Well another Brits and yet another crushing disappointment. It’s to be expected really. I go through this every year. I get really excited and then I realise, traditionally about half way through the show, that it’s just another glorified Top of the Pops. Now TOTP was THE show back in the day but it was cancelled for a reason. Combine this format with a back-slapping awards ceremony, full of music industry people and it’s no wonder it falls a little flat.

There’s no doubt its got slicker but do we, the great British public want slick? The Grammy’s are slick. But it’s also incredibly dull. I like the fact that it’s gone back to the music. Last nights show at more live performances than ever before and some were excellent (Adele, Rihanna) and some were dire (Olly Murs).

But we don’t really care who wins do we? I don’t think I’ve ever met someone that votes. Clearly people do, just not the people I know. So what’s missing? What do we want to see at an awards ceremony?

I think we want to see some Rock N’ Roll. We want to see some misbehaviour. We want celebrities and musicians make an arse of themselves. Yes, Liam Gallagher is and has been a bit of a knob at previous Brits. But at least he was entertaining. Who can forget Jarvis and Jacko on full moon night? Or Chumawumba, enjoying a John Prescott, with ice? Sam Fox and Mick Fleetwood with zero chemistry and charisma? We loved every second didn’t we?

'Moonwalking? If you like moons, watch this...'

That’s what we want to see. What did we have last night? Plan B slightly tipsy and James Corden desperate to hit the 10 0’Clock news.

Come on musicians of Britain (imagine Tom Baker saying this), let’s shake things up next year.

Hello. Welcome to my mid-life crisis, Volume IV, Chapter 6; reforming a band. Yes, that’s right. I’m doing what the Stone Roses are doing but on a much smaller scale. I believe they are doing Festivals and World Tours; we’re looking at filling the Crown and Mitre in Newark, Nottingham. It’s a different world but the same sentiment; nostalgia (and a few million quid for the Roses, obviously).

Let’s start from the beginning. I used to be in a band. I was in several bands but this one was one of my favourites. We were called ‘Sock’ and I was the singer. No-one knows why we were called Sock but we were big in the nineties (in Newark). It was around the same time as the Roses coincidently but we were probably much more inspired by the Happy Mondays; inspired by their lifestyle rather than their music. We liked a drink. And we liked performing drunk. There was a touch of rock n’ roll about us but really it was all a front to cover up our inadequacies as musicians (much like the Mondays). We knew that, our audience knew that but somehow it didn’t matter. We were all in it together. This was the nineties, man.

'Like my earring? Cool, eh?'

You have to remember this was 1992 and there was very little going on in a small market town in Nottingham. You made your own entertainment and once we’d got bored of drinking thunderbird in the local park, the only thing left for us to do, was to form a band. Once we had a band, we needed an audience and despite all of its faults, Newark did have a thriving student scene, who were also bored and looking for something to do. It was a perfect fit. Come and see a band. Get drunk with us. Dance with us. You could even sing a long (we didn’t really have ‘lyrics’). For one night only, we’re going to forget all this impending adulthood and have a good time.

We did well. We released an EP, we did some big gigs both in Newark and Nottingham and we got the girls. You can’t really ask for anything more. I mean a career would have been nice but deep down we knew we were just in it for the crack. Not literally. Crack wasn’t invented until 1994.

Anyway, I digress. We’re reforming. It’s our 20^th anniversary this year and we’re doing a one-off gig back in Newark in June. Many of our fans still live there and hope to come if they can get babysitters. We’re over the moon and very excited and all those feelings as a 21 year old come flooding back. We’ll drink less. We’ll probably be tired by midnight. And we’re not aloud to pull any groupies because our wives would probably disapprove. But once we’re on stage, we know that magical feeling will return and for one night only, we’ll be young again.

I bloody love a mid-life crisis.

So it appears Arry’s in a spot of bother about some tax thing. He allegedly (that word may well pop up again) took some money or a ‘bung’ as the prosecution have alleged (there it is) and put it in a secret offshore bank account.

Stuck for names and wanting to steer away from that ‘wheeler-dealer’ image, he decided to put the money in an account under his dog’s name, Rosie. Great story but slightly disappointed he didn’t put it under his wife’s name, Darren Bent.

This trail has a couple of weeks to go and they’ll be many twists and turns but as a Tottenham fan, am I worried? Well the short answer to that is, no.

I love ‘Arry. He’s been our best manager for years. Whether he’s dodgy or not, I don’t really care. He has got Spurs playing the best football in the Premier League, he’s brought the best out of all the players and he’s respected throughout the game. In short, when it comes to the beautiful game, I trust him completely. In fact, I’d quite like him to be my Dad. He’s clearly wasted on Jamie.

The other thing lingering issue over Mr.Redknapp this year, is something potentially a lot more damaging to one’s health; that being the job of England’s next manager. He’s a clear favourite for fans, players and his fellow managers but the F.A will be watching proceedings nervously, over the course of the next few weeks and for good reason.

Harry Redknapp; no Brad Pitt.

If he’s found guilty, the F.A won’t touch him. (Don’t panic we’ve got Alan Pardew and Sam Allardyce to fall back on.)  If he’s innocent, he’s odds on to take the England job by the end of the summer.

If he’s found guilty, where dies this leave Tottenham? Well, to be honest, I think they’ll be right there, where you left them ‘Arry, waiting with open arms to welcome you back. Daniel Levy won’t care. He’ll just want his main man back, tax dodger or not.

So where does that leave me as a Tottenham fan? Do I want Dad to go down, for the good of the club?

Of course I do. I love Redknapp but I  love Tottenham more.

I’m two weeks into a detox (no alcohol) and I’ve just signed up with a personal trainer; it must be January. This is an annual tradition in my life, setting myself goals to encourage some focus, drive and commitment through the gloomiest month of the year. It’s a goal doomed to failure of course, as normal life sets in but this time I’m determined to keep aspects of it for the rest of the year.

The drink thing has been fine so far; I’ve just been avoiding pubs, bars, street drinkers and eye contact with our healthy stash of drink left over from Christmas. I’m heading into the third week of no drinking and I did start to feel the benefits of it last weekend, spending an unusual weekend full of clarity and optimism. That will go out the window this weekend, as I head in to my first proper social engagement of 2012; my best mates engagement party. I’m the best man, I should drink really.

Alongside that, I’ve just signed up with a personal trainer, as part of a TV documentary but also because I need to be motivated to do serious exercise and I want to make it part of my everyday life. I’m quite happy playing football once a week and popping in to town on my bike but I would never, ever consider stepping inside a gym. It’s just too manly.

'Hello, I'm Jodie Marsh. Fancy me?'

However, I did just that last week, for my first session and it wasn’t too bad actually. I looked a little odd and a bit awkward but I think, given the right sportswear, I could fit in to that scene. My personal trainer though will also be looking at my lifestyle. This is when it gets complicated.

By lifestyle she means; food, work, stress and sleep. The everyday stuff we just do without even thinking about it. I’m pretty good at the food thing, being a lentil guzzling hippy but I’m probably a workaholic, if I’m honest and sleep, as much as I love it, is not a priority in my life. There’s stuff to be done, I haven’t got time for sleep. Emily, my personal trainer, will change that, no doubt. I’m already calling her ‘Evil Emily.’ Lovely girl but she’s going to cause me a lot of pain over the next few weeks and I know she’s going to get some weird and twisted satisfaction out of that.

But you know what they say….No pain, no gain (or cake for that matter).

Wish me luck.

Last night was my final appearance in Monty Python’s ‘Spamalot’ at the Theatre Royal Brighton and I have to say, it’s been an utter joy. I made my debut on Tuesday, popping in with a cameo appearance and a delivering a crucial word (I won’t tell you what it is, in case you’re coming). At the end I do a little speech from the castle and then join in with the cast for a rousing rendition of, ‘Always look on the bright side of life.’

The cast have been brilliant and the main stars Marcus Brigstocke (loved my shirt and insisted on telling me where it was from), Todd Carty (loves a fag) and Jodie Prenger (more northern than the northern lights), have particularly welcomed me in to the thespian bosom.

It all started off hilariously with the costume fitting (see picture) got even more comical when I took part in the warm-up (this included some Dad dancing on my behalf) but my favourite moment came shortly before the performance.

Hello sailor. I mean Knight.

Immediately after the costume fitting and warm    up, I was assigned my dressing room, where I was  given space to, ‘get in the zone.’ In each dressing room and on the stage, there is a speaker, from which the Stage Manager barks orders and tells you what is happening and when. It’s very professional, as you’d expect.

About thirty minutes before show time, the Stage Manager announces that there is ‘thirty minutes until show time (I could have told him that) and that ‘could all the cast be aware that today’s special guest playing Sir. Not Appearing (my character) will be……..…Guy Pearce.

I don’t need that kind of pressure on my first night.

Well hello there. Here we go again; my first blog of 2012. Thanks for dropping by. There are a few additions to my website, hope you like. I’ve finished the Baileys, so let’s crack on with another year.

Things are a little calmer at the radio station after a manic December. We’ve got a few new artists coming through in the next couple of weeks, some of them with the poison chalice that is ‘hotly tipped for 20… (fill in the blank)’ Always a good/bad thing for a band. It’s a tough industry as we know but hype can work for or against you. There’s really no telling.

‘Cover Drive’ (friends of Rihanna, don’t you know) and girl band ‘Stooshe’ will be gracing the corridors of Juice towers later this month. You heard it here first (or last).

In other news, congratulations to Latest TV, who have been granted a licence to have their very own telly channel for our glorious City. There’s a long way to go but it’s looking good so far. I’ve really enjoyed presenting for them over the last year and we’ve got some great documentaries coming up. I’m about to embark on an 8 week programme with a personal trainer from next week, with the goal being to ‘lose the paunch’ and ‘install some significant lifestyle changes.’ I’m scared. And missing cake.

Also in the pipeline ‘Guy does the Amex,’ when we’ll have unlimited access to our beautiful shiny new stadium and I’ll also be filming a day in the life of one of Albion’s first team players..

Almost done and up on the website in the next couple of days is ‘Guy does Brighton Wheel (terrifying)’ and ‘Guy does street dance.’ Yes, street dance. Keep an eye on http://thelatest.co.uk/7/latest-tv

I’m back hosting all the regular stand-up comedy nights around Brighton from next week, including the Foragers and Alibi in Hove and kicking off with the Whistlestop Inn in Portslade next Wednesday. Check out my events at the bottom of my website for more details of upcoming gigs. We’ve also got big plans for Brighton Fringe Festival with comedy crew, filthy gig dog in May. I’ll let you know more nearer the time.

Finally, also bubbling under, a pilot football podcast with the chaps from Toe Poke. This is basically a bunch of metrosexuals, dishonouring the good name of British football. I’ll let you know when and where you can here it, as soon as we’ve cleared it with our legal team.

One more thing…

Does anyone know where we can get a good legal team?

1)      It really is the season to be jolly, even if you have to fake it. It’s that little window in winter, when we can momentarily shake off our seasonal affected disorder and pretend we’re having a good time. We can smile and when we receive that surprise Christmas card from a work colleague (knowing that it won’t be reciprocated) and justify that it’s ok to spend vast amounts of money on loved ones, (knowing that it will be reciprocated). If you spend most of December doing the above, you’ll forget you’re depressed and actually believe you’re happy, by the time you get to the big day. (Warning; depression will return on Boxing Day).

2)      It seems to be perfectly acceptable, both in Brighton and nationwide, that’s it OK to binge drink throughout the course of December. Most employers will actively encourage it, not only with the traditional work party but also an increased amount of random ‘after work drinks.’ It gets to a point when there’s no actual work going on in the office and that the company is actually in meltdown in the week leading up to Christmas. Drinking heavily also blocks out a lot of the feelings you get in my first Top reason to embrace Christmas (see above).

3)      If you’re single, you’re in for such a good time, if you choose to. There’s never a more rampant time of the year for a singleton, than Christmas. Two of the reasons are already stated previously; chasing the opposite sex will alleviate feelings of winter gloom and drinking heavily will make everyone appear more attractive and more likely to get sleep with you. It’s the one time of the year that Tina in accounts, could actually be an acceptable conquest, if it’s done on the sly and she doesn’t blab about it the morning after.

I was sad to hear that one of Brighton’s finest bands, Doll and the Kicks, had split up recently. A band that slogged their guts out to get signed but finally called it a day to pursue other projects. That’s the short story and it’s a familiar one for so many up and coming bands in this country but it was so much more than that.

I first came across DATK at one of those god-awful ‘Battle of the Bands’ at the Walkabouts in Brighton, probably about six years ago now. I was hosting and they were competing. I noticed the singer as soon as I got there to prepare. Striking and unconventionally beautiful (that’s meant as a compliment Hannah, if you’re reading this), she stood out amongst the normal ‘clientele’ of a West Street bar. At that point she was hanging out with her mates looking cool (unusual in the Walkabouts) and then she got up and sang. All I remember at that point, was the whole pub stopping talking, looking up too see THAT girl and hear THAT voice. It was a memorable moment and I knew there and then, that the band was going to go to bigger and better things. (Let’s face it, after the Walkabouts, the only way is up).

They slogged it out in Brighton for a while, cementing their place in the local scene whilst picking up a decent following. They then started spreading their wings and touring up and down the country and more importantly playing London. It was here that Morrissey, no less, popped in on a recommendation and like everybody else that stumbled across the band, saw the potential and invited them to tour with him across Europe and the UK.

Doll and the Kicks; quite leggy.

It was make or break for the band at that point and although they met all the right people and their fan base grew to a point where they could consider selling records, that elusive record deal remained just that. They continued a little while longer, getting national airplay and all the right endorsements but it wasn’t to be.

I’m proud to say I was the first person to play them on the radio and I enjoyed a many a long night hanging out with them and supporting them on their seemingly unstoppable rise. I knew it was going to be tough but there’s only so much a band can do, before they throw in the towel and they’ve obviously made the decision that that time is now.

In an age where Jedward can be considered a ‘pop act,’ it’s a tragedy that bands like DATK and so many more up and down the country, will never have the exposure and the platform to really showcase what British music is in this country.

They’ll go on and do great things, whatever they decide to do but for now, thanks for the memories DATK, you really were quite special.

I’m going to leave with you with what I consider their finest song. Enjoy:

Sorry to disappoint you if you were expecting an blog about my testicles. It will come (one point for innuendo) eventually but now is not the time. I’m talking about the two biggest balls of the Brighton calendar year and I’m delighted to say I’m hosting both of them. Yeh, get me. The first one is this Saturday at the Hilton Metropole for the Rockinghorse Charity and the second, also at the Hilton on December 3^rd, for the Chestnut Treehouse; two brilliant local charities, supporting children in their hour of need.

I’m looking forward to meeting Mitch Winehouse, who will be performing at the Snowman Spectacular on the 3^rd. He’s had a difficult year but he’s working hard on the Amy Winehouse Foundation, which is doing great things and I know that he’s donated a substantial amount to Chestnut. As for the Rockinghorse this Saturday, there are dodgems in the Hilton! The only time it’s acceptable to drink and drive (allegedly).

I’m hosting a bunch of comedy nights this side of Christmas; including ‘CULT ‘comedy at the Foragers, Hove November 29^th and December 27^th. ‘Comedy Cooler’ at the Alibi, also in Hove, on Friday December 2^nd and I’m most excited about hosting ‘Express Comedy’ at the Whistlestop Inn on December 14^th. The reason being, is that my favourite comedian currently working the UK circuit will be headlining.

'Hello ladies.'

Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you…Brian Gittins! If you haven’t seen Gittins; google him, the man is a genius. That’s all I’m saying. Come. Please. You won’t regret it.Other stuff in the pipeline;

I’ve got a date with my comedy writing partner, Gorgeous George, in a spa this Friday to discuss future comedy projects. This is how we roll. We’re going to have a gay old time.

I’m also working on a football podcast pilot with the chaps from www.toepoke.net Love talking about football. At great length, to anyone that will listen.

Talking of which, I’ll be hosting the 1901 Club in the East Stand at the Amex Stadium on November 26^th (Coventry) and December 3^rd (Notts.Forest) and over in the West Stand for Burnley on December 17^th. Come and laugh at my tie. That’s not a restaurant, by the way.

And finally, last but not least, I switch on the Christmas Lights on East Street tomorrow, with my co-host Andrea Fox, alongside such celebrities as Todd Carty and Marcus Brigstocke; pure Partridge. I love it.

Come and say hello if you see me at any of the above and I’ll greet you with a sexually charged hug.

Take care x

1)      What’s with the Brighton & Hove? Why can’t we just be Brighton? Hove can have its own sign and identity but why does it have to be tagged onto Brighton? Brighton’s cool. It doesn’t need the weight of Hove on its shoulder. It’s holding it back. Brighton will never reach its full potential, whilst Hove is dragging its heels in. It’s a Noel and Liam situation. One deserves its shining reputation; the other is just dining out on the others success. Hove apparently wants to break away from the ‘B & H’ tag. Well go. Off you trot. Go and be your own thing. You need us more than we need you. Why are you so threatened by Brighton but ignorant of Portslade? Pick on someone your own size, like Mile Oak.

'Pretentious? Moi?'

2)      Why do people that live in Portslade, deny it? And why, when questioned further, will people insist that they live in Hove when it is geographically incorrect? Take for example, millionaires row along the seafront, home to Norman and Zoe, Nick Berry and formerly, Sir. Paul McCartney. Have a look at the A-Z (an underrated read) and you’ll see, quite clearly, that particular row of houses are in Portslade. However, if the Argus gets an opportunity to slip in any of those fore-mentioned names, (i.e ‘Macca’s moving out exclusive’) they will always, say ‘Hove-based… insert celebrity name here.’ Steve Coogan can claim to live in Hove, mainly because he lives in Hove. And what the hell is West Hove? Now, you’re just making it up. Don’t give me West Hove. You’re Hangleton and you know you are.

3)      If you’re standing on Church Street, talking loudly on the phone, arranging to meet ‘friends for latte,’ then you deserve Hove.

So The Stone Roses are on. The band announced yesterday that they’d do a couple of gigs in Manchester and then an ‘extensive’ World Tour. I hope this includes the Pav Tav in Brighton. The rumours have been circulating ever since the band split up and it seemed Ian Brown and John Squire were the most resistant to the reunion. Brown has carved quite a solo career out for himself and Squire has been focused on his art (don’t they just splash a bit of paint around?).

But how do I feel about this? I have to say I’ve always been resistant to any band reunion. I’m always suspicious as to the reasons why and I if I genuinely love the band, as I do The Stone Roses, I really don’t want to see them fail. It’s part nostalgia, part feeling protective of the band itself, the former always being more romantic, albeit through rose tinted glasses (as I believe Ian Brown wore back in the day).

However, despite this, I have to say, I was mildly excited when the news started filtering through twitter over the weekend. And when the press conference was confirmed and they actually turned up, as the original four-piece, I just wanted them to do it and do it well. Before I knew it I was listening to their stunning debut album (still my favourite album of all time) and texting my friends from the ‘baggy years’ to urge them to buy a ticket come Friday.

The Great Baggy Love-In

They were never a great live band but when they were on it, they were hard to beat. It was always more about the swagger and the times and the Roses arrived at a time when dance and indie got in to bed and made sweet and sweaty love. I don’t do regrets but a time when I came very close to the ‘r’ word was failing to buy a ticket to see them live in Sydney, back in 1993. They were literally playing across the road but I was too busy pretending to be Ian Brown to buy a ticket. (these were the’ partying years’ and had the haircut to match).

I think the fact that they’ve had millions sitting on the table ready for this day makes me less suspicious. They’ve obviously chose their moment carefully (though the money will always be a factor) and they are writing music again, which makes me think, perhaps they really are up for this.

The likes of Pulp, Blur and even Led Zeppelin have proved that it’s ok to do this and that these bands are still loved the world over. The game plan has changed and the music industry is a very different place but if it means that these bands get another crack at a new audience, whilst making me feel young again, then why the hell not?

As for Steps, well, that’s another story.

Those closest to me would say I’m a twat. Dig a bit deeper and they may say that I’m an alright kind of bloke. Really delve and they may reveal that I’m a very deep, sensitive, spiritual person. That’s one side of me. There’s another side that’s shallow, superficial and a complete fantasist. Let’s explore this side.

A big part of the side that indulges in fantasy and revels in the detachment from reality, is my relentless ‘celebrity crush.’ This is a mild obsession with someone in the spotlight, which can differ from extremes of a respectful admiration to full-on stalking. Don’t do the stalking thing. Not healthy. Go see a therapist. They’ll be a perfectly acceptable explanation; something to do with your childhood. It always is.

I’ve indulged in the ‘celebrity crush’ all my life and I highly recommend it. I’ve even convinced myself it might happen on a couple of occasions, especially as I’ve been lucky enough to meet some of these fantasy women. Yes, I’m sure the wife would be upset if I told her I’d cheated on her but if I told her that I’d got off with Frankie from The Saturdays, she’s got to be impressed with that surely?

Things have been made easier over the years with the celebrity crush. What with facebook, twitter and the intimacy of the internet, you can actually contact your crush and correspond if you’re not too weird. My main reason for joining twitter was to eventually hook up with Lily Allen.  I fell hard for Lily when she returned to the spotlight with her second album and after meeting her at Glastonbury, my love for her was sealed. However, she has since got married, is pregnant and doesn’t return my tweets. It’s over Lily, if you’re reading this. I never want to see you again.

'Come and get me Guy!'

So who is my current celebrity crush? I would say it’s probably Amelle from the Sugababes. I’ve met her a few times and she’s stunningly drop-dead gorgeous. Lovely personality and yes, lets be shallow about this, a great bum. Amelle is closely followed by the ginger bird from Dr.Who and I’ll always have a place in my heart for Scarlett Johansson, especially after seeing the beautiful ‘Lost in Translation.’ (‘Snog her Bill! For god’s sake snog her!!’).

I can remember my first ever celebrity crush. I was watching Top of the Pops back in 1983 and the most amazing girl performed, with the most amazing voice. I was gone; totally mesmerised. She had me, hook, line and sinker. So who was it?

It was Boy George.

Confusing times.

Hello you. Thanks for dropping by. So what’s news? A big thank you if you came to Concorde 2 last Friday for ‘Dot Cotton’s Rock n’ Roll Bingo.’ Three brilliant bands, DJ’s and Dot Cotton herself, fag in hand, hosting the bingo; a surreal night and a huge success.

It didn’t come without its hiccups, namely we ran out of Bingo cards (thanks Moulsecomb Bingo Club for coming through) and with an hour to go there was no Dot. This could have ended in a riot but she duly turned up, almost regal-like, looked amazing and worked the crowd brilliantly.

She refused a hotel for the night (she can’t smoke in hotels) and she loved her rider of a bottle of red and a packet of fags. Not only that, she  stayed on to sign autographs and have pictures for over an hour and a half after the event, to confirm that she is indeed, a legend.

We raised over £1,000 for the MS Society and my friend Jennie Flynn, who suffers from the disease but more to the point we gave her a night she’ll never forget. We’re going to be back next year, with another celebrity guest hosting the Bingo and we’re already starting to approach potential successors to Dot’s crown of Bingo Queen. Watch this space.

We’ve got some great guests popping in to Juice Towers over the next couple of weeks, after recent visits from Maverick Sabre, James Morrison and Sugababes.  Frankie and Rochelle from The Saturdays are swinging by and Professor Green shall be gracing us with his presence the week after. Word.

There’s a whole load of Latest TV documentaries coming out over the week in a series of ‘Guy does..’ including the Hoosiers, UK Air Guitar Championships and Dot Cotton’s ‘Rock n’ Roll Bingo.’  The full Shakedown film which I co-hosted with the lovely Sarah Powell is also imminent. I’ll post these on facebook, twitter and on trees and fences in due course. My next documentary will feature a Brighton comedian and we hope to start shooting that next month.

On the comedy front, I’m hosting a whole load of stand-up gigs over the coming weeks. I’ve got a biggie at The Loft tomorrow night with a secret headliner (it’s not Jimmy Carr), Comedy Cooler at the Alibi on the 7^th, Express Comedy on the 12^th in Portslade and I’ve been asked to be the permanent host of CULT comedy at the Foragers in Hove, which I gladly accepted after being offered a goat. First date at CULT comedy is on October 25^th.

'You want Taxi?'

I’m really enjoying hosting the corporate sectors at the Albion. I’m normally in the East Stand during home games but recently got transferred (on a free) to the West for the Palace game and got to meet current and ex-players, along with Sir. Des Lynam, who is the only person in the world that can make a moustache look cool (apart from Hitler and Magnum P.I). It really is a magnificent place to be right now and I’ve no doubt that the club will be in the Premiership sooner rather than later. Good times at the Amex.

That’s my news. I’m going to the level now as a fun fair has descended. I shall be back after I have ruled the dodgems. I am King.

Speak soon x

So why is Dot Cotton coming down to Brighton? All in the name of charitee mate. Tomorrow’s extravaganza at Concorde 2 is all about raising money for the MS Society and my dear friend, Jennie Flynn. Jennie and I have enjoyed many nights on the town over the years and being an Irish lass, she was always up for maximum fun and the odd drink(understatement of the year). It was in 2009 that she became noticeably unsteady on her feet but we just put this down to her drinking and her love of partying. It wasn’t unusual to see Jenny fall to the floor whilst attempting some elaborate dance move and like any group of friends we just laughed it off, picked her up and carried on.

It wasn’t until later that year, as Jennie’s health started to deteriorate, that she was diagnosed with MS and suddenly it all made sense. In what was almost an overnight episode, Jenny went from fun-loving party girl, to someone restricted to her bed, losing her mobility as well as her sight. Despite this Jennie, remained positive and optimistic that something could be done but all the time, she was going downhill and her body was starting to give up the fight.

After much research and support from family and friends, it was discovered that there was a procedure in Poland that could help her. A condition called ‘chronic cerebrospinal venous insufficiency’ (CCSVI) http://www.ccsvi.co.uk/ has been identified as one of the principal causes of MS symptoms. It describes the compromised flow of blood in the veins draining the central nervous system. Through a simple procedure, these veins can be unblocked, significantly reducing or preventing altogether future MS symptoms.

In January, Jennie had the treatment done, with 100% blockage cleared in one vein and 70% in the other. Jennie came back a different girl; her eyesight had returned and there was a startling improvement in her mobility. I remember the joy she felt when she said she could put make-up on and do her hair in front of a mirror for the first time in months.

Since then, Jennie’s health has deteriorated again and we need to get her back to Warsaw to unblock the remaining vein and hope that this will improve her health and slow down the onslaught of MS.

My youngest brother was also diagnosed with MS back in 2002; a different type of MS to Jennie’s but just as devastating. Again, almost overnight, he lost all movement in his body and was rushed to hospital where the doctors tried to work out what was wrong with him. He was eventually diagnosed with the disease but thankfully fully recovered from the episode and although he has had a couple of episodes since, he leads a fully active lifestyle and continues to be positive about his life and what he can achieve. The shadow of MS is never to far away for him but to meet him, you’d never know.

He’s my brother and I love him but he’s also my hero and a true inspiration to me. Whenever I get pissed off with life and the shallow world of media, I look at my brother charging around the football pitch and remember the important things in life. I want to help my brother and I want to help Jennie and anyone else affected by this horrible disease.

This will cost money and this is why Dot is coming to Brighton, bless her Cotton’s.

See what I did there?

Thank you so much for your support, it means the world to me and I hope to see you down there tomorrow night x

Ever wondered what it was like being a Rock God? Well, get yourself a cup of tea, make yourself comfortable and read this ‘ere blog.

It’s great basically. You should do it. I did it on Friday at the UK Air Guitar Championships. Doing the radio and telly is great and performing comedy comes close but there’s nothing quite as good as being in a band and having an adoring crowd hanging off your every word. It’s the ultimate natural high. I’ve been in several bands in the nineties and I loved every minute of it. Not so keen on the rehearsing, the moving equipment, the promoting, in fact the music was pretty dire too; but I loved being on stage, I loved the attention and I loved getting the odd girl. Girls love a man on stage and that was my main motivation back in the day.

Twenty years on, I’m a married man and have to say ‘no’ to the endless stream of girls desperate to try my poached eggs in the morning but the dream of being a Rock God lives on. And that’s why I entered the UK Air Guitar Championships; in a cat suit, with a cape on, with more make up than Zsa Zsa Gabor.

It’s something I’ve always wanted to do but never had the opportunity due to other less Rock God commitments. Last Friday, however, was my time and ‘The Love Rod’ (like my stage name?) strode in to Concorde with one thing on my mind; actually two things. I need a beer and I want to leave this venue as UK Air Guitar Champion.

'Who wants to go home with me?'

The first round was fine. You choose a song and you rock out in front of hundreds of people for 90 seconds. I chose T-Rex’s ‘20^th Century Boy’ to go with my outfit (I was very Marc Bolan).

The second round was tougher; you’re put in a cage and judged on ‘technical ability.’ No dancing, no gimmicks, just you and your Air Guitar. You can’t choose a song either. You have to get what you’re given and I was given Bon Jovi’s ‘Dead or Alive.’ I closed my eyes and ‘did a Hendrix’ and played the guitar like a man possessed. And I sailed through.

The Audience were the judges (based on noise) and I had them in the palm of my hand. They were loving the Love Rod, I was through to the Semi-Final and I was so close now, I could smell the silverware. And it smelt good.

Next up, was ‘the duet round’ where you go one on one with another semi-finalist and I was up against the reigning Champion and she was good. She was very good. And she was very pretty. The Love Rod was in trouble. The crowd wanted her and despite playing the Air Guitar with my teeth, there was nothing I could do. She was through to the final and I was on my way home (after I’d packed up my air pedal, leads and amplifier).

I won’t bore you with who won; it’s too painful and I’m still hurting. But I’m going to sew my cat suit up (I split in the crotch area), learn a few new tricks and go back next year and win that trophy. Nothing, I say nothing, can stop me.

Right, got to go, I got Air rehearsals tonight.