Bill Gates loves Linkin Park

While I was writing the last post I had Windows Media Player randomly playing the 1389 mp3s I have in My Music folder. Now I will admit I have one Linkin Park album in there for reasons I can't remember. Even though it is set to random, Windows Media player decides to play Linkin Park at least every other song. The only conclusion I can come to is that Bill Gates is a massive Linkin Park fan and has programmed it to play them any time it is set to random. I don't even like Linkin Park. Fuck you Bill Gates.


Pete

A comedy of errors

When we started gigging we expected that our first show would be the worst. We assumed that once we got underway we would iron out the kinks, end up word perfect and the show would be better for it. Somehow the opposite has been true. The more we do it the less we seem to know. Wednesday’s gig in Manchester was proof of this being technically the worst but somehow more fun than the rest.

The only words that I need to get right are my opening lines. They are also the words I have spoken the most as they open the whole show. Of course on the night I just said something completely different which messed Dan’s actions which relied on them. The sound also didn’t work which meant that Chris had to sort it out mid show. It’s alright though because I managed to cover for him by dancing for the audience while he was gone. We are lucky to have my dancing skills in the group otherwise I don’t know where we would be.

In our defence we had never seen the venue of the set up and had virtually no time to set up the props and sound. The atmosphere was so warm however, that we could just relax and mess around a bit more than we were used to. In past gigs if the sound had failed I would have dealt with it swiftly by running off the stage crying.

We also did a few things that we had done in rehearsals but didn’t have the balls to do on-stage which was nice. Ironically one of these was me hitting Dan and Chris in the balls as I ran past. Actually we had never really rehearsed that. All of which proves that planning and preparation get you nowhere. Next year we won’t bother writing a show. We will just turn up, fuck around for an hour and end on us all kicking each other up the arse.

Pete

Brighton Fringe: From Washout to Sell-out

A week is a long time in politics. It’s even longer if you’re a Daddy Long Legs and your average lifespan is 24hrs. But in comedy, a week can be a roller coaster.

After months of writing, re-writing, cutting things out, rehearsing, putting things back in, publicising, fliering, hoping and shitting, all our hard work comes down to two gigs in one fine week in the middle of Brighton Fringe Festival. One fine week prefixed by Chris losing his voice, Pete’s inexplicable nose-bleeds and my unfortunate rash. From our point of view, the first gig was a bit of a washout. Despite hours of fliering and my ridiculous headgear we only got 13 people through the door. And most of those were people we knew. We were initially taken aback by the turnout (and I think this was reflected in our energy at the start of the show) but the material was well received, we got consistent laughter, and the delivery and performance was good. We were just pissed off that no-one was there to see it, although with the show being at 22:00 on a Tuesday we were always going to struggle for numbers (despite being comedy pick of the day in the local newspaper and the fringe email!).

The second show couldn’t have been more different to the first. Demoralised by the first show, we threw caution to the wind and gave up on fliering and rehearsing. Instead we hired our resident heavy, Jon, to force people to come and utilised the power of Facebook to network our way to success. It worked. The second show was a sell-out. More chairs had to be brought into the theatre and the show had to start late as a result. The energy levels were good all the way through, the material consistently went down well and it was much more enjoyable than the first gig. Because of the first gig we went into the second a bit more relaxed and confident which allowed us to play around with the material a bit more and ad-lib some extra material. As the gig went on, however, I think we became a little bit more self-conscious and because of this (and lighting and sound issues) we missed out a couple of sections and lines. This was really annoying as we reference them later in the show and some good material was lost.

Overall, the festival was a great experience. I think our performance was more solid in the first gig – we performed the material well and without (much) mistake but the second gig was much more enjoyable and allowed us to gauge the quality of the material more effectively. The bigger audience also allowed us to establish a better rapport and atmosphere – because of the small audience at the first gig this was very difficult. Most of all, we’ve got a better idea of what works and what doesn’t in the show. We’re playing around with the material a lot more now which means we’re writing new bits and improving sections. The familiarity also means the performance is getting better. But there’s still a long way to go before Edinburgh. The show will be further road tested in Manchester, London and Brighton before then. It’ll be polished, refined and tweaked but rest assured we’ll return infantile, silly and slightly obscene.

Dan

Anonymous Email

Today we received this anonymous email. It amused us. We thought it might amuse you too:

I was appalled when I accidentally logged on to your website

Those two young men in the bath were obviously severely mentally impaired and to film them during their ablutions was little short of abuse! Does their mother know? She must be a caring mum having taught the boys the intricacies of parts washing in such detail but I am damn sure it wasn't her on the other end of the camera!

Do your films have to be so nauseatingly realistic?

I would love to see a film about a kitten or better still, two kittens frolicking gayly with a ball of wool or a cardboard box. By 'frolicking gayly' I do not mean in the sense of feline homosexuality. In any event, pre-pubescent cats would have little or no notion of that sort of thing. I should not have to explain myself, however, given the sort of material Lamda goes in for, maybe I do have to explain myself. So, just kittens alright, gender is unimportant, wool or cardboard box also unimportant although I tend to lean toward wool as they may get frightened in a box (though no doubt you would think that funny).

And another thing............

Dan's a Head Case

We’ve recently been flyering for our Brighton Fringe show. Due to the greed of Brighton & Hove City Council it’s now compulsory to buy a pass to flyer. This means that all the small productions (like ourselves) can’t afford to buy a pass because we’ve already forked out on venue hire, fringe registration, entry into the brochure, costumes, posters and fliers. Conversely, all the big productions and commercial outlets can afford to buy passes. The whole point of the pass system is to reduce litter but, when the biggest culprits have always been big productions and commercial outlets and these can continue to flyer at their will, how the fuck is that fair? It creates a two-tier system. The big shows will get bigger because they can publicise more and the small shows will get swallowed up. It undermines the whole definition of an ‘arts’ and a ‘fringe’ festival.

Anyway, there is a small window of opportunity to flyer for free. This opportunity falls during Fringe City on each Saturday during the festival. With three Saturdays and 2, 500 flyers that’s 833.33333333333333 flyers per day! However, due to the restrictions, every other show in the world is out flyering. Therefore, we needed something different to distinguish us from the crowd. We needed something unique yet attractive. We needed something distinct yet inviting. In short, we needed something that makes me look like a bell-end. And so we came up with this:
I originally had the idea when I was pretending to be a beekeeper by putting my washing basket on my head. The idea soon evolved from a beekeeping costume into a PR machine. It has garnered much interest in our show and one person even called me ‘block head’. I’m not sure if that’s bullying or not. The only drawback to my magnificent headdress (apart from being precarious during even slight winds) is the craterous indentations it leaves on my forehead. This can be painful and has caused my forehead to start peeling. But the positives outweigh the negatives. For anyone interested, I will be holding workshops throughout the 2009 Fringe on how to make these head cases.

Dan

Jackwert in progress: 50 Curly Wurlys eaten, scenes filmed.

A few weekends ago we filmed “Jackwert” a little epic at just over 20-25 minutes, divided into three episodes. We managed to film over 7 hours of footage, containing some 50 scenes. Of course, back in the day (i.e. last year) we would need 7 hours of tape to make something five minutes long. We’re much more efficient now, mainly because we press the stop button whenever we’re dicking around - thus saving hours of recording time. Shot entirely in one flat and on a shoestring budget, it is currently being edited into a fully-fledged film. What I want to do is tell you some stuff about the making of the film, so that when it comes out you will either a) Forgive us for the quality of the finished product OR b) Be even more amazed by the quality of the finished product. Preferably b).

As usual, our usual share of troubles was dished up sloppily on to the Ladma plate. A shortage of crew, and the presence of a highly contagious (and debilitating) disease meant that filming was harder than usual. The disease was kept at bay by various pills, sniffing fumes from albas oil and guzzling lemsip. We managed to keep it from harming our acting (which, let’s face it, needs all the help it can get). However, despite our best efforts with these medicines, we soon found that we were in the midst of a most pernicious and destructive epidemic. Pete reached “Phase 3” of the disease right during the busiest period of our schedule, but acted so hard that he managed to break through its negative effects. Community life in the flat is close knit and people move around a lot - soon I too began to develop some of the symptoms, such as sneezing. Some several days later I succumbed fully to the illness, but during the filming I was actually alright. We had sound problems too - people kept doing things like mowing their lawn, shouting, setting off alarms and flying planes. I certainly found out that the people of Hangleton, Hove can be a noisy bunch when they want to.

We also endured plenty of other hardships, as is quite typical for filming time. Pete and Dan almost invariably end up with the short straw during films – their roles require them to do things like almost drown in the sea in November, be naked, almost get set on fire, get doused in milk, wear a woman’s dress, eat cold chips and so on. I, on the other hand, mostly get to do the more cushy options like voice-overs. This time both Pete and Dan had to be naked at times, and Dan had to sip cold tea filled with salt (because we had no sugar to use as a prop). Even I wasn’t spared this time, having to eat a bowl of cereal with SKIMMED milk because we had no semi-skimmed.

The budget ran into the tens of pounds. The list of props purchased were: 50 Curly Wurlys (now all eaten), copies of Tomb Raider & Tomb Raider III, a pair of knickers, a key ring, some basic hair products, assorted charity shop costumes, a bunch of men’s and women’s magazines, 12 scratch cards (pilfered from other magazines), and 12 ‘Munch Bunch’ yoghurts.

Because of our current workload, we intend to balance work on the film with preparations for our live show, “Ladma vs. The World”. We have nurtured both projects from tiny idea eggs, then to little half-written hatchlings, and finally to the early stages of comic fruition. Soon, both of them will be big and strong enough to be set loose, so that they can make their own way in the world. Just when we’ll get time to play Tomb Raider I don’t know.

Chris

Post Traumatic Stress

Today we received our neighbour’s post by accident. Normally this wouldn’t be a problem as it’s usually a bill or junk mail. You just go downstairs and stick it through their door. Not in this case. Today we received a catalogue. Shapely Figures catalogue to be precise. With the strap line ‘Make the most of your figure’. A nice sentiment I think you’ll agree but not really something I’d like to consider in association with my elderly neighbour. So what do you do in a situation like that? Bear in mind that it wasn’t a discrete catalogue but plastered with a large picture of a large lady. I couldn’t just post it through their letterbox. It was almost one o’clock in the afternoon so, if I posted it, they would know that it wasn’t the postman. They would know that it came from upstairs. They would know that I’d seen my neighbour’s underwear of choice. It’s not that I was embarrassed (which I was) but more to do with the fact that my neighbour might be embarrassed when she knew I’d seen her catalogue (which she wouldn’t have been). So what could I do? Post the letter through her door and leave us both in the knowledge that I’d seen her large smalls? Keep the catalogue myself? Throw the catalogue out in the recycling? (I knew this wasn’t a feasible option because my neighbour might see our recycling and think I’d been stealing her mail). In the end I just took the catalogue to the post-box and reposted it. I know I’m costing the Royal Mail more money but, to save our collective embarrassment, I think it’s worth it. I just hope my next issue of Fat Kids Magazine doesn’t get delivered downstairs by mistake.

Dan