Its very difficult to kill time in Edinburgh. This is not just because its a concept and destroying it would annoy a lot of people. For a start there’d be no more birthdays, people would be late for everything and Doctor Who would be a tad pointless. Saying that, people also wouldn’t age and in fact it’d be impossible to be late for anything as time wouldn’t exist. And the Doctor might actually get some rest time for once. Well not rest ‘time’. Just rest whatever would be left. Bloody hell. I hope no one does kill time. Things’d get pretty complex. Anyway what I meant is that on most days at the fringe I have from whenever I get up to my show at 9.20 to fill an empty void of nothingness. Over the last week I have spread my minutes between meeting friends, going insane in the Cow Cafe and occasionally seeing other shows. Sometimes I’ve just sat around, but this is dangerous as it means I spend far too much time thinking and thinking generally leads to me trying to climb something or seeing if I am able to cutlery. So for my own health and safety its best I go do things.
Yesterday, whilst sitting around doing nothing, the thought occurred to me that despite however much I’m enjoying this fringe, we still have just over two weeks left of it. That thought penetrated my mind and sent tiny shockwaves of despair throughout my being like an electric shock, but not a bad one. Just the little one you get when you go into Top Man and you hold the metal stair banister and it zaps you. Similar to that, it doesn’t really hurt but it does set off various alarms as though tiny warnings that you are about to look at a whole load of clothes only realising none of them suit or fit you because you are old old old. Well this was like that. Only different. Completely different. What this was was a sudden urge to escape the fringe temporarily and so I raced down Princes Street, into Waterstones and bought myself some books. BOOM. Check me out Captain Intellectualisamasationalism. I thought if I can’t physically escape the fringe, I may as well mentally try. Now I’m not a big reader. Not just because I’m only 5’5″. Nor because I don’t read giant books. No, its usually just ‘cos I’m too busy doing things to read stuff. I want to change this though as there is nothing better than getting into a good book. Not literally. I mean unless it was a giant book, it’d be pretty hard and we’ve already noted that I don’t read those. But I couldn’t have sorted myself out more yesterday than by taking one of my new books to a comfy sofa in Brookes Bar and reading in the quiet for a couple of hours. For a while I was in Glenn David Gold’s ‘Sunnyside’ immersed in the 1940’s America and completely chilled.Then loads of comics turned up and where all noisey which gave me a ‘kick’ worse than in Inception and I gave up and left. Still it was nice while it lasted.
More reading shall happen today. Books I mean. Not just, you know, words and signs and stuff. Because if you count those then everyone is a big reader and that’s cheating. Although if anyone wants to have a competition about it then I’d like to point out I’ve read a lot of menus and signs since being here and so have probably won. I’ve also read peoples responses, a few emails and had some b-read. The last one is so tenuous. Sigh.
Some more book related things:
– Yesterday I saw Celebrity Autobiography. Micheal Uri is bloody amazing. They all were to be fair, with a rather stellar cast of Tiffany Stevenson, George Went, James Lance, Bridget Christie and some other people I haven’t got a clue about. But Michael Uri stole it when reading Tommy Lee’s autobiography. Brilliant show and a very novel idea. Novel. Geddit? Geddit? Sigh again.
– I also saw the excellent Jay Foreman’s show. He doesn’t have stuff about books in it. But there are words. Books have words. Therefore its all linked. Also a brilliant show and he has my favourite song about Sooty ever. Not that I’ve heard many. Or any. Except maybe Sue-Sue-Suedio by Phil Collins. Arf. Sigh. Triple Sigh. Shepherd’s Sigh.
– Audience Rating for Show 7: 4 Stars. Generally very good but a few poorly timed laughs where they were slightly off the beat. Occasional wilting though I will put this down to the room as they were clearly keeping strong. Expect something very promising from them next year. One audience member was wearing a Bananaman tshirt and reacted well throughout. I suggest he embarks on a solo career as a punter if he’s really serious about such things, as he’d clearly have a career in it.
– It is bloody funny adding ‘izzle’ to the ends of words all the time. Try it. Go on. Go onizzle. See? Ha. I’m Tiernanizzle Douiebizzle. Ha again. Ha times three.
– I didn’t drink at all yesterday. Yet still managed to act like I was drunk and make possibly the worst statement I’ve ever made in my life to Rosie and Matt in the loft bar. I blame Paul Byrne. He gave me chocolate earlier in the evening. Choclotizzle makes me batshitizzle.
– I saw Matt Blair’s first solo spot at the Fringe with his uke and a cheeky tune about a lady that don’t look so nice up close. He was great. Its here if you wanna listen to it:
Oh and when I hold a ukelele it looks like a normal guitar. FACTIZZLE.