My Motorcycle Tastes Blue

Turn Left


Works under consideration: 4 (Well I’m always writing a blog)
Dark Angel: Distant
Pyrates: ?
First Thought this morning: ‘The Madness of Crowds’
State of Mind: Hardworking Viking
Comedy Writing WordMix: Harry Enfield, a chin, a slice of ham, a large bap, lunch for the comedy gods. A meal for the rest of us.

My Motorcycle Tastes Blue
Or does it taste of wine gums?

‘Synaesthesia - from the Greek words syn (joining) and aisthesis (sensation) - affects one in 2,000 people. The artist Wassily Kandinsky was said to have had it, and David Hockney. But perhaps the most famous synaesthete is author Vladimir Nabokov, who described it as having "coloured hearing.’

I like the green of that.

Just love the idea. I did write a Physical Theatre type show once where the characters, on mimed motorbikes end up waiting at some traffic lights.

WILL:
Red, red, red, red, wait for it…Amber, ready, ready, ready. Green GO! Blue.

WENDY:
What’s the blue for?

WILL:
Chill.

- END -

Blue traffic lights. You know you get so wound up in traffic and you are encouraged to take a moment to release. A big spliff-like sigh of ‘Hey! It doesn’t matter. All is coooooooool.’ Why don’t you lobby your MP? What would you get with a purple one?

The Madness of Crowds
I was reading (on my course The CIM ‘eMarketing Award’ marketing and stuff) about the great .com bubble bursts of the 90s. In The Netherlands during the 17th Century they had‘ Tulip Mania!’ or as it was known popularly known ‘tulipomania.’ (I dare you to slip that into a conversation tomorrow).

“A thousand Florins for a Tulip!”

People exchanged houses for a simple bulb.

"See that flower bed? That’s my pension, “Ja.”…


CAMERA PANS:
OVER ‘THE ‘COMEDY WRITER IN WAITING’ BLOG
THREE PYRATES APPEAR. THEY ARE RUNNING RIGHT TO LEFT. THEIR MUDDY FEET LEAVING DULL MARKS AMONGST THE ASCENDERS AND LIGATURES OF THE SERIF FONT.

CWiW:
Just a minute!

CAPTAIN NICE:
O’ Hello. Must be going have a…aeroplane to board.

CWiW:
Could you walk around the headings please.

GRANITE:
Shall I thong him Captain? Shall I shell him like a ripe CRAB!

WOODY HICCUPS

CAPTAIN NICE:
Very good of you Granite but we have not the time nor the…erm…time…to

WOODY COLLAPSES TO THE BOTTOM OF THE BLOG

GRANITE:
Compardre!

WOODY (gasping).
I aren’t going to make it my Mammoth-like-friend. Be…like!

GRANITE & CAPTAIN NICE:
BELIKE!

WOODY:
Here is my poem of death.

‘I wondered lonely as a Weasel…

CWiW:
Would you like a drink?

WOODY:
That would be nice.

GRANITE:
AYE! TWICE AYE! YA’ Bastard!

CAPTAIN NICE:
A sweet sherry.

CWiW:
If you could just step off the screen and make your way to the kitchen.

PYRATES ALL:
BELIKE!

- END -

Tune into the next blog
Where I get to drink ‘FireJuice’ from the smuggling fiends of Bournemouth, dance with a pretty lady, and write something beginning with ‘Z.’


GRANITE: (V.O.)
FECK’IN CHARDONNAY!

CWiW: (Shouting over his shoulder)
Well it is oaked.

GRANITE
Mmmmm!