Dine With Me” I had no idea or expectation of what that would lead to. What did it lead to, you ask? Nothing. That is the answer. Perhaps the perception that I am possibly homeless, but not much more than that. I was recorded on film. Finally I have some work on television doing stand up on Comedy Central. But it wasn’t a good gig. I didn’t like it at all. So much so that I cannot bring myself to watch the show. I refuse to watch it. It obviously wasn’t good or I would have heard feedback. So what I choose to do is just ignore it. Not having DSTV makes it easy to avoid.

I have really been trying to just be a comedian. Not an actor, not a corporate performer. Just a comedian. My one man show was as pure an example as I could have of being “just me”.

It got the best reviews I could have hoped for. People were very complimentary about it. It was an exhilarating thing to do. To stand there. No mic, no props, just a story and an audience. It was lovely. But it was an expensive thing to do. The cost of the venue, and posters etc made every ticket sold a chip away at just the costs. People just didnt come in large enough numbers to make it worthwhile.

The show wins awards, gets reviews from heaven and yet has takings that a busker would be embarrassed with.

So is it me. Am I just some ego fuelled twat with a narcissistic agenda of doing whatever he pleases. Maybe. Fuck. Am I? Fortunately this job brings you down to earth on a regular basis. The thrill of a great gig is easy to forget when the attendance at your one man show is so poor.

Im waffling away here. The whole purpose of this was to be an “Open letter to the people of South Africa” I was asking for some support.

Im not asking for cash. Not money. Im not a beggar. Im an artist. A performer, a story teller.

If I won awards as a plumber you would pay me huge sums of money.

But my awards as an artist and just the reason to ignore me

When you in town again?

Oh please let us know.

What time is the show?

When are you on?

How do I get there?

We will come tomorrow

Sorry I forgot

Folks. It is this simple. Im not using this as a threat. Im using this as a plea! Im asking you. In large numbers. People who do not go to comedy shows. You. Yes you. Exactly you. The person reading this. You. You are important. It is you that chooses what to watch. Im asking you, to please buy tickets for my show.

It will cost you a little bit more than going to the cinema to see my show. (not if you have popcorn and a soda) By doing so, you will be enabling a person to live. To earn his living doing his job proudly. I just want to write and perform. But it seems that the mentality of South African audiences are someone biased towards regionalism and conformity.

Which brings me to a good old fashioned beef. The lack of support. The number of gigs I have done where people said afterwards, Oh I will watch it the next time you are here. Next time? There is a point where there will be no more next time. It is not financially viable to travel about and not sell tickets.

I worked as a freelance dj recently for a station in the Western Cape. I will omit their name for legal reasons. They gave me 100% anti-help with my show. Not one single bit of assistance towards it. Nothing. I asked them for interviews and some support. Nothing. Not one of them came to watch it, not one of them mentioned it. Nothing. That is the kind of support I came to expect from them. Now is this me being sour, or is this because I am not married to one of the managers or the station or something? Why do some comics get all the help and the others nothing?

Maybe it was the name of the show? Maybe it was the agenda of the station, Maybe it was just a case of “couldnt give a toss”.

If a radio station, I as a stand up comedian works at, cannot have the time to give me a little career boost with their massive audience, then who can? Its time I lead the way and did my own thing SA.

Im going away for a few months. To write. To think, to relax and to try and come to terms with what is happening. I am not quitting. This isn’t a job. This is my life. If my life means me moving to where it is sustainable and appreciated. Then that is where I will go. I will go somewhere where my skill-set or talent (whatever that is) will be of use. Where I can earn an income doing just stand up. Not having to troll about in commercials or corporate jobs. Not to have to cast for film roles that suck dick but at least pay rent money, to not have to worry about my worth. Im quite confident in who I am. Im just not confident I am in the right place.

Essentially I need some appreciation. Something more than a good review and a “well done”

I need people to attend my shows. That is all.

Im coming to Johannesburg to do my solo show this week. Ticket sales are non existent. Lots of people ask me when Im performing. Nobody comes. This is my last gig. Im now bowing out like the Parlotones. Nobody could drag out going overseas more than they have.. But then they are only leaving as they have bled this country dry of money. I am however, near enough skint.

I need people to come to my show this Thursday, Friday and Saturday.
I am performing at the lovely Pop Art venue on Arts on Main. It isn’t a big room. But it needs support. I need the support. I need people to book. Are there not 300 in Johannesburg that want to watch me? Can I not get that level of support from a city of that magnitude. I believe I can.

If people do not book, then I don’t know what the answer is. Where do I go from here. Do I give up? Do I find another way. Really. I need your help.

The show is good. It just needs an audience.

Please support my show. It is supporting more than just my ego.

Thank you.
Martin

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New year, new show, new ideas, new loves, new desires, new directions Old Martin revived.

Every year around this time I get the same sensation of panic.  It is that feeling that suggests that you have not prepared.  You aren’t ready. You have missed out.  

The reason is simple. The National Arts Festival does its bookings for the upcoming year fairly early. So whilst they are asking me what the name of my new show is called, I havent’ even got the memory of what the previous one was.

I need to write a new show. I don’t want to make it sound like this is forced labour, but I have a tendency to get distracted.  To wander off without actually ever getting anything done.  Every single thing I have done in my life, from career to relationships has been based on acting impulsively.  As much as it works some of the time, I have made way too many errors of judgement in the past.  I need to focus, I need to be alone, I need to feel motivated.

I havent been overseas in a while. I came to Cape Town at the end of 2006 with my then girlfriend from the UK.  Six months was the plan, but that was quickly ignored as I settled into a happy place and a happy time.  I really do like living in Cape Town. It is a City that I would class as properly special to me.  Im not into the mumbo-jumbo of energy and ley lines etc.  But there is something here that draws people to this place.

Sadly for me, I have hit a bit of a speed bump in my aspirations.  I have been on the road continually since June 2012 and I am feeling a bit burned out.  I have a new flat in Cape Town that I need to refurbish and sort, but outside of that, I am feeling a distance from Cape Town for the first time.  Not a distance I think will last, but its like a kick of motivation,  a kick that suggests movement.

 

Ive packed my bags. Im going to London on the 21st Jan for a few days.  A bit of sightseeing with friends and family, before going off to the States and Canada.  Im not sure how or when as yet.  Ticket prices seem to vary day to day, so Im looking for the best deal at the best time.

The plan is simple.  Travel down (or Up) from Vancouver to Los Angeles at least.  I want to watch some comedy on the way, see some nature and possibly get laid.  Yeah why not.

Im not sure how im doing it just yet. Whether I buy a train pass, or  rent a car or whatnot…

Just to say that I plan to use my time wisely. From meeting new people, to spending a lot of time on my own.  Yeah I will get lonely. But Im not worried about being alone.  This is my chance to write. This is my chance to find a new story.  A new chapter.

And make everything relevant and fun again.

Chat soon.

Martin

#FBPK in Joburg. @POPArtJHB 17,18,19 January. My last shows before I leave for a bit.

 

 

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Hello folks.

I haven’t taken my show to Johannesburg as yet.  But this all changes next week.

Please come and join me for some of the final perfomances of #FBPK “Full Body Poes Klap”, before I head over overseas and write a new show.  I have included a bit of the press for it from a few of the reviews etc recently.  Bookings can be made at http://www.popart.co.za
The show is taking place on the 17, 18, 19 January at the Arts on Main complex.  You can book tickets via the website.  Tickets are R85 at the door, R75 pre-booked and R60 for students with valid ID.

I look forward to seeing you there.  Right afterwards I am leaving for England, then off to Vancouver and LA.   Super excited.

 

thanks guys

Martin

 

The Rob Van Vuuren Blog

Dear Jacob
How’s it hanging?
Im guessing rarely.
I hope that’s not too forward. Calling you Jacob. It’s just, I feel like you get me.

It’s like I know you’ve got my back you know?
Anyways, I need your help.
I don’t know what to do. I heard what you said about black people trying to be like white people by having dogs as pets and how that’s not cool and I’m worried man.
You see my daughter is black, or kind of light black I guess. Or a very dark white. I don’t know, something like that, its hard for me to figure out in this post-colonial maze of classification. I guess according to the old school Apartheid classification you seem so fond of she’s kind of a browny coloured coloured. I prefer to think of her as golden brown but that’s neither here nor there. What’s important is…

View original post 376 more words

My experience on Come Dine With Me SA Episode 6

So last night episode six of “Come Dine With Me” aired here in South Africa.
A local version of the hit show on BBC Entertainment.

Guess who was one of the contestants?
A few months ago I filled out an application for what I thought was Masterchef.

My bad. Turns out I had applied for “Come Dine with Me” Mistake number one?

I got through a few rounds with the producers and thought…Why not. This could be fun.

I suggested we use my Motorhome instead of my flat in Vredehoek and this was met with much joy.. This was my second mistake. I just sold my house in Shittyfontein and was back at the flat in Vredehoek. I had furniture and shit everywhere. So no chance were we doing it at my place.

Cooking in the van was like trying to make dinner on a Submarine for a bunch of farty nazi’s. There was no space. I could hardly breathe, and the wind kept blowing the stove out and I thought I was going to end up blowing the poor girl up. Can you smell gas? Shit shit shit. Long story cut short. My food was shit. It really was. By shit I mean burned, foul, unappetising and mostly what appeared to be worm filled. That is correct. There was a worm in my Salmon starter. First of all the Salmon was pan fried beautifully. There was no worm from my side. Yes good people. It was sabotage. Full on match fixing skullduggery. 

Can I just say first of all, how proud I am right now of my Yorkshire puddings. They were the size of FIFA approved footballs. I will cook the meal again at home and ask friends their opinion. Previous trials had proved a total success. That meal works. It just needs to be done in a kitchen.

There was a man on the show with me. I say man. He was anthropomorphically more a mix between a sea dwelling walrus and something that was found on Star Wars. Jabba the Hut I believe is what I called him. This obese muppet with a breathing condition put an actual worm in my starter. Ja. I was trying to act calm on camera, but in later interviews I got quite bloody angry with the man. He was a twat out to get his 15 minutes of fame. Frankly he got it. But like the kak kind of fame. I couldn’t imagine what it must be like to walk around the supermarkets etc, whilst everyone is sneering at you like a walrus with a learning condition. This is the first person I have ever met who snored while he was awake.

I have never hit a man. I wouldn’t have either. Many hundreds of tweets came through from folks saying that they would have belted him one. I wasn’t going to use violence. I am not that kind of man. I would have liked to have shot him with a paintball gun on his fat ass till welts stopped him taking a shit with any sense of comfort. I hope school kids smash eggs on his windshield daily and rub a mix of vaseline and sand into it.

A Cheat! A Vagabond! A douche’! You sir made a twat of yourself.
His name will be forever remembered as a cheat. Enjoy your 15 minutes. 

Poor Tamryn. I have nothing more to say here. She must appear as if she was a stooge. A plant. Surely she was paid money or something to cock her night up as she did. She wasn’t drunk. She appeared spiked. Like she administered her own Rohypnol.

Sadly it wasn’t Varsity RAG Week or a night at Tiger Tiger.

I did drink a fair bit too. But I am 37 and a most probably a functioning alcoholic. So it wasn’t really going to be an issue. Things got way way waaaaay worse behind the scenes. The film crew had to lock up her flat for her. I salute you Tamryn. You looked at this and just said “Fuck it. Im young and going to enjoy it” Good luck.

The lovely Debbie. Aah. I just couldn’t take that worm situation without a fight. I wanted Debbie to win anyway. Well I wanted to win, but my night was more dysfunctional than an ANC Youth League Whisky tasting social. She could have served me a fried egg and she would have won. Myself and Debbie had an alliance. An alliance based on her mostly wanting to pomp me I think. But I like Debbie. She was properly honest. Nothing to hide. The alter ego was a bit on the creepy side. But there was a shit ton of alcohol going on. So you must know. Myself and Captain Asthma were properly fighting by this stage. Then “Missy Prissy Mc Hotpants” started chirping in. When she commented that I wasn’t funny and how could I be a comedian, my response was simple. “She wasn’t intelligent, how could she be a teacher.”

After that, there were stages where Tamryn and I were put in separate areas as she wanted to throw her glass of wine over me. Ha. Thank God for sound engineers and their fear of a mic getting damaged. That put paid to her 1940’s movie style put down she had for me. I made her cry. I felt bad. But she said the exact same thing to me in her initial insult. So, yeah. No apologies. Take it. You dealt it.

Martin 1-0 Tamryn

But since. Ooh. We have made up. Not in a hanky panky kind of way. Tamryn came to see me perform at Rocking the Daisies and in my show with Rob Van Vuuren and she was very complimentary. So. See. Friends can also sort of fight. I have told her several times that I am not interested in having an affair. She seemed ok with this news.

At no point in the procedure was I ever forced to motorboat Debbie. Im not saying she wasn’t keen. But I think she had another idea for smuggling a worm somewhere.

For the record. I am not homeless. Thank you for the concern. I have a flat in Vredehoek that I have just purchased. Granted it is as small as my bloody van. It is being gutted and I get to move in January. My current work load has seen me travelling non stop since June. I am back in Cape Town over November with a run of my solo show

“Martin Evans and the Full Body Poes Klap”

Yes it is a cheeky name, It also goes by the name “FBPK” for those who kak a bit at the vulgarity of it all. But frankly. I have ceased to give a fuck. I won the “Standard Bank Ovation Award” for this show in 2011 at the National Arts Festival, and this is my first proper run of it since then. I am performing at the Kalk Bay Theatre from the 7th till the 25th of November.

On Monday nights I will also be doing a run of “Pants on Fire” the variety whatthefucktocallit show that we love doing. Tiny tiny room for a very intimate show. So its busy busy. Moving up to Joburg for a run at the end of December doing Parkers New Years Show. I will also be touring my solo show to Port Elizabeth on the 21 and 22 December. Just awaiting venue confirmation.

Come Dine was fun. Enter it at your own risk. Cook what you can, expect the production of it to make normal cooking border line impossible. Expect to make a friend and or enemy or two.

Twitter went mental last night. Trending topics, nasty tweets, harsh comments.

What a magical joy it was.

Follow us on twitter if you want.
Im at @hellpants

Debbie @debbiejustdoes

Tamryn @bieberstruckRSA 

Hebrew @fatwalrusmanwhocheatedandlookslikeadoos

 

I just found this little video of Rustum. Thought I would share it.

Rustum August was a lovely man.  Sadly he passed away a week ago after a short battle with cancer.

The comedy industry is pretty cut up over this. He has a special place in our hearts and minds. We miss you Rustum.  I found this little video of the guys playing Gravelocity.  Here he is giving Kurt and Gino a lesson in how to play.  

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JYuhlBOli7Y

 

Catch “Pants On Fire” at the Klein Libertas Theatre 25 August

Come catch Rob Van Vuuren and me as we do our first performance of “Pants on Fire” since our Standard Bank Ovation Award Winning run at the National Arts Festival. We havent confirmed our line up yet. But it will be stellar. The Rugby will be shown on the big screen after the show. 25 August is the date. Get hold of the good people at the to reserve your tables now.

I found Pierre De Chamoy. Not that he was lost or anything.

Back when Rob and I started doing the #DrivetimeRobbery, I had this one South African singer songwriter in my head that I couldn’t shake from the early 80’s.  I was only a lightie in those days, but I rememberred a long haired bearded man singing. What he sang I didn’t know.  I also only recalled a bit of his name.  Pierre.  Pierre de Shampoo or something.  It took investigation and a good few chats with friends to spark a recall in this lost name of South African music.

 

Time passed by. Google searches were not helping. Then It came to me in a vision. Pierre de Chamois.  De Shamwari. Something.  But no.  I had come no closer to solving the riddle.  Then I found him.

It is Pierre DE CHARMOY

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Sometimes. Just sometimes I think people don’t get me.

RANTS WITH PANTS

I cannot even remember when Pumpkin Patch ran from.  Sometime from the mid 80’s till god knows when.

It had a catchy wee tune and was shown at a time in the country when there was no other channels…no other choice.

Pumpkin Patch, ho ho ho, Pumpkin Patch
Let’s all go to Pumpkin Patch (woof-woof)
Pumpkin Patch, ho ho ho, Pumpkin Patch
everyday we plaaaaaaaaaay
in pumpkin paaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaatch

Freckles and Speckles will sing a little song
Woofles goes woof-woof-woof and sings along…

Pumpkins are tasty and very good to eat ha…
Pumpkin pie is such a treat!!
Pumpkin Patch ..ho ho ho … pumpkin patch!!

I watched a clip of it the other day on youtube and was quite shocked at the show.

Here was a kids program that seemed to defy the then governments attitude to so many things in South Africa.

If you were to do a wee…

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