Fat Tuesday got cancelled tonight for the first time in over 18 months for no real reason. There's no big footie game on, there's no national holiday or anything like that. In fact my only conclusion is that someone has organised a big special event or party and invited everyone except me. To be fair, while that would be a large amount of rejection to deal with, I am so hungover today that I wouldn't have minded too much, although they could have at least had the courtesy to forewarn me so that I wouldn't have to leave my house or pay any cancellation fees out of my own pocket. A pocket that already only had about 4p and some moths in it.

The gig was listed in the London Lite today as the recommended gig and that once again made little to no difference. According to one very annoying punter tonight the reason we were empty was because the poster at the bar was out of date. Apparently, that means I don't know how to run a gig and really need to sort that out if I expect people to come along. I did point out that we had sold out every gig since September till tonight, that the email list of 800 people and Facebook group of 550 people and all the listings were generally more important than posters and that this genuinely was a freak occurrence. I also wanted to point out that why, when there were only five audience members in the room, one of them had to be a complete and utter dickhead. However I refrained from this only in the hope that she will turn up again on a night where the posters are wrong (as they often are) and the place is packed. Then I will have a pre-transcribed script with all of her previous words on and I will make her eat it.

The problem is, overall its me who looks like the idiot. That punter had never been before, and neither had three of the acts, so how were they to know that our gig ever does well? Its the most cliched phrase in the comedy world when you say 'you should have been at the last gig', and as I said them tonight I knew I had automatically lost 5% of dignity. Despite the fact I know I am telling the truth as I tried to explain to one of the acts who had travelled a fair distance to be there, I felt like a big liar. I suppose its like that method where the police stick all the culprits of a crime in a room together and observe them. The one who isn't panicking and looking nervous is the criminal. Everyone else is too worried that they might be found guilty without having done anything. To be fair my situation is not really anything like that, especially when they get wrongly accused and there's a film with a Baldwin in or something. I think crime suspects are on the whole, much worse off.

I don't mind paying out of my pocket for the acts either especially as I said it here which means by complaining about it I should indeed print that off and eat my own words too:

http://www.timeout.com/london/comedy/features/2855/Tiernan_Douieb-interview.html

The problem is at the mo, I am very broke and so I quite selfishly hope that if this happens the acts will just go, 'no it's fine' which a lot of them who are nice do. Its not fair to ask that though, something I realise as a working comic. Although I'm usually the goon who says 'no its fine' and therefore loses either way. I reckon after tonight though I may have to put some small print when I email people. I'll fit in fee stuff with some copy and pasted mortgage blurb so no one bothers to check it.

But it genuinely is a great and popular gig until tonight, so fingers crossed for the next one in two weeks time. At least I can rest my hangover away. This is an unjustified hangover as well. I didn't drink enough last night at the much fun Chortle awards to constitute this much pain. I fear this is the harshness of being older. I think my liver hates me. It was worth it though, as last night was really good and although I find something quite odd about mingling with comedy people outside of Edinburgh, it was great to catch up with some people. I was a tad sad Fat Tuesday didn't win the small club award, but it went to a deserved winner with Falling Down With Laughter. I say deserved but as they are on the same night as us I have never been. In fact it means Alexis and Sy who run it are our main rivals. Double in fact - tonight my FT cohort Georgie pointed out that Alexis' name is an amalgamation of both mine and Georgie's names (his real name being Alex). Alexis, I fear you might actually be my real arch nemesis and we may have to dual.

Well done to all the peoples who won last night. Thanks to Arthur Smith it was a wonderfully funny and brief awards ceremony in the best of ways and although people joked about it the nominations are hella important. That and you can never argue with a free bar. Well unless you are my liver of course.

Right now back to re-cooperation and watching the car crash of a show that is Lilly Allen pretending to be interesting.....

btw as stolen from my brother's blog, this is amazingly funny, although possibly a bit racist. Hmmm.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZA1NoOOoaNw

I'm currently in the process of putting in a new light fitting in our bedroom. The large problem with this is that I have little to know clue how to do it, but due to sometimes being driven by a false sense of manliness, I have decided to try anyway I actually started just before my gig last night, with only 30 minutes before I had to leave. This meant that far from being clever and man-like, I just tore a light of the wall, left dust everywhere and my girlfriend alone in a house with no lights in any of the rooms. Just call me Mr DIY.

I had my first experience of witnessing first hand the effect of the Arts Council's recent decision to cut lots of funding on Saturday. A truly lovely gig in Boston, Lincolnshire at the Blackfriars Art Centre is to be no more as of April, because the Arts Council have decided that the venue no longer needs its £50k of funding anymore. I can only assume they came to this conclusion whilst drunk, but the venue has managed to survive without funding for the last two years by some helpful private sponsorship. Sadly it can only survive this way for another month and will then be turned into flats, or something far less useful. What will happen then is that a massive culture shaped hole will appear in the little town of Boston, as Blackfriars was the prime venue for theatre, dance and comedy and without it, local residents will have to travel miles to see that sort of entertainment. Ultimately what will probably happen is many of them won't bother and just boost ratings for terrible reality TV and simultaneously numbing their brain.

I had read quite a lot about this recent situation through the papers, but until now, I hadn't experienced it first hand, as a lot of comedy gigs are buildings that aren't Arts Council funded. I had to abandon a survey from Equity about it because doing comedy rather than a touring theatre production meant I wasn't able to reply to most of the questions. But it does affect comedy because these are the sort of venues comedians tour their solo shows, the sort of venues that provide that much needed, packed out, once a month show that allows residents of these areas to see acts they wouldn't otherwise get a chance to see.

There has been a recent turn around due to Equity and many actors and performers protesting, but for a lot of venues its still too late. In the recent cuts in December, lots of venues were informed with only 18 days notice that their funding would be partially or entirely cut, meaning shows were cancelled last minute and venues closed down within a month. In the midst of this, the head of the ACE has received a pay increase of £70k, an amount that could save one to two of the theaters at risk. Dodgy? I thinks so. I can only imagine the head of ACE stroking a white cat and cackling in his limo. Another case of the government feeding the pockets of the rich while depriving everyone else.

The question that was being asked before was whether or not, with decisions like this, the Arts Council should be in charge of arts funding at all, or if that responsibility should be passed to someone with a bit of care for the venues they deal with. The announcement on Jan 29th about the ACE's re-think of its funds is a slight sigh of relief, but who's to say that it isn't only a matter of time before we are left with a handful of theaters around the country and a nation whose idea of live entertainment is getting to see the Dancing on Ice live show, or perhaps seeing someone happy-slapped in front of you.

Sorry that was all a bit of a serious blog, and to be fair not quite as in detail as some of the areas should be, hence why I don't write for the Times or Guardian or something. In other news, Belfast was lovely, despite once again stepping on stage after the comedian has spent ages doing anti-English material. Thank god for a Celtic first name. I think it gave me about three minutes of grace.
Also I discovered that my last blog received loads of hits because of my mention about Nuts TV and I used the words 'Topless Model' and 'Naked Girls'. I'm aware that this may mean that many of my readers where porn browsers and were probably disappointed with my diatribe, screaming 'where are the tits?' or something but I like the blog count so those words may appear every blog from now on. Incidentally, here's that Nuts TV clip:

http://video.aol.com/video-detail/the-comedy-club-tiernan/3560069217

I'm writing this entry from a funny little wi-fi zone in Stanstead airport, on my way to  truly lovely gig in Belfast. There's little else to do in Stanstead airport, it being the most meagre of London's flight zones (City is an exception because although small it caters for the business man and is more well equipped for bored travellers), and so this tiny area of specially designed seats for person plus laptop is rammed full of people pretending to look important on their flashy machines. There is man next to me reclining in a way that can only say 'I'm a hugely important city boy. any decisions I make could change the entire British Stock Market. What a shame I have no friends and live in tragic solitude.' I expected him to be doing very important things on his shiny new computer, but a quick glance over and I can see that he is also plying on Scrabulous. My opinion of him has immediately gone up in estimation.

The past week as per always has been an odd mix of things. After my last blog of the train journey from hell, things went from bad to worse as on arriving home my girlfriend informed me that our car had been broken into. This is immediately annoying, and I mean annoying rather than upsetting. They didn't take anything. Not a thing. This is partly because we are not idiots and don't ever leave anything in the car, but also probably because whatever had been left in the car would have been useless to any thieves. I can't imagine a bunch of crims trying to sell off half a Haribo packet on the black market. I really hope they felt gutted when after making all the effort of breaking into the car they scavenged through, only to realise it really was a huge waste of time, and that perhaps now is the time to go on the straight and narrow and study hard and become an astronaut. I'd love to see that on TV one day. 'After landing on Mars for the first time Dave Criminal had this to say: " Thanks to the owners of the dirty VW Polo who are too stingy to have anything worth stealing, otherwise I wouldn't be here today". It's a nice dream.

All they left was a distinct lack of window and a lot of mess, which meant I couldn't drive it to my gig that night meaning a last minute expensive train dash. It also meant that despite the so-called 24 hour window fixing service, our window is currently gaffer taped onto the car, providing a security risk and a truly horrible noise as you go down the motorway. Lloyd Langford and myself discovered this on our way to Hinckley on Sunday as we tried to talk while what sounded like a giant fly in a can made the most irritating noise on Earth. It reminded me of a much worse version of my brother when he was little and would make those gargling type sounds every time you tried to talk. Those were the times I believed violence was condoned in the household. Although apparently I was wrong.

I hope those failed car thieves get caught and I want them to be served punishment on account of how much time of mine they've wasted and how inconvenient they've made my travelling. I doubt that will even come into account were the police half arsed to do anything more than give us a crime reference number. Fingers crossed for the astronaut outcome then.

Other than being a victim of crime, its been consistently interesting since. A lovely gig at the Museum of London on Thursday, followed immediately by a storming set at the Comedy Cafe on the same night. It was very odd to go from performing in front of ancient axes and swords to a crowd of sedate museum goers, to berating a crowd of city arseholes in a professional club. Made for a great night though, and it was duly celebrated by too much drinking with old friends after. The next day's hangover completely ruining all enjoyment of the previous night. I love the way booze does payback.

Did a short thing for Nuts TV on Monday which was more fun than it should have been. A group of us turned up at the studios as cynical as you could possibly be. We all know the sort of content we expect from Nuts TV, and while half of us were worried we would have to get our moobs out, or something laddish, we also knew we were there to represent our stand-up. Its mad, but as Matt Reed pointed out as we wolfed down free jaffa cakes and pretzels, you wait ages to get on TV, but when you do, there's a hundred and one complaints. There was a lot of stuff we complained about too. the whole thing overran, as TV inevitably does. Then we weren't allowed to leave the studio once we'd entered as the smoke machine would set off the fire alarms all over the building so we were trapped watching the whole thing.

Nevertheless, despite the odds it was really good fun. The crowd were members of the office who had been roped in to watch. On first observation they were the sort of people who dressed as though they should be punched, but as a crowd they were very nice. It was only four minutes of material and everyone looked really good on the screen. Hopefully now we wont just be wedged between 'Topless Girls Playing Wii' and 'Some Model Dancing Naked With Model Friends' as a visual cold shower.

There would be more warbling but I have a plane to board (I love the way that sounds when I read it back). Belfast report to follow......

I'm currently sitting on the longest most boring train journey of my life. I've been on longer train journeys across parts of Europe, but they didn't have that sheer dullness that the slow train from Edinburgh to London does. At least as you cross Europe the views are astounding, passing mountains, valleys and general lovely things. The same cannot be said for the painfully grey suicide inducing outskirts of Durham. Its my fault for not checking which was the fast train and which was the slow, subsequently choosing the latter and therefore throwing away a good hour and a half of my life that I could have spent on my own sofa at home instead of sitting bolt upright in a seat that appears to be made of the most uncomfortable materials known to humankind while someone in front of me eats sandwiches that smell of badger sick. This is all made minutely bearable by the addition of free wi-fi on the train and my laptop. Yes, that's right, the future is now.

Despite my misery, its all been for a very worthy reason. I've just spent two lovely nights in Scotland doing the Stand in Edinburgh and Glasgow, both of which are two of the nicest gigs I've ever done. I've always been too lazy to take two days out to trek up Northenest and do the Scottish circuit, but after hearing umpteen million times that the Stand was one of the best clubs in the UK, I thought I really should make the effort. I'm pleased to say that the trip was entirely worth it. Monday night in Edinburgh was truly lovely and rammed full of a up-for-it comedy crowd. It was also great to meet acts who never really head south and only do the Scottish scene. Everyone was really welcoming and it was one of the most enjoyable gigs I've had in a long time. the club kindly booked me into the hotel across the road and so I was able to have a few beers and literally crawl home after which is always a bonus. Tuesday night was a similar experience only with even more audience, and again a really top night.

I'd never been to Edinburgh except for during the festival so it was nice to walk around without being harassed by dickheads on stilts, four hundred flyerers, and people shouting about their new play where Jesus is a doorman of a blues bar and all the women are aliens. Its such a beautiful city and for the first time in ages I was in the right frame of mind to sit down and churn out a ton of writing that I was meant to do ages ago. The downside to this was while I typed I lost count of how many coffees I had been drinking and spent the afternoon and evening buzzing on a caffeine high with scary breath like the weird maths supply teacher that everyone has to endure for three days of the year in their school days. How these people keep being re-hired year in year out when all they do is shout and smell of coffee always worried me at the time.

Glasgow was nice too, which was a surprise after constantly hearing it being used as the butt of many a joke. The central area by the stations was very smart, clean and didn't really look like gangland gun and crack territory. Although it could all be to do with where I visited. Tourists may say the same about London, but then its unlikely they'll have ever visited Tottenham. I was however disappointed by the lack of battered and greasy food. I spent an hour walking around the city this morning in search for a decent fry up and had to finally settle for a mediocre Starbucks panini. There are some stereotypes I wish the city had lived up to.

Its always good to have a bit of a change of scenery and I felt like I needed it, after two rather unfriendly London audiences at my shows on the weekend. I'll never understand why people will pay upwards of £10 to sit in a room and be hostile when I'm sure there's a good job in the police or army that they could take up and get paid to do the same thing without making me feel uncomfortable. Friday was a gig that I have not enjoyed before. A crowd that is encouraged to heckle and shout before the first act is on is never a good sign, and on Friday I did not have my heckle head on and suffered for it. I survived by spending the set thinking about the fact I was going to watch Cloverfield after the gig and what would happen if the dickheads who kept shouting out where to be eaten by a giant monster while I was on stage. I'd like to think that I'd stand there and chuckle. The truth of course is that I would scream a lot before also getting eaten, and actually dying on stage.

The gig on Saturday wasn't much better although this was helped by the fact that none of the big named acts before me had a good night either and so the death of me as the open spot was not quite as stand-out as it would have been otherwise. Again hostile boozed up stag and hen do's who would much rather have been rutting in an alley and fighting things than watching comedy. I tried to stay professional but only lasted 8 minutes instead of 10 and ran away. I was fairly sure that if I was a more experienced comic I could have turned it around a tad, but my thinking was changed when I watched the big club regular acts also suffer at the hands of idiots. The management were lovely and said they enjoyed my stuff and apologised for the crowd, which also perked me up a bit.

But the last two nights have boosted the confidence back up nicely in time for the rest of the month. Thanks Scottish peoples. The rest of February is filled with all sorts of shows including a storytelling night at the Museum of London tomorrow. Museum's at night are generally a bit scary because of all the dead things, but this sounds like it will just be very nice so I'm looking forward to it. Its also free and awesomeness such as Simon Munnery and Will Adamsdale are on, so you should come along. There, you've been told.

All I need now is for this train to pull in at Kings Cross sometime before 2009...