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No Moomins at Sexpo!

  
  Go to the Sexpo official website

   You know the way that, along with the slices of wood, nuts, bolts and the allen key, an Ikea flat pack really ought to come with a predetermined quota of expletives?  - well, for putting together a podcast it seems I'm going to need considerably more Fuck's sakes!
  
  It's my recording curse, I know it is. 
  When I was very small there were booths on railway stations where you could cut a record. My dad took me to the one at Charing Cross to make a birthday greeting for my mother. The finished track went a little something like this:
  DAD.  Ready to sing...and one, two...
  ME.  What's all that noise?
  DAD.  That's the people walking outside. 
  ME.  What people?
  DAD.  You were just asking about them.
  ME.  What did I ask about them?
  DAD.  Who they were, Iestyn.
  ME.  Who are they?
  DAD.  Lots of different people.
  ME.  But who?
  DAD.  Just passersby.
  ME.  What's that?
  DAD.  People that are passing by outside.  
  ME.  Why are they?
  DAD. They're going to catch trains.
  ME.  Why?
  DAD.  The trains take them where they want to go.
  ME.  Where are they going?
  DAD.  I don't know.
  ME.  How old's mum today?
  DAD.  Thirty-eight.
  ME.  How old are you?
  DAD.  Twenty-nine.  Now, come on...Hap - 
  ME.  How old am I?
  DAD.  Three.
  ME.  Silly, I'm four!
  DAD. Cowing hell, Iestyn!
  ME.  Um, you said a dirty word!  You said...

   And the time was up. 

   I was wanting to make my first podcast about something spectacular, and Sexpo this weekend was the obvious choice.  I'm performing as Madame Galina on the Sexpo cabaret stage on all three days, along with a sumptuous line up including Des O'Connor, the Folly Mixtures, Lolo Brow, Felipe Reyes, Aurora Galore, Ray Guns Look Real Enough, the Dreamboys, Pyrohex and Ayesha Hussain.  

   


   At first I was confused about where Sexpo might be, having misheard it as Sespo when Kelly-Marie Jessop, artistic coordinator, asked me to perform. Finland, had to be, I decided. I was there with an Evening of Burlesque last year; Kelly-Marie must have seen me at the Savoy Theatre, Helsinki. 
  Ah, Helskinki - turning the corner to find the Cathedral.
  

  

  The restaurant where the Snow Queen might eat a la carte.

    
  
  The Moomin Shop!

   
  So, I was looking forward to going to Sespo. 
  Incidentally, I auditioned for Combined Services' Entertainment to go to Iraq thinking I was auditioning for Officers' Mess at the Hilton, Park Lane.  Not, I'll grant you, through mishearing.  The First Sea Lord had pointed me in the direction of Combined Services' after I sang at a naval supper that he hosted and asked him for more of the same naval styley corporates, please, sir. So, as he, the First Sea Lord, was behind my audition, it had to be for Officers' Mess at the Hilton Park Lane, no?  All indoors, safe and sanitized. Surely not, as it turned out, for Royal Marines in the wilds of Um Qasar, all shelling, diarrhea epidemics and camel spiders?  I got wise when Nicky Ness, holding the auditions, said that my security was of paramount importance to her, but she really could only guarantee it up to ninety percent; that I would have to bed down behind the wire with the squaddies, which I hoped meant rooms upstairs at the Hilton; and what would I do when I ran out of eyelash glue in the Iraq desert? 
  Oops!
  
  Anyway, here I was being offered this nicely gig in Sespo. And I emailed to accept, saying: 
  'Can't wait to be part of your event in Sespo, nicely, thank you. And really looking forward to seeing Moomins in situ again!'
  Kelly-Marie tactfully wondered what I was on about...?  
  When things had been made clear to her, and then finally to me, she said that in the Sexpo office they had been wondering what body part or sexual act I could have meant when I said I was looking forward to seeing Moomins again in situ...
  Very pleased to announce future interviews on this blog with Royal Ballet Soloist Thomas Whitehead, MMA World Title Holder Marcus Kowal and one of Norway's great talents in the styling salon, Stefan Ericsson. 


   

   

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