Hello readers. I injured myself on stage last weekend. It's not the first time I've done this in my 17 years of stand-up but it is the first time I've bled uncontrollably from the fist.
In the past I've hurt myself landing on my back after somersaulting during a bouncy castle joke or by twisting an ankle impersonating a wounded pterodactyl, but this time I actually cut myself on a wall-hanging while performing backstroke like Michael Phelps.
It didn't hurt when it happened, but because my skin was cut on the knuckle region the bleeding didn't stop. I was only 10 minutes into my hour-long show so couldn't just walk off. I applied pressure and demanded some plasters from the venue staff.
Unfortunately, no one knew what plasters were. They call them Band-Aids in the States ... and everywhere else apparently. Why the hell do we call them plasters in New Zealand? Nice one, Kiwis; we have silly words for things that don't make sense to the rest of the world and meanwhile I'm bleeding.
Thankfully the audience found the entire scenario hilarious. I continued on with my act all the while holding my sore hand until "Band-Aids" arrived. Eventually they did arrive but after seeing them I wish they hadn't. They were bright blue! I mean who the hell wears blue plasters, I mean Band-Aids?
"Are these for Smurfs? No, they're much too big for smurfs. Oh I know who they're for. Sorry, I think there's been a mistake. I'm not controlling my genetically engineered Na'vi Avatar by remote at the moment. I'm a bloody human being! Literally!"
The next day I decided to cheer myself up by going to the movies. I skateboarded from my hotel to the local cinema and purchased an Imax ticket for Jack the Giant Slayer. I was quite excited to see this on the big screen but after I had passed through the ticket ripper checkpoint I was stopped by a young man in a suit.
"Sorry sir, you cannot bring the skateboard inside."
"What are you talking about?" I replied.
Then he went on to tell me the safety risks of a skateboard and how it's company policy that no skateboards are allowed in the building. I laughed and told him I wasn't about to ride the thing, I was there simply to watch a film. But this young suit was so caught up in bureaucratic red tape that he couldn't see the wood for the trees.
He eventually offered me a refund, which I refused. Instead, I took my skateboard across the road and lent it to Starbucks for a couple of hours. After the movie finished the man accosted me once more. This time though he said sorry and offered me two free Imax tickets.
"Did you enjoy the film?" he asked. "Yes, it was about a boy who took on corporate giants and won. You should see it some time!"