This is a clip from an excellent show from across the pond, the Mighty Boosh. It won’t help much to explain the background, but in this episode, there’s a 70/30 man/fish named Old Gregg in love with a jazz maverick called Howard. Old Gregg happens to keep the Funk in his cave with him, which is why he sounds and looks a bit like a soggy Rick James. Anyway…enjoy.
I have survived hosting my two sisters, their British-brother-boyfriends, their boyfriends’ parents, and my mother and my brother from San Diego in my tiny house. It was. An. Adventure. Their dad wandered onto the tarmac while waiting for their flight out from Austin, and was detained for being a terrorist. He claims that no-one told him he couldn’t go walking on the airstrip. He also liked to splash himself with water in the bathroom instead of taking a shower, which has the overall effect of washing the whole bathroom, including the mirror. He is obsessed with Boddington’s pub ale and hot chocolate, but refuses to pay more than $1.50 for anything.
We had a little party after Xmas so that Laura’s friends from Portland could come visit, and this was my first family party I have ever been to that went on past 3 AM. I went to bed at two to the sound of my future father-in-law swishing soy milk around in his Egg Nog bottle to get the last dregs of whiskey and milk out, and my sister Laura singing to the detuned piano on the back porch, and my spouse singing as Tom Waits in the front room.
Laura Ryan: Oh, I was playing that piano last night, it is sounding so creepy and awesome.
Me: Yes, I heard you.
Laura: You could hear that?
Me: It’s right outside my bedroom. There’s not, you know, any kind of soundproofing out on the patio. You’re just a drunk person outside. I love family time.