Jessica Johnson - Actors Show reel - 2014/15

                                          http://youtu.be/DhAxFsXYpqY

Energy

Its not because I'm a Mam that I don't always look glam,

Its a simple decision to not give a damn.

I might occasionally pluck and trim,

Eyelashes glued,

Lipsick used.

But -

I could not be arsed to do this every day,

I don't even own a hair brush. 

I mean, what more can I say!

I remember most days to put on deodorant,

To not stink all my friends away with my O natural odors. 

I obviously change my underwear,

Bath and shower daily,

But time wasted using straighteners and curlers,

Applying make up for hours.

No -

Thats just fucking silly!  

Although -

I really do admire these glamorous nine to fivers,

When everydays a film premier,

Every pavement, a red carpet.

Sometimes, I imagine I could be like them.

Wear high heels to go food shopping,

Get up at 5 am.

Clean, cook and watch telly, head to toe in French Connection,

Stylish, pristine, polished,

A picture of perfection.

Not a hair out of place,

Not a freckle left unaltered.

But I just don't have the energy,

To be that bloody gorgeous.

I like to slob out,

Keep toasty warm,

Let my knicker beard go astray.

No......

I don't have energy for that all pampering, 

At least not everyday!

Vintage Pink Lane: Poetry & Performance

I Cant Tell You

 I cant tell you how it felt,
 To have the house to myself,
 For an hour and a half,
 To pause.
 No one talking,
 Or listening,
 No rings, bleeps or singing,
 No telly blaring,
 No noise.
 

North East Rising at Northern Stage: Review - by Bridget McClean The Journal

North East Rising at Northern Stage: Review - The Journal

You could say the Geordie stereotype of recent times is hard to budge but Rowan McCabe does it with admirable aplomb in his debut show.

An intimate venue with a jumble of mis-matched seats, combined with Rowan’s laid-back attitude, makes you feel you could be at the pub with him and his friends.

He moves seamlessly from hilarious anecdote to poignant poem and back again, all in an easy, comfortable manner.

The aim of North East Rising is primarily to dispel what he feels is the unfair portrayal of the North East.

Among those singled out as main culprits are Geordie Shore and the Guardian’s article comparing Newcastle to the desolate Detroit.

His take on Geordie Shore is hilarious. At one point he likens the stars of the show to tangerine-coloured psychopaths and Newcastle as a playground for oompa loompas.

He tells the stories of what he describes as his quest to find the essence of the North East – a cultural identity, if you will.

These compelling tales, mixed with flashes of self-deprecating humour, make for an easy watch. He held the audience’s attention throughout.

His mission to find the true heart of the region’s culture is enlivened by his energetic performance of poetry and laugh-out-loud satire, with a few pauses for thought.

We are offered an uncanny Cheryl Cole impression, an impersonation of ‘Toon hero’ Joseph Swan (he invented an incandescent lightbulb) and a gangster rap about stotties.

He included some slightly unconventional North East characters, including Pat Tabram, more commonly known as ‘the cannabis gran’.

And there was a guest appearance from Tony the Fridge, the fridge-carrying runner, who read a poem he had written himself.

Support came from Alix Alixandra, a singer-songwriter with a knack for a catchy melody who sang of the modern day troubles of Tinder and Buzzfeed, and Jess Johnson whose hilarious, explosive poems are not for the faint-hearted.

by Bridget McClean

Pink Lane Poetry & Performance

Cougar

What did you just call me?
You - little - shit!
Is that a pint of Cow n Gate your drinking?
Growing up milk.
Aye,
I think your nappy needs changing son,
Or maybe its your patter that stinks,
Was that meant as a compliment?
A chat up line?
You prick!
Now listen closely pet lamb,
I didn't ask for this chat,
You skid marked yourself over here,
Giving it all that.
But before I finish this drink,
Ill impart a little advice,
This is my watering hole,
My city,
My night!
So take that Freshers attitude,
And that awful stench of Lynx,
That horrible, HORRIBLE rape'y T-shirt,
And your herbal highs that you bought with your bag of chips,
And git the fuck the away from me,
Before I deck you one,
I'll destroy little man,
You'll be on the next train home.
Go on.....
Mush.....
Cause even your mates are laughing at you,
Call me a Cougar!
Youre lucky -
If my whiskey wasn't so nice I'd swill you!