Made up

Went shopping for make up yesterday - in Inverurie. I grew up there, and it’s the kind of place where if you say you’re an “actor”, it’s a euphemism, and you’re likely to be punched out. So, me and Blayne and Saskia went to Superdrug with Mike (director - from Inverurie) and Holly (make-up - from Inverurie). Found my new porn name - Honey Glow, although it was too expensive for Mike’s liking. He would be happier with grout.

But it got me thinking, I was on Alan Cumming’s website a couple of days ago - he’s lovely, I met him in Aberdeen in August when he did the Bacchae. He had the best entrance ever (oooh err missus). He was lowered onto the stage from the roof, strapped up by the ankles, wearing a gold lame kilt which was flapped down baring his arse to the world. He was lowered into a lying position and just looked at the audience, all coy, just daring them not to clap. Great stuff.

Anyway, oh yeah, I was on his website, and he’s got his own fragrance, Cumming. Yeah, I thought that too. But apparently it’s real, or at least you can place an order. “Leaves you with a subtle hint of cumming” brilliant.

I want my own fragrance. I’m going to launch a whole range, including guyliner and manscara of course, and I have the names - hands off!! My aftershave is called Tester-One (get it?) and my foundation powder is called So Matt-cho (see what I did there?).  Was going to do a lovely male lipstick, but apparently you already get Chap-stick. Ah well. By the way, I’m not actually gay.

part two

Strange days indeed. Two and a half hour trip to Londoninium for a shoot. Got there feeling blaahhh until the make up artistes got a hold of me and pampered me and my hair. Ahhhhhh. Then got my clothes off and hopped into bed with a beautiful actress who stroked me for an hour.

Then we had lunch.

Then I humped a pillow for a while. Got back to the boat at 1am to find three large industrial batteries on the bank. I smelled rain in the air(!) so I hauled them on board - inevitably I found myself floating in the river with a large battery in my lap. It started to fizz, and as I started to grow extra body parts and my body hair evaporated I leapt out screaming, hauled myself on board and sank into bed leaving a trail of murky water in my wake.Next day, taking my still wet impossibly stripey trousers to the dry cleaners, I got them caught in the front wheel of a borrowed bike. The front wheel stopped quickly, the back wheel didn’t and I did a somersault off it - in the middle of Oxford. A car screeched to a halt, with its bumper over my feet.

Remind me never to take my crystal off again!

The Never-ending Audition (part 1)

meWelcome to my world. Let’s have some fun. OK, maybe tomorrow I’ll wake up in a colourless world with no joy, but the last 18 months have been a blast, and I’m working hard to make that continue so you can enjoy it vicariously.

I was born in Elgin, in north-east Scotland, and grew up in Inverurie, Aberdeenshire. I like going back now, but I always wanted to get away when it was home, I guess everyone does. When you leave and come back you see ‘home’ through new eyes.

I eventually left Aberdeen when I split up with my first ex-wife (we’re good friends now) to come to Oxford and drama school. I met my second ex-wife at drama school, and settled in Oxfordshire. I started again - again - on my own two years ago, and live on a houseboat in Oxford.

When my guidance teacher at school asked what I wanted to do and I said “Be an actor” he replied “Do you know how many people want to do that, what else do you want to do.” Now that’s great career advice, Inverurie style! I decided that I would write about actors (and footballers and rock stars), which is how I fell into journalism. It still pays the odd bill (ahem) while remuneration for my acting exploits remains sporadic (but doubling every year!).

But life is good again. It’s filled with good friends who have been there through bad times and good. That’s good then. Good.