Still Ill

I'm still ill. It's been nine days since I contracted this flu-cold-achy-type-thing, and although I can feel it starting to go away the whole thing has really knocked me for six.

I came back from Edinburgh last Monday after spending all day friday and saturday in bed sweating my whole body weight in lemsip whilst listening to the reformed alcoholic who had fallen off the wagon a week earlier, getting pissed in the kitchen shouting abuse at the television at 3 in the morning... it was time to go home.

Edinburgh was fun though. 20 days, I concluded was enough. I'd committed to doing the whole festival, but wasn't tied to any gigs. All of the people I was sharing with were either doing their own show, or being involved as part of a show. In effect, I was the one with the easy life, but in the end I was less able to cope than they were - so fair play to them... the alcoholic (who lost his guitar and cancelled his show) aside.

Had to get out of the house last night as I was starting to get cabin fever. This happened to me before when I had a month off between jobs and was unable to leave the flat except to nip over the road to buy provisions.

So I headed down to the Bath House, which was heaving. I figured giving the problems they had with lack of acts last week may mean I stood a chance of getting a gig... Not so. I headed over to the Queens Head to talk rubbish to some comedians, and some people who want to be/or would like to think that they are... comedians.

Then I discovered that the Bath House was an act short from Richard Lewis, and was effectively offered a gig... but by this time I'd drunk myself out of the mindset of doing a gig, and besides I felt rough as fuck and really felt like going home.

I decided to do the gig.

I'm glad I did, as it turned out to be the best gig I have ever done. I am not one to congratulate myself when a gig goes well. Lots of comedians would like to admit that they 'stormed' or 'roofed it' when they only managed small titters of laughter in a room full of robots programmed only to laugh, but not me. If a gig goes well, it goes well. If a gig goes badly, it goes badly.

This one went well.

I think the audience really went with my new style coupled with the fact that I was full of cold. It made for almost a pathetic character as such. But I enjoyed it, and so did they. It was 15 minutes of bliss to be quite honest... I can't remember generating that many consistent laughs in such a long period of time, and 5 minutes was entirely new material.

I'm now lying down on my settee with a blanket over me, typing this, watching the cricket (which we're about to win), and keeping an eye on the Boro vs Charlton game (which we're about to lose).

I'm still ill.


cue Morrissey...


Does the body rule the mind Or does the mind rule the body ?
I dunno...

Ask me why, and I’ll smile Oh, ask me why, and I’ll die
And if you must, go to work - tomorrow
Well, if I were you I really wouldn’t bother
For there are brighter sides to life
And I should know, because I’ve seen them