It is still raining. Its been raining since I arrived in Ireland and its yet to stop. Not even for a bit. Just relentless downpour. In a way, I admire the weather. If I rained that often, that consistently, I’d need a few minutes breather here and there. The cloud equivalent of a fag break. A fog break if you will. This weather however, doesn’t seem to need it. Galway is far more intent on proving it has all the water than letting up for a second to allow the sun to have a say. In this beautiful miniature city they hoard not only shedloads of rain, but also a canal, a river and the sea. Take into account the bottled and running water and some might say they were being greedy about their H2O supplies while other parts of the world have severe drought. I say let them have it. Its a brilliant place and they deserve all the water they like if they want it. Were you to ever dispute just how ace Galway is, the toilet graffiti I witnessed only an hour ago proves such things. Someone had written ‘ No One Cares’ in scrawly letters on the cubicle door. Underneath written in capitals was ‘I DO!’ and a big smiley face. Take that Banksy, you may be making political and artistic statements, but here in Galway the Samaritans help people via toilet doors.
Despite how much I’ve been enjoying it here, last night’s gig was a toughie. I haven’t struggled with a crowd like that for ages, but a combination of poor weather, a recent comedy festival, a huge student demo and Halloween, meant there were only a handful of people there compared to usual figures. This of course meant everyone felt slightly more self conscious than before and ultimately no one wanted to respond to or speak to me at any point of the compereing apart from 5 girls studying law who talked not only to me but each other throughout the entire show. I also forgot how difficult it is compereing somewhere that’s not in the UK. Whilst so many of the references are the same here in Ireland, I would slip up every now and then and say something that referred to the audience as British or along those lines. This didn’t do me any favours. Despite how much I’d like to believe that my act is performed as though its a fresh thought every time, when they aren’t responding and you churn out lines with inappropriate words to your environment, that its so hugely a script in my brain. Still free drinks vouchers helped as did a night of drunken debauchery finishing at 5am after being persuaded to try buckfast. I’m not sure how I became convinced to do this but I’m certain now that its named after what a horse would do if you stuck it in its nosebag. I’m pleased I did it though as now I can be sure I will never ever drink it ever again. Its as though someone’s poured canderel in port. Truly vile. No I’m not sure why I did it and yes, whatever standard of human being I was before, its definitely been lowered substantially. I’m not ashamed. Much.
Doing an hour tonight at the students union which should be much fun, then heading back to Roisin Dubh to hopefully catch God Is An Astronaut. Never heard or seen them before but on the basis of their name I’m hooked already. To be fair it doesn’t really matter what they are like, I will no doubt be drunk again on the unfortunately named Galway Hooker, which believe me, is constantly awkward to ask for.
Last note as I’m in desperate need of an afternoon sleepfest: We didn’t get our flat sadly. The search continues for somewhere nice to live. If it doesn’t happen soon then I will just give up, and never sleep, therefore not needing to live anywhere. I will be like Cain from Kung Fu, only instead of walking the world barefoot in search of justice, I will probably just mosey around a bit and generally be in the way. Unless it’s raining that is. Then I’ll be on your sofa.