Edinburgh 2010 - Day 10

Day... 10. Mond...

Yesterd...

Gig...

Rain...

Tired...

See ya tomorrow!

***

Oh, I suppose I'd better do it properly.

I've been in Edinburgh too long. The city is fantastic, but doing a performance a day gets a bit draining.

Of course, loads of people do multiple shows in a day, and do that for the whole month of August. But I'm just a simple man. I like the familiar sights and sounds of a home-cooked Lucy.

I'm ready to go home. (But then, I've been ready to go home since Day 2/Sunday/The Eve of St Gibrideon's)

Yesterday, was quite good though. The sight of home on the horizon has given me a bit of a boost, and I felt like going to see some shows.

In the afternoon, I went to see a stand-up called Martin "Bigpig" Mor. It was upstairs in a pub's function room, and there werzen't many people there, but it was a nice atmosphere. Mor didn't do much prepared material, but was extremely amiable and charming (even if he suggested I should be a Canadian called Mitch).

After wandering around for a bit, we went to see a poetry show in our venue, the Banshee Labyrinth, lured by the appearance of Simon Munnery and John Hegley. It was a fun show. I might start writing poetry myself. (Or I might just leave it on the shelf - RHYME!!)

We only got to see Munnery in the end, as we had to do some flyering. He was great, though.

Our show was one of the best yet. We had a medium-sized crowd, but they were very receptive. Everyone did well. (Also, I did one of Alex's jokes. Annoyingly, it got a really good laugh.)

Hmm. There were a lot of capital As in between those brackets. Probably my own subconscious, telling the world that doing a comedy show at the Edinburgh Fringe is like fucking the capital 'A'.

After the show, I had a greasy veggie burger in the pouring rain. There was something noble about it. Unfortunately, the noble thing was: nothing.

We went to a weird sort-of panel show, with few people and too many ideas. I was quite tired by that point, but not too tired to act like a dick in front of strangers. That's just muscle memory.

I got wet. I still haven't tried on my shoes. I hope they have been dried by some mysterious hot-air elves.

I think I'll have to burn everything I own when I get back. Too much walking, too much sweating, too much shouting.

I might become a monk. As long as I can keep my iPod, and still swear.

Basically, I just want to wear a cassock.