Hello gang.

There has been a number of occasions when my sense of humour has got me into all sorts of trouble regarding both clients and punters. Here are some examples.

1. Whilst recording a CD entitled "The Winter Collection" with the musical director of the Royal Shakespeare Company I asked my client for the name of a particular track we were working on. He told me it was called "Cold Calling". "Oho" I replied. "No doubt a song about a double glazing salesman". He called me a cunt. The cunt.

2. I had just finished the first session with a folk babe called Saffron when I told her she had a great name but that it was a shame that she hadn't married Brian Walden. She rebuffed my gag with an icy glare that could have frozen the nads off a mammoth. In hindsight, maybe it wasn't such a good idea to make a joke about heterosexual marriage to someone decked out in pink Doc Martins, orange dungarees and purple crew cut. She never returned.

3. The occasion on which I asked the client what he was going to do with his new track "Girl In A Dress". He revealed that it was merely as a Christmas present for friends and family but that he wanted to couple it with another track to lengthen the CD a bit. I suggested he write a new song entitled "Man In A Truss" and he reacted as though I had just said "Your wife. I hear she's not into anal but heavily into double-anal. Can I help in any way?"

4. Just as he was about to leave, renowned French horn player Dave Lee indicated he would be interested in recording a CD of covers but was undecided as to what material to choose. I told him that he should do an album of Fran Healy songs and call it "Dave Lee Plays Travis". He never got back in touch.

5. There I was, performing a few numbers on the piano at The Grey Lady Music Lounge, when I noticed a couple engaged in a romantic meal for two on the other side of the room. It reminded me of Valentine's Day at The Grey Lady, when all the music-loving regulars had been barred in favour of a Noah's Ark style munch-in. On that occasion, the atmosphere was like a morgue as the place was packed with cardboard cut-outs oozing with all the effervescence of a rat-infested barrel of scrumpy desperately trying to salvage their disintegrating marriages with a meaningless bowl of pasta. So on this particular occasion I burst into that ol' Casablanca tear jerker "As Time Goes By" with a narrative of "mmmm, what greater emotion can there be than true love itself? Other than the sight of watching Liverpool lift another European Cup? My advice to you two lovebirds over there on table six is this. When it all goes horribly wrong, at least you'll be able to look into each other's eyes and say "Well, we'll always have The Grey Lady..."

They reacted in a thoroughly unamused fashion. I mean, some people. Talk about having no sense of humour....

Hoss.