I walked to the Pleasance in the rain this evening. I hadn’t had a chance to get to the gym due to my second hangover of the Festival. In fact I had pretty much just played poker online all day long – what finer way to live.
I was aware that the rain was bad news. Not only were the bottom of my jeans dragging in the puddles, but I knew that such a downpour would put off the casual punter from walking to the Pleasance, and chancing across my show. Maybe that punter would work in the yoghurt industry and think that this was the show for him. But all the rain would mean he would stay in and watch TV instead, whilst merely eating yoghurt, rather than watching a man talking about it.
As I crossed North Bridge, to which all my Edinburgh roads seem to lead (and where my final journey may one day end), I noticed that some enterprising leafletter had decided to publicise their show by sticking their leaflets on to car windows, utilising the abundant rain to make them stick. You can imagine how pleased the car owners were going to be when they returned to find pulpy paper sticking to their vehicle. I imagine their first thought would be, “Wow, I must go and see that show. After all, that was in no way an annoying thing to do and I think this brilliant piece of enterprise must be rewarded by me buying tickets for all my friends and family.” Or maybe they wouldn’t think that. Who am I to guess how others might feel.
On the pavement on North Bridge was another one of those balloon animal balloons, again lying bereft in the street but not trying to look like a snake this time. It seemed a weird coincidence that so many Warming Ups should be linked by this forbidding span.
Seeing the news that Hunter S ThompsonÂ’s ashes have been fired into the ether in a firework makes me wonder if this is all a sign of some kind. After all it was from here I saw the firework the other day that made me wonder.
Maybe I could end my days being projected off of this bridge after all. Once I am dead and cremated they could put me in a firework and shoot me off of North Bridge (preferably whilst all the celebrants of my existence wear hats made out of balloon animal balloons. And then once my dust has exploded into still finer dust and is showering down on this city that has pissed on me for the last 18 years (though as with the current shower I have enjoyed much of the pissing), everyone could observe the cloud that was left behind with more delight than the brief firework that had exploded and disappeared and consider the nature of mortality.
Then in accordance with my other funereal wishes, all the female mourners could lezz up.
After a week of sell-outs or practical sell-outs numbers were down to about 90 tonight, but they were an appreciative and clever audience, who gave me more reaction than yesterdayÂ’s sell-out. They had all liked me enough to battle through the rain to see me. And without the fair-weather walk-up contingent there were few people looking at me blankly wondering why on earth anyone would consider what I was saying to be amusing. It was a lovely show that I enjoyed despite my damp ankles and hangover, so thanks to those of you who made it along. You are all welcome at my final firework display.
And good news for yoghurt fans everywhere, though more especially here in Edinburgh this week. Look it-
EXTRA SHOWS
Just the Yoghurt – Richard Herring will be attempting to extend his routine about buying yoghurts to a length of at least 60 minutes. It promises to mix tedium and hilarity in equal measure, making it an unmissable Fringe experience. Do you have what it takes to make it to the end of this Marathon exercise in pointlessness? Only those of an iron constitution should attend. Guaranteed the most yoghurty show you have ever seen, or your money back.
What the press have said about Someone Likes Yoghurt
“Lively, hilarious, part-sublime, part-ridiculous…. If only more Edinburgh shows were like this. Chortle ****
“The premise – an innocent conversation with a supermarket check-out girl – is somehow channeled into obscure but brilliant comedy and layer upon layer of unnecessary detail is gleefully added. It is, as Herring cheekily suggests, a triumphant experiment in the art of tedium.” Fest ****
“His extended routine about yoghurt was the purest distillation of Richard Herring I have encountered – irritating, relentless, pathetic, petty, pedantic, arrogant, embarrassing, pointless and endlessly funny.” Sunday Times
“Remarkably clever and very funny.” Three Weeks ****
THREE SHOWS ONLY!
24th, 25th and 27th August at 11.05pm. Pleasance Besides.
Box Office 0131 556 6550
Tickets are a mere ÂŁ7.50 with ÂŁ6 concessions.
