Reading Richard Herring's blog (http://www.richardherring.com/warmingup/warmingup.php?id=2123), I realised that we both had a bizarrely similar Sunday evening, without knowing it. Both of us left Edinburgh after our identically-scheduled final shows on Sunday night, leaving the city at about 10pm, in England by midnight, both of us failed to see a sign telling us this. Both decided to drive till tired and then just find a Travelodge. Both underestimated demand on a bank holiday, and both were turned away from several hotels (for me it was Westmoreland and Lancaster), before, in both cases, a friendly receptionist at a full Premier Travel Inn called ahead to other hotels in their chain to see where there was a room free. The same receptionist? I like to think so. I also like to think that we weren't the only performers doing this, that there was a massive congaesque chain of cars trundling down the M6, popping into every budget hotel affixed to every service station. I like the idea of an overnight hotel receptionist baffled by comedians, circus performers, jugglers, etc all rocking up at 3am demanding a room.

In Richard's case, he was just keen to get home; in mine I was getting to Cheltenham for Monday evening, for my annual rush to Greenbelt Festival. Always a lovely way to round off August with a gig that inevitably plays to more people than the whole of my Edinburgh run put together. Maybe that wasn't true this year, as they got me a smaller venue than last year - a shame cos last year's fit about 300, with at least as many again refused entry cos it was full. The Greenbelt top brass told me that next year they'll put me in Centaur, which is the big venue of about 1200 capacity. Lovely, and at the same time, yikes.

The show this year was fun, though manic, with 3 different shows in 5 hours - firstly the package show Get Up Stand Up at 8:30, then my solo show at 10pm, then finally a 15min spot at the late show Last Orders. All fun, though slightly marred by (drum roll please) my first complaint. One girl was a little offended that I had the N word on the screen at one point (I was quoting Kanye West's Golddigga - I felt legitimately, since he was black, and a Christian, and it's in context, but still it's a strong word and she didn't like it), and she also frowned on a video I played, arguing that it was offensive to blind people. It goes to show that up in Edinburgh I'm considered very much unedgy and safe, and yet I go to a Christian festival and suddenly I'm the edgiest thing some of them have seen...

In conclusion, you can't please all the people all the time. But Greenbelt was fun, and Edinburgh was funnish, and it's great to be home. And now I'm going out the door to my first post-Edinburgh gig. Cos although the bank holiday weekend of August is almost like the end of the comedians' calendar year, we've now had New Year's Eve and today is the equivalent of January 2nd. ie. Back to work.

I am now home, but have some unfinished mopping up of the Edinburgh blog to do, before it becomes regular blog once more...

What have I achieved at the Fringe? Well, I've finished season 4 of Lost, season 2 of Heroes, and season 3 of Arrested Development. Those probably aren't the aims I set out with when coming up a month ago (wow, a month ago?). My main aim was to raise the profile a bit, as well as the joy and experience of coming up with a new hour show. It is nice to do a show where you are the only one who sets it up and the only one who performs it - different to life on the circuit where a compere sets the tone, and any acts on before you give you something to be compared to. Here in Edinburgh, you set the tone, and by the end of the hour, the audience take you for your own merits without comparing you to other comics. Except none of that's true of course, because in fact they might be comparing you with the 3 or 4 other shows they've seen that day already. However, when you get to tour the show you've done (which I will be, next spring), well then yes you do get that freedom, so that'll be nice.

I've also discovered the benefits of wearing an eye-mask to go to sleep - never worn one before, but my flats (I've had three) all featured very thin curtains, so the sun comes up (normally soon after I get in from Brooks' Bar) and it wakes you up, unless you come armed with one of those things you can nick of a long-distance flight. I had ear-plugs as well which I used the first week cos I was staying near a loud road, but I have refrained from using the eye-mask and ear-plugs together, for fear that if I cut off all sight and sound, I may never wake up ever again.

Highlights? Probably tenatively trying 'N*GN*GS' as a "risky seven" in Comedians' Countdown (a very risky seven). It wasn't allowed, but luckily I had a more definite eight, so no racist slang was needed. Phew.

Some late reviews in the last day or two - Ed Byrne was excellent, and the double-act show Jollie: Jon & Ollie Stuck Together was excellent riotous fun. I saw Back To The Future: The Pantomime on Sunday which was very enjoyable. Only last week I was chatting to Stuart, the guy with the Delorean who came up with it 2 years ago when I did Back To The Futon, and he said how keen he was to come up again with the Delorean. In fact he said he could probably get his hands on up to a dozen Deloreans to parade through Edinburgh, if I were to ever do that show again. I was going to wait till 2015 (to fit the films), but watch this space - Back To The Futon Part 2 could be here sooner than that...

I leave tonight. My last show finishes at 8pm - I'll be packing my car straight up and hitting the road, stopping at a motorway services hotel somewhere around Carlisleish, to break up my journey to Cheltenham, where I'm due tomorrow night to do the show one last time (for now) at a nice big ol' festival where I can look forward to playing to more people than I have all month put together. So, a bit of housekeeping before I leave...

The if.come-and-die awards last night - worthy winners in Millican and O'Doherty. I'm particularly pleased Sarah won - mainly cos I know her and she's lovely, but part of me (the evil, corporate promoter part of me) is delighted cos she's playing our gig in Guildford in October, so hey, Guildford folks, come and see the newcomer winner on Wed 1st Oct (oh, and Lee Hurst on Wed 3rd Sept). And while you're there, Guildford folks, pub on Tuesday night?

One comedian who shall remain nameless was chatting to me last night at the awards bash and said, "So if you've won the if.comedie thing, can you be nominated in the future." "No," I replied. "Then what's the point of coming back each year? Why does Brendon Burns or Phil Nichol come back with a new show, if there's incentive?" Ugh. This nameless comic was whisked away before I could reply: "You think everyone's just here to win an award!? What about putting a show on just for the love of putting an hour of comedy together?" If I could change three things about Edinburgh, it'd be no awards whatsoever, a full house for everyone, and less hills.

Oh, and lastly, the 'bringing it home' of the title. One of my former schoolteachers came to my show on the weekend, bless her - now that's a good teacher. Ten years after I left, and she's still checking up on me. She talked of her impending retirement, and the dreams she's had of travelling the world - Australia, South America, Asia... and then of how her husband was recently diagnosed with dementia. You have all those dreams and then you suddenly are thrust into being a carer for the rest of your life. So it doesn't seem to me that she's retiring - more switching jobs. So I'm delighted they both made it along to the show, and it is also sudenly reminds you how Edinburgh Doesn't Really Matter. Up here, it's a microcosm - star ratings matter, audience figures going up and down matter, even who you're chatting to in a bar matters. We forget about the rest of the world, whether it's Olympic Games, air crashes in Madrid, or people like my old teacher who has bigger fish to fry than to worry about a dodgy review in a student-written 'magazine' (or piece of paper). So that's what brought it all home to me.

Till next year, farewell Edinburgh - thanks for having me.

Here are all the shows I've seen this month, and what I thought of them. But because I don't want to offend anyone if I didn't like their show, I've muddled around my reviews. So feel free to mix and match...

Rhod Gilbert
Ed Aczel
The Knowledge of Beauty
Jason Cook
Tina C
Jim Rose Circus
Big Value Comedy Show
Phil Kay
Late & Live
John Pinette
X Files Improv
harvest festival
last five years
rat pack
john gordillo
faulty towers
antonio forcione & adriano adewale
rob deering
66a church road by daniel kitson
a hug away from happiness
we all fall down
homework for heroes

- funny at times, but an overall letdown - might have been the wrong space for him
- awful - would have left if the entrance wasn't part of the set
- good, but not half as good as everyone says it is
- enjoyed it, but made me think i could come back and do something like that much better. So I might.
- just lovely and moving and very funny and the only show I saw twice
- a bit of a letdown - heard lots of hype but i didn't see a 5-star show (maybe that's the problem with hype)
- a lesson in holding a crowd, but then it's easier with songs, innit?
- not my cup of tea, nor was it the rest of the audience's cup of tea, i think. In fact I think the only person who liked it was the bloke doing it.
- a bit too tame for my liking - disappointing, compared to what the show would have been years ago
- I'm glad I saw this at the end of the festival, because it's depressing to see this at the start and realise that none of us are as good as this guy
- one performer was great - the rest... (shrugs)
- brilliant - glad i finally got to see him
- passed an hour. laughed three times.
- good fun, original, different - surprised it worked for an hour really
- entertaining enough, although his arrogance put me off a bit
- i want my money (and hour) back. Made me think the fringe should stop its open-door policy and start auditioning.
- brilliant - expected to hate it, but i got suckered into it, and would see it again and again
- inspiring, uplifting - the perfect show to end a day on. I bought the CD straight after.
- pretty good fun, although it looked like the theme of the show was tagged on at the last minute
- argh. so bad. so so bad.
- the material was great, the performance was not great, and actually frightening
- a brilliant, brilliant piece of theatre. Rarely have I seen a show where the acting, writing and direction were all so impressive. Gutted to hear this might be their last year, cos the fringe needs shows like this.

I had a dream last night. In it, John Gordillo, the acclaimed magician (it was a dream, ok, and he looks like he could be a magician) "killed" me, although it was a magic trick, so I wasn't really dead. Only I didn't know that at the time, so I was terrified. Then I realised it was a trick, and a fake needle (alright, genuine needle (still in a dream though), fake killy substance inside it), and so Gordillo-in-the-dream smuggled me out of the venue where he was performing 'murder' (oh yes, this was in front of a paying audience), and put me in a small room with Pappy's Fun Club, who had also been fake-murdered by The Great Gordillo the day before. Cut to a day later, and the amazing illusionist lets us out, in front of dozens of press photographers, all convinced that JG had actually committed homicide on the 5 of us (and yet no one had arrested him? plus they'd willingly followed him to this small abandoned room, thinking he was a killer? Alright, it's dream logic). We appear, the photographers go mental, we get to tell the world that we were never injecting with lethal poison in the first place, although at the time we did think we were actually going to die.

And then I woke up. In a panic, cos at one point there I thought I was about to die, but in my first moment of waking I was also briefly sad that the dream wasn't true - because, I thought to myself, think of the press attention and ensuing ticket sales that my pretend murder would generate.

That's when you know it's time to leave Edinburgh.

REASONS I'M READY TO GO HOME:

- Three Weeks misquoted (and therefore, I think, misunderstood) my show 3 times in about 30 words. Impressive. Who says you can't tell they're students?
- Some guys in a car yelled "F*** off you pr**k" at me for no real reason yesterday. They then yelled the same to a pensioner a little further up, and then the same to an empty bus-stop further still. Then a different car nearly ran me over when he turned without indicating, and apparently that was my fault. I'm sensing the locals have had enough of us now. Come on, chaps - back to Blighty.

Having said that...

REASONS I AM LOVING IT:

- I cannot think of a better way to spend £50 then the three shows I saw on Monday. The Faulty Towers Dining Experience was brilliant. I expected to hate it ('Impressionists? That's not real comedy...') but it was excellent. You arrive to be greeted by Manuel, Sybil and Basil, all looking for each other among the crowd of punters. Basil slowly seats you, getting more and more annoyed by the slowness of us (oh yes, they don't just get annoyed at the other cast members - they get annoyed at us). A pigeon craps on someone's head (I don't think that was planned, but it was perfectly executed. Well done, pigeon - I award you 5 stars). We sit, and there are only forks on our table, and only knives on the next table. Between us, we swap them round, then complain to Basil that we had to do it ourselves. "Oh aren't we self-sufficient," he sneers as he strides across the room to throw Manuel against a wall. Perfectly done, brilliantly mimicked, and it's truly liberating to have restaurant staff insult you horrendously, but expect and encourage it.
- Oh, then I took my girlfriend to see Jason Cook - lovely and moving and funny and all that.
- Finally we saw some music - Antonio Forcione and Adriano Adewale - Italian acoustic guitarist and Brazilian percussionist. Just amazing. Go see, and go hear.
- Oh, and that day (Monday - my girlfriend's birthday), was rounded off with a fine meal with good friends. Where else could you see three excellent shows, do a show of your own (also excellent, of course), have a lovely meal in good company and with the backdrop of castles and mountains and the sea, and still have time at the end of it all to go and get ratted? Nowhere, that's where.
- The other reason I'm loving Edinburgh is that I'm loving my show. I'm happier with this than with any other I've done, and I genuinely get a little bit excited just before the last 10 minutes of it, because I enjoy doing the end of the show so much. So thank you Edinburgh for giving me the opportunity and excuse to write this show. But Edinburgh can you send some more proper reviewers rather than someone who can't spell the brief two-dozen words they have written?

Oh Edinburgh, you are a fickle mistress, but how I do love thee...

My girlfriend's up this weekend. Woo! Haven't seen her in 3 weeks. What a bad boyfriend. And it's her birthday on Monday (and every August - which is a problem, given Edinburgh's timing.)

So we've lots of plans over the next few days, largely consisting of running between venues cos we've packed in too much. Something I do want to do at some point with her is (not that, but yes that, but that's not what I'm talking about here) Arthur's Seat at sunrise. I've done it once, 10 years ago, and I'm waiting to get the stamina to do it again. To climb Arthur's Seat for dawn, you need several things:

- Sturdy footwear
- A sense of the romantic
- A damaged body-clock, so you can still be awake and alert at 4am and ready to climb a mountain (alright, hill)
- A torch (I forgot this first time round - made it trickier)
- More ambition than sense

When I did it, I was up here with a play, and everyone else climbed it on our penultimate night. I was going to but fell asleep. When they returned, drunk, singing Climb Ev'ry Mountain, telling tales of the magical sights they'd seen, I thought I'd better do it too. Which left our last night, and everyone else had done it, so I was doing it alone. But I was determined, so at 4am, after a good 6-7 pints (I could drink that then, and still stand), off I trekked, alone and torchless. Cos how difficult can it be? You just head up. There's no need for a route or anything. In that sense climbing a mountain is easy: you can't go wrong - just go up.

(Incidentally you can go wrong on Arthur's Seat, cos there's a fake peak - you think you've climbed to the top and then you find you've climbed the wrong bit. So I had to go down and up again.)

Can I confess something too, dear bloggee? On a place like that, atop a mountain (I know it's a hill, but I'm sticking with mountain), you have to be naked, just once, to experience it. So I did. It was proper cold. So cold that I lasted all of about three seconds of the North Sea wind, just long enough to look down at the city of Edinburgh, go, "Ha-ha, I'm up here with no clothes on and you can't see me," before reclothing myself. Literally within five seconds of that, a couple of American tourists joined me, never knowing that seconds early they'd have had quite a surprise and potentially lost their footing.

Amazing. I hadn't seen a single person for the entire ascent (why would I? It was 4am on a Monday night/Tuesday morning), and I had about 30 seconds at the summit on my own (27 seconds clothed, 3 seconds unclothed), seeing that amazing view of the sun coming up over the sea, while the rest of Edinburgh remained in darkness... before Mr and Mrs Loudenbrash appeared at the top with me. I never saw them on the ascent, so they must have climbed the other side (the side with the path).

And the view there is great, especially at sunrise. I recommend it to anyone. To see the sun coming up over the sea, looking aimlessly out at (presumably) Norway, and then turning around and seeing the city beneath you to the west, with the sun slowly, but noticeably, lighting up the city bit by bit. Aw, I've gone all gooey. It's one of those images that will never leave my head. If you ever do it, just be aware that if someone's beaten you to the top, they may have had a similar idea to me... So brace yourself, cos you might see something that will also never leave your head, no matter how much you want it to.

Day off today. Woo. Only not woo and not a day off, because I've been spending it working harder than I have on my days on. With my writer's hat on (I haven't got one, but might get one), I've been working on Not Going Out - one episode gagged up and sent off today, and another started today to send off by Saturday. It's going to be a busy few days. So alas my grand plan of going away for 47 hours didn't really work. The plan was to have my car waiting for me (that sounds so grand, but it really was just going to be my car - no driver or anything), then off I scoot to a hotel in Fife or somewhere, then spend the next day roaming the Highlands, another night in a non-Edinburgh hotel, then back in time for the show on Thursday. I just wanted to see one of the castles from Monty Python & The Holy Grail really. But another year.

Still, this beats my day off from two years ago. I didn't have my car with me then, so went to the station, determined to get on any train to any place that sounded small and villagey, preferably with Glen and Mac and six other syllables in it. But the destination board told a different story: Liverpool, Manchester, Newcastle... Well I didn't fancy going to these exotic places. So I tried the bus station instead. No joy there. Nowhere that sounded even the remotest bit remote. Except for one placename: Ocean Terminal. Wow. It sounded exotic. I could see the ships come and go. Maybe have an ice cream as I bid an ocean liner well on its journey onto the seas. And it was the last destination on that bus route, so I thought it was the ideal place.

Little did I know, Ocean Terminal is the name of the shopping centre at the end of Leith. My day off was spent reaching what is basically a large Debenhams. Plus I'd spent so long faffing at both railway and bus stations that it was now late in the afternoon... I got there just in time for the shutters to come down. I couldn't even buy a shirt. I got back on the bus and went home again.

That was then, and this is now, and I've spent my day off stuck in my room. I did venture out briefly, during the time I would normally be on stage, just to try and make it seem different. So I drove to Portobello, cos it's by the sea, and I like the sea, and I like fish and chips, and I really like fish and chips by the sea, so here is a photo I took this evening of just that, as evidence that I did indeed have a day off, and that it wasn't at a closed shopping centre...

Today I had my 1st Red Bull of the Fringe, and got my 1st blister - they're not related, except via the fact that it was a phenomenally busy day. It began thus...

Had to do something unspeakable in Edinburgh terms, and Get Up Early(ish), for a PR-based health check by some Unison nurses to plug the Leicester Comedy Festival. Seems odd to plug a city's festival at another city's festival - I guess they're saying, "Hey Edinburgh - you're unhealthy - we don't have as many takeaways in Leicester." Anyway, they only took my blood pressure, so it wasn't the full MOT I was expecting. No dropping of the trousers and coughing. All I know is that my blood pressure was about 140/80, which they told me was average, which is good news. I later found out that was only average for a 40 year-old, so that's not good news cos (a) it means my blood pressure isn't as good as I thought it was, and (b) I've been mistaken for a 40 year-old.

Then I raced off to an Equity workshop on voiceovers/voice-reels. A good couple of hours, and I learned some great stuff. Mainly to give up, cos Lewis MacLeod does them all. Ah well.

Then I was picked up and taken back to my flat for the 2nd PR thing of the day - The Scotsman doing an interview/photoshoot about unusual flatshares - in my case it's that I love evil takeaways late at night, while my flatmates are undergoing a 'Daniel fast', whereby they're eating nothing processed (so it's all lentils and air) and are in bed by 9pm (I don't know if that goes with the fast - I'm guessing it's cos they're knackered cos they're not eating anything). A few poses later of me with a pizza box looking mournfully at the flat door, and I was off to...

Gig no.1 of the day - a WMD awareness gig. Do it most years - much fun. Tried some new stuff - worked. Why does brand new stuff often get a much better reaction that the old bankers? Does it mean it's genuinely better (which would be great - a proper improvement and progression of material), or is it that you give it more welly/patience cos it's new? I dunno.

Then off to gig no.2 of the day - the Clean Comedy Show. Tried the new stuff again. Worked, but not quite as well as at the 1st gig, which implies that the 2nd theory is true in the above paragraph.

Then off to my own show, which I think was the best yet. Good audience, including some people who laughed even at the set-ups (is that a good sign or not?)

Then a fine 3-course dinner with some friends from home who came up. Salmon pate, steak, chocolate mousse. Yum. Thanks chaps.

Then gig no.3 - 99 club at Canon's Gait. Fun, but by this point I'm waning. I even do a callback to a joke from gig no.1, so no one gets it. Whoops.

Then race to gig no.4, which is not really a gig, but me guesting on a comedians' version of Countdown. It's packed out, and it's me vs Stephen Grant, with Dan Atkinson as Richard Whiteley, Paul Sinha as Carol, Terry Saunders and James Sherwood in Dictionary Corner and Paul Litchfield as the clock. I wish I could have given it more, but by this point I'm just glad to sit down. I tried my darnedest - it's easier when you watch it on TV, you know. My best scoring was LONGINGS for 8 letters - thankfully beating the 7-letter word I also got from the same letters, which wouldn't have been allowed anyway cos apparently very derogatory racist terms aren't allowed in Countdown (the audience oohed at that - but then Stephen Grant 'found MADDIE' on the board at when point, so I think it's about even). Stephen did a sterling job and pipped me to the post, so he goes on to meet Richard Herring or Josie Long in the final.

And now I sleep. Whenever that Red Bull wears off...

I've lost both my contact lenses. They're hard lenses so very expensive, and all I know is that I lost them somewhere between The Meadows and The Assembly Rooms. And I'm not sure which route I took. So if everyone could keep an eye out in that vague area for two small transparent lenses somewhere on a pavement, that'd be great. Thanks.

Oh and tonight I forgot to have a wee before the show, so spent the show needing one (it turned into nervous energy, so I feel it made the show all the better). But it was made all the more difficult because the cave I'm in (to call it a venue would be a kindness too far) has now started perpetually leaking from the ceiling onto the stage. So for the whole hour I had to stare at a constant trickling of water right next to me, and try to hold it in... I'll be honest, I thought I felt a droplet during my leather trousers bit, but the leather trousers being leather trousers (they're as tight as a duck's arsehole), the poor droplet had nowhere to go so I think it went back in again. Hopefully the leaking ceiling will be fixed tomorrow, meaning (a) no more stage puddles (from the ceiling or from me), and (b) no more blog posts like this that go into too much detail about micturation.

Got a couple of reviews now - one from Fest who said something like, "This show should have been at the fringe a long time ago", probably from a longer paragraph that continued with: "Now however...". I say probably cos I don't know - this year I'm staying true to that ideal of all performers of not reading the reviews, so I only know the bits that my producer has kindly stuck on posters. There's also a nice one (4 stars) from one4review.com. Encouraging.

I am now in my new flat, which is a little further from the centre that I'd thought. It's practically Berwick-upon-Tweed in fact. Also while I was looking forward to the company of new flatmates (my first week was in a lonesome prisonesque student flat), it now turns out that we may not be sharing the same joyous sumptuous feasts and nights out - they've decided to do a month-long fast, so they're only eating rice and fruit all festival. There go the exciting prospects of Chinese takeaways and boozy nights out with them. Add to that the fact that they're doing 8am Bible studies each day (I'm expecting to come in at 8am at least once this month, maybe just in time to catch the theological discussion) - it's not quite going to be the rock-and-roll bachelors' pad I'd envisaged.

I came in late last night and didn't have my laptop with me for my usual 'can't sleep, watch a dvd' ritual, and all my books were in the boot of my car, so I thought I'd read one of the books on the shelf of the person whose flat it is - but all hundred or so books were just in keeping with the planned daily Bible studies, so I had to choose my 2am reading between D.A. Carson's commentary of John's gospel or E.P. Sanders' The Historical Figure of Jesus. Both excellent books, but 2am and a few pints' worse for wear and you don't pick up the crux (no pun intended) of the theosophical arguments, so I'm afraid to say instead I opted for listening to some Bill Hicks on my ipod. I felt quite dirty. Tonight I'll probably read why Carson reckons the fourth gospel was aimed at the Jewish rather than Hellenic population, just to redress the balance.

I move accommodation today. Not because my room is full of damp and my electrical items seem at risk of being rained on and either at best stopping working or at worst killing me (no, that's my venue), but because it was always my grand plan of Saving Money at Edinburgh. So I'm moving into a spare room somewhere so far south of city centre that I think it's in Berwick-upon-Tweed. But I can only stay there for a fortnight, so I'll be somewhere else (the spare room of an Edinburgh resident) for the last week, and I've been somewhere else this week (a small prison cell off South Bridge).

I shall miss my small prison cell. Yes, it was small, and prison-celly, but it was also darned central, being just a literal (if you've got a good arm) stone's throw from the Pleasance Courtyard. But needs must, and when some sandwich shops are brazenly displaying price boards with £3 crossed out and £5.50 written in instead just for the month of August, you've got to make the savings when you can.

Which is why I applaud Edward Aczel's show, that I saw yesterday, for giving out prizes only to ask for them back again (I think he got them all back too). That's the way to make a saving.

Ooh, Stephen Grant did read my blog post - how exciting. That's the Stephen Grant from off of from BBC's Inside Out news piece about illegal Guildford car races. Oh yeah, I've seen it.

Day something in the Edinburgh Fringe house, and so far I'm not ill. I always get ill at the fringe. Two years ago I had a taxi waiting for me outside of my venue waiting to take me to A&E as soon as I left the stage, having done the show that night entirely sitting down. Why? Well cos I'm fragile generally, plus my diet isn't great. I love fast food with a passion, and that, the late nights, the drinks in bars, and the weird hours all combine to cause my near-collapse every August. Although somehow I always end up blaming it on 'all the walking, especially the hills' - even though when you think about it, that's probably the only healthy thing I'm doing.

Well this year's different (I say that every year). No it is (yeah yeah). Honestly (prove it). You doubt me (yeah)? That one didn't work cos grammatically I'm meant to put the question mark after the thing in brackets, but then the 2nd voice thing looks like it's doing the questioning (I know). Anyway, my new regime has been as follows. Healthy eating - I've only had two bits of fast food since I've been here. Alright that's 2 in 5 days, but trust me, that's good for me. I once had a four-day stint where I ate no fruit and veg, and every food item was in batter. Not for a bet or anything - just cos I love it. And so yes, I will have my deep fried Mars Bar at some point, but I'm trying to put it off - so far it's been salads, stir-frys (or 'stir-fries'?), fruit, smoothies and vitamin C tablets.

And here's trick two - recommended to me by someone - bring your own microphone. The techies hate me of course, but before I start every show I unplug their mic and plug in my own. No offence to Dean Hagland, Rob Deering, the Big Value boys and anyone else in Baby Belly 1, but you might have germs, and I ain't getting 'em and falling ill.

Right, I'm off for some beers and a deep-fried kebab pizza.

1 show down, a mere 23 to go. I haven't done the big tour of the usual haunts yet that Stephen Grant has done (oh yes, I read the blog, Stephen. I don't know why I'm talking to him presuming he's reading this one. He's a busy man.), but I'm taking it easy at the beginning of this year's fringe. This is because (a) it's a long month and there's plenty of time, (b) I'm writing on Miranda Hart's radio show until later today, so that deadline has been looming, preventing much goingoutness thus far, and (c) I'm on pills for a dicky tummy till Saturday, so no booze till then anyway. So I shall begin dropping into the odd local tavern or too come this weekend. In the mean time I've been hiding away, apart from show-time.

So, show-time. Yesternight at 7pm it kicked off, and while I feel I did pretty well and was very happy with it, the big drop-off in the subject title is indeed about audience numbers. It's probably not the done thing to talk about it - it's the elephant in the room (I wish there was an elephant in the room - might have made it look a bit fuller) - but every comedian I've spoken to (and other shows, I expect) has been talking about this, or talking around the subject where they want to save face... numbers are down. Okay it's only one show in, and it's preview time, and Edinburgh's not full of tourists yet, but wallets are tightening, there are more shows than ever here, and just not enough audients to go round.

It's an even bigger drop-off for me, as I believe I hold the record for the ratio of 'audience at my last preview' to 'audience at first show in Edinburgh' - my last preview was on Sunday, to an estimated 600 people. That went pretty well. So the show last night to not far over 1% of that number made it all rather different.

I trust it'll pick up. I hope it does, as I'm happier with this show than I have been with any of my previous ones. I really enjoy performing it, and I feel I've got the right balance of a show with heart, a personal real story, yet still packed with as many quick jokes as I can squeeze in. And people have been leaving with a smile on their faces and a song in their hearts. So yes, I love my show this year. I just hope some others will take the plunge and see if they do too. Time will tell. Now time to hide away again. I shall emerge on Saturday night with a beer in my hand - coming soon to a bar near you.