Fear of the Anonymous

Forgive my paranoia but I have a small level of fear thanks to the comments posted on my Blogger page for yesterdays blog. The two comments left by Anonymous, who I assume is a Greek philosopher and the first sounds terrifyingly like they might be out to assassinate me on Saturday, and the second is the worst review I had in Edinburgh two years ago, with a link to the only bad review I got this year. It could be of course, that the first comment is lovely and sincere but I’m choosing to make my life more exciting than that and have hidden in my room with a view of the city, occasionally glancing out from the side of the window incase a laser sight appears. It doesn’t help that I’m staying in a hotel that used to be called the “Police Club’ and was primarily where members of the force used to stay, which means my room is probably full of bugs and taps and I don’t mean beetles and the ones in the sink. I’d be quite upset if the room was full of beetles. I’d probably be also quite disturbed if there were taps on all the walls, floor and ceiling. It would be like if Escher had focused on the plumbing aspects of building works. Luckily it has neither of those things and is just a lovely place to stay, even if the woman at the reception had crossed out my surname thinking it was gobbledegook. Unless she didn’t want anyone knowing I was staying here? Curiouser and curiouser? Although that wouldn’t explain all the backtracking she did when I re-wrote my name in capitals just to emphasise it was really my name. She then tried to sympathise by telling me how annoying it is when people call her Susan instead of Sue. I decided to just nod and agree rather than try and go into all six billion ways as to why thats not the same as deciding my surname sounds like jibberish. Either way I need to stop typing about this as I’ve realised I’ve given away where I’m staying and now the Greek philosopher will be able to hunt me down even more easily. It is Friday the 13th today. These sort of things may happen.

I bloody love the Stand in Edinburgh. It really is one of the best gigs ever ever. It has all the things you want a club to have: great room, great staff, lovely punters and beer. That’s it really. You don’t need a lot else. I mean obviously, a mic, lights and some comedians do help, but it has all those so they’re really doing very well. Last night’s show was a delight. The crowd were slightly judgemental at the top but then warmed up very quickly after someone exclaimed ‘yes, yes, I like that’ after one of my gags. I assume it was about my gag and not some sort of foreplay that was happening at the back. I love heckles like that. Not malicious in anyway, but oddly nice and demeaning all at once. That person has told me that they liked that gag, but also, perhaps unintentionally stated that they may not have liked any of them before that. See, I’m so being paranoid today? Its because I’ve had far too much time to myself. That’s the sort of things that happen. Things like going out this morning to get a coffee and instead returning with a DVD of Spiderman and his Amazing Friends. Things like completely forgetting that my body doesn’t agree with ‘sauce’ and getting a large chips and cheese covered in the stuff last night. I have since realised why, when said in a Scottish accent, it sounds like ‘SOS’, because it is clearly a cry for help. If it was that sort of blog, I’d describe how it exits in the same form as it goes in, but I wouldn’t want to turn this into some sort of puerile rant about poo. Yeah I just typed what I said I wasn’t going to type, and then made you think I hadn’t done it. I will go and high five myself in a childish celebration of my own trickery.

Not much else to tell today except that on the train up yesterday a man got on the train at Newcastle in just a tshirt and with no bag, jacket or jumper. Now everyone that boarded from all the stops London to Newcastle were all wearing winter clothes, and in Edinburgh everyone is wearing winter clothes despite it actually being really lovely sunny weather. I am worried about this as I hope all the locals don’t start to dry out. I may have to go round spraying them with rain water to keep them alive like beached whales. Anyway, I am led to believe that there really is some sort of special weather resilience that lies just around that region of the country. These are the sort of people that we should send to the Arctic for research. They wouldn’t need half the supplies anyone else would and can just parade around in pants next to all the penguins. Or polar bears. Which ever one it is that lives in the Arctic bit. Think its the polar bears, only on account I’ve never seen a penguin eat an arctic roll. I’ve never seen a polar bear eat one either, but you can imagine it cant you? Oh god I need some real people to converse with.

I’ve spent too long near the window now. I’m going to hide in the cupboard just in case.