Not feeling too well today, which is all self inflicted. You know that your life has hit an all time low when you find yourself in a Gala Casino at 5.30am drinking whiskey that tastes as thought it’s been distilled in a urinal. It’s amazing how in a city such as Glasgow the only establishment that is open for boozing after 3am is the sort of place where grey faced gambling addicts drink watered down bile in a venue with too many bright lights and a carpet that would easily disguise people’s vomit within its haphazard pattern. As it was all there was, our troup of five brave alcoholics threw aside all taste and dignity, until at 5.30am a moment of clarity hit us, we realised where we were and all stumbled back. We should’ve known that would happen when at 5ish a very drunk man asked us if he could take our spare seat. Assuming he meant take it elsewhere, we said yes and so he plonked himself down by us and then rattled on about how he hated being an RE teacher. We agreed and told him it was a shit job until eventually he fell asleep in his own hands and we all laughed at his stupid sleeping face and left him by himself as we all snuck away.
It was Friday the 13th yesterday but I gave superstition a massive smack in the chops by having a really good day. For a start I caught a plane. Take that 13 fearers! A plane! You know why I did those things? Because 13 being a unlucky number is a pile of lies. In fact back in bygone pagan times 13 was a magic number, and that was why there were always 13 witches in a coven and why, later on in popular fiction, Jesus had 12 disciples and himself. Although he wasn’t that lucky with the old nails and stuff so maybe they were onto something. Being a staunch atheist and a cynic I just see the 13th as another sodding day that will probably be shit like all the rest of them.
It was a pretty good day though. My easyjet flight was bearable, then the days events rolled out from then on rather nicely. The cab driver who took me from the airport to my hotel actually had interesting chat, neither racist or angry. Then I ran straight to meet the Comedy Demon folk where we interviewed Marcus Birdman and Paul Sinha which was much fun, even though they consistently corrected my grammar. That never happened to Parky. From there we grabbed food that I didn’t pay for, then met my friend Robin who walked with me to my 1st gig. The walk was much much further than we thought it would be but it meant we actually caught up a bit which was nice. Then gigs 1 to 3 were all great. 2 was the best, and in fact it was so good it made 3 and 1 pale in comparison. There is nothing like the peak you get when you go from a room with 40 nice people to a room with 300 great people. Then there is nothing quite like the anti-climax you get when you go from those 300 great people to 25 tired and drunk people. The last gig was fun, but you could sense that everyone, whilst enjoying the show, would have enjoyed a snooze even more. I love being only half appreciated. What was really great was that youtube people filmed the last gig. Not the second gig with 300 great people, but the second gig. Expect a clip of me being mediocre online soon.
I stayed at the last gig to watch Paul Sinha rip it with his new gags, all of which was good stuff and if its any indication of his Edinburgh show this year, it will be brilliant. He actually made most of the crowd wake up and have fun, although I think this could have been because they all had a nice snooze while I was on to recharge. Then drinking started and after a nice bar, followed by standing in our hotel lobby shouting at the staff for not having the bar open, we ended up at the casino of grot with less people than we started with but a strongly alcohol driven team nonetheless.
And now, I feel tired and a tad destroyed. This will no doubt be helped by having to do Comedy 4 Kids in an hour. There really is nothing like getting screamed at by children while your head is pounding and you feel like being sick. Must leave the blog here, lots more to tell, but I am using the Comedy Demon laptop in Rich’s room which is needed for filming stuff. If that wasn’t a tad awkward anyway, the cleaner just walked in and gave us a look which said ‘gay couple’, then noticed the camera on the side. Still it means she won’t disturb Rich too early tomorrow morning for check out.
I will leave you with my favourite text I have had in ages. At one point we bumped into post Mooners Maxwell, Tim Fitzhigham and Alex from the Store. They had already consumed vast amounts and we tried to persuade them to come with us to our hotel bar as Alex was staying there, but we somehow lost them on the way. Texting Alex to find out where he’d got to, I received this:
‘Thistle with Irish people. They are feral.’
That was the last we heard of him.
