Sometimes, when it’s time for toilet, I like to do this thing with my hand. Like, even though it’s Number Ones, I sit down on the bowl, and then use the back of my hand to push my penis and testicles back so that they are in the same position as a woman’s weehole would be. Then I let my bladder release, and the dropping water makes the exact sound that a lady’s wee would make, to the untrained ear. I’m a bit of a Urination Maverick like that.
See? That’s the sort of thing I shouldn’t be doing on the internet, apparently. It’s bad business sense to associate your brand with any sort of profanity, scatological humour, controversial opinion; basically anything that might ‘offend’ the sort of people for whom Being Offended is a recreational joy. People judge you, you see; they have Straw Man arguments in their own brain which come to the conclusion that if you think a joke about raping clowns is funny, your new 18th Century Cookbook is going to be something that they won’t like. It’s not fair, but it is true. And truth is what agents and marketing people work with, unfortunately. Okay, marketing people actually work with lies, and agents work with Other People’s Talent… and Satan. But still. What I’m saying is: don’t ever expect to be allowed to be yourself, if you want to make money.
Even if you want to be a comedian, whose very job it is to make people laugh, you’d better make sure that you are making people laugh in the correct way. This only applies to you if you are successful of course. If you are someone writing books or doing stand-up and no one knows who the fuck you are, you can quite freely hold views like ‘I Wish Hitler Would Come Back And Sort Out All These Gays’; ‘Nine Eleven Was Pretty Small Scale Compared To That Whole Nanking Thing, Americans Should Shut Up,’ or even ‘The Greeks Didn’t Have A Problem With Raping Little Kids, I Don’t See Why I Have To Kill My Victims To Stop Them Squealing. Bloody Nanny State!’ But if you’re Paris Hilton or Galliano, you best watch your effing mouth, son.
I like being pseudo-puerile on the internet. I’m aware that not everyone ‘gets’ me. That’s totally okay. It’s a little annoying to know that there are people out there who take the more outlandish things I say (with tongue firmly in cheek) at face value, and think me some sort of imbecile, but that’s okay. It saves me the bother of having to get to know them long enough to realise that they’re retarded. Sorry, that they’re Superhumans. The problem is though, I do want to be successful. And with success comes a degree of fame, and with fame comes great responsibility. One day I might be asked to pen a children’s book for The Prince’s Trust, and all it will take is ONE NOSEY JOURNALIST from The Sun, and I’ll be finished. Think of anything I’ve said here; take it out of context; now, imagine it quoted in a story with a picture of me at my worst next to it (leering, tongue lolling, mid sneeze), with the headline : PRINCE’S PAL IN MADDY MCCANN SEX JOKE HORROR, and you’ll understand what I mean.
So it’s rein in the smut and the controversy, or risk never being signed by an agent or a publisher. Or be myself, and carry on with what I am doing; integrity intact; sound asleep every single night. A lone standard-bearer for those who like their humour a little darker; a bastion of hope for people who like jokes about dogs raping children; a man apart in the war against the sanitizing of our media, our movies and the printed word.
Until my next fucking broadband bill comes through the letterbox, obviously. Then I’ll be wiping my entire internet presence, converting to Christianity, and picketing my nearest abortion clinic with the rest of the moral majority. Yay money!!!!