In the words of George Harrison, “it’s been a long, long, long time.” But I’m back – with a new blog (this), a new haircut (resembles the Guggenheim) and a new podcast.
The raison d’etre of this post is to showcase (trans: archive) a comedy recording I made with a friend when we were 12, explain how over 30 years later I have emulated this process, and crucially how the two connect. But first a promo shot of the new podcast featuring the hero from my comic novel, Alan Stoob.
According to Buddha life is suffering. All well and good, but has the Big B ever cycled up Alpe D’Huez – or indeed Archway Road – in the blazing sunshine? No? Clearly then he is in no position to pronounce on this grave matter.
Last week I participated in the annual Prudential RideLondon cycle event.
I suffered as I’ve never suffered before.
This is my story.
*insert original score by John Williams*
Long time no weblog.
Some reflections on entering the world of the published writer – by Saul Wordsworth of Wordsworth Writing Ink (geddit?)
I am Alan Stoob.
Perhaps you knew this already.
Perhaps you didn’t.
Perhaps you’ve no idea what I’m talking about.
Alan Stoob is a website, a Twitter account, a book and (if the planets align) a film.
I have kept my name hidden for three years but on the eve of publication and with Stoob’s cover already blown I’m officially outing myself.
Alan is Britain’s Premier Nazi Hunter™.
This is the story of Alan.
Yesterday I spent two hours looking for a photograph of me with the aforementioned Princess. Couldn’t find it. That’s two hours I’ll never get back. Could have watched two and a bit Houses of Cards or run a marathon.
I did find this though. Favourite picture from my childhood.
But you’re here now, so I may as well tell the Princess Anne story.
*gets comfortable in Ronnie Corbett chair, adjusts glasses…*
In the summer Joan suggested a road trip in the USA. Joan herself doesn’t drive but that didn’t seem to bother her. And so it was that last month we flew to LA, picked up our mid-range Toyota and set off on what Douglas Adams might term the adventure of a liff-time.
Here’s a short video I made during our stop-off in Philadelphia.
Oh it’s YOU.
Hello and welcome to my weblog. Funny word, weblog. Dated. Looks like it’s from the 1950s. Let’s move on.
Close followers of 2008 internet sensation saulwordsworth.com will notice I haven’t blogged much of late. Some will be pleased to hear I’m about to remedy this to the tune of two blogs in one week, others less so. Either way it’s happening so get over yourselves already is it.
Today I’m here to relate my recent encounter with a madman.
Shit the bed and shag the cat, it’s been aeons since I last web-logged. Reasons for this include stuff, things, work, unwork and matters of a personal bearing. But I’m here now so stop shouting at me OK?
Am I a monster? I may be. Recently I committed an act that on the retell has shocked many of a gentle disposition i.e. members of my family. If you too are gently disposed, please read on and experience a small experimental heart attack.
Last month Bradley Wiggins became the first Briton to win the coveted ‘maillot jaune’ (yellow jersey) in the ‘Tour de France’ (the Tour of France). I was supposed to be there but through a combination of my own stupidity and impenetrable bureaucracy I was cruelly denied the opportunity.
This is my story.
Didn’t see you there.
Happy New Year! I hope 2012 brings you everything you ever dreamed of in terms of kitchen gadgetry.
I want to let you know about my recent experience of being beaten to death.