Like a Pair Of Pants

I’m going to keep this brief, like a pair of pants. I like that phrase, especially as I made it up. However, it doesn’t actually make sense. Pants are also known as briefs, not brief, so really it would be better if you said ‘keep this brief, like a case.’ Except cases are funny. Well headcases can be. Anyway, pants are funnier regardless so let’s just roll with that. I am writing today. I know that seems obvious because how on Earth would this blog appear if I didn’t write it? Its not as though I can just cough and it happens. I don’t throw a plate at the wall and the shattered pieces form words that transcend the internet and into blog form. No. Though I really wish I could both of those things. The coughing may be awkward when I have a cold and I start blogging 5-10 times a day minimum. And the plate thing would be a problem when I have nothing to left to eat on and have to pop to Ikea everytime I want to blog. Ahem, sorry. What I’m saying is that I need to write my Edinburgh show for Brighton tomorrow. Edinburgh in Brighton you say? Well yes, and no. I’ve got my solo shows tomorrow and Friday and it needs a damn good bit of work before anyone sees it. It will be bloody good though and I will include my thoughts on the election tomorrow incase any of you were worried I wouldn’t address the situation at all. I doubt you were. I mean, I can’t imagine any of you would be trembling with fear of the possibility I won’t at least mention its happening, but I thought I’d reassure you just incase. If you were really that concerned then I think you have issues and should probably sort your life out.

Here’s the link to the FB event for the Brighton shows, which in turn, has links to the tickets for the show on it:

MY SHOWS AT THE BRIGHTON FRINGE TOMORROW AND FRIDAY

But that’s all for blogging today as I’ve promised myself I will commit to mostly show writing all day. I would like to just say that last night’s Fat Tuesday was truly excellent and a big thank you not only to the acts who were ace, but also to Dr Stynenyov (if that’s how you spell it. It probably isn’t) who happened to be a scientist working on robot surgery. That, as far as I’m concerned, was the best job you could have had when sitting in an audience at a comedy gig. Bloody well done.

No semi-political ranting today. Just don’t forget to vote and that tomorrow, and maybe re-read yesterday’s blog if you’re considering voting Tory. Or, rather, just don’t read any of my blogs again. SLAM!

Proper blog tomorrow, unless (and very likely) I still haven’t written enough by then too.

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