Everyone @ Chortle

Hello! Welcome to the all-new John Robins’ Blog for Edinburgh 2008! Now featuring less despair! Mild amusement! And edited shenanigans!

But that’s not all! I am proud to introduce the all-new John Robins as well!

I had written a far more bleak and self examinatory opening to the blog, but that was before the unveiling of the all new John Robins. By Jon Richardson’s reckoning we’re on the sixth ‘all new John Robins’ or John Robins Mk VII as I refer to him, but this one is here to stay. The others were just inventions, false epiphanies following regrettable incidents, but oh no, not this bad boy!

The old John Robins got very drunk last night and was a total/slight cunt/ass-hat, depending on whose version of events you believe.... In my version I look a lot more handsome, so let’s stick with that one. So, John Robins Mk VII doesn’t drink or rub people up the wrong way. I say try not rubbing people at all! Now that’s the new John Robins talking!

Sorry for writing my name so many times, I’m not entirely comfortable with it myself, but you get the picture.

When I’m sober I’m remarkably self-conscious in company (see last years blog entry concerning the all you can eat Chinese). But alcohol is not the cure, so some new tactic is required. I’ve not tried Red Bull Cola yet so I’m expecting some pretty big things

Our tech today took six minutes, leaving us with two hours and fifty-four minutes to spare. The Baby Belly Three seems nice, but wetter than I’d hoped. In fact, not having water drip on the audience is something I like about most venues. It’s the sort of place you can imagine catching a Victorian disease like rickets or chillblaines. Afterwards Carl and I sat in the C-Soco Urban Garden. They have a skate park and a lot of sand there, which seems needlessly annoying to clean up. I’d go as far as saying that sand and water are the two things I look for least at a comedy gig, but what do I know?

I’m living with professional giggler Mr Matt Forde, incessant wearer of hats Mr Dan Nightingale and the very special Mr Damion Larkin. What more could a man want?!

Much more to follow, this is just to let you know it’s all on.

Day one of flyering. I have quickly remembered how much of a facist I am about who does and doesn't receive flyers from me. I'm sure the idea is
to get bums on seats, and tickets bought, but here are a list of the people I will not give a flyer to:

Anyone with children - I am not a child hater, but our show is not for them or their parents. Or their parents friends.

Anyone who doesn't speak English - They wont understand the show. And I'm racist. No I'm not, but there is nothing worse than a crowd who doesnt
understand your show because they don't know the language. Except maybe a crowd who doesn't understand the show who do speak English. Or perhaps
a crowd of people who throw axes at you because they think you're racist.

Anyone really really old - Cant have people dying during the show. Or sleeping. But mostly dying.

Anyone who looks like they might punch me if I flyer them - Sometimes I risk it in the hope that it will brighten up their day. Other times, like today, I
realise they have arms wider then my head/ scary scary scars/ blood stains on their tshirt/ half a live bat in their mouth and I just know to steer clear of them

Anyone who has a company pass - You're safe. For now.

Anyone who is actually from Edinburgh - They hate us, they really really do. We've arrived in the city and made it a mess. We deserve the hate.

So if you are any of the above then well done, I will leave you alone. Otherwise I apologise for the shamless self whoring I will be doing from now till
the end of fringeness.

Other interesting points of today:

There is a puddle on Cowgate that you should not stand by. Today I did, wondering why there was such a large puddle in the road and how that would
probably cause a soaking. Curiosity as they say, soaked the Douieb. Not once, but twice. Luckily, some passers by saw it and laughed so much they took a flyer and
will now come to the show. Tragedy = comedy.

Saw the Real Daniel O'Donnell show tonight at the Pleasance. Damn good show and the best intro line I've heard in a while. Go see.

Tomorrow the shows begin and I have four to do in one day. I'm sure that while booking them all in it seemed like a great idea, however now it seems like it will be a day of hell. I may well die before week one is over.....

As someone who spends about a fair part of his week working on my club in Brighton (the Komedia), I'm always aware - sometimes too aware - just how much work it is to get an audience into a show. Thankfully at Komedia we have a ten year reputation and an enviable venue and location and that helps get 1000+ people through the doors each weekend. But the main reason why this happens is that there aren't another 800 comedy shows also on at the same time, fighting for the same audience.

Which may seem an obvious statement, but in Edinburgh, you don't have that luxury. So, to make sure show and audience may actually meet eachother, you rely on your foot soldiers - the flyering team - to go out there and push, push, push. In the early stages of your Edinburgh career it's considered the done thing to join them on the pavements, regardless of how demeaning it might feel. I still raise a wry smile when I remember the expression on Steve K Amos's face, flyering on the Royal Mile for the big value show at Cafe Royale back in 1998. You've never seen pissed-off like it.

I'm guessing Steve doesn't flyer that much these days (and to be fair, neither do I) but even he turned up at our 'meet and greet' night when Bound and Gagged (the producers - from now known as 'B&G') made sure the acts and their flyering team got to know eachother prior to kick off. I'm totally aware of how important this is - no matter how impartial they attempt to be, the gang will only put their heart and soul into promoting something where they like both the act and the show itself, but I find this gig as tough as any Saturday late show.

Firstly, each year the flyering team seem to get younger. They aren't; but at 35 I'm nearly double the age of half of them (18 and 19) and so that day isn't far off at all. And this year, Nigel Klarfeld (head of B&G) has elected to pick about 15 girls - half of them drama students. Even though they're studying towards a job not too dissimilar to my own, I just scratch my head as to what we might have in common to talk about. Small talk with an 18 year old can't be far off 'grooming'.

And secondly, like a surprising number of comedians, I find 'social occasions' uncomfortable and difficult to manage. I always thought I was in the minority for this - but it turns out I'm not alone. Jon Richardson (not even with B&G) had turned up for a quick drink and his shoulders were practically at ear-height from the awkwardness of it all. However, there were exceptions. I was watching in awe as the real Edinburgh pro's, like Lucy Porter, glided effortlessly from group to group wowing and charming different flyerers and making them all feel like long-term personal friends. I'm years off that skill.

Thankfully though, I had nothing to worry about. This year's group are so wildly enthusiastic and positive they could probably revive dead puppies just by smiling at them. I'm hopeful they can squeeze a few more punters through my doors. Here's a few pics from the do, with a full range of act comfort zones; from Nick Doody (camera shy) to Paddy Lennox (barely able to restrain his sexpesting urges surrounded by young girls (hence the branding)) all the way up to Tom Craine, who could only repress his sexual urges by kissing me.


A genuinely camera-shy Nick Doody


Maff Brown and Ian Stone, who were able to control themselves.


Paddy Lennox, who was on the verge of doing something bad. So we branded him as a warning.


The lovely Abbey and Tom Craine, who had to hold this pose for about 45 long, long, seconds while the flash recharged. The key phrase here is 'uncomfy'.


Some of the flyerers. Most are called Amy, though there's a Bernadette and a Laura IIRC.


Eva and Cat. If I've got that wrong, I imagine they'll spam my facebook fanpage with swearies.

Stephen

Our first day in Edinburgh, and our producer Kev F makes us watch him on BBC 1's The One Show...

Hey kids, do you want to lose all faith in your show before you start its run at the festival? Then why not try doing a tech run? You may have all the
confidence in the world about your month at the fringe, but sure enough the four hours you spend trying to make all the lights and sound work
alongside the funny is a guaranteed way to knock you down a peg or five.

Its a common symptom and runs along with the theatre's code of a crap dress rehearsal meaning a great first show. Theatre sayings are an odd thing, and have so far
never worked for me. Not mentioning the Scottish play is easy unless you are in Macbeth in which case its damn near impossible. Not wishing someone
good luck before a show is fine to do, if you want everyone to think you are a cold hearted non-caring shit. OK, those are only two, but I'm sure the others are lies too.

Today's tech gave us problems that were all mistakes from before we made it to the fringe. One of our sound clips wasn't mixed properly and now sounds
toss. According to the massively geeky tech man it was to do with gain, or girth or something beginning with g. To be honest his chat was so dull and nerd-
tastic that it could have been goiter or gorilla. I truly did not want to know. A geek tech is usually a good thing, because you know that those years of solitary
confinement and Star Trek will mean they have a better grasp of a lighting and sound board than anyone that has friends.

All in all though, it wasn't too bad. All the problems can be fixed by Thursday if we are really organised. List of things includes buying a beard, some elastic,
a cake, sorting sound clips and carrying a lifelike silicon stillborn baby to the venue. Quite how a stillborn can look lifelike I'm not sure, but the horror of such
a prop negates the need to think such things.

Other highlight of today - I almost bought a book, but I didn't. I did buy a plastic ninja sword. I think intellectually I made the right decision.

One guest spot to do tomorrow and the soullessness of flyering begins! Roll on the fringe!

I am now chez Fringe – drove into a very foggy Edinburgh on Monday evening, via the very definition of ‘plenty of stops’ (as parents continue to advise). Here they are in all their glory:

- Left Guildford on Sunday afternoon
- Stopped in near Bedford to pick up a keyboard
- Stopped in Newark to do a gig at ‘New Wine’ festival. It went rather nicely.
- Drove onto Sheffield and stayed the night there, chez Days Inn. More bearable than I thought, for a roadside motel.
- Monday Breakfast near Leeds
- Stopped in Newcastle to see The Dark Knight, which was excellent, and I’m no comic book movie fan. Heath Ledger was great. Oscar for him, I reckon.
- Checked my email in a McDonald’s in Berwick-upon-Tweed. Bizarre that McD’s now do free wireless at some outlets – just didn’t seem right surrounded by kids, eating a Big Mac, firing up my laptop.
- Arrived in Edinburgh Monday night.

Found my accommodation – an odd room near South Bridge (which is quite central), where the kitchen and bathroom is all part of the one big bedroom. It’s very ‘studio’. A bit soulless to be honest, but I’m only here for a week, as to save money I’ve 3 different accommodations for a week each. I must enjoy the centralness of this while it lasts.

The city doesn’t seem ready for the festival yet. There are very few posters up, the Royal Mile contains only one street performer, I drove past my venue last week to try and drop off props but I didn’t even recognise it as a venue – it was just a street. Even walking down the street today, the amount of locals here is vastly more than I’m used to. I guess they’ll mostly be buggering off on their holidays at the end of the week, when it becomes unbearably artistic. What’s amusing at the moment are the coachloads of tourists who have clearly misjudged their visits – there are loads of them, all reading fringe guides, staring at the only street-performer they can find, piling into Buffet King to work out what to do now they’ve realised the festival doesn’t start till Thursday.

Hello, we are The Scottish Falsetto Sock Puppet Theatre.
- And so am I.
And so is he. And we have been given permission to write an official Edinburgh Chortle blog for the first time! Hooray. We don't have to keep sticking it up on "Comedy You Made", but we probably will anyway. So, we're setting off for Edinburgh now. But first we took a quick break in Weston Super Mare (click and the video will play)...

I regularly get asked if I still get nervous going on stage. Well, I used to - all the time - my first two years were so wracked with nerves that my favourite bit of every show was the bit when I left (and on half of the occasions, that sentiment was shared by the audience). But then I found the solution - not 'breathing exercises', necking a few drinks or any sort of meditation - monotony. Gigging near enough every night made the process of going on stage feel almost ordinary, and the nerves got fed up of being ignored and went off to sulk.

However, I will still from time to time get nervous - when I'm going to get reviewed; when there are important people in the audience; and when I've invested a large amount of time, effort and expense in what I'm doing. And therefore, by ticking all 3 boxes, Edinburgh typically reinvokes those open-spot emotions, and with some force too.

So with this being my 6th Fringe, I was hoping that repetition would help dull those jitters, and therefore on arriving yesterday I went off and did all the things I typically do on arriving in Edinburgh to see if re-establishing a routine will help calm my fears for the next four weeks, of which I have many. In fact, my need for routine was so great I even decided to drive up past the angel of the North even though my in-car traffic management thing was telling me the road was jammed. Familiarity: Check.



So after arriving at the flat (which I've stayed in before - check) and unpacking and making myself a peppermint tea using the weird brown-tinged water only Edinburgh locals think is clean (check) I went for a walk, bumping into my tech from last year (check) and putting my head round the doors of my favourite haunts (check). I'm even performing in the same room, the Pleasance Upstairs, at the same time, 6pm. (Double check). So far, the only indication you'd have that this was 2008 was the fact that half the roads have been cut up with tram tracks and that between every Starbucks, someone seems to have built a Starbucks.

So far, so normal. I nipped by the Pleasance Courtyard where the place was still a building site (check - it always is even with just 48 hours to go). I had a mild panic when I saw a building had suddenly sprouted proper air-conditioning, but relaxed on realising this was the box office portakabins.



Thankfully the main rooms will still be roasting hot and sweltering even on muggy days, so no break from the norm for me to contend with there - phew. In every sense.

Heading on to the Royal Mile, I even stopped for a burger just down and opposite the fringe office, before completing my lap of nostalgia, and I was already feeling chilled with familiarity. This was going to be a fantastic routine break from the old routine.



But then, I stupidly put my head round the door of the fringe office. Except I couldn't, because it was closed. The ticket problem here - which was recently upgraded from problem, to calamity, and then crisis - has now developed into a full blown state of emergency. No tickets for sale (as per the websites) and the office would only be open the following day for collections - assuming those tickets could be printed - or even found. A few phonecalls to people in the know has revealed the full horror of the ticketing nightmare; the fringe still can't take nearly all orders, the website is failing, and only the venue's own offices can deal with the sales, and not always either. That's all well and good if you're with the big four, but for some venues, no fringe box office equals no box office whatsoever. And there's a very real rumour going around that sales in June have been lost from some of the systems. This could actually shut down whole venues, it's that bad, I'm not exaggerating.

It is now just 24 hours until my first show and I have no idea how many tickets I have sold, and those ever-present internal neuroses I'd almost managed to placate has found this fact a perfect springboard to get those pre-fest nerves jangling again in full effect. Bugger. The woman I stumbled across painting the 'self-service box office' sign may end up having to use those skills to draw those tickets when they fail to be printed, ordered, or collated. No wonder the ticket guys and gals have the best aircon this year, they're performing the trickiest gig of the lot.



Stephen

If the above phrase is true then I am truly in for the worst Edinburgh festival known to humankind. Luckily today has already been a damn sight better
but yesterday truly made the term 'Road to Hell' eat its own face and cry about life in front of its friends at someone else's party.

Usually I rave about trains. As someone who spends far too much of life sitting in traffic on motorways wishing I had a monster truck or a gadget car
that has extendo-wheels, trains are normally those few hours of solace where I can sit comfortably, letting someone else do the driving while I watch
sheep happily regurgitating in a field outside the window. Yesterday though, National Express ruined a large portion of my life that I will never get
back to the extent where I would happily pollute the earth tirelessly if I can ensure I will never endure such utter despair. After queueing (yes queuing
for a train. The world is wrong) for 30 minutes, we were told 2 mins before boarding that the train was cancelled. What then followed was the closest
people have been to animals as train punter fought train punter for space on the following three trains as backlogs of passengers decided it was almost
worth losing limbs just to get to their destination as early as possible.

In the end we (the Tea and Cake posse) shared 3 seats between four in first class. Due to lack of space to rehearse lines we instead resorted to banter and
doing puzzles in the newspaper, which encouraged other members of the carriage to join in with answers. Similar to evacuations during the war,
but also not really similar at all, our tragic event had brought people together which meant for the first time ever I finished a crossword in the Independent. To be
fair I'd never done a crossword in the Independent before, but that's not the point.

On top of all this pain, my laptop also died yesterday, which is why this daily blog has not yet happened daily. This was the laptop that had all the sound
effects for our show on it. The laptop that had all the scripts on it, and the laptop that meant I could change my facebook status between shows.
I managed to take it to a repair shop which means it will now be 7 -10 days before I have to stop using Sam's laptop. Obviously these Apple people have no concept
of emergency. Here is a picture of me being very sad while repair man was bored of his eyes will the dullness of his tedious job.

This was not the best of days.

Luckily today has already taken a massive turn for the best. Waking up in our flat this morning I realised just how good it is. Unlike last year's flat, this one is
actually near everything and doesn't have a lonely psycho as a landlord. Its been nice to head down a tad early and take in the city before its filled with screaming
flyerers, stilt walkers, sh*tty American students and general mayhem. Although at the moment its eerily quiet. No posters are up, no hustle and bustle and no
cow head attached to the body of the Uddebelly which means it looks like a giant purple farmyard accident. Its the calm before the storm. After yesterdays madness its very much appreciated. Things can only get better, and if they don't, I will sue National Express.

Quick points:

I finally met Sean Grant today who I will be doing a show with for a month. He is funny and ace so all good. Not sure what I would have done if he was tedious
and not ace, but luckily do not need to worry.

Quorn Scotch Eggs do taste like pork.

Ed at the Underbelly has no idea how to make veggie burgers.

Bringing a bottle of water on stage can become a 5 minute talking point.

More blogs tomorrow hopefully and I promise it will have substance!

Damn it, now I just look like an idiot. My link's been deleted but the blog still goes up on the main page. Not that anyone cares. I shall do a little dance now. Bye

I've got deleted off the main page of Chortle, which is fair enough, as I don't think I've actually posted anything in about a year.
But the wicked thing is, my blog itself doesn't seem to have been deleted, which means I can continue it for my own private amusement, like most things in my life.
Like thinking.

In fact, I think so much of the time blogs end up being written so much with an audience / reader in mind that they cease to be what I think they should really be - which is thoughts typed on a little screen (or a big screen if you are rich and have a fancy computer).

So. Hi there.

I've been writing songs recently. I'm trying to get my act together (literally and figuratively) and start a monthly comedy night, but I keep being tired and falling asleep instead. It simply won't do. It's also tricky to find the balance between a venue that charges £50,000 plus 99% of the ticket price, and one where it's cheap but I fear I may be mauled to death by large red-faced men with beer-stained man boobs.

I love that my blog hasn't been deleted! So happy!

I HAVE A LITTLE FRIEND CALLED DAVE NOW.

(I didn't mean to write that in capitals, I just knocked the button on by accident).

Dave actually belongs to the people in the flat upstairs, but he comes to visit to scrounge for food and do his impression of a cat (he does this quite well, it entertains me for many hours). Clever Dave, so good at looking like a cat.

We had to sell Peggy - did I mention that before? Well, we did. Turns out a car in London is a bad and expensive idea, let alone a car that feels like travelling inside a small tin can and that makes disturbing noises and doesn't like it when you try to turn corners or reverse or drive faster than 40 miles an hour. Poor Peggy.

I must go - I need to see if posting this actually works before I spend ages writing it.

Love to no one (as in, no one will read this as it's now a secret blog) xx

Sorry once again for total lack of blog. As explained before it is the Edinburgh lead-up. Only three days till I head across the border where I hear the weather is nicely rainy and cold. Good to know my expectations wont be let down then. I promise that once I get there you shall once again all receive daily bloggage and updates of the Fringe madness. So until then here be a brief rundown of the more interesting aspects of my life since last blog. I shall give each section headings so that it seems like a shitty article in the Daily Mail.

CAMP BESTIVAL

I headed up to this delightful mini-festival last weekend for some gig action. Whilst I was looking forward to it, there was slight disheartenment knowing that Latitude was going on at the same time with a far more mega comedy line-up. Latitude smatitude though, as it was a damn good weekend overall. Highlights include watching Matt Reed's pop up tent not pop back down when we had to leave (not so easy now is it? hahahah), insulting a burlesque dancer, eating tiny cucumber sandwiches, seeing the biggest pig ever (seriously, it was the size of a bear), DJ Barry Peters, and JJ Whitehead trying to form a pick-pocketing circle out of the kids in the front row of the comedy tent.

Downsides were: a sun burnt nose, someone I know talking to me all the way through the only act I wanted to see, and going on an exercise bike that charged your phone, only to slog for 20 mins and not even gain a bar of battery. Suckfest.

Both nights I did were a lot of fun though and props to the Donnelly, Martin, Reed and Dixon who made it all bearable. Best line: Chris Martin's name for a camp superhero - Wolverqueen. Lovely work.

RUG SITTING

Last night I did Terry Saunders bloody lovely gig 'Sitting On A Rug' in Brighton. Rather than follow a normal gig format, the first half is stand-up sets, but the second half is the comics sitting on stage and having a chat. Tried some new bits in the set bit, 50% of which worked and 50% of which sucked massively. Also I wrote a proper joke. However it is a verbal gag, but please do ask me when you see me cos I'm hella proud.

On journey home Kevin Shepherd and I devised new types of comedy shows for Terry to pilot. Best idea was 'Odd Laughter In Places.' Just someone manically laughing in inappropriate places. Much opportunity for fun to be had. Or not.

On the way to meet Kevin and Terry I had to get a train during rush hour. In a mere 30 seconds as the doors closed and my face was pressed into someone's sweaty back, I realised how much I never ever wish to return to rush hour commuting. I think its the closest humans get to being treated like animals only without the dog biscuits and stroking.

TEA (AND CAKE) TIME

This show is so close to being ready it almost hurts in the face. We finally nailed the scene that we so hadn't nailed before and its all just tiny tiny bits that we have to sort before we do the first show next Thursday. Next Thursday? Arrrrrrgh!! Typing it makes it all the more scary.

Today we bought costume. We had no idea what the costume would be and so it took 7 hours in the West End going through what I can only describe as the bit of Inferno that Dante forgot to leave in. Primark is quite possibly the worst shop in the world and not just because it makes third world children make all its clothes. On a much less moral level its like some sort of overheated battle field where everyone that has ever been on Jeremy Kyle fights over a £2.50 polo shirt. Luckily I only have to go there once a year when Edinburgh costume is needed otherwise I think it would start to give me the compulsion to kill.

Strangely despite the fact that its such a terrible place, people (including my girlfriend) seem to see it as a truly wonderful place. I can only put this down to people liking a lot of truly horrible things. I will never understand how Ikea, Soulja Boy or Nazis every got popular, but they did and it again proves that people are dickheads.

We are still on the hunt for someone to be in a bear suit in a show for the last 30 seconds of our show. We've got a few people booked in but desperately need a volunteer for July 31st. Sadly the person doing it doesn't really get anything out of it, apart from getting to wear a damn cool bear suit. To be fair, what else would you want in life? If you are up for it, especially on the 31st, please let me know.

ROSIE AND BELLA

Our cats now have a cat flap and cant work out for the life of them how to use it. We have to leave it propped open or they cant work out how to push the flap bit. I've tried physically pushing them through it but they use peaceful protest tactics and just flop as still as possible so they cant fit through. I'm starting to think they might well be the first ever special needs cats. Today Rosie spent five minutes hissing at herself in the mirror. That's just stupid.

Right that's all for now. Sorry if its not particularly insightful or witty but at the moment my brain is filled with trying to do new gags for the stand-up and bits for the sketch which means that all other times I am reserving the funny. Frankly I'm miserable, but its all for a good cause. :-)

Will resume all writings from Sunday onwards!

I haven't blogged in a week or so, as I've been busier than I can recall ever being. I've had an Edinburgh show to write, and a sitcom script to rewrite and send off, and a wedding to plan, and a house to buy. Four things that you should probably dedicate a good month to each, and I haven't allowed myself that luxury.

I'll just talk about Edinburgh here, cos the other things are all at least partly under wraps. And my, July can be a rollercoaster month. Two days ago I had a lovely preview show in Bedford. Then last night a not-so-lovely one in Brighton. So it's very tricky when I'm banking so much on each show - trying several new bits specifically that night - to judge what's working and what isn't.

Last night for instance was pitched as an Edinburgh preview show, and introduced as such by me, but being the middle of the party bit of Brighton at 6:30 on a Saturday night, we had a few groups there seeing this as the start of their big whoop-whoop night out, so a hen do and a too-cool-for-school birthday group were there. Not quite the forgiving arts-centrey audience that I probably could have done with. I'm ready for this cos the show is lots of me trying new things, so it's always going to be a gamble, and at some previews it's paid off. It largely worked last night, but with that sort of party-party crowd where only one person had the idea to come to the comedy and the rest followed dutifully, all it takes is one or two less polished bits and they lose their interest. To give them their credit, bless that lovely hen do for being nice throughout.

This year's show is introduced as being about me leaving my musical comfort zones - ie. stop listening to the stuff I normally do and try some styles I'm not normally into. But it's expanded to be about leaving comfort zones in a way I'd never intended: Somehow it now contains 3 songs, and I've never sung professionally on stage in my life, before Bedford two nights ago.

But I'm not sure the songs are working - a shame, having spent ages writing them and begging friends to record them as backing tracks. Hmm. Is it that they're not funny enough? Or that they're just a change of pace from my normal stand-up and the audience find it hard to adjust? Do I just need more confidence with the performance of them? Do they need cutting completely? Or trimming to a verse or two rather than six? Or a bit of choreography? It's at times like this I think I should have had a director. So I don't know. If anyone would like to give me direction on this without having even seen/heard the songs, feel free to just pick one of the questions above as being what you think I need to do with it. I am more than happy to take random direction from someone who hasn't even seen the show. Well it's cheaper than getting a real director...

Oh, and since my last blog with my big surreal to-do list, you'll be pleased to know I've ticked off all those things, apart from 'Buy a whistle'. That should be easy. Thought about getting on Ebay for one to save money, then I thought, "Second-hand whistles... Maybe some things are best bought new."

Well, I've just lost an hour's worth of blog, clicking the 'save' button which crashed the blogging software as it tried to save what I wrote.

I'll try the blog entry again tomorrow. It was quite interesting, so hopefully will be again, when my red mist about losing it all has subsided. Moral of this story: cut and paste it into notepad and save it there instead - web browsers are not your friend.

That red mist is somewhat prophetic as my Edinburgh preview at Fat Tuesday tonight had all the notes printed in red. My Hewlett Packd-up printer decided to run out of black ink when printing out the script and I could only get it done by turning the text red. If you saw my performance tonight and was wondering why it was so angry, that's the reason. Before going on stage Phil Nichol warned me that he'd done that before - highlighting important notes in red - and found the red spotlight 'wash' on stage rendered them invisible. Thankfully, no such problems here.



Still, not hugely annoyed as my debut on Radio 4's political animal went out tonight and I got a healthy large chunk of the airtime. Very cleverly edited and good to see how radio editors are able to take out chunks of your set-up that you always thought was essential, but clearly, isn't. You can hear me alongside Chris Addison and David Cross (yes he of Arrested Development fame) alongside Andy Zaltzman and John Oliver here.

Yesterday I got up at 4am, today I'm off to bed at 3:45 am. I'm already on Edinburgh time it appears.

Stephen

Edinburgh 2008 - Sleep, interrupted.

I've just woken up at 4am, dreaming about my show . I'd like to believe that this counts as 'rehearsing' but unfortunately I wasn't reciting the lines to this year's performance, so I'm not sure that qualifies. Which is a pity, as my aversion to rehearsing has now got so great that I sometimes mistakenly refer to it as 'revising'. As someone who gave up schooling at 17, I last did any form of revision over half my life ago so the whole creative process must be waking some dormant memory, and not a good one at that.

So, I'm blogging again, and hopefully this time for nearly every day in the run up to, and during, this year's festival. I'll also be including some pictures and maybe even some video, courtesy of the very expensive and yet strangely inflexable hard-disk drive based camcorder I bought from Hong Kong last autumn. I'm always dead impressed by those comedians who now how to edit video at home and stuff their own showreels and stand-up segements onto YouTube (I always have to get someone else to do it for me) so I can't guarantee that it'll work, or have audio, or be synced, or not just be 3 minutes of green lines. I feel immense guilt for abusing my time management; so when I'm doing anything OTHER than working on my Edinburgh show even when at the festival itself (and that includes time spent blogging) if a part of my show falls flat or I get my words muddled up, be prepared for me to blame that on a nicely edited video sequence that I shot outside the Meadows for no discernable reason (other than giving me an excuse to say why bits of my show have gone pear shaped).

Looking through last year's (and the previous year's) blog, I realise the first thing I do is a 'catch up', of where I was, where I am now, and what's happened inbetween. Its probably important I don't over-elaborate so I don't lose everyone before I've even started, so here we go, September 2007 to June 2008:

I... am in middle of seemingly never-ending divorce from hell (in a literal sense also? Quite possibly. See my show this year for details), moved home twice (and Edinburgh will count as thrice - I'll explain in a later blog), decided to leave my radio show (on discovering that decision was going to be made for me anyway), won the 2008 Chortle award for best compere (still happy about that), turned 35 (was always going to happen), flown my second plane (technically my first plane as the first one I got into 30 minutes beforehand suffered mechanical failure - see picture below), filmed and helped edit my second DVD (you will not believe how much work this was) and got, according to my peers and the odd punter, a bit funnier.

Doesn't sound like much, does it? But that's because so much of this year already has been taken up with getting ready for this year's Edinburgh - which I have been reliably informed is likely to be my make or break year. And that's not a baseless, arbitrary statement; those people I work with regarding production, PR, and venue management have given me (and been given) targets on everything from ticket sales, press coverage, critical expectations and the work that I need it to generate as a result. No wonder I can't stop thinking about it. It's going to be an equally tricky effort this year just to enjoy myself. But no worries, I will.

I'm going to try to get back to sleep now. This blog has taken me over an hour and a half to write - pathetic. I could have used that time to revise, sorry, rehearse my show. It's not as if not doing that is interrupting my sleep or anything.



Stephen

The odd things you end up needing this time of year. It's the same every July, as my over-ambitious plans for the Edinburgh show slowly get either trimmed back or scarily realised. So this week my jobs include:

- Find a 7yr old ginger boy, to play a young version of myself in a video
- Buy lots of packs of Cadbury's Fingers
- Find someone with a Mini-DV camcorder
- Try and fit into some leather trousers I last wore a decade ago
- Learn the ukulele
- Buy an "I am 3 today" badge/card
- Edit a medley of Christmas carols
- Buy a whistle
- Buy a suit that's about 1 or 2 sizes too big for me
- Invest in a fan that spells out words on it
- Rewrite the lyrics to Mack The Knife
- Write the lyrics for a spoof musical theatre song
- Research the history of rock music
- Watch Emmy-Lou Harris's Ten Commandments of Country Music, that I recorded last Christmas
- Email Roxette's manager

I have already this week bought two very cool hats. One is an alligator-skin (fake) cowboy style country music hat, and the other is a very comfortable trilby that I liked so much that I wore it all day at home on Monday, plus to the pub.

Some days I wish I was one of those comedians who just turns up to a stage and a microphone, talks for an hour, then goes home. Then I remember that that would mean I don't get to wear the hats...

So just mere weeks to go to el big Eddo, and I'm very pleased to say that finally our sketch show is finally a show. Our last preview went well and people said they liked it which was lovely. There is still heaps of work to do and thats why this is my first blog in two weeks, because every ounce of time is being spent on Edinburgh prep for Tea and Cake II. And I mean every ounce of time. If there was a weighing scale of time, it would be massively overbalanced on one side and strangely some flour on the other side. No one knows why. Which is where the problem lies, because I am also doing a 30 minute stand-up show, which has become somewhat neglected. Its just sitting there high up getting all floury.

Its not a conscious thing neglecting the stand-up show, but it has happened as a by product of several things. 1) I am only doing a 30 minute set as part of a double header with an act who lives nowhere near me. This means we cant really do previews as such, unless you count me doing 30 min sets at normal stand-up nights as previews. 2) Normal stand-up gigs disappear in July, and are replaced with preview nights, meaning that I haven't had many gigs. 3) The few gigs I've had have been MCing, which means I haven't really been giving my 30 minute sets any kind of airing. 4) I've had to cancel many of the few gigs I have had in order to rehearse to make our sketch show some sort of show.

So all the solo stuff has taken a back seat, which isn't ideal. In an ideal world I would have a car that flies, a tiger that walks on two feet and wears a suit and the ability to shot flames from my eyes whenever I want. But none of those things are realistic. So in an ideal realistic world I would be spending 50% of my time on the sketch show and 50% on the stand-up. While somehow also having 50% for life and boring things like budgeting and random writing jobs and MCing normal gigs and 50% for for seeing my friends and drinking because the weather has been nice apart from yesterday and today which have sucked. Those with any maths knowledge will realise that that equals 200% which is not remotely a percentage and therefore isn't realistic or attainable either. Maybe I should go back to hoping for the car that flies.

I am going to have to spend the next three weeks only working on the stand-up with a good amount of time spent of sketches. My girlfriend, friends, family and bank will hate me, and I will be creating social suicide. But alas it is what's needed in the name of comedy and I am a true warrior of mirth.

Ahem, I should say though that before anyone plays any tiny violins, - although that is a sight I love much like watching big people play ukuleles, and midgets play the double bass - I would like to point out that earlier I missed number 5). Number 5) is the most important one. It goes like this:

5) In the last few weeks I have been to see several live music gigs, enjoyed the sunny weather, slept in loads, got a new wii game, and persuaded myself I already have 45 minutes of material, which I do. Only it doesn't all work. And instantly in those last two sentences all the sympathy I spent so long garnering from you was shattered. Hence the torturous few weeks ahead are self inflicted. Here's to Edinburgh and comedy and now off to lock the door, close the curtains, and tell everyone I'm a little bit dead for a while...