Tag: Edinburgh Fringe Festival

Fringe Diary #12 : The End………….?

I don’t care WHAT you say, it’s not *art* unless it finishes with “The End…………………..?”

Well, here we are, the end of the festival. Andrew and I got up at 1:30pm. It is now 4:30pm and he has managed to fit an hour-long nap in that time.

Aaaand he’s just gone back to bed. Poor thing.

In fairness we’ve been out till 3am the last three nights. I felt very tired and groggy all day but dragged myself out to see Daniel Simonsen (a friend of Andrew’s from New York comedy). He was really really good – really like no one else I’ve seen. It was straight stand-up but he trained at Le Coq, the clowning school, so although his style was incredibly incredibly deadpan he had a slightly strange and alien element to his persona. Stand-up is often about making the familiar seem ridiculous, the performer takes things from their experience and they are made relatable to the audience. Watching Daniel’s set, it felt like I was taking a trip somewhere else – like being welcomed into his funny little world. It’s a bit tricky to explain.

After we saw Daniel and ate as much salt as possible in the space of 15 minutes we saw Kate Berlant’s Communikate. Ahhh Kate. She has such fab vaudeville energy, every single movement and vocal inflection was so performative and delightful to watch. Plus, her kind of slick and charismatic style, coming on stage and drawling that “the moon is obsessed with me; it followed me here” and that she was begged to do Edinburgh – it’s just so joyous. The self-conscious hyper self-deprecating style of a lot of stand-ups is really fun too but it’s very calming and nice to watch someone play at having a giant ego, I don’t know. It’s a very warm and sort of magnetic, attractive style that feels like having the most popular girl in school pay attention to you.


After hitting several bars and bumping into a few of the acts I’ve mentioned in this blog and me trying – and failing – not to fangirl over them, we ended up in a little bus by the Pleasance Dome with a piano in it (anyone who is at the Fringe knows what I mean, anyone who isn’t – I’m sorry but this is exactly what it was). Andrew and two strangers ended up giving a very spirited rendition of a few songs from Hamilton while I talked to some clowns. Wow, it’s going to be fun for things to be dull again …

Anyway, I’ve got to go and try and put together something for a storytelling night on Wednesday. Storytelling is fun and scary because it tends to be more vulnerable – the crowd doesn’t really expect it to be packed with jokes, they’re there to hear how you really think and feel about an experience. I’m going to try and keep this blog up because it’s nice! So don’t worry, this isn’t the end.


or is it……………………………………….?


(it’s not)

Fringe Diary #10

Hi again!!!!!

I feel incredible today. Yes I do. The sun is out. I just ate some avocado toast and some yoghurt and some grapes and I have had two coffees. I had a fancy brownie even though I definitely can’t afford a fancy brownie but I just love fancy brownies. I could eat 100 fancy brownies. Just try me. Especially if there is something weird in them like nuts or flowers or bits of gold.

Does anyone know a fancy brownie company that would like to sponsor a penniless comedian + her blog with a readership of 10 people? Let me know!!

Aaanyway, yesterday was one of my favourite days at the Fringe so far. After some flyering in the rain for Slanty-Eyed Mamas, who remain very great and cool megababes even if I was totally drenched afterwards, I saw Elf Lyons’s show ChiffChaff with Andrew and Kwame. It was Kwame’s choice and his treat actually (such a dreamboat!!!!) and I would have been so sorry to miss it because it was just a total delight. Again, in common with Rose’s and Demi’s shows, it was so silly, so vulnerable and absurd and mad and great and with so much talent behind it. There were a couple of technical faults at the start but because Elf completely took them in her stride. One element of the show that I really liked is that she gave some of the audience members tasks, at the beginning of the performance, e.g. one person had some maracas that they would need for a rendition of If I Were A Rich Man to come later on, Elf told another man in the front row that she would be “very sexually aggressive” towards him and asked for his consent, gave a woman a little bell to ring every time she found something funny “[so] you are totally responsible for my self-worth”. Everyone was already super invested in making the performance work, is what I mean, so when there was a problem with the microphone or something, the vibe in the audience seemed to be one of “we’ll get through this together!” I mean, Elf was obviously also super charming and charismatic too otherwise it wouldn’t have worked. Ah, it was so great. I was cackling away the whole time.

Lets get Fiscal.-2 - Elfy Lyons
*not representative of eyebrows in the actual performance

After the show, I rushed over to the Mash House for Free Footlights, which I ended up hosting at the last minute because somebody dropped out. I tell you guys, because I am trying to be as honest as possible here: it was by no means perfect. But it was hands down my favourite show I’ve done here. Watching Rose, Demi and Elf made me so much more excited about getting onstage, made me so much more confident in the sorts of things you can accomplish with a crowd, I don’t know. I just poured all of my energy into it, threw out my sarkier material, stuck to the sillier stuff, was honest about how I was unprepared but made sure to keep it funny. I hared through the acts to begin with which is a bad habit of mine, just because I’m not great at doing the patter in-between acts, but made up time partway through by getting everyone to join in with a knock-knock joke from HerInterest.com (I will blog about that another time). It was just so much fun. I did end up bringing on the last act by looking at my watch and saying “err um okay so how much more ado do you guys want?” which is by the way not a good question to ask a crowd who generally responds best to things they can either woo or shout a one-word response to. Little tip for you there.

It was a great vibe though and I left on such a high, the best best high I’ve had definitely. Ah, this is such a fun stupid thing to spend so much of my time doing. Fab.

Fringe Diary #9

oH NOOOO! no fringe diary yesterday???? have you deserted us?!?!?!
I hear you folks and don’t worry, I did write you one but didn’t have time to finish or publish what I was typing as I walked so here it is now!! 

The special feature of today’s fringe diary is that I am writing it on my phone as I march the two miles from Hetty’s into town. My legs are getting quite the workout in Edinburgh but don’t worry: I am still eating terribly!!

Yesterday was – excuse my French – flippin’ GREAT, once it got going. I’d booked tickets for Andrew and I to see Rose Matafeo and Demi Lardner and although I was pretty positive Andrew would like both, I hadn’t really told him anything about either of them so it was all riding on my taste.

But of course they were both just brilliant. Just sublime. Both just delightful energetic impassioned performances, simply joyous, wow wow wow. Andrew and I were talking about what felt so different and electrifying about the both of them and I think it’s a larger question about people’s underlying motivations for doing comedy in the first place.

Okay so forgive the mini essay here but the reason why I am generally less interested in straight stand-up by cisgender heterosexual white men is not because I dislike them or anything like that, nor that anybody’s voice has any less value. I think the reason why I would naturally be more interested in stand-up by women and people of colour, LGBTQIA+ and/or disabled performers, is that their motivation for performing stand-up is more likely to come from a compulsion to communicate something about themselves and their world that other people may not understand. Their voices are from the margins. (I say “they” because although I am a woman and as such have a somewhat marginalised voice, I’m still straight and cisgender and middle-class so I’m nevertheless in a position of privilege here.)

I have encountered far more “straight white men” comedians who perform in a way that seems to come from a desire to have control over their audience rather than to share something of themselves. Their style is often quite reserved, they are more likely to keep the audience at a distance, and the tone is more likely to be one that edges on cruel or mean-spirited. Again, I’m not talking about the demographic as individuals, I’m just saying that I have seen this kind of stand-up more often performed by this group of people. It may even be a masculinity thing – it’s very scary to get onstage and share something that you’ve written and that you’ll perform yourself, a rejection of it feels like (and sort of is) a direct rejection of you as a person. So it’s easier to try and be cool and exert less energy and keep that power. I mean, I’ve even performed gigs like that before. But a “straight white man” keeping the power and trying to be cool onstage is just the norm. They’re retaining their high status and it isn’t exciting. Whereas a performer like Dulcé Sloan, who is cool and reserved onstage, who does keep a very high status, is great to watch because her position as a black, plus-size woman means that she is challenging society’s treatment of her. Also, she’s just really funny.

Something I love about the show I run in Berlin, SAUCE, is that the whole vibe is joyous, energetic, silly and a bit girly. (The 7-min spots are reserved for minorities and there are two 5-min show-up-to-sign-up spots that generally go to straight men.) But the difference in the vibe, the fact that no one will come across as “cool” in that setting, it’s not a very hetero, macho bar or club setting but a community salon with home-cooked food, means that sometimes the “straight white men” or more bro-ish comics can really loosen up with their material. The last show I did before the summer, we had three young guys all turn up for the second of the open spots. They all have a somewhat similar, cool and reserved tone to their stand-up. I said that if they wanted to, they could split the time between them somehow and they agreed and disappeared up the street to rehearse. They came back just in time for their spot and said “please introduce us as ‘No Direction’,” and came on in formation as a boyband, each one performing about 90 seconds of their stand-up while the other two clicked their fingers behind them. It was so silly and the best I’d ever seen them, and I wonder if they’d have felt comfortable enough do that in a different setting, with a bunch of dudes trying to outperform each other.

I just love comedy that tries to reach out to you, something really earnest and mad and unashamedly absurd, something that wants to give a laugh to you rather than extract a laugh from you.

Fringe Diary #8B

Hiya folks, welcome back. My last post got a bit too long and if I’m doing 500 words for every 24hours then 900 words on a 4-min conversation is a lot.

So, to yesterday. I recovered from my verry emosh day by talking to Josiah on the phone for an hour. Josiah is brilliant for many many reasons but one is that they’re the kind of friend who will somehow make you feel better by just relentlessly making fun of you. I also rang them because I’ve got a storytelling show almost the moment I get back to Berlin next week and I’m thinking of telling the story of how we became friends and they basically showed me how being a girl is actually really fun. (We didn’t discuss this at all because we were too busy chatting about boys.)

My gig last night was a bit rubbish to be honest. It started out fine, I got some pretty big laughs, but then it just trailed off and died by the end? I’m trying to figure out quite what went wrong and it might have been that I didn’t get straight to my set but did some like “hey how’s it going?” stuff at first, but I’ve got a gig-free day to think about it. Comedy’s not as much of an exact science as you’d like, but also, I don’t like science.

Andrew’s spot onstage was just after mine and he won them back no problem, so I was really pleased for him (if a little jealous! but not really. but a bit). But the guy who headlined the show though, oof. I’m not one to throw shade, really, but this guy’s jokes were just so hacky and offensive. It was upsetting how he managed to get some response from the audience with jokes about how “men who identify as women and expect everyone should just accept them as that should have to take a test. Can they break into my iPhone in the time it takes for me to go to the bathroom?” and then closing with like a full minute of a fake Indian accent, talking about Bollywood dancing and squeezing women’s tits. It was frustrating because there are so many people who hate comedy shows because they’re full of people just easily getting laughs by playing off how some people are different, just reinforcing harmful stereotypes and it’s offensive, it’s boring and it’s unoriginal. There are so many really amazing comedians who are from a minority and who don’t get the time or space to tell their side of things, or to make fun of the perceived “norm”, because they’re still marginalised. They’re kept to a minimum on the bill, so that nobody thinks it’s a show for anybody other than this same “””norm”””. Representation matters people!

Phew okay by now my mum will be upset by how angry I sound so let me say also that I bought a lot of fruit today and that later I’m seeing Rose Matafeo’s show Horndog and then Demi Lardner (again), both super great and amazing comedians and WOMEN OF NOTE. I’m going to go eat an orange now, it’s good for scurvy

Fringe Diary #8A


[“Wow I really like Josie’s blog, especially all of the feelings in it. Really great” – You]

Okay this is a public service announcement:
Women never want to be spoken to by a strange man on the street. Ever ever ever. Even if you’re dazzlingly handsome, it is annoying and scary and confusing and makes us feel bad.

This morning, I was walking back from the shops with two big grocery bags, listening to Las Culturistas (which is very good) on my two very big headphones, in the drizzle. This guy in I’d guess late 30s, early 40s, and not handsome, runs in front of me, and cuts me off. I’m wondering if maybe something has dropped out of my shopping bag or something because I was just deep into the podcast, so I adjust my headphones.

HIM: Hi, hey. I wanted to tell you that you look like a giraffe with your long legs. 

Ah, okay, so, you know. What?

ME: Um, thanks?

Well, I guess he’s told me now. Goodbye, strange man! 

HIM: You have a bit of a Central European look about you. I was just in Poland, you look Polish or Hungarian but you sound completely Scottish.

I am none of those things.

ME: I am none of those things.

By this stage I know I am in too deep, I’ve engaged in conversation and I need to get away. This guy seems okay but I do not know why he wants to talk to me, why he feels he can come up and talk to me, I’m assuming it’s a sexual thing but he’s talking about stuff that isn’t sexual. I’m just assessing the risks, assessing the risks, assessing the risks.

HIM: So if you’re not Scottish I imagine you’re a student here at the university?

Well, too bad, I’m not based here. Not worth pursuing, mate.

ME: No I’m – I’m here for a couple of weeks for the festival.

HIM: Oh for the festival! Are you travelling alone, or are you here with friends?

Aha. I’ve got another card up my sleeve.

ME: No, I’m here with my boyfriend. We’re both comics – we’re performing.

This is such a bittersweet defence because it works, but it’s because what you’re saying is “no no no, it’s not that you should respect my boundaries – it’s some other man you’d be pissing off! Don’t worry, I’m still not really a person with my own thoughts and feelings!!!!!!!!!”

HIM: Oh you’re both comics! Right, right. Well I thought I’d come up to you because you looked interesting, with your green skirt and your leather jacket, and you know, you’ve got to take a chance and you are interesting.

ME: I’m sorry I’ve got to go – I’ve got to write before the show, sorry.  

HIM: No of course, I’ve got to go meet some friends. But listen you do seem really interesting so I’d love to take you out for a glass of wine sometime.

Should I just scream that I don’t drink? No, maybe it’s not the wine that’s the thing.

ME: Oh, thank you, I’m really sorry but I’m really busy with shows and my boyfriend, I can’t. 

HIM: How about I’ll just text you once, and you can reply or not. How about that?

That sounds reasonable? Is that reasonable? He just wants to text me, and loads of people have my number. Does it sound silly to say “no, I’m never going to hang out with you, EVER?”

A few years ago I’d probably have just been like “uh sure, fine” because it’s so easy for someone to make it seem like a reasonable request. He just wants a chat! He just thinks I look interesting!

But it’s not like I was going around on a flippin’ unicycle yelling “FASCINATING AUTOBIOGRAPHY, RIGHT HERE!” I was walking along with shopping bags and his first comment was on my legs. My legs! My legs don’t even drink wine.

ME: I’m really sorry, no. 

You’re not sorry, why did you say you’re sorry? Ugh.

The thing is, his perspective on the thing was probably “nothing ventured, nothing gained”. And like – he got to talk to me, for something like three or four minutes, even if I was just trying to figure out an escape route. So he got to get some of my attention, but why did he think that was okay? Why did I act like it was okay for him to just come up to someone who clearly is busy with whatever they’re doing, carrying stuff, listening to something, just to ask to hang out with me and then try and guilt me into giving him my number?

No, nobody hurt me or screamed at me or assaulted me, but it made me feel weird and bad afterwards because I was very uncomfortable and the man didn’t seem to notice or mind that I was uncomfortable and clearly didn’t seem to respect that I might have more going on than wanting to talk to him, and undermined my “no” to a drink with him by asking to text me. Yuckkk.

Fringe Diary #7

I feel tender as all hell today and every song makes me want to cry !!! Honestly, I never used to get why people wanted to watch films or listen to things that would make them cry until the split second I first got dumped and I made a whole playlist on Grooveshark called “no” that was just old old songs from the past of people who sounded like they were on the verge of tears? Mmm!! Top-notch crying!!

Great okay so a good and positive start to today’s blog. Yesterday I was asleep for almost all of the time, besides watching To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before on Netflix and it was very very good. More rom than com, arguably(?). But so so rom. And so great to see a WoC in a lead role, even if I have to say that all of her clothes are frustratingly good for someone who is supposedly 16. Of course it is great to have the Asian-American teenage experience represented onscreen but what about the shit clothes teenage experience? I once sewed a red studded belt to an old lilac floral dress of my mum’s and wore it over red skinny jeans with tartan Converse and thought “yes, this is good”. (In fairness, I first started become aware of fashion in 2002, so who could really blame me?)

Anyway, back to Edinburgh. My boyfriend got into town yesterday, he’s also a stand-up so we’ve sort of found ourselves on holiday together but separately. I went to meet him at the first gig he’d booked which turned out to be a 6-9pm “rolling” show with no emcee, which basically means it was a microphone in a corner of a hotel bar. Now, that’s not really how a comedy show works. Giving someone the basic technology needed for a comedy show doesn’t create a comedy show. Street preachers also have microphones but no one is psyched to watch them for 30 minutes. In the end Andrew didn’t go onstage so we just went in search of something to do before my Cosmic gig.

Yikes, it was a rough crowd. It didn’t help that I was pretty woozy and was using a lot of energy trying to pretend that I was definitely 100% well, but yikes. The two acts before me and the host had all had very tepid responses, but then I was a little scattergun. It sucked though because I know I could have turned them around if I had been feeling a little brighter, but ah well. At least I get to go up again tonight! Comedy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

oh p.s. I am better now thanks all good just needed to sleep

Fringe Diary #6

Fringe Diary #6

Omg who’s pumped for a blog post about me being sick ???

Because that’s what you’re getting !!! Give it up for your host, Josie Parkinson !!!

[crowd goes wild]

[I am rolled out on a sofa]

My guests tonight are: a plastic bowl, for my vomit! and: a lukewarm glass of water!!!

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

(I’ve been alone in the flat for a while now.)

Everyone has different approaches to feeling sick; my parents told my brothers and me early on that sometimes we might be feeling ill because of something psychosomatic. That’s a cool thing to learn early on, but it also means that I don’t so much get sick as I do fall into a crisis of what’s real and what’s not. Am I just feeling ill because I am ill, or am I feeling ill because I’m … feeling … ill?

So yesterday I thought I might just need to sleep it off. Instead I lay down for three hours, slept for 25 seconds and then thought “where does the word ‘spate’ come from?” and got up to find my laptop. By the time I needed to leave for my gig though I was so nauseous I cancelled it and then immediately threw up a lot. I timed it perfectly so I could change out of the top that Hetty had lent me for the gig, because for some reason I thought “no matter what, I am not puking in a chic black rollneck.”
But it was a bit nostalgic, to be sick, I was like “oh yeah! That takes me back.” You know? Yeah!

I’m a bit gutted not to have performed last night, especially since like, in and around the vomiting, I was actually quite good at making jokes maybe or Hetty was just humoring me oh dear she’s a good friend.

Lol um there’s really not much more to say on the previous day unless you want to read about dry toast and podcasts I like? Because dry toast – I’ve had some! And podcasts – boy am I listening to them! But boy – do I need a nap now!

Oh, I’m going to try and hobble over to my gig tonight. I feel sort of bad but I think in maybe a 24-hours-y kind of a way? Hopefully?
Do I look too sick to go on stage? Let me know in the comments !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Fringe Diary #4

Ah, yesterday was lovely, just lovely. But also I think I have scurvy? Like, really really quickfire scurvy?

Or I just ate a really pointy chip and it’s making my gums bleed.

Anyway, don’t panic, Mum and Dad.

Back to yesterday! Yep, fab day, chilled out, got a little taste of the mad world of flyering for punk rock comedy, Happy Lucky Golden Tofu Panda Dragon Good Time Fun Fun Show, which yes I can say five times fast, thank you. I turned up to the Location at 5pm sharp to be ushered upstairs by Kate and Lyris. They handed me a Hello Kitty hat, some flyers, some stickers, a promo t-shirt for their band, Slanty-Eyed Mamas. (They said it would be fine for me to wear.)

Now some of you reading this may think you know me. But you will never truly know me until you have seen me react to someone trying to hand me something in the street.
Usually I will automatically beam like a toddler at anyone smiling at me, before suddenly I realise what’s going on and make a split-second decision (split-second decisions are decidedly not my strong point) whether I want the flyer or not, whether it’d be best to just take it to please the person or leave it with them so that they don’t waste a flyer, and usually what happens is whether I take it or not, I’ll yelp something like “THANKS SORRY YOU SEEM NICE THOUGH BYE!”

So it was nice to be on the other side of that for a change, doing an hour of intensive flyering on the Mile as Slanty-Eyed Mamas (sorry) played some great and obscene music about stereotypes of Asian feminine sexuality. For some reason I only handed flyers to 100-year-old people with furrowed brows, and tiny children.

My gig that night went well, too! I’d briefly met up with my brother, his fiancee and some friends at The Auld Hoose, home to the largest nachos in Edinburgh which ARE THE VERY SAME NACHOS FROM THE PREVIOUS INSTALLMENT OF THIS DIARY. I do know this city! So I was in a cracking mood before the gig, having wolfed down an egg-cress sandwich very much behind a wheelie bin and definitely in the rain, which is my favourite meal. I unexpectedly opened the gig and it was no problem. I felt amped, a little tense but calm and excited for the show, i.e. the ideal mood.

By this point I’d realised that however well the early part of the set goes, to my mind it hasn’t been a success unless I get that big closing laugh. The length of my slot increased since there weren’t as many people, going up unexpectedly went from 5 to 7 minutes. So I did at first just chill out, riff a little, and talk to the crowd, which I’m getting fonder and fonder of doing as I get more confident on stage. But the extra time meant I didn’t find my way to an ideal, heavy-hitting closing line. I got a laugh at the last joke but it felt like a connector, not an ending.

Now … I could have just said “thanks, I’ve been Josie Parkinson, goodnight!” and felt a bit stupid and lukewarm about the gig.

Or, you could do what I did, which was say [and this is verbatim] “I’m gonna go now, so, um could you do me a favour and just laugh really loudly?”

And they flippin’ well did! Listen, here’s proof:

Anyway I have to go wash a bunch of make-up off my face and get to a show. I’m going to be performing at Cosmic Comedy 19-22 Aug at Espionage Edinburgh. Promo GIF below:


Fringe Diary #3

People are way too quick to just get drunk, when they have a bad show, and it’s like guys – have you tried, um, crying into a Choc Ice? Maybe get a second one as dessert? Sort it out.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Last night’s gig didn’t go quite as well as I’d hoped – I’d been looking forward to it all day, as I had a 10-min set and was verrry hungry to perform. It was a late show, in the Bier Keller of Frankenstein’s, and it was such a packed and lively crowd. I didn’t bomb, I did fine, but I just didn’t get the laughs you’d want from 100 people. Without wanting to get into another really lengthy piece of self-evaluation, I think the material I did was good, but the style was too polished and reserved for that crowd. They were all very happy to yell stuff out, they really wanted to be involved. Next time I’m in that situation, I’d do better to perform half the stuff I’d prepared and spend the rest of the spot bantering with the audience, or do a bunch of stuff that requires their participation. The crowd was drunk, their attention span was short, the biggest laughs came from spontaneous stuff going on in the room rather than my more downbeat sarky material which is basically me pretending not to have fun. Which is silly, because I am terrible at pretending not to have fun.

I’m even having fun giving myself homework about this stuff every day. You know how your favourite part of fitness is the bit at the start where you think “I’m going to get fit” and you imagine the fit perfect version of yourself just floating into brunches like “hi, it’s me, but I’m fit and perfect now” and all your friends are like “ah, wow” and you’re like “yeah”? Well, that, but for comedy, is what I’m doing. It’s great fun.

Oh, I saw some more shows last night and they were great! I saw The Russian Comedy Experience which was perfect for jokes about linguistics, bears and dogs in space; I saw my friend Kwame Asante’s simply lovely show “Teenage Heartblob”; and then Demi Lardner’s “I Love Skeleton” which was just the maddest hour of my life and it was just incredible. I am going to see it again next week and I can’t wait.

Anyway I’ve got to go, I want to rewrite all my jokes and then I’ve picked up some ad hoc promotional work. I thought it was flyering, now I don’t know what it is but I’ve been promised a Hello Kitty hat, and also some money ?
p.s. I’m sorry for the slideshow I thought it would be like gently funny
p.p.s. Mum and Dad I didn’t actually cry I was fine but I did eat an ice cream and a chocolate bar but I did have a salad for tea

Fringe Diary #2

Good afternoon!! I sat down to start writing this and immediately wanted to apologise for writing this in the first place when nobody asked me to, and that’s #womanhood

(Sidenote: surely more first-person novels should start, continue and end with: “um, sorry, not to make this all about me, but…”)

Anyway, it’s Friday afternoon, baby! and I have no gigs tonight. Yesterday I tried to just sit and hone my set and for those of you who aren’t writers or creatives, “hone” means I spent eight hours eating toast and listening to podcasts. I produced two (2) new lines so, you know, that’s like one new line for every two slices of toast which is really pretty economical. The gig went better than the previous night, but I’m still a bit annoyed at myself for not having more material that I feel comfortable with, that sounds like “me”.

(Everyone says Fringe is exhausting and I didn’t know if it was because of like performing a lot and drinking a lot and staying up late but it can also be exhausting because of RELENTLESS self-evaluation. Enjoy!!!!)

I needed a picture to spice the post up but didn’t take any yday so please enjoy this evidence of me drunkenly eating nachos at my last stint at the Fringe in 2014. A boy made out with me after this because THAT IS HOW POWERFUL I WAS AT 22

I’ve been toying with some new and more sort of dorky, smiley work for the last few months but it’s not ready, especially not with the Footlights where the style tends to be more “hello I am a Clever Student like a Baby Stephen Fry!!” The Footlights as a group do have a definite voice, though, which I’d never have noticed if I hadn’t grown as a comic outside of that scene and outside of uni, and of the UK. I don’t know if I can even call myself a British comedian, stylistically. Does this sound like … er … a thing? Comment below!!! This is an interactive blog, you tell ME what the heck I’m on about!!

After my show, I hung out with some of the guys from the show, which was lovely, before heading to Stamptown’s variety show at midnight (midnight! I’m such a grown-up). It had loads of clowning in it and although I wish I’d had more energy for it, it was totally exhilarating and a really great refresher course in how comically effective it can be to just play with sound and movement. For some reason, people dancing really energetically to loud music and then the music cutting out unexpectedly for someone to say one thing, before immediately going back to dancing to the music again, can be really funny. I mean, there’s only so much I could take away from it to think about in my own comedy as the show was pretty weird and wild – I don’t think there’s really space in my act to perform ballet butt-naked besides an Elizabethan ruff collar – but it was great to see something different, and cool, and stupid, and really just very, very silly.

So far, so much to think about and work on. This week has been very knackering for me, with more and longer sets than I’ve ever performed at the start of the week hosting two shows in Berlin and performing on a showcase, all to a lethargic over-heated summertime crowd … I went to bed last night at 3am so bleary-eyed, but thinking “lemme back up on that stage!!”