Went to The BBC on Millbank yesterday to make a recording for a programme on The World Service about ties. Wrote down my thoughts, printed them out on a suitably nice sheet of paper. Put on a suit (in suitable harmony with the paper) and went down there in the sun, quite excited by prospect of a visit to the BBC.

Run of The Millbank

Shouldn't have been too excited, or even dressed up. Was quite a weird experience. Reception were accepting  me. Lead me through a pretty normal looking news room office, into a tiny studio with a microphone and some headphones. Was told to put them on and speak, and was left alone. Met no-one except the receptionist. My handler who I'd been liaising with thus far was in the headphones and I could speak to her too but in a different building. They always do that she said. We just began. It was odd. Glad I had made notes. Quite happy with the words, I think, although not madly slick. Wasn't trying to be slick, tried to be honest and informed. Wonder if should have gone for slick.

Wish I hadn't said fuck so many times too in a way. I'm just kidding Mother. It was only the once. Did do a knob joke to sign off with, honest. It'a valid one, but perhaps should have referred to first rule of entertainment: never do a knob joke on the BBC World Service. I'll let you lot know when the programme's coming out and we can see what they left in. I left 'the studio' without a soul saying goodbye or looking up bar the receptionist, bless her.

Stubbs out.

So alone. "This is Tom Stubbs broadcasting on behalf of the World Service...knob."
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