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Hi there,
My name is Matthew Robin Fisher (the “Robin” is silent – it’s just pronounced “Matt Fisher”, in case you’re sat there trying to get your tongue round it) (as the actress said to the bishop). And, right, I’ll be honest, my mum told me to throw in that “actress said to the bishop” line when I asked her to proof-read this. Personally, I think it was fine without it. I think that opening sentence made its point, with just a subtle hint of sauciness. My mum, as you’d expect of her, said that you CAN’T write a sentence that involves the words “get your tongue round it” without following it up with “as the actress said to the bishop.” I’m pretty dubious about it myself. But she was right about Fiendish Feet yoghurts that time in the mid-90s, and I’m still trying to repay that debt, so I thought I’d include it here.
If you took issue with the joke, you can take it up with her, not me. I’m above suspicion. Her name is Renee and she lives in Dulwich, if you want to get in touch.
Anyway, those of you who are up on their internet phenomena/memes are probably aware of me already, and those of you who aren’t seriously need to start using the internet as a proper communication tool. What are you doing with your time? Going outside? Stop it. Get on YouTube now and watch my videos. I made a series of video diaries over the last few months, just because, if I’m honest, sometimes I feel so full of art that I worry that I might die, then burst. Or possibly burst, then die. I haven’t really thought about it that much. Probably burst, then die, I think that’s marginally more likely.
The truth is, I have so many strings to my bow that I was getting tangled up, and my bow looked like one of those massive concert harps that Joanna Newsom plays, only with at least two more strings even than that. So I decided I needed to bring my thoughts to the great British public via the great democratic medium of the information super-highway (Firefox). My videos ranged from hilarious examples of my stand-up comedy prowess, to some samples of my great musical talent (I’m currently in the planning stages of my eleventh studio album, and at some point this year I’m hoping to record my first). There was also some reflective philosophy, some astonishing mimicry, insightful social commentary, and some touching anecdotal stuff about my best friends, Amy Sergeant and Greg Salmacis. Amy’s just great, she’s like a happy apple that lives in my house. Every morning that I see her face makes me thinks “Forget the haters on YouTube. Today is going to be a good day.” I honestly don’t know what I’d do without her around, especially because we currently have this douche of a lodger called Melnyk hanging around the place like a bad smell. Amy keeps me balanced, I think, because I honestly believe that if it weren’t for her, I would have killed him by now, or at least snapped one of his Buddy Holly vinyls in two just to teach him a lesson. Greg’s great too, but he’s dead now, so I guess there’s no point going on about him (I know, right? Boo hoo hoo. I did plenty of that at the time, don’t worry, but I’m over it now, so we needn’t dwell).
Oh, lest we forget, those video diaries also served as the springboard for an unlikely new sex symbol, namely me. I say “unlikely,” because I’m constantly under the impression that my face is making a serious effort to get away from my body these days, either by inflating or just by slowly giving into gravity and sinking to the floor. I’m only young, but age has started to happen to me, which is pretty worrying. I’m certainly no longer that pale, haggard, Robert Pattinson-esque dreamboat that I was at about 16. Tragically, I didn’t have the confidence at 16 to go with my looks, and ended up complaining to a teacher every time a girl told me she thought I was handsome, and by the time I realised it was ok to be proud of what I had, I had lost it. As flies to wanton boys are we to the gods, and all that. Still, I was unprepared for the literal inundation (at least one per month) of emails from girls who had seen my videos and were blown away. “We love your videos,” they tended to say, “You’re so hot. We want to meet you.” Interestingly, they were all sourced from the same IP address, but the sender’s name was different every time. No matter, I don’t really understand the internet. Perhaps you’re reading this now as one of my female admirers – if so, welcome. What are you wearing?
And this brings me on to what I really want to say. For those of you simply dying for an opportunity to meet the one and only Matt Fisher live, in the flesh, and actually see what the guy can do, as well as potentially getting the opportunity to hook up with him later (I will be in the bar afterwards assessing the looks and personality of all the female audience members, and will be announcing the winner of the competition at about 11.00pm. The prize is self-explanatory), you are in luck! Amy told me that sometimes doing things exclusively through video can give you misleading responses, and that you get to really understand what’s funny when you do it live. So I’m branching out into live stand-up comedy by staging my own one-man show at the Tristan Bates Theatre! It’s sort of 50% stand-up, and 50% a demonstration of my other skills, which include impressions, drama coaching, dancing, ukulele, self-help, that kind of thing. Below is a sort of trailer thing I made with the help of Amy (and despite the help of Melnyk, who kind of gets in the way a few times), just showing you the general style of what to expect, as well as establishing a few ground rules. If you love comedy anywhere near as much as you love me, then you won’t want to miss out. Come on down and have yourselves a laugh. Oh, and bring a bowl to scoop the bits of brain into it at the end, because it will BLOW YOUR MIND!
“I Have Something To Say – An Evening With Matt Fisher” is at the Tristan Bates Theatre, Covent Garden, on Tuesday 13th December at 9.00pm. Tickets are £5.00. Hope to see you all there!