Surprisingly Down to Earth, and Very Funny

Surprisingly Down to Earth, and Very Funny
Limmy Limmy

The hysterical, shocking and incredibly intimate memoir from one of the most original and unique comedians alive today.Hello! I’m Brian Limond, aka Limmy. You might know me from Limmy’s Show. Or you might not know me at all. Don’t worry if you don’t.They asked me to write a book about mental health, because I sometimes talk about my mental health in tweets and interviews, like suicidal thoughts and anxiety, and what I’ve done to try and deal with it.I said to them, oh, I don’t know if I could fill a whole book with just that. But how’s about I write a general autobiography type of thing, and all the mental health stuff will naturally appear along the way? I could talk about growing up and slashing my wrist and taking acid all the time and getting done for car theft and feeling like a mad freak that would never amount to anything.And then how I made my own sketch show. I directed it and everything. Plus I’m a dad. I’m an adult. But I still feel like that mad freak from years ago. I still feel like chucking it all away, for a laugh.I asked them if they wanted me to write about all that, plus some other stuff. Like being an alky. And my sexual problems. Stuff like that.They said aye.So here it is.

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Copyright (#u07359cb5-6e6b-5e1e-912b-4a5c351dea6f)

Mudlark

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First published by Mudlark 2019

FIRST EDITION

© Brian Limond 2019

Cover layout design Lynn McGowan © HarperCollinsPublishers 2019

Cover photograph © Brian Limmond

Brian Limond asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work

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Source ISBN: 9780008294663

Ebook Edition © February 2019 ISBN: 9780008294687

Version: 2019-01-21

Dedication (#u07359cb5-6e6b-5e1e-912b-4a5c351dea6f)

Dedicated to Lynn and Daniel

Contents

Cover (#u5f0b08dc-deb2-53db-867d-a16b0330ac48)

Title Page (#udb57393f-a174-55b7-91da-37c5ae207a88)

Copyright (#u0a93d260-4398-593c-8eeb-a8b7c25c6c6e)

Dedication (#u61d82658-f469-5dc5-b7aa-460bdd4e87ae)

The Primary Years (#ud51997bf-a697-5feb-9b6e-8e0f9912b87f)

The Secondary Years (#u3616c134-a623-588e-9ece-54190dae4c50)

The Student Years (#litres_trial_promo)

The Work Years (#litres_trial_promo)

Comedy (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)

The Primary Years (#u07359cb5-6e6b-5e1e-912b-4a5c351dea6f)

Earliest Memory

Right, I’ll start at the beginning.

I was born on the 20th of October 1974. My mum was Jessie Limond, my dad was Billy Limond and my brother was David Limond. And I’m Brian Limond.

I grew up in a council estate on the south side of Glasgow, called Carnwadric. It was maybe a wee bit rough. Maybe. If there’s one thing I don’t want to do, it’s make out that my childhood was rougher than it was. Carnwadric was alright. It wasn’t like growing up in a slum, like one of those old photos of the Gorbals. If you want to see Carnwadric, you can google it. I grew up on Stanalane Street, have a look at that. Not rough at all. And in terms of how it felt living there, it didn’t feel as rough as some other places I’d heard of, like Govan or Easterhouse, these places where it sounded like everybody was slashing everybody.

But still, I think it was maybe a wee bit rough. It was just some of the things that happened.

One of my earliest memories of Carnwadric is something I saw when I was maybe six or seven. It isn’t my earliest memory, but it’s one that stands out.

There was a woman out in the street just outside my house, there on Stanalane Street. She was holding a wee boy’s arms behind his back, and she was telling another boy to hit him. The boy that she was holding had done something to her son, so she was giving her son a free hit, in front of everybody.

But I could see that her son didn’t want to do it. Instead of taking the opportunity to hook the other boy’s jaw, he just gave him a wee hit on his shoulder. Just a wee one. Like a tap.

His mum was like, ‘Hit his face!’

Her son gave the boy a wee tap on the face.

But she was like, ‘Harder!’

I could see that her son didn’t want to do it. He looked more upset than the boy he was hitting. His face was all red and he was teary-eyed. He wasn’t upset at the other boy, he wasn’t upset about whatever it was that started all this. He was upset because of his mum.

But he gave the boy a slap. A good one. Then the mum let the boy go, and dragged her son away up the road.

That’s one of my earliest memories.

A wee bit rough.