The Man With A Long Chin's Diary


Kids Entertainer


11 March 1998 - KIDS ENTERTAINER

I've got a new job as a children's entertainer called Kaptain Kornball. It hasn't been cheap, but I've bought some really great props.

My favourite is a brown paper bag full of flour, which I shall burst over the head of unruly children. I also have a red plastic whistle, which I shall blow at irregular intervals, and a basket, in which I shall place shoes and stuff to offer to the children.

12 March 1998 - KIDS ENTERTAINER

Entertaining children isn't the big laugh you'd expect. Some of these little brats are so ungrateful, you wouldn't believe it.

Take my booking last night for instance. Before arriving, I'd popped in the butcher's to pick myself up some pork tongue. Anyway, at the house, I asked the birthday boy to reach into my magic sack to retrieve a special gift. How was I to know that I'd gotten my pork tongue and the boy's present mixed up? The noise he made was appalling.

13 March 1998 - KIDS ENTERTAINER

I'm endeavouring to broaden the range of my act by including magic tricks. One of my tricks is called The Power Of Scrone. I project 8mm cine footage of myself sitting motionless in an armchair onto a screen, and order the children to chant the word "Scrone" repeatedly. I then hide behind the screen.

At the correct moment, I burst through the screen and rush forward towards the children, knocking the projector onto the floor. It's a kind of magic!


I'm getting quite disillusioned with my life as a childrens' entertainer. If I get one more parent having a go at me for swearing when I set my trousers on fire, I shall go mad.

Why can't these people realise that the combination of fire and profanity is going to leave these kids with a far more significant memory than something like Pingu? All I'm trying to do is entertain, but these squares just don't wanna know.


I have come to the conclusion that my venture into entertainment has been a failure due to my audience. The youths constant crying as I leap about waving my fists has put me completely out of my stride.

Thus I am compelled to aim for an older and more discerning audience. I intend to perform much the same routine as I have thus far, but I intend to pepper it with four-letter words, and project powerful adult images onto my buttocks.

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