Fringe Day 5: Johnny 5 Gigs and Audience Reviews 1

RUNNING

I went for a run again this morning. This is mostly thanks to the fact that last night I actually slept. Yep. Really really slept. I drank no booze yesterday and then had a sleep. You may as well hit the reset button on my brain because I am brand spanking like new today. I am not wearing brands though and most certainly will no one get spanked. Instead I am just going to eat real food, like stuff that hasn't been entirely immersed in oil as though to suggest it was pulled straight out of the Gulf of Mexico and thrown straight into a pan. I'm also considering not drinking again today, but as I'm hosting a show with Keith Farnan tonight at the Cow Cafe and we are only getting paid in booze, I see this could be a huge problem. Well its the thought that counts isn't it? Unfortunately my thoughts only count up to 5 and then think about booze. Hmm. I might have a problem.

Anyway, I realised the problem of going for a run in Edinburgh. In London when I run, no one knows who I am and I don't care who witnesses my legs flailing around like a cat caught on a ceiling fan, while I huff and puff harder than a big bad wolf with asthma. In Edinburgh though, its a bit smaller and there's an awful lot of people I know around. Today, I ran past Josie Long and Mark Watson. They have both now seen the malco run and I had that awful moment of self awareness that said 'I probably look like a twat'. Its amazing how concious you can be about being healthy, yet if either of them had seen me wolfing down a bag of chips or a large ice cream by the fistful I'd have been fine about it. Either I need to stop caring who sees me run, or start running while eating chips. Or just eat chips. Hmm that last one sounds good. Tonight = booze and chips.

TOM'S PANTS

You learn certain things about your friends when you live with them that you didn't know before. I've learnt for example that Luke makes a great cuppa, that Danny will never finish a show by the time Edinburgh starts, that Nat actually like the 3rd Mummy film and then there's Tom. Tom has a bizarre kleptomaniac need to steal things from the bathroom and put them in his room and likes to walk around in his pants making strange gestures in order to freak people out. These gestures involved pulling his pants up as high as possible and gurning or, as he did yesterday, sneaking up behind me trying to kiss my ear. I'm assuming these are 'hilarious' pranks and not some sort of attempt at a mating ritual but either way I'm going to get a lock on my bedroom door as of tonight. Actually to be honest, I'm oddly unphased by his strangeness, but this worries me as I'm not sure what he'll do to up the anti-next. I'm so getting a lock on my bedroom door.

5 GIGS

Yesterday I did five shows. Its my fault for being a stupid 'Yes' man and not saying 'no fuck off' instead. Luckily all five were ace. You've read about the radio show yesterday so here's an uber quick run down of the other four:

Gig 2: Quiz In My Pants - This is a lovely afternoon free quiz show gig run by Laura Lexx, Nicola Bolsover and Dan Carter-Hope which mostly involves everyone, including the two guest comics, wearing pants, answering mad questions and doing various bonkers things. Yesterday the guests were myself and the excellent Jay Foreman and highlights included the audience nearly getting more points than both teams, Laura finding a fellow IBS sufferer who cheered about having it, and the discovery that no one really knows who all the Backstreet Boys are. I'm doing it again today so you should bloody well come along. To entice you, here's a picture of me in my pants. Warning, its seriously sexy time pictures and its not for the faint of heart:




Gig 3: For 21 Nights Only at the White Horse - Another free one, which was much fun. It was all made better by a man who worked for BP being in the audience and when someone knocked over their beer, he was unable to deal with the spill. Aces. Top compereing from Ben Van Der Velde, and lovely sets from Rhys Jones and Carly Smallman too.

Gig 4: My show. See below for more info on this, but overall it was a lovely lovely show despite four people who didn't enjoy it but thankfully left.

Gig 5: PBH and Some Other Comedians at the Cannon's Gait. Ace show to finish the night on, not least because the PBH insists on bringing each act on to the audience singing a piece of classical music. You know they'll be lovely when they can do the ending of Pachabel's Canon. Evening was made better by someone telling me after about their friend in Brighton who did their insulin whilst under a bridge and was arrested by police for being suspected of taking drugs. Brilliant.

AUDIENCE RATINGS

As of today I will be putting audience ratings of each night's show in these blogs. Edinburgh always seems to be about the act getting judged so I am turning the tables on such things and judging each of you every night. If you were in the audience, feel free to take the ratings to other shows and use the quotes to ensure you get better seats and are respected or hated by the acts depending on how you acted during my show. This may well affect your career as an audience member after the show, but it could also ensure you have a long and happy life as a top punter and could even win the Edinburgh Festival Award for Best Laugher. So backdating to Thursday:

Show 1: 5 stars. That's right. First night they combined a healthy dose of laughing with a willingness to not groan at the bad jokes and yet a sensible quietness through the longer story bits. They were nearly let down by one person getting up to wee halfway through, but successfully regained their composure on her return without much fuss. Recommended.

Show 2: 4 stars. I was going to give this group 3 on account of how they were perfectly nice but smiled rather than laughed at certain bits. I felt that whilst the potential was there they never really lived up to their hype, but managed to maintain a steady attention span and the occasional loud guffaw that kept me reassured they were infact all ok. This was boosted to a 4 star by the instant gratification of some nice twitter messages afterwards which shows they were nicer than they let on. They clearly just had communication issues and hopefully this is something they can work through at different shows.

Show 3: 5 stars. Sorry Thursday but this was my favourite audience yet and I'd highly push you to let them into any show. Despite some grumbles with a few people who weren't enjoying it, the audience overcame this problem by telling them to leave and eventually pushing them out and leaving merely the creme de la creme of audience types. Well timed laughs, the occasional ;'aaah' and one fully acceptable groan. These guys have the potential to win Britain's Got Audience.

Tonight's audience review will be up tomorrow.




Four shows to do today but first a fat filthy breakfast. I hope Josie and Mark witness me eating it just incase they now think I'm some sort of running dick.

Fringe Day 4: Peamar Buttmite

PEAMAR BUTTMITE

I decided about ten mins ago to eat a peanut butter and marmite sandwich. Its been recommended a few times and each time I've slammed down the thought whilst casting a look at the thought provider as if to say their mind is full of wrong. But then today, I've clearly embraced the fringe by its horns, for I took the relative ingredients and placed them on some 'Best of Both' Hovis before wolfing down a what appears to be a seriously awesome sandwich. That's right. A peamar buttmite sarnie. Well done Edinburgh, you've given me something good this August. Best of Both is a lie though. It seems its impossible to spread anything on it without whatever spread you are using just sliding around the piece whilst gathering tiny troops of crumbs from the surface but never actually creating an even mix. There was one part of my peamar buttmite sandwich that contained a tiny ball of concentrated saltiness and now all I can taste is the sea. With peanut butter in it. I don't see, Mr Hovis, how that is the best of both? Never have any point have I been eating either white or brown bread and thought 'you know what this is missing? A surface area like a whiteboard. That's what'. Maybe what I'm missing is that when they state 'both', one is bread and the other is office stationary equipment? More fool me for not thinking it through perhaps.

SHOW 2

Show two last night was fun but not as much fun as the night before. It kicked off with two people in the room who were meant to be in another show, which they exclaimed and then left, which is always good. Then the rest that were left were smilers not laughers. Certain bits just didn't fall as well as Thursday which totally smacks the phrase 'first the worst, second the best' in its face. I did enjoy it, I just left the stage feeling more exhausted than I expected. Then someone put something lovely on Twitter about it and I got all happy again and went drinking. Essentially, what I'm stating is that I need my ego catered to at all times like a huge baby. However my liver would like you not to do that please and so misery equals healthiness. Fingers crossed tonight's crowd are mediocre and can't use the internet as I really need sleep.


KEITH FARNAN

I saw Keith Farnan's show yesterday. You should go see it to. Its impossible not to love his hairy Irish face and he has that wonderful blend of talking about very serious things whilst being really silly about them. You leave with knowledge and a huge grin. Perfect combo. Like peanut butter and marmite. He also has a brilliant video at the top that is still making me laugh. Go book tickets now.


THE MACHINE

This morning I was a guest on Fresh Air radio for an hour with fellow comedian person and co-difficult name holder extraordinaire, Yianni Agisilaou. It was much fun and Yianni is far too good at linking things. He's like a verbal chain welder. Anyway, I was exhausted and it appears I am much angrier than I thought about the fact that Florence and The Machine does not involve any sort of machine. I mean, to be fair, she says she has a machine and I imagined it to be a bit like Bertha, and it'd be carted onto stage while several men in overalls have to press buttons and music comes out. But no. No machine. Total let down. I bet Marina doesn't have any diamonds either. And Martha's Vandellas, well, I don't even know what a vandella is. I assume its an Italian vandal? I didn't see any of them when I saw her live, that's all I'm saying.


I'm doing four shows today, including my own. I'm clearly an idiot.

Fringe Day 3: Show Numero Uno

It doesn't matter how many previews you've had, how well prepared you feel or how many Edinburghs you've done, that first fringe show is the most terrifying thing in the world ever. Except for maybe werewolves. So apart from werewolves, its definitely the worst. God forbid anyone that does a first fringe show with werewolves in it. Up until yesterday I was feeling fairly pleased and calm about everything, and then, about 3pm, a troupe of butterflies subtly entered the stomach and flapped around like bastards. This continued until about 6 where sheer panic set in and I sat in the Caves bar looking over the same notes again and again and again till the words that I already knew were etched so far into my brain, if I was decapitated you could read them like age rings on a tree. Its a stupid feeling and completely unnecessary. I've performed this show in so many different venues now, so why does this one mean anything else? I think its because no matter how much I pretend its just me enjoying doing my show, I know it all leads to reviews and further work and various things that could actually affect my career in the immediate future. This is slightly more pivotal than the lovely 30 people in a room in Cardiff. To be fair one of them bought me a diet coke at the time, but its not quite the same.


But it went well. I fear typing it out, but it really was a lot of fun. More than that, something really really nice happened. A member of the lovely audience heckled me. Heckle? In a fringe show? That's not nice surely? Well, it wasn't a heckle, so much as a lovely reference to last year's show. Oh and don't call me Shirley. It meant that that person had seen last year's show and returned. How bloody nice is that? I was properly touched by that. And at the end a couple came up to me who'd seen last year's show as their first show of the fringe and this year they made sure mine was the first show they saw again. I properly got all a bit embarrassed at how nice that was. So surely Douieb you should be all happy now and excited about tonight? Well, and please don't call me Shirley anymore its really annoying, yes you're right. But - and this is a big but. Its almost a booty - now I'm worried the precedent has been set rather high and that tonight's crowd will be horrible and it'll all go wrong. This is the stupid mentality I'll have pretty much every night for at least the next week till I do have a really bad show (there's always one) which is filled with all the important critics et al and then decide it really doesn't matter and just enjoy myself again. For a day or so. Then panic again. I almost wish I was just having to battle a werewolf for a month.


Went to the Stand party last night. Bloody love the Stand. It never stops being one of the best venues ever. There were several parties on last night and some of them probably had people there that I should've talked to, but the Stand party is always full of people I like talking to. There is a large difference there, though to be fair either would've ended up in whisky and another late night. I'm resigned to the fact that I'm going to be part whisky till September. Still this means I'll be great at frothing egg yolks. Arf. Geddit? Geddit? Huh? Sigh.

Oh and currently I've sold absolutely zero tickets for Sunday, so if you could all come along then, it'd be great. Thanks.

Fringe Day 2: I Can't Get No Sleep

I got to bed at 4am, I woke up at 9am. This is clearly some sort of hilarious farce being played by my body clock. I'll be honestly with you blogees, I am less than happy about it. I'm not even happ. Or ha. Just annoyed. Its clear my internal time keeping machine is pissed off with the rest of me, and insists on playing some sort of trick. Maybe its because I insist on staying up until 4am that has made it say 'well if you're gonna keep me up, I'll be returning that favour you prick'. Maybe its delayed payback from the last time I flew somewhere far away and hit it with jetlag and its since been sitting dormant waiting for its moment to stick bags under my eyes that could most of a family for four's weekly shopping in. Its probably entirely that I have my first show today and a combination of nerves and excitement mean that every time the eyes close the brain is dilly dallying with whether or not to change this bit or that bit, or maybe I should scrap it all and just do a jazz hands dance for 40 minutes to the tune of 'Hello Ma Baby', before finishing with putting a goldfish bowl on my head and pretending I'm in space. SEE? THAT'S HOW TIRED I AM? While I don't feel that bad right now, a crash is sure to occur soonish and I'm scared I'll keep over walking through the Meadows later today and no one will help me as they'll just assume I'm one of the many people who keel over in the Meadows. (No one keels over in the Meadows, but let's get that rumour started nowish. We'll say its to do with the slipperiness of the grass and a sidewards angle of hill or something.)

I can't complain really. It was another day of much fun yesterday involving such highlights as:

- Inventing the word 'scientriffic'. This is scientific, only terrific.

- Doing the Chortle Fast Fringe which was much fun, even though I had to follow Bo Burnham who's bloody good and stole my notepad. FACT. (This was just to use as a prop, but I may start the rumour that he's taken all of my jokes ever and I've had to write a whole new show).

- The Caves party where I mixed drinks like an alcoholic DJ with turntables made of tiny plastic glasses. I'm not sure how that would work but I like the image. Imagine it. Go on. They also had a lot of retro sweets and that combined with the lack of diet coke to have in my JD and coke, means this little diabetic had enough sugar to last him till next year. Oh......that might explain the lack of sleep.

- My tech show. The mic works, as do the lights. Hooray. Easy. Its really nice to have a show lacking in props or clever technical wizardry. Saying that, I do still need jokes and a show. Sigh.

- Meeting the flyerererererers. They all seem lovely and enthusiastic. I will do my best to keep them that way as I watch them standing in the rain for three hours handing people bits of papier mache that used to be my flyers. Flyers are by far the hardest workers at the fringe. Sure the performers, agents, promoters and that do a lot of important stuff, but if those chirpy dudes and dudettes didn't push aside all dignity to wave bits of shiny paper at passers by, it would all be pointless. What I did realise yesterday, is that no matter how many years you come to the fringe, you will always end up carrying at least one heavy box of your flyers somewhere further away than you want to. This happened to me yesterday and I'm glad I've got it out of the way early. I do think the name 'flyer' is hugely deceiving when in boxes they don't so much glide above the air, but more just act all heavy and unwieldy. I like the word unwieldy. I don't think anyone ever uses the word 'wieldly' and so well done that 'un' for getting a whole word all to itself unlike some of its siblings. Like unlike. See? TIRED. ARGH. So yeah, flyers should be called heavies. Only then they'd have to be bouncers at clubs or security for criminals.

- I nearly got a free muffin and coffee thanks to my charm. The fact I didn't shows I have no charm. Not even a gypsy charm. I never worked out why they are also charms. When someone describes you as hugely charming I will now believe that means they are much like a tiny silver four leaved clover. Or a horseshoe.

- Saw lots of Get Comedy people with beards: Keith Farnan, Jim Jeffries, Rob Rouse, Pete Johansson. Paul B also has a beard. This now means the only non-beardies at Get Comedy are Carl Donnelly who I think would look creepy with a beard, and Brett Vincent who shaved his beard off yesterday because he clearly doesn't want to be part of the beard gang anymore, like a loser. All of us beardos are definitely the coolest. If any of our chins are ever wanted for a crime, they'll be safe due to beardiness. If someone out there needs a person who has a body part rhyming with 'weird', they'll pick. So many plus points. GO BEARD!

- I ate a bun. It was alright.

And now, today will be spent wishing I was asleep then hugely panicking about tonight's show even though I really shouldn't. I will probably go over it a few times today like a drunk driver reversing and forwarding over a dead cat until there really is nothing left. That'll be my show tonight peeps. Roadkill. Unwieldy roadkill. Scientriffic.


Oh and (yawn, sorry) tickets for my show are still available, so please buy them all up. Thanks. Links are on the front page of www.tiernandouieb.co.uk

Day Fringe The Firstest

DOUIEB'S LOG WEDS AUGUST 4TH 2010:

Tee hee, log. Tee hee hee. Ahem. Dear world, it is officially day one of the Fringe today, though my show doesn't start till tomorrow because (delete as appropriate) a) I'm hella awesome and the Fringe waits for me, beeeyaaaatch, b) I'm in a venue that doesn't start till tomorrow, c) I am on today but I've forgotten, or d) all of the above. Hopefully you'll all have chosen either a) or b) as they are the truthest. I do have a show tonight but its just the Chortle Fast Fringe which requires me to do all of 4 minutes of material. Easy huh? I've written an hour and shizzle, surely I can slam out four minutes in a flash? Or at least in four minutes? Thanks for your votes of confidence, but its slightly stressing me. I can't help but feel that while Tom, Nat and Ginger and Black are all pacing around stressed about doing their full hour today for the first time, they are being hugely selfish ignoring me with all my four minute stress.

To be perfectly honest, I'm a tad jealous of everyone starting today as I feel now, one whole day into my Fringe sentence, that I just want to get started and am nothing if not a bit bored. Yesterday, as a result of boredom, mostly revolved around bowling down the road like a Victorian urchin with Paul Byrne (and yes, actually like a Victorian urchin with hands on braces and a proper cockernee stride) and making ridiculous Edinburgh rules. This now means that everyone who went to a certain party last night will be deemed a loser till they are 47, that Matt Blair can only ever be referred to as 'MaaahhhhBleeeeaauuuurrgghhh' and that my next year's Edinburgh show will generally revolve around a single punch and a series of hypnotic body movements. Oh and there were a lot of discussions about Ian. You know. Ian Ian.

This was before I'd even started drinking, after which things just turned for the worse. I generally got louder, more irritating and I somehow ended up strolling home at 3.30am with two of the awesome flyerer crew from last year, Katy and Carl, before accidentally finding myself in an empty graveyard, a bit scared and nowhere near where I live. None of this is conducive to my Edinburgh show or well being in anyway and I really need to curb this a tad till I'm up and running. Not actually running. Though I did do that today. Whilst still drunk. It was attempt number one to start the Fringe afresh and be healthier today and more sensible, but if anything I was already dehydrated and by the time I returned back to the flat I could have been crumbled into flakes and kept in a cool dry cupboard for later seasoning.

I will do some work today. I also must buy coat hangers. Our flat, despite being hugely lovely and the landlord leaving us wine as a moving in pressie, has assumed we only wear clothes that need not hang. I presume whilst he has this supposed facade of welcoming us, he also knows we will just drink wine and wear creased clothes like a bunch of ruffians. Well I'll have you know landlord, that I demand coat hangers and I will hang my tshirts up before still not ironing them and then drinking all the wine. Then there are more parties, more drunk self loathing and no doubt more ending up in a graveyard worrying that I'm already surrounding myself with death that my first stage appearance shall be jinxed with more of the comedy same. Woohoo Edinburgh I have so totally arrived!


Oh and if you haven't already, you can get a full minute of my new Edinburgh show for free by subscribing to my podcast. If you wouldn't mind doing such things, that'd be lovely. Also if you could then tell other people to do the same, that'd be lovelier. Ta. Here's the linkage to listen to it without subscribing:

FREE 1 MINUTE OF 'LITTLEST THINGS'

Or you can go to iTunes and type my name in and stuff.

Back To The 'Burgh

This is a danger blog. By that I mean the train wifi is being more up and down than a bipolar lift and has already ruined several attempts at email productivity. So chances are, it will go out of its way to ruin my blog too. This is by no means the worst beginning to an Edinburgh I've ever had, but sadly after the not great year that all began with a cancelled train and standing for four hours in a boiling hot carriage, I've decided the first train journey is an indicator of what will follow. So this year I'll fail to connect with anyone for more than a few minutes and be generally irritating. Or not.

Actually I can't wait to get up there this year. This is that bit of me, that as always when beginning my annual Groundhog Day of waiting at the Kings Cross train station while Am Dram students prance around with far too much energy and bags of props, where I think 'Oh no, here we go again.' But actually I can't wait to step off the train, and not just because its boiling hot. No, its because I want to see the castle and throw myself into the madness of the fringe for another year. I actually - and forgive the honesty and perhaps lack of gags in this blog - feel fairly pleased with this year's show. Shock, gasp. I know. It feels like its a step up from last year's and my final preview at the Compass yesterday went well which, touch wood, will hopefully mean at least a handful of people in Edinburgh won't write horrible things about it on www.edfringe.com. That is one of my many aims this year. Here are the rest:

1) A target.

Arf. JOKE. Albeit a shit one. See what I did? Do ya? Do ya? Aims? Target? Ba dum tish. Sigh.

Seriously, this year I've decided that firstly I'm going to try my best not to give a shit what critics think. I don't want to know when they're in, what they say, who they are, what their favourite biscuit is or anything about them. I'm going for the 'fuck all that I'm going to enjoy the fringe.' I give it three days till I see a two star review that says my show is 'solid yet unspectacular' or just 'balls' and then cry and want to go home. I also want to leave Edinburgh with more sets and less compereing. As much as you lot are lovely, I'm sick of talking people and quite want to talk at people for a while. Sounds horribly arrogant when I type it. That's cos it is. My words are better than yours. Tee hee hee. I jest. 'You jest what?' Well done for proving my point.

I also would bloody love to do this show after Edinburgh whether it be at the Melbourne comedy festival or in the mirror to myself when no one else is around. The latter is far more likely, but hey ho. So we'll see if any of those things happen. What I really don't want is for nothing at all to happen and for my show just to trot along mostly unnoticed. That's the big fear. Essentially I'm up against 2000 odd other shows (they aren't all odd) and there is just as much chance that no one will know my show is on as there is anyone else's. I'm praying this won't be the case but if you see news reports of a small beardy man being arrested for dancing round the Royal Mile naked with nothing but his own posters stapled to his skin while he screams at passers by, you know its not going well.

Aside from my show, there'll be the usual partying, eating at Suzie's Wholefood Diner to gain some vitamins every now and then and getting to the last week and being unable to eat due to poverty but still somehow having enough money for beer. Main differences is that this year, I'm totally going to go running. Oh yes. And not just once, or when I'm late from getting form show to show. No, I aim to actually do a run round the Meadows at least 2-3 times a week. Or at least until I see my two star review and can't get out of bed again due to depression. JOKE. And fear. General fear. This year is also the first year I've been single at the fringe. To some this may seem like 'woah T's gonna be the man about town' but more likely it just means I'll make my bed less and occasionally call up my friends drunk to tell them I love them instead of some poor unsuspecting girlfriend. They won't mind. As long as I don't try any phone sex chat.

But first, before all that, I have to survive this train journey. Already the one inevitable fact about my yearly north travels has occurred and I've boarded a train with at least two people I know which is nice. This year's Edinburgh train crew is the lovely Carrie Marx and the equally as lovely if more hirsute Dave Gibson. I however, am ignoring both of them to be a total twat and listen to a recording of my own voice. It’s not even my show. Just me repeatedly telling me I love me. JOKE. God these jokes are bad. I really hope this isn't another indicator of the month to come. Sigh.


Last thing. If you're heading to the Fringe, here are some shows I would totally recommend you buy tickets for asap:

1) ME.

JOKE. *cries*

Start again with shows I've honestly really enjoyed seeing previews of:

Stuart Goldsmith, Tom Craine, Nat Luurtsema, Greg Davies, Shappi Khorsandi, Richard Herring, Stewart Lee, Bridget Christie, Paul Sinha, Josie Long, Loretta Maine, Carey Marx, Pete Johansson, Carl Donnelly, Jon Richardson, Kevin Eldon, Tara Flynn, Stephen Carlin.

Go see all of them. Now.

The two shows I will aim to see, but probably won't because I never see anything are:

Jeremy Lion and Gutted.

So you should go see all of them too.

Camp Blogstival

I am lying on my bed in a room that looks as though something bad has happened to it. I wouldn't say it looks like its been hit by a bomb as that would be a huge lie. Nothing is burnt to a cinder. There is no blast damage. There is merely the detritus of three days of festival going mixed with the clean detritus of packing for a month of festival going. Today has a game plan. Pack, sort out everything else in my life, work on show, do a show, go to sleep, get a train, Edinburgh. That's the plan. Already this plan has been messed up by me starting today with some toast and then doing this blog before anything else. I stupidly didn't put them on the list otherwise I could have ticked them off already and felt good. To be honest I haven't even made a list which is where this probably all started going wrong. I blame having 9 hours of sleep after a weekend where 8 hours was all I collectively have had since Friday. So enough about my stupid lack of planning and busyness. ARE YOU READY FOR THE OMNIBLOG? It was going to be an UBER BLOG, but Tiffany, of the Stevenson kind, pointed out that as I will be blogging about several days of stuff, it will be like the Eastenders Omnibus and therefore should be an OmniBlog as it encompasses all. There will be pics and words so strap yourselves in. It won't be a bumpy ride, its just that I'm all about the health and safety:


- I think that I like nothing more than randomly being offered free watermelon. FACT.


- When kids do not have computer games to play with, they only cartwheel and blow bubbles. I realised that computer games are necessary to ensure kids do not just cartwheel into the road or blow bubbles into peoples eyes and make them stingy. Well done Nintendo.


- I met an actual Town Crier. He wasn't crying at all. In fact, he was really happy. If I had a beard as big as his and a large hat, I would be happy too. I rename him the Town Smiler.




Quick game - Is this pot bellied pig DEAD or ASLEEP?


- Cecil the Caterpillar is a fat selfish prick. If you are going to eat all the lettuce you should fucking well contribute to the house in some way.

- On Sunday me and Carl Donnelly dealt with the Super Giant Helter Skelter. Proper dealt with it. I then had an ice lolly. Best day ever.

- Despite all the entertainment for kids, the most popular attraction appeared to be a broken table in the middle of the main field. I aim to have a whole festival whereby I smash up some furniture and let kids go nuts on it. Cheap and easy.




Marcus Brigstoke dressed as Spiderman on top of his camper van. Paul Byrne's quote of the moment 'Jesus, someone give that man his kids back.' Brilliant.

- Pop up tent's while popping up in super quick time and giving you instant tentery, seem to completely have forgotten about the cover sheet. So much promise. So little delivery.

- People that wear Birkenstocks will now be known as 'Birks'. I am one of those people. I am proud. Sort of. Its all about the orthopedic sandal wear.

- Bonkers award of the weekend goes to Laura Jane Martin. A slim, white, Liverpudlian girl who sang a folky version of Chakademus and Pliers 'Tease Me' whilst playing the jazz flute, a ukulele and grinding and winding ragga stylee. Seriously fun but hugely unhinged.

- Best Heckle of the weekend comes from the 8 year old girl in the front row of Comedy For Kids on Saturday:

Me: Whats your favourite subject at school?
Devil Child: Maths
Me: Why maths?
Devil Child: Because I can get a proper job when I'm a grown up.
Me: Urgh I hate maths.
Devil Child: That's why you haven't got a proper job.

SLAM. Totally totally SLAMMED.




Andre Vincent as a bear. That is all.


- There are a lot of guinea pigs on the petting farm and they are all nearly called names after chocolate bars. There's Wispa, Crunchie, Aero and many many more. Then there is Eric. He's an albino. I can't help but feel there is some level of discrimination going on there.


- Best musics of the weekend - The Apples (most awesomest drummer award), Hypnotic Brass Ensemble (most awesomest making middle class middle aged mums waves their hands in the air award), Olaf Arnalds (most awesomest chilled set despite flooding noise of Michael Jackson from nearby kids catwalk award), The Correspondants (awesome electro swing DnB chat styles), Whisky River (bluegrass, Rhythm and Blues mayhem) and Mark Lamarr (excellent appreciation of man with a trumpet in the audience award)

- Special music mention must be made to whoever was playing old school junglist massive type music in the Bollywood tent at midnight on Saturday. I have been repeatedly singing 'booyaka booyaka....incredible' ever since, much to the discerning looks of everyone around me.

- The double heist is when you steal something off someone, whilst distracting them by talking to them about someone stealing things off people. On Saturday, the triple and quadruple heist was invented. The world is no longer a safe place to live.



- The Minchin's back as he rocked it in the big tent on Friday. Quick Minchin Fact: Despite his height, he's surprisingly good at bouncing on a space hopper. Quick Minchin Fact he doesn't know: I ate all his blue M&M's. He also still owes me a crepe. Offering to pay for one I've already bought just doesn't cut it.




Madness's sign was asking for mischief. The mischief was blamed on Calvin Harris who was then pushed over in a portaloo by the Madness boys as revenge. He was fairly upset. We might know who the actual culprit was......

- Speaking of culprits, the comedy tent manager apologised to Paul B that someone had stolen our rider the night before so they'd hidden it so it wouldn't happen again. This mostly meant we couldn't steal it again on Saturday night. Selfish.

- Reading bedtime stories for kids is quite possibly my favourite thing ever. I might have to borrow some kids so I can do it again. Its fun even when a small child is tugging at your foot, another is hitting you with a balloon and three are insisting they live on the moon. Yes, its that fun.




Me and Matt Kirshen on normal sized chairs.

- Things that made me think I was hallucinating: A small boy sitting in the middle of the crowd for Comedy For Kids who was wearing the most terrifying werewolf mask I've ever seen. I was still a mess from the night before and had to do a double take to check he wasn't a projection of an inner demon. He wasn't. He was just a damaged child.


- Ultra Fudge Brownies fix everything. Except diabetes.

- Scouse to Scouse resuscitation is a joke that just doesn't work ever.

- On the drive to Camp Bestival I nearly ran over a chicken that was trying to cross the road. There was nothing on the other side. I think this answers the age old question. Chickens are just pedestrians like you or me and need no reason for road crossing.

- I tried to persuade Pete Cain I can still breakdance at the side of the Silent Disco stage. I was pretty drunk, I managed some things, but I managed to hurt my back and arms more. I also managed to make Pete laugh and he thinks I should start every gig with that. Gigs will have to start having proper wooden floors for this to happen.



Quick game 2 - DEAD or ASLEEP?


- I actually like Parma Violets. What of it?

- Despite how it sounds, hosting the main stage is a bit pants. Only good bit was welcoming and thanking the Fall and watching Mark E Smith wandering off during his set every two minutes only for the stage manager to gently grab him, turn him around and push him back towards the stage. I didn't get to introduce George Clinton due to time issues. Stupid concept of time.



The Fall

- I didn't get my face painted as Spider-Man. I also did not buy a Panda Hat. Fail on both accounts. Sorry Edinburgh, you shan't be seeing a bear based Spider-Dude anytime this year.

- The Coconut King lives in Camp Bestival. He has a big machette and cuts coconut with such a laissez faire attitude that at any point you think he might lose an arm. I paid £3 for a jelly coconut. The risk of gaining a free finger with it was worth £3.

- Pete Cain is also a coconut king. He uses a mallet and a big knife. He doesn't like coconut. This makes his efforts more dedicated.



Brett Vincent shagging my tent while Matt Kirshen holds it down.

- Pop up tents really really need to pop down as easily. Much kudos to Kirshen and Vincent for attacking it till it died and fitted back into the bag.

- Award for most costume changes goes to Joe who was in more outfits over the weekend than Lady Gaga is in over a week. Most impressive were the Clone Wars Obi Wan outfit and the leotard with feather hat and cape outfit.



- Quick Game 3: Girl on the floor in corner of Whisky River gig. DEAD or ASLEEP?

- I bumped seperately into two people I haven't seen in years and years. Sadly I saw them both as I was leaving and didn't catch up with either.

- A man came up to me to tell me his fave comedians are Bill Hicks and Richard Pryor, but that he really enjoyed comedy for kids. I'm not sure if the next show I should do clean jokes about how drugs are great or just set fire to myself and shoot out someone's tyres.

- Some last few quick notes: Albee Hound wins award for most awesome kid of the festival; Andre Vincent does tricks with hats. They are not hattricks though; people with irritating toot machines should not play them before midday on any camp site ever; same goes for people with loud baby screaming machines; cheesetwists are a surprisingly good late night drunk snack; Almanac; Craig Cambell is a bloody brilliant MC, and comic; big flat boards with pictures where there are holes for people to put their heads through, will never stop being funny; My stupid tan lines from Lounge on the Farm have got ten times worse.


There's probably more but I have to go pack. Hope you enjoyed the OmniBlog. Tomorrow's blog shall be from a train. Excited? No? Oh.