This is a blog about Edinburgh so I'm not going to bang on about the London riots. All of you are there, I am far away, so you know best. All I will say is that I was worried when there was news on the Twitter that Mitcham had been "hit". I called Mum about five times and there was no answer. I still haven't heard from her. Mum, if you're reading this, please get in touch, it's ok, I'm not angry with you, I just want to know that you're ok.
I'm watching it unfold overnight on Twitter and LBC. There are some marvellous people phoning-in. One man from South Mimms suggested that just one troop of paratroopers would sort all this out. If only London was run by LBC listeners.
Enough of that.
It was my day off today. It's stopped raining! It's stopped! I was determined to take advantage of being able to walk around sans umbrella. However, I had to work so I didn't leave until much later than I had hoped. Today was a day of intentions going wrong. I was going to see Nick Helm who stormed the festival last year, but that didn't work out and then I was going to see Nick Doody but walked down Slappers to help flyer... Mark has put the guilt on us all about not giving up on Slappers. I ended up filling a spot anyway and missed Nick Doody. I had thought about something funny while I was watching and tried it out... it got big laughs. A keeper!
On my way to another show, I bumped into someone who asked me to MC their gig later on which I did. This was a strange gig. Everyone who was not my sort of comic, it was all a bit in-jokey and I didn't enjoy it very much.
I then went to see one of my favourite comics on the new act circuit, Tim Shishodia. I am sorry and surprised to say that he died on his arse. Watching it was pretty painful. The audience were very young and, I suppose that, they didn't get him. I wanted to shout, he's better than this! You just don't get him!
I then sloped about for a bit and hung out gossiping with some pals before I then had a ten spot at a late night gig which was pretty quiet and wasn't received particularly well.
When I got home, my flat mate was outside the flat and beckoned me to be quiet. There was a homeless guy and his dog who had set up camp for the night outside our front door. I'm sorry to say that this isn't the first time this has happened to me. My flat mate had already asked him to move on and he was just very slowly getting his stuff together. He wanted a fiver and then he wanted some fags. I have him about 13 fags and he then asked for a fiver. "Do me a favour mate," I said, "that many fags is worth more than a fiver." He had a staffordshire bull terrier with him. The dog was lovely, very well behaved. It made me think about Jon's dog, Vera. Maybe he could pay a homeless person to train her.
All-in-all, I'm pretty low again. I keep waiting for it to get good. Perhaps getting my work done and dusted will help, that way I can kick back a bit. After all, this is my holiday too.
My final message is this:
in the style of Chris Crocker
LEAVE MITCHAM ALONE! PLEASE! SHE'S BEEN THROUGH ENOUGH!
I appreciate that I tweeted that a few hours ago but I thought it was funny.