It's strange and eerie being in Edinburgh out of Fringe time. The place is both massively familiar and spookily different and it can be a little unsettling. So used to the place being frequented by comedians I occasionally found myself thinking I had spotted one of my peers walking towards me, but then realised it was just someone who vaguely resembled Davey Johns. The brain is a strange organ, perhaps the most uppity of all the internal parts of our body. All the other organs just get on with their job, but the brain hallucinates and gets delusions of grandeur. I blame the brain for a lot, whilst the kidney and the pancreas are the forgotten heroes of the body, cos they don't make a lot of noise about what they do. But you'd miss them if they went. With the possible exception of the pancreas.
You can cut out loads of the brain and still operate and when I am Prime Minister there will be compulsory lobotomies for all.
I had hoped to finish my script, but the day was eaten up with publicity interviews and driving and getting lost in Glasgow's complicated road system. Thank God for Sat Nav or I would never have found my way through. Which reminds me, when I was near Durham the other day, there was a town marked on the sat nav called "Pity Me" which did not appear to exist. I imagine this was some desperate plea from the programmer of the software. It made me laugh and it made me sad. Alas a quick google reveals that it was a real place - a href="
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pity_Me"> Look here. That's a shame.
By the time I was in my hotel I only had a couple of hours before I needed to be at the venue and I was so tired that I just shut my eyes and had a power nap. I really am being pulled in too many directions at the moment and have too much to do and it's incredibly stressful. But once the script is done then things will be a little brighter (even though I will have to get straight on with the new Edinburgh show).
The show seems to be back on top form and both the gigs at the Stand in Edinburgh and Glasgow rocked along. The end is clearly in sight now and I will doubtless miss doing this when it's over. Even though the gigging will continue in the run up to the Fringe.
I now have two days to get down to Cambridge. Where shall I stay tomorrow night? In a castle? In a town with a stupid name like Pity Me? Or in a Travel Lodge by the side of the motorway?
And will I finally get draft one of this script done between driving? Not if I waste my time writing this rubbish for you. Bye!
