OK, first thing's first - I need to fulfill the promises laid out in the last blog. Last week I was having a drink in the Pleasance courtyard when a girl approached me asking me if I would pretend to be Called Richard. It transpired that she had seen my show the day before and needed me to gatecrash a show compered by Mark Watson involving an 'Olympics' of fun with Richard Herring, David O' Docherty and Al Pitcher representing England, Ireland and New Zealand respectively. Not one to turn down a bit of fun, minutes later I found myself in her assembled gang of 'Richards' as she attempted to find more of them than other contestants could find Als or Davids. Make sense? I hope so. Anyway, the one problem with this is that all the acts on the bill knew me. This led to minor hilarity in the room when messrs Pitcher and O'Docherty staged a sit-in protest at this obvious subterfuge. The girl in question pleaded that even though I wasn't called Richard I was famous. Herring (The man I was trying to help) declared that I wasn't exactly that famous, except for in Hitchin. He had a point. Several members of the audience came to my show the next day. It was thus worth it, in my opinion and one of those 'only at Edinburgh' moments that make the Fringe, for me at least, special. My annual drunken evening with Anna Keirle was (as usual) unplanned but delightful. I bumped into her in The Loft Bar at a time when we were both well on the way to be honest. Amongst other things she informed me that I was to be honorarily enrolled into the order of The Blue Blazer, it being a pub specialising in rum at the wrong end of Grassmarket. Working on the basis that I have only ever really got stuck in to the booze there on one previous occasion, I consider it an honour and a privilege. I'm going to try and get there before the end of the week, obviously. The other day I was stumbling down Canongate in the now more regular rain when I saw this sign for the third year in succession and finally did something about it: |
Of course! An entire shop dedicated to Princess Diana memorial tartan! It's what every Scottish town needs! |
My mate Trevor Lock is having a tricky festival, in all truth. His venue is not ideal for him, his show is ticketed and the resultant small audiences have left him a little down in the dumps and also pushed a couple of reviewers to label his show weak. It's not. It's great. I dealt with reviewers in the last blog so I'm not going to bring this up again but suffice to say I think they're wrong. I saw the show a couple of nights ago and it's really funny. The "Best gag of the fringe" has just been awarded to Stewart Francis. Don't get me wrong - he's a great comic and it's an OK joke (As I admitted when interviewed on BBC 3Counties radio today) but I don't think it's as good as a throwaway line in Trevor's show which reads simply
"Now I'm no scientist, but I do look good in a catsuit"
It nearly made me spill my over-priced can of unpleasant lager (the only real offering in the venue that didn't make me wince on sight). Go and see him if you get the chance. He's not like other guys.
Trevor looking a little less keen on this handshake than my good self. Mind you, I had just told him I was going to kill him. |
Two hot chicks I let down in an Italian restaurant. At this point they still thought they were going to be fed. ALL PART OF MY EVIL PLAN. |
With my good friend Glen Wool. We have both seen better days. Well, we had that night anyway. |
These are probably my favouite ever pair of shoes and it seems fitting that I took this photo on Niddry Street. One of my favourite ever roads. I'll miss them both come the end of the week. |
This is a very bad photo of Erin and a girl wearing a rubber horse's head. My battery was too low to use the flash, thus making it even spookier. These things happen |
Tomorrow I'm being interviewed in the street by BBC Radio 4Extra. They want me to talk about my attitude towards The Fringe. I hope they're ready to strap themselves in. I am rather belligerent.