Tuesday 25 August 2009

It's the Pinnacle of Escorting.

I haven't mentioned the show in a while. Generally, it's been great. Our Sunday show was probably my favourite so far. It was nice to see the room (nearly) full. This is very probably thanks to a few mentions in the recent Collings & Herrin live podcasts. I know this because quite a few people waited around after the show to tell us where they heard about us and to say they enjoyed the show. We even had our first walkouts during that show. A dickhead of a man and two airhead fuck-holes of women who sat at the front and talked/texted their way through the first few sketches. Then, during the blackout before our Sex Change sketch, they left. I stormed after them and screamed CUNTS down the stairs of the venue. The audience seemed to like this. Especially those people sitting anywhere near the fuckers. For anyone who has seen our show, the three escapees left behind a little bit of irony: a load of wrappers and empty cups from O'Brien's Sandwich Shop. We obviously insulted their church. The best part of it was a MySpace message sent to me by a very nice person called James. James heard the three fuckers talking before going into the show. The man said "So if we walk out during the show does that mean I get to fuck both of you or just one of you?" Classy.

Only 6 shows left and I am looking forward to every one of them. Last night's screening of Mr. Jolly Lives Next Door just made me so happy that I feel I've no choice but to enjoy my last few days up here. I'll not lie to you, I was very nervous about talking to Nicholas Parsons and for a couple of good reasons. Firstly, he is in Mr. Jolly Lives Next Door and therefore I'm in awe of him. Secondly, because that afternoon Nicholas phoned me up to ask for my phone number. Now, that's odd behaviour in anyone's books. I thought, hmmmmm....tonight will be interesting. And it was. One thing that grips your brain first about meeting Nicholas Parsons is the little man in your head who continually whispers "For fuck's sake, don't swear in front of Nicholas Parsons". That is pretty much permanent. When he arrived, at midnight and remember he is 85, he seemed a little grumpy. I immediately asked him how he was. "Fucking tired" was the reply. Right. I can't swear but he can. New rules.

He was very impatient and wanted to get the whole thing started and get it over with. That was, until we started. When he saw that people turned up to actually see his film he became joy itself. I asked him a few sycophantic questions before the film and he pointed out that he couldn't really answer them because some people in the room hadn't seen Mr. Jolly yet and he didn't want to spoil it. I'm a fucking idiot. Thankfully, Nicholas stayed for the film and a brief chat afterwards. It was all really, really nice and I was nervous, sweaty and stupid. Still, I got him to say fuck twice to the audience and, if I do nothing else in this horrible blip between oblivions, I will always have that. Thanks to everyone who turned up especially the significant amount of people who had never seen Mr. Jolly before. Except one. The one who said that it wasn't that good. In front of Nicholas Parsons. He can cunt himself in his cunting face, the cunt.

Huge thanks to Lisa Keddie who organised everything even though she told people I did. She even said it was my idea. It wasn't. It was hers. I am simply taking the credit where absolutely none is due. Lisa is a credit to the Five Pound Fringe which is probably the most interesting thing going on in the fringe this year anyway. If you haven't supported the Five Pound Fringe yet then go to see one of the many shows today. I hear Superclump are good. And Trevor Lock. And King of Everything.

6 shows to go. Don't miss this opportunity to enjoy "two overgrown man-children" (Scotsman) at The GRV, Guthrie Street, 3pm, £5.

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