D for Dalrymple has hit the big time.
Look. This is my ‘hitting the big time’ face. (It is also my ‘hitting the bottle’ face, but I expect the two will go hand in hand as my fame increases and my personal and professional relationships, inevitably, disintegrate.)
Tomorrow, Saturday 21 January 2012, I make my sparkling media début on internationally renowned* cultural vehicle** Kiss My Arts****.
Yes. This is happening.
I don’t know. I think my voice is stupid too. Also the things it says.
No, I probably can’t get out of it at this stage. Sorry.
In tomorrow’s show, the lovely and intelligent Carrie Plitt will be taking a look at women’s writing. This is the extent of my knowledge as to context: for my part, I’ll be taking a look at the feminist response to D for Dalrymple fave Caitlin Moran‘s most recent oeuvre, How To Be A Woman.
If this isn’t enough to tempt you, Carrie’s other guest is the intimidatingly talented Abigail Tarttelin, who is guaranteed to be funnier, cleverer and more coherent than me.
I have been told that this is not a competition, so my pre-emptive surrender wasn’t strictly necessary, but I shall be wearing my lucky pants regardless. Both pairs.
To work! I plan to spend the rest of the evening practising my ‘radio’ voice. It could be a long night: currently I sound like the bastard four-year-old offspring of Joanna Lumley and Lloyd Grossman.
Finally, the recognition I’ve always dreamed of.
** hipster radio show
*** it really is called Kiss My Arts