In 1986 a fresh-faced brunette called Phillip Schofield got his big break when he became the first live in-vision continuity announcer on Children's BBC. He presented from the 'broom cupboard' and had a puppet sidekick called Gordon the Gopher. If you're roughly my age you'll have seen it, and if you're one of those youngster types you can check out how good kids' telly used to be on YouTube. Gordon was, as his name suggests, a gopher, but also, as it doesn't, an anarchist, and the joke was that Phillip would begin to announce the programmes while the puppet tried to sabotage things by making him laugh. Schofield did his job by talking to camera while simultaneously trying to anticipate the random and disruptive mugging of a naughty yellow soft toy lurking in his peripheral vision. Every day he faced the same problems that a ventriloquist does, but was denied the control of being the one with his hand up the puppet's arse. Occasionally, he tried to tackle Gordon head on, and would stare threateningly into the cold, dead, beady eyes of his co-host but this never worked, as Phillip was too nice, and Gordon too powerful, and so the battle was lost. Anyway, you don't need to have watched many episodes of This Morning before you realise that people rarely stray from a formula that works for them. *


* I'd like to thank everyone who supported that joke all the way to its punchline, which was, I admit, a long time coming. The more of this I do, the better I''ll surely get, and if any of you are still reading, you can be consoled by the thought that you're making a difference. Thank you.


Which is a rather long-winded way of saying that, unlike Phillip Schofield, I'm having a stab at something I'm garbage at at the moment - sketch writing - which is taking up loads of my time and stopping me doing the other thing I'm garbage at - like blogging. Hence the above joke. I'm having a go at a topical comedy sketch show open to new writers and am finding it very hard. It's the kind of thing that is written usually by very young, testosterone-fuelled bucks, fresh out of university and hungry for their big break. You can imagine what my middle-aged, mumsy attempts have been like so far...

'Junior minister, is that a suitable curtain material for your office, do you think?'

'What do I care for such things! I'm a thrusting young politician with a penchant for stabbing colleagues in the back and my eye on the main chance. Pull yourself together woman.'

'Right. I'll be off then.'

It's not exactly The Thick of It. So if I can think of anything funny for next week, I'll post it. Otherwise, expect more of the same rubbish for a bit until I get sick of it all and return to a life of obscurity. A bit like this.