Oh yeah, you thought I was a boring, early to bed, early to rise old man, only concerned about my job. But today I drank five 33cl bottles of beer in the four and a half hours after my gig. That's more than 33cls of beer an hour. I didn't go to bed til 2.30am. Admittedly I fell into a deep sleep straight away, but that's not the point. I am a partay animal. I know how to ROCK!
Even the 40 year old me would be raising his eyes in disdain at my woosiness, but there's nothing I can do. I am rowing away from the island of my youthful disgracefulness and the current is too strong for me to ever return. Ah well. It was still fun to catch up with some mates, do an extra gig a little bit drunk (there was a brief, though not that brief return of my "Mars Bar" routine, which involves me saying Mars Bar over and over again with a slightly odd inflexion - it worked surprisingly well). And then up to Brooke's bar, which used to be my favoured aftershow hangout, but which I haven't frequented very much in the last couple of years. Once it was packed with people I know, but whilst there were a fair few familiar faces in there, there were an awful lot of unfamiliar youngsters in there. You know just in case I didn't feel old already. But Arthur Smith was there too. So at least there was someone older than me. I remember seeing him at my first ever Fringe, where he was already a famous stand up. He was propped up against a bar, drinking on his own, staring around the room and I wondered if that was going to be my fate as well, if I fulfilled my dream and became a comedian. It turned out it pretty much was. But I think both Arthur and myself have had more fun in Edinburgh that odd, lonely moments. Though I've had a fair few of those.
And if there is a King of Edinburgh then it most surely is King Arthur, whoever all the newspapers are proclaiming to be the monarch. He told me that it was still great to be coming up to the Fringe and that if you're a comic and not here in August then you're really missing out. He was right.
Both shows were good today, though I was a bit tired by the evening and tripping over my tongue a bit, but the podcast show was probably the best yet, with a really fun catch-up with my old mucker Al Murray.
Listen here.
And now we're definitively down to the last week. Tomorrow will be the last Tuesday of the Fringe and I have already done the last Monday of "What Is Love, Anyway?" (there is a Monday show of the podcast - with guests Adam Buxton and Seymour Mace - Book now). We're on the home straight and I don't feel as miserable or exhausted as I did this time last year.
And I drank five beers in four and a half hours. Did I mention that?
