Back To The ‘Burgh

This is a danger blog. By that I mean the train wifi is being more up and down than a bipolar lift and has already ruined several attempts at email productivity. So chances are, it will go out of its way to ruin my blog too. This is by no means the worst beginning to an Edinburgh I’ve ever had, but sadly after the not great year that all began with a cancelled train and standing for four hours in a boiling hot carriage, I’ve decided the first train journey is an indicator of what will follow. So this year I’ll fail to connect with anyone for more than a few minutes and be generally irritating. Or not.

Actually I can’t wait to get up there this year. This is that bit of me, that as always when beginning my annual Groundhog Day of waiting at the Kings Cross train station while Am Dram students prance around with far too much energy and bags of props, where I think ‘Oh no, here we go again.’ But actually I can’t wait to step off the train, and not just because its boiling hot. No, its because I want to see the castle and throw myself into the madness of the fringe for another year. I actually – and forgive the honesty and perhaps lack of gags in this blog – feel fairly pleased with this year’s show. Shock, gasp. I know. It feels like its a step up from last year’s and my final preview at the Compass yesterday went well which, touch wood, will hopefully mean at least a handful of people in Edinburgh won’t write horrible things about it on That is one of my many aims this year. Here are the rest:

1) A target.

Arf. JOKE. Albeit a shit one. See what I did? Do ya? Do ya? Aims? Target? Ba dum tish. Sigh.

Seriously, this year I’ve decided that firstly I’m going to try my best not to give a shit what critics think. I don’t want to know when they’re in, what they say, who they are, what their favourite biscuit is or anything about them. I’m going for the ‘fuck all that I’m going to enjoy the fringe.’ I give it three days till I see a two star review that says my show is ‘solid yet unspectacular’ or just ‘balls’ and then cry and want to go home. I also want to leave Edinburgh with more sets and less compereing. As much as you lot are lovely, I’m sick of talking people and quite want to talk at people for a while. Sounds horribly arrogant when I type it. That’s cos it is. My words are better than yours. Tee hee hee. I jest. ‘You jest what?’ Well done for proving my point.

I also would bloody love to do this show after Edinburgh whether it be at the Melbourne comedy festival or in the mirror to myself when no one else is around. The latter is far more likely, but hey ho. So we’ll see if any of those things happen. What I really don’t want is for nothing at all to happen and for my show just to trot along mostly unnoticed. That’s the big fear. Essentially I’m up against 2000 odd other shows (they aren’t all odd) and there is just as much chance that no one will know my show is on as there is anyone else’s. I’m praying this won’t be the case but if you see news reports of a small beardy man being arrested for dancing round the Royal Mile naked with nothing but his own posters stapled to his skin while he screams at passers by, you know its not going well.

Aside from my show, there’ll be the usual partying, eating at Suzie’s Wholefood Diner to gain some vitamins every now and then and getting to the last week and being unable to eat due to poverty but still somehow having enough money for beer. Main differences is that this year, I’m totally going to go running. Oh yes. And not just once, or when I’m late from getting form show to show. No, I aim to actually do a run round the Meadows at least 2-3 times a week. Or at least until I see my two star review and can’t get out of bed again due to depression. JOKE. And fear. General fear. This year is also the first year I’ve been single at the fringe. To some this may seem like ‘woah T’s gonna be the man about town’ but more likely it just means I’ll make my bed less and occasionally call up my friends drunk to tell them I love them instead of some poor unsuspecting girlfriend. They won’t mind. As long as I don’t try any phone sex chat.

But first, before all that, I have to survive this train journey. Already the one inevitable fact about my yearly north travels has occurred and I’ve boarded a train with at least two people I know which is nice. This year’s Edinburgh train crew is the lovely Carrie Marx and the equally as lovely if more hirsute Dave Gibson. I however, am ignoring both of them to be a total twat and listen to a recording of my own voice. It’s not even my show. Just me repeatedly telling me I love me. JOKE. God these jokes are bad. I really hope this isn’t another indicator of the month to come. Sigh.

Last thing. If you’re heading to the Fringe, here are some shows I would totally recommend you buy tickets for asap:

1) ME.

JOKE. *cries*

Start again with shows I’ve honestly really enjoyed seeing previews of:

Stuart Goldsmith, Tom Craine, Nat Luurtsema, Greg Davies, Shappi Khorsandi, Richard Herring, Stewart Lee, Bridget Christie, Paul Sinha, Josie Long, Loretta Maine, Carey Marx, Pete Johansson, Carl Donnelly, Jon Richardson, Kevin Eldon, Tara Flynn, Stephen Carlin.

Go see all of them. Now.

The two shows I will aim to see, but probably won’t because I never see anything are:

Jeremy Lion and Gutted.

So you should go see all of them too.