OK, enough now, seriously.
I'm sick of thinking of how to start this bloody blog, I'm sick of drying myself in the smallest bathroom I've seen since I had a doll's house, incidentally, I don't think doll's houses have bathrooms do they? Hmmm... note that Beagley. I guess that most of them were made when no one had indoor toilets, like pre-1979 and currently in the north.
Last night, I didn't sleep particularly well. A number of my flat mates came in late and loud. One was outside my bedroom door on the phone shouting, "Bring drink! Bring drink!" It felt like penance for my behaviour between 1997-2006. I deserve it I suppose. So, indeed, I didn't sleep well. When I got up at 9.30 some people were still up, I was tempted to make some noise but couldn't even if I tried, I am naturally a quiet person, I eat quietly, speak quietly and even in my shouting, I'm pretty subtle. Wilting violet, me.
Romesh described last night's household as Hollyoaks - spot on.
Jon and I went to a cafe for breakfast, seeking decent food. It comes to something (I need to find a new way to express that) when I'm going to a greasy spoon to find decent food. We found it. I had a selection of fried goods and beans. Jon had everything in Scotland and was so pleased he photographed it on his phone but not after deleting a video of my stand-up to make room on his phone. I imagine that the food on the plate is better received and more consistent than my stand-up.
Tagline: Jon doing nothing to break the stereotype of builders enjoying fried food.
We came back to the flat for a kip for a few hours and then headed out to watch 5-star reviewed Adam Riches. I enjoyed it but am not sure if I'd pay to see him again. Jon hated it because it was heavily reliant on audience participation which Jon hates. Jon often gets picked on in comedy clubs because the lights reflect off his bald head and as someone incredibly self-conscious, he dreads it.
I had misread the AA meeting app on my phone and thought that there was a meeting starting near-by at the Salvation Army. The homeless (assumption) people outside told us that it started at 8pm and that perhaps, we could wait in the pub. Ha ha! Brilliant. The pub. Because we can't... ha ha! In my five years, I've never...
Off for dinner, back to the Cellar Door for this fucking Chateau Briand that I've been promised (I haven't been promised). The Chateau Briand materialised and it was very good except it was served with coleslaw - fucking Scottish. We also had a chocolate cake for dessert which was excellent if not way too big for a dessert portion.
Onwards to the Gilded Balloon where Jon, Tom and I were due to see Daniel Kitson's best friend Claudia O'Doherty at 8.15. Tom had mis-remembered and the show was actually starting at 8.45 meaning that we had to choose between seeing CO'D or James Acaster who started at 9.45. Exciting decision. We went for James Acaster and Tom forfeited the tickets he'd bought. He said that it was revenge for me making everyone miss the train to Edinburgh exactly one year ago today. That's some long grudge. Well done Tom.
We watched James Acaster who had been hotly tipped before the festival. His reviews hadn't lived up to the hype but I decided to book tickets anyway. The room held 55 and has sold out most nights. At 55 seats per show, this isn't a huge achievement but I guess it's part of the hype. I enjoyed it but felt that he didn't have enough to fill an hour. I'd like to see his 20 minute club set, I'm sure it's very tight.
My feet are a mess despite wearing proper shoes to walk in most days. I've had trouble with the bottom of my right foot for a while due to the divvy way I stand on stage (I think) and the stupid cheap pumps I wear a lot but my feet have swapped and my left is worse than my right has ever been. A trip to the chiropodist is required on my return.
Six nights to go. I can't wait to take September off. I may very well take October and the rest of my life off. MJ text today to say that he wants to take a sabbatical and have a rethink when he gets home too. I'm sure this happens to everyone after their first full run. Anyway, if I never look out at an audience ever again, it will be too soon. That's right, I said it.