Writing

I may as well go back to where I came from. Which I’d say is Birmingham, but the BNP says is Rawalpindi. Continue reading “Shazia’s Week”

I spent four hours driving up the motorway on Saturday night to do a show in Stockton-on-Tees. I was quite excited; I’d never been to Stockton before. Continue reading “Shazia’s Week”

My parents have always been slightly absurd. But now they have taken that absurdity to a whole new level. Continue reading “Shazia’s Week”

Recessions are the time when people have the most fun. A few days ago I got a call from a big TV company asking me if I would be so kind as to introduce a team of male strippers on stage at a theatre in Wolverhampton. Continue reading “Shazia’s Week”

I was walking into a 24-hour grocer’s in Crouch End on Saturday night, when I heard a gang of teenage girls running behind me. Obviously, I thought they were going to kill me, so I ran fast into the shop. Continue reading “Shazia’s Week”

Backstage at The Tonight Show With Jay Leno, I didn’t get to meet Barack Obama properly. Continue reading “Shazia’s Week”

I’m looking out of my apartment window and I can see the “Hollywood” sign embedded in the Hollywood Hills. It’s a million miles away from where I’m from. Continue reading “Shazia’s Week”

It would take Armageddon togive my mum an incentive to leave the house. She no longer seems to feel it’s necessary to go shopping, stand at bus stops or argue in the post office. Continue reading “Shazia’s Week”

Some people get ridiculously excited. On snow morning, someone sent me a picture of their car covered in snow. I can see pictures of cars with snow on the internet, on TV, in books. Continue reading “Shazia’s Week”

People are so excited about Obama becoming president that they’ve started naming things after him, like a school and a mountain. My local bakery has named a Black Forest gateau after him. They’ve called it the Obama Black Forest gateau. Continue reading “Shazia’s Week”

I had a call over Christmas from David Cohen, a journalist for the London Evening Standard. “Hi, do you remember me? I reviewed your Edinburgh Festival show a couple of years ago.” My first thought was, “Is this the idiot who gave me a shit review?” Continue reading “Shazia’s Week”

Nobody does recession like the Americans. Every street corner in New York has neon lights shouting, “Recession Special”. Continue reading “Shazia’s Week”

I’m in New York to do some appearances at the Zipper Theatre as part of an all-female show called Offensive Women. Continue reading “Shazia’s Week”

I’m in Pakistan, invited by the Rafi Peer Theatre Workshop in Lahore as part of its 25th festival of performing arts. Before I arrived, there were obviously concerns that I might not come back. Continue reading “Shazia’s Week”

I’m in America. I walked into a Hollywood office this afternoon and the first question someone asked me was, “Is it true that Gordon Brown has commented on a radio scandal in England?” “From what I’ve read, this seems to be true,” I replied. Continue reading “Shazia’s Week”

A few days ago a comedian friend of mine called me from LA to tell me that he was being sued. A member of the public was suing him for making jokes on the radio which involved African Americans. Continue reading “Shazia’s Week”

It’s been a historic week. O J Simpson has been found officially guilty. Sir Ian Blair has been found unofficially guilty. (I’m glad he’s left, though, because it means one less beige person may get shot this year.) Barack Obama has been linked to terrorism, again. It was my birthday. And I was sent to Torquay. Continue reading “Shazia’s Week”

This week I was the victim of another terrorist attack in London, which made none of the headlines, and I was asked to start the Tree-Athlon in Battersea Park on Saturday morning. This is a five-kilometre run to raise money to plant trees all over London and make it look more like the Bahamas, and less like a Poundshop car park. Continue reading “Shazia’s Week”

There is a bit of America in all of us. For some, it has forced its way in, and for others like myself it’s crept in, unbeknownst, in the middle of the night, and now won’t leave. Continue reading “Shazia’s Week”

Tonight is the last night of The Edinburgh Festival. It’s like the last day of school.You empty out your drawer taking home all your old pens and pencils and worry about going to the big school. Continue reading “Shazia’s Week”

I was up on stage showing my granny knickers to two hundred and fifty people. Continue reading “Shazia’s week”

Even my white friends wouldn’t risk having me perform at their wedding. Continue reading “Shazia’s week, The altar of humour”