I can’t seem to sleep in anymore. I’m not sure whether time in Spain has done this or if I have suddenly got old. I have noticed previously that old people don’t tend to sleep anywhere near as much as younger people. The older you get the less sleep you need it seems. My nan runs on about 4 hours a night. She doesn’t run as such. That would be mad, but also highly impressive. She always says she’s tired and I can’t help but wonder if thats because she only sleeps 4 hours a night. I’m scared that by waking up at 10am during Edinburgh time is an indication that I’m starting to need less sleep. Maybe I’ve used up too much of my allocated life sleep? Perhaps my nan spent most of her 20s asleep and is now paying the price? I like sleep and often think its underrated. As a kid I would get so excited about staying up late or not sleeping at all because it felt really cool. In fact, in retrospect, all those times I got sent to bed early should’ve been the moment for joy. Nowadays if I ever have reason to get more sleep I’d consider having some sort of street party to celebrate. Although that in turn would cause me to have less sleep which would be bad. Problem is, I also love parties and this is why today, with a lack of sleep after being at a party, I feel a bit shite.
Yesterday was my last day of nothingness, before my first show today. I wanted to spend it revising my show in my head, but instead I did the useful thing of wandering around drinking free booze, eating free food and seeing a couple of other people’s shows. Firstly to mention the shows as there is little to say about both other than they were both brilliant. Go and see Kiosk of Champions at the Pleasance Dome and Ginger and Black at the Pleasance Hut. Go on. Hurry up. But buy tickets to my show first. Manners. Secondly to mention the parties. For the cheapskates like myself, the first week of Edinburgh is a joy of free things. Free or very cheap shows, free drinks, free food, free speech and er free Nelson Mandela. Well, not the last two maybe. But definitely the others. There were several launch parties yesterday but I focused my attention on the Underbelly launch party first, which had two free drinks per person, some people giving out brownies and free burgers. I felt they had done quite well with all this and tried my best to partake in all areas of nicities. Happened to see Rhys Darby for the first time since he’s hit the big screen. I mean films, not getting angry with a big telly. He was as friendly and awesome as he always used to be which was nice to know. I’ve rarely met anyone that gets all famous and acts like an arse but due to general media I always assume its an instant thing with everyone. When the money hits that bank account the mood changes. To be fair, mine is the opposite. I become an arsehole when the money leaves my bank account. So I suppose it only stands to reason that people may get nicer when they get famous. After the Udderbelly there was some general loitering at the Pleasance Courtyard. Edinburgh is the only place where loitering without intent is actually fun. Anywhere else and I would be standing around feeling all a bit lonesome and bored but in Edinburgh there is an increasingly high chance you will bump into someone you know on a very consistent basis and start having a chat. If you don’t, its highly possible no one wants to talk to you and is making a point of walking around you. The Pleasance Courtyard is a good place to see if this is the case. Stand in the middle and if everyone walks around you leaving a circle of emptiness, its you. Normally however, it is a hub of social activity.
There were some lovely chats with some comics I haven’t worked with for a while and also some random chat with random people. This I enjoy almost more. My favourite was a bunch of four people who were trying to debate whether to see Nick Doody’s show or not. I told them they should as Nick’s ace. They started questioning Nick on what it was about and as they did one of the group who was both older, more drunk and slightly more aggressive looking than the others just suddenly pointed at me and in a thick Scottish drawl said ‘who’s this wee little fucker eh?’ Rather than fearing for my life I gave a big grin and told him I was a comedian. He smiled and pointed again and said ‘you’re a cheeky wee fucker aren’t ya?’, which made me laugh and then he said ‘I’ve got my eye on yooooo, alreet?’, then laughed, turned around and walked into a post. HIs friend then told me about a show they were going to see about a man who nails his balls to some wood. I then gave them a flyer for my show. I really hope they don’t attend.
Following that was the Just The Tonic party where the only free booze was vodka and gin, two substances I don’t love, but accept that they are booze and they were free so drank both alternately and then had beer. If beer then wine is fine, and wine then beer is queer, then beer, then gin, then vodka, then gin, then vodka, then gin, then beer is what? A mess. Probably. I didn’t think I was, but then again I was persuaded to dance a bit, which means I must’ve been. It was all a bit good though. And now consequently I feel shit. So this morning is now going to be spent cramming words into my head. By saying them aloud not by shoving a book in my ears. That would hurt. Need a long shower too which, until yesterday wasn’t possible. The not so nice shower in the flat worked, but the nice one didn’t. After everyone had spent time searching around for a switch to make it hot, like the other shower has, I gave up and called the landlady, leaving her a long message explainning what we had done and what wasn’t working. I received an answer phone message back in a very sweet voice that politely just said ‘you need to turn the boiler on’. I am officially a fool and have had at last 20 manly points deducted. I might have to go cut down a tree or hunt a moose just to knock it up again.
Before I leave this blog and do some show workage, I walked past a flyerer on the Royal Mile yesterday who tried to hand me a flyer whilst saying ‘Moose Wrestling?’ I walked straight past as I’m programmed to do, before realising what he’d said and doing a double take and taking one of him. I don’t know how good or bad the show is, but I have definitely been persuaded to think about it. If you are flyering, remember such tactics.
Here’s the flyer: