You how that snow keeps going on about how its ruining everything and how its the big snow on campus and all that? Well last night snow took it in the face as I drove myself and Juliet Myers all the way from London into the snowy depths of Bristol and back and we didn’t die or skid or anything. There was even a bit on the way back where we had to drive at 30mph past a lorry that had skidded across two of the lanes and got mashed up, but we just drove on past like the Fonz when he drives past something.
The drive there was one of the loveliest drives ever. There was a point past Swindon when all of a sudden everything was snowy and it was a bit like entering Narnia. Well if they built a highway through the cupboard. Then as we got nearer Bristol there was an amazing red sunset over snowy hills. We arrived in Bristol feeling all happy. Which was good because the gig we went too was all rather lovely too. Normally I wouldnt drive to Bristol for less than a substantial amount (I have standards you know. Those standards are 50p and a pie or I don’t leave the flat), but last night (and tonight too) I agreed to do a paid half spot at the Comedybox Bristol because I hear its a lovely club and I have never gigged for Steve (he who what runs it) before. It was indeed a lovely club. There was a scary 20 mins about an hour before the show, where there was a hen-do of 29 downstairs and all of us feared their shouty, drunken prescence at the gig. Luckily they were only downstairs because their flight to Newcastle had been cancelled. Part of me wonders if Newcastle had missed having 3% of its usual weekend slag intake or if in fact as a city it felt strangely sober and cleansed and didnt know why.
Instead the crowd at the gig were great. Stuart Goldsmith MC’d like a pro. When I say pro I mean prostitute, but a very funny, good MCing prostitute. I went on feeling all good about it when suddenly my throat decided to die and I became all croaky and snotty on stage. I had made several precautions against this earlier involving nose blowing and sudafed, but in the lights these had no effect and I stumbled my way through 15 mins of things quite adequately but sounding a bit like the Godfather. I managed to screw up one of my lines by focusing more on needing liquid to stop my throat feeling like a desert, but other than that it all seemed good. Juliet had a top set too and then we scampered back to Londinium to avoid lorries before Alun Cochrane no doubt rocked it.
Today is all about writing tomorrow’s show. I’m feeling a lot better about it than I was before, but still feel like it hasn’t got much of a point to it. I’m going to have to give in and say that as long as its competent enough for tomorrow and the LCF then I have several months before Edinburgh to make it hella good. I will have to make sure I don’t get to the week before my first preview without writing anything like the lazy arse I am.
Off to Bristol again tonight for much merriment and road trickery once again. Anyone want to borrow my cold until later?
