So my time at the Edinburgh Fringe has been over for a week now and already it feels like a lifetime ago. Like all dreadful memories I have already supressed it and moved onto new abuses. One day I hope I am rich so I dig up all the memories from the mental subfolder I have put them in and then afford the therapy to deal with it. One might argue stand-up is therapy in which case my life is a perfect model supersymmetry and recursion.
I spent 3 days in bed with headache and then another 2 in a daze. I was pulled from my mental fugue by 3 days of gigging over the weekend.
I had been approached by a promoter to do a gig for them on Friday but this did not happen as they had not confirmed with me despite 2 Facebook messages and a text from me, by that morning of the gig. This was extremely frustrating as I had a sentimental attachment to the gig in question. The promoter was one I did some of my very early gigs with but I doubt now I will be doing any of my later gigs for them.
Then I went off to do the wonderful Brownstock Festival near Woodham Ferrers in Essex. It took me an hour to get to Chelmsford then about an hour to travel the few miles from Chelmsford to Woodham Ferrers. I had a rather fun gig despite the stage being the floor of a truck and my trying to compete with a ska band pumping out from the other stage.
It was a reunion of sorts for me as Paddy Lappin, formerly of Norwich was there. He goes by the name of Patrick now he has moved to London.
Ponce.
As was Alex Holland and Will Howells. Yes dear reader, it was a 3 Man Roast Reunion except they were perfroming later than I and I left before they went onstage. I was the John Cleese of the comedy partnership that night. Paul Duncan McGarrity, the compere of LOTWAA was there also making it quite the squared circle.
After an arduous journey back I was back in Norwich for a gig at the Hog in Armour (a pub I always wanted the rename the Lusty Pig). I have done a lot of gigs in this pub and most of them, despite having great potential, have been pretty awful due to the pub's insistence of having us in the main bar. Where we are generally presented with a disinterested group of natives whose sole desire is to drink until they are brave enough to try and pull the barmaid.
This time we were in the fantastic function room upstairs and it was a lovely homecoming gig post-Edinburgh. I shall be back next month doing all new material.
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