Thursday, May 17, 2007

Line From My New Radio Series: Show 1

My new radio series starts on Tuesday 5th June (Radio 4, 6.30pm) so I thought I'd put up some of the lines from the first recording as a taster.

Better still let's turn this into a competition: Some of the lines are in the show, some got dropped because they didn't get a big enough laugh on the night, and some we were told by the lawyers, "You're not allowed to say that, take it out or we'll be sued!"

Whoever gets the most right gets free tickets to either my Edinburgh show (August 2007) or one of the tour dates (September to December 2007)

Competition ends: Monday 4th June

* * * * *
Ladies and Gentlemen, it’s time to run yourself a nice hot bath, plug in the radio, then drop it in the water beside you – because she’s back, yes It’s that Jo Caulfield again.

Hello and welcome to the new series. Or as we’re calling it – “Third time lucky”.

So here we are 6.30 on a Wednesday night. This is a fantasy come true for me - sandwiched between Brian Perkins and Tom Archer.

And its great to be back at the BBC. Honesty they treat me like a superhero. Well, I have to
change in a phone box.

* * * * *
I realised that me and my husband Stuart, we never go out. You’re lucky I’ve turned up tonight. When we first got together we went out all the time. I was like the Lindsay Lohan of Wood Green. But with knickers.

We’d go to the cinema, restaurants, concerts, nightclubs. We once ended up at the opening of an Art Gallery and I was completely out of place. Because I know as much about art as Leslie Grantham knows about internet security.

* * * * *

Let’s see what’s happening in Wood Green this week.

There’s an anti Congestion Charge meeting at the library … I’d go to that … but it’s always such a bugger to park.

There’s a karaoke night on at the Joiners Arms. I’ll give that one a miss. If I want to hear a bunch of chavs off the estate murdering a classic song I’d put on a Girls Aloud CD.

There’s a Clairvoyant Night on at the Town Hall … then again if I wanted to waste my time trying to contact the dead I’d join the Conservative Club.

* * * * *

My husband suggested going bowling. But I can’t stand those places. All that deep rumbling, the crashing of wood and the crappy music, it must be like living in Basra – well either that or next door to Heather McCartney.

And you have to hand in your shoes first - hardly a fair swap is it? My nice pair of Prada loafers for a pair of red and blue clown shoes! And then when you give them back they make a point of spraying them with air freshener – how much of an insult is that? They’ve probably had more people in them than Abi Titmuss.

* * * * *

I like going to the cinema but it’s difficult to pick a film we both want to see because we both enjoy different things.
I like experimental European films that concern themselves with defining and expounding on the limits of what art can and cannot say…. While my husband likes car chases.

We have the same problem when we go on holiday.
I like to immerse myself in the local customs and appreciate the different ranges of historical architecture… While my husband likes car chases.

* * * * *

Anyway the films these days are all gunfire and cars bursting into flames. Why pay six quid to see that? I can get the bus to South London for two.

Don’t you think the cinema tickets could be cheaper if they cut down on production costs? Make do with Ocean’s Three or The Dirty Five.
Indiana Jones and the Last Rollo.
Or in ‘The Devil Wears Prada’, I wouldn’t have minded if the Devil just wore some nice things from Topshop or Kookai.

* * * * *

Why do they serve popcorn in the cinema? Surely there must be other more suitable foods?
I know when I came out of 'Finding Nemo' I could have murdered some sushi.
When I came out of 'Scarface', I really fancied some Coke.
And after 'Brokeback Mountain' my husband said he really fancied a saveloy and a donut.

* * * * *

My Granny told me she’s following the advice they give in the new Flora margarine advert.
It says to keep healthy and get your heart pumping, you should “do one thing every day that scares you”.
So tonight, she’s going out for a drink with John Leslie.

* * * * *

I come from Killimare in Ireland – it’s a very ugly town.
It’s so ugly it’s twinned with the ginger one from Girls Aloud.

* * * * *


Every lamp-post in the street has a missing cat poster.

The Maitre D’ knows the Last Rites off by heart.

Gordon Ramsay is in the kitchen – with a film crew!

The sweet trolley is pulled by a St. Bernard.

Epsom Salts are on the Wine list.

When you get the bill, they don’t give you Mints – they give you get antibiotics.

The waiters give you tips!

Even Claire Sweeney doesn’t bother turning up for the grand opening!

You can’t decide whether the food tastes worse going down or coming back up.

The manure dealer next door comes in to complain about the smell.

Ketchup on the table in a tomato shaped bottle so that the clientele know what it is.

There is a faded signed picture of Frank Bruno on the wall.

* * * * *

The last concert I went to, I was so far from the stage I could hardly hit the drummer with my beer can.
I had to sort of bounce it off the bass players head.
Which would have been okay if I’d been at Wembley but I was at my nephew’s school gala.

* * * * *

Coldplay – God, have you heard them? Have you ever heard anything so dull and bland and insipid?
They actually sound like a Valium tablet being dropped into a glass of water.
They should have a health warning on their record covers – “Do not operate heavy machinery while listening to this crap!”

* * * * *

I’ve no time for that dirge. No, I want my music like I want my sex – loud, fast and performed by four angry young men in leather jackets.

* * * * *

My husband has a huge record collection, and he’s always inventing different ways to file them.
This week he’s filing them by genre.
He said he didn’t know if he should put U2 under “I” for Irish band or “S” for Stadium rock – I said he should definitely put them under “S” … but that doesn’t stand for Stadium rock.

Or better still he could snap the record in half and put The Edge and the other two nobody knows under “S” and put Bono under “W”.

I can’t stand Bono. I mean, I admire him for all the charity work and that…because lets not forget that most mothers in the Third World lose a baby before they’re two – either to famine, disease, or Angelina Jolie.

* * * * *

Have you noticed this new trend for old bands to reform?
First there was ‘Take That’ … then ‘All Saints’ … now ‘The Police’.
Personally I’d like to see Flock of Seagulls getting back together.
But only if Richard Hammond is driving the tour bus.
And none of the band are wearing seat belts.

* * * * *

I don’t understand why people chose to download music rather than go to a record shop.
If you think about it, a record shop is about the only shop left where you actually get good service.
The staff actually know about the products they’re selling and want to help you.
They’ll even recommend other CD’s you might like.
Where else do you get that service?
I was in a shoe shop the other day and I asked for “a leather sandal in a size six – black”.
The girl came back 10 minutes later and said, “We don’t have a size 6 black, but we have a red - size 3. Is that any good?”
She was an idiot!

I mean, I still bought them.
What? Well sometimes you just want to buy shoes!

* * * * *

I love the way Bouncers have to formally “lift the rope” to let you in.
Nightclubs spend millions of pounds on complicated lighting systems and split level dance floors with the latest high tech sound equipment… and to finish it off…for the entrance… ”A bit of old rope?” “Yeah that’ll do.”

* * * * *

I mixed up my own blend of perfume.
It’s a dash of Victoria Beckham’s ‘Instinct’, a drop of Paris Hilton’s ‘Paris’ and a smidgen of Jennifer Lopez’s ‘Star’ - so it sends out the statement that I’m thin slut but with a fat arse.

* * * * *


While everyone else is in the toilets snorting cocaine – you’re admiring the stainless steel fittings.

You find yourself saying, "I’d like to go to Ibiza - for the country walks and traditional Spanish cooking.

Every time you get served a cocktail you can’t help wondering how many Weight Watchers points are in it.

You try to bribe you’re way in by slipping the bouncer some luncheon vouchers.

You turn up at 8.

You ask the DJ to play ‘Oops Upside Your Head’.

The bouncers let you in because they think you’re the man whose come to fix the smoke machine.

You think it would be nice if they’d use the big plasma screens to show the cricket highlights.