A week and one day to go. It might not seem that far away for a lot of exciting things, but in terms of the Edinburgh festival, it still seems miles and miles away. It’s about this point where I really miss my own bed back at home. We had a discussion about beds last night as Danny has completely fallen in love with his bed in Edinburgh. Its bed love to a disturbing extent, where he has named it Lucille and only leaves it when absolutely necessary. Don’t get me wrong, the beds in this flat are good, but its not my bed and therefore not the best bed. Saying that, our bed at home is seriously awesome. It has that correct level of firmness and bounciness that beds needs. You can sink into it a bit, but if you lie down too quickly you don’t bounce into the ceiling. I haven’t named our bed but I really should. It deserves a name, and some sort of a title. Pehaps Bedward, the Bedminister. I will speak to Layla and discuss.
It was a lovely night last night. Staying in with all the crew, Tom, Nat, Danny and Eri. There was wine, I made sweet potato enchiladas and we eat ice cream. Temporarily it was like we weren’t at the fest and were just having a meal amongst friends. It was exactly like that in every way, except that we spent the whole night venting about the fringe. Who we thought should win things, who really shouldn’t win things, who’s a bit scary, who’s lovely, and the most common question on the Fringe every year, ‘why on earth are we doing this?’ Its good to be slightly self reflective as to why you’ve spent the best part of a year’s wages so you can work your arse off for a month while critics brutally criticise you for months and months of hard work. The Fringe chat descended into Tom’s game called ‘Jongluers’ where one person is the MC and the other has to shout heckles at them. The ‘MC’ has to retort with the first thing that comes into their head. I was not very good at this game, but Tom was clearly an expert. There was chat on the convenient surname of Usain Bolt, who got what GCSE’s (Nat got far too many A*’s) and Haagan Daz vs Ben and Jerry’s. It was brilliant. After all that chat and food I slept for 10 hours and now feel like a new T. Well a tired T that really wants to stay in bed all day, but a new T. As opposed to the old, even more tired T who forgot what a bed was. Don’t worry Bedward, I didn’t mean you.
My show yesterday was ace, and was aided by 4 late arriving people who had sadly been sent to the wrong gig for 10 minutes. Whilst trying not to be nasty, I explained to them there would be callbacks they would never understand and every time I did one, made them the butt of the joke by shouting how they hadn’t got a clue at them. This lovely show was followed up by doing Lemoncustard Comedy at the White Horse, which is a lovely little gig hosted by Dee Custance. One of the acts hadn’t turned up so I was allowed to do what I liked and just spent 20 minutes having a bit of a chat with the nice crowd. Two of them were from Birmingham and had seen me support Adam Bloom ages ago, which was really nice. Tried to do material they hadn’t heard before, but also tried not to do show material and ended up failing on both levels. Afterward they told me they hadn’t remembered my set from last October anyway, which was good. And also bad, as I clearly none of them were good enough to be memorable.
Another quiet day today. My show, followed by Comedy 4 Kids, followed by coming home and getting some sleep again. Its odd that I want to do this again. Maybe the Fringe is broken?
