This blog is late. Much later than I intended. I went out for what was meant to be 30 minutes to pick up some giant pictures of cheese and men wearing monocles on expensive bits of card so I can use them for one 30 second joke in my Edinburgh show, and I ended up going round to my parents house to move boxes for three hours. I did not expect the latter bit and now my arms hurt. My parents are getting a new kitchen put in. Instead of putting it in the room where the old kitchen is, they are putting it in a different room and taking the old kitchen away and putting something else there. I don’t know why people do these sort of things. I’m sure it’ll all look lovely but when something is one place I don’t get why you would take it out that place and put it in another place. Layla does this a lot. I often come home to find furniture in different places and arrangements, only for her to decide it looked better the first time round and move it all back a day later. Its really lucky I’m not blind or I would constantly be walking into things. To be fair, despite my full 20/20 vision I still end up walking into things. I think I may just be an idiot. So what my parents kitchen shuffle means is that lots of things in the soon-to-be-kitchen need to no longer be there. This includes about 20 odd boxes of books and various other heavy things, which this loving son carried up three flights of stairs for three hours. My arms now hate me, my legs are fairly angry, while my stomach doesn’t know what all the fuss is about as it got to eat a homemade lunch. Homemade lunches are, as far as I’m concerned, a very good payment for most things. When I say most things, I mean helping family or friends. If I did gigs and only got paid lunch I think I’d be very poor and massively fat, neither of which are good things. Though I do wonder if certain career payment options like that do exist as I’ve definitely seen a lot of people who demonstrate both those qualities.
Its my final Edinburgh preview tonight. I wish I had a few more in, but me and Layla are having a mini-holiday next week before I then head up to Edinburgh so there is no time to fit further gigs in. It definitely still needs work and I’m cutting this blog fairly short today in order to do some of it. I have had a certain level of confidence instilled in me after last night’s show at Fat Tuesday. An unfortunate set of circumstances meant that Stephen K Amos had to go on first, swapping around the usual comedy hierarchical order of the night. It is generally the act on the tellybox who goes on last while the act who just owns a telly who goes on first. We had a sell out crowd and about half were not regulars, so I thought that after Stephen had been on, they would probably all leave. Amos’s show was great and he completely stormed it, making me squirm with nerves more than a worm having ten heart attacks. It still bothers me that worms have ten hearts. It should make them the most lovable creatures on the planet yet they just look disgusting. No one will ever really love a worm. Maybe that’s why it has ten hearts, to deal with heartbreak easier as their mates reject them again and again for not having a face. It could also be evolutions way of helping the worm adapt to kids cutting them up.
After the interval I was completely shocked by the return of all but about 7 of the crowd. They had stayed. I felt so happy by this that I made a cheap joke about Amos being a ‘great support act’ and from then on they were on my side. It was brilliant. As you may have noticed before, when gigs go well it makes for tedious writing so I will leave it there. Lots of people were very lovely about it all and a mention must be made to Jon (@MasieyJon) and Adelie (@Aroldite) who had brought me a gift of a Bjorn Borg headband and some fortune cookies. The headband is for squash playing and is its Bjorn Borg it means hopefully now I will be able to play squash like a tennis pro. I have since realise this is nowhere near as good as playing squash like a squash champion, but it has also made me realise that I should get Tom Craine a headband from a famous fisherman or bowels champion and that way I’ll still have the upper hand. After the show Layla, Mat, my agent Brett and myself all indulged in a fortune cookie. Mine said ‘The higher they rise, the harder they fall’. I hope the use of ‘they’ means someone else and in which case I will keep a look out for the street performers in Edinburgh when they balance on stuff just incase. Either that or Michael McIntyre’s about to cuss someone’s granddaughter on their answerphone.
As I typed, last show tonight. Would love you to be there. Yes you. Its at the Hen and Chickens in Islington at 7.30. Be there or, er, don’t be there. Its only those two options. You can’t partially be there. Or be there a bit. It just isn’t possible. Sorry.