You may be wondering why I’ve called you all here tonight.  To be honest,  it’s just a way of collating information so that I don’t annoy you all by tweeting or facebooking random self promotion.  I know people get annoyed by that.   But if you read this whole blog I’ll put a Calman fact at the end that few people know as a way of saying thanks for reading to the end.  It’s not a very interesting fact but it’s a fact nonetheless.  Deal?  Right.

A lot of people ask me if I’m doing any shows in their town.  The honest answer is, I hope so but maybe not.  Rest assured as soon as I think some people will turn up I’ll tour every part of the UK bringing with me the politically astute and satirical humour I’m known for.  Oh, and cat stories.

In the meantime here’s where you can see me in the next few months.

General comedy fun

I MC a lot at the Stand Comedy Clubs in Glasgow, Edinburgh and Newcastle.  If you check their listings I pop up once a month or so.

I also gig around the country – I tend to tweet about gigs or put them on my Facebook page http://www.facebook.com/pages/Susan-Calman/44711520390.

13th and 14th May – Brighton

Brighton Fringe

Revenge of the Cat Lady

7.15pm both nights.

http://boxoffice.brightonfringe.org/event.aspx?evId=3303

I’m at the lovely Komedia in the Studio so there aren’t that many tickets.

April – London

Udderbelly at the South Bank

20th April

https://www.underbelly.co.uk/Susan-Calman

July – Birmingham

I’ll be doing a preview on 25 July at the Laughing Cows in Birmingham!

Edinburgh Festival

I’m doing a new show this year and tickets should be on sale soon.

Please come.  I’m quite nice really

Calman fact

Well done. You made it to the end.  Here is your Calman fact.

When I dance I don’t move my feet.  Instead I move my upper body to the rhythm of the music.  I sway much like a person stuck in quicksand.  Some say I look foolish.  I say I look cool.  Ask me to dance when you see me next.

x

I don’t want to clog up your Facebook/twitter feeds with random updates about what I’m doing when there are funny videos of cats to watch, but some people have asked where they can see me perform live.  So here are some dates if you, or anyone you know, fancies coming to see me in the flesh. So to speak.

General comedy fun

I MC a lot at the Stand Comedy Clubs in Glasgow, Edinburgh and Newcastle.  If you check their listings I pop up once a month or so.

I also gig around the country – I tend to tweet about gigs or put them on my Facebook page http://www.facebook.com/pages/Susan-Calman/44711520390.

One woman shows

23rd February – London

Susan Calman: Work in Progress towards ultimately taking over the galaxy

SOLD OUT

29th March – Glasgow

Glasgow Comedy Festival

Susan Calman: Revenge of the Cat Lady

Stand Comedy Club

Tickets from

www.thestand.co.uk or 0131 558 7272

13th and 14th May – Brighton

Brighton Fringe

Revenge of the Cat Lady

7.15pm both nights.  I’ll post links when tickets go on sale.

April – London

Udderbelly at the South Bank

20th April

9.30 pm – will put links up when they become available.

July – Birmingham

I’ll be doing a preview on 25 July at the Laughing Cows in Birmingham!

Edinburgh Festival

And finally I will (fingers crossed) be back at the Edinburgh Festival this year.

Conclusion

It’d be nice to see you at a gig.  Otherwise I may as well just stand at a bus stop shouting.

Susan

xx

Tickets for Glasgow Comedy Festival show on sale now through the Stand website www.thestand.co.uk.  The show, Revenge of the Cat Lady, is on the 29th March.

I’ll also be at the Brighton Fringe in May, details when they are available

Hope to see you at a show!

x

Actually. That’s a lie. And as President Nixon always told me when we were sailing in New England, never start a blog with a lie.

To be honest I have been known to make a fuss about SOME things, about CERTAIN things, about IMPORTANT things that make me nervous.  Let me explain.  If you’ve ever watched the classic TV series “Lost in Space” or the 1998 remake starring Matt Le Blanc (less successful but still a good sci fi romp) you’ll know that there was a robot in it.  To be specific, according to Wikipedia, it is a Class M-3 Model B9, General Utility Non-Theorizing Environmental Control Robot.  Mind you, Wikipedia also insists that the Lib Dems are still a political party of note so what do they know.  Anyway whenever there’s a sniff of trouble the Robot shouts, if a Robot can shout, “Danger Will Robinson”.  If you don’t know, Will Robinson was one the of the characters on the show.  I know I’m over explaining what is, in essence, simply the set up to a blog but I don’t want anyone to get annoyed with my lack of detail.  My point is this, sometimes things happen which make my spidey sense tingle, which makes a voice in my head say “Danger, Susan Calman”.  When that happens I like to make a fuss.

On this occasion it’s the monumental fuss about gay marriage in Scotland.  Now you might not know what’s been happening if you live in Englandshire or beyond, so a summary of the recent high profile coverage in the press is  “straight marriage good, gay marriage bad”.

That is of course a flippant remark considering the vitriolic and horrific things said about people like myself (no not short people!) by certain sections of society, and I could get angry about it all. But I won’t.  So instead I’ve done what any self respecting lesbian would do, and I’ve written a fairytale about it all.

It’s based on the untold story of Snow White and Cinderella and it’s all entirely fictional apart from the people who I’ve called by their real names.  Oh and Snow White is based a little bit on me.   You’ll be able to tell that quite quickly.

The tale of Snow White and Cinderella

Once upon a time in a magical kingdom called “Scotia” (which comprised mostly of haggis, whisky and religious intolerance) there lived two young women, Snow White and Cinderella.  Everyone said that Snow White looked just like Angelina Jolie.  The two princesses met over the interweb, because it was difficult to meet likeminded people in the gay tavernas which popped up in the magic kingdom.  They lived together in a beautiful cottage surrounded by bluebells and singing penguins and loved each other more than anything. Every day they listened to K.D Lang and dressed up their 97 cats.

Neither were particularly butch but both loved sensible shoes and Sophie Grabol. One of them had a tool belt but that was just because the cottage required extensive renovation.  They both had jobs, paid taxes and contributed to society in positive ways.  They’d even agreed not to have children thus reducing the deficit and sparing society from more young people who can’t pronounce things properly.  Life was good.

But things weren’t always so sunny in the land of Scotia.  The beautiful Snow White and Cinderella had both grown up in a time of darkness in the kingdom.  A time when the Wicked Witch Thatcher ruled over all, casting a spell with her magic handbag which pricked the thumbs of gay people, silencing them for over 12 years.  And silent they were.  For 12 long years years young gays were told that it wasn’t normal to love someone.  There was no joy in the kingdom and as the gays were silent, so were other minorities. Even the elves (the campest of all the fairytale creatures) lost their sparkle.  Some in Scotia said that it didn’t matter and it was all to protect the “normal” people in the fairytale kingdom. But the people that said that hadn’t seen the Minotaurs crying at night.  Watched the despair of the goblins who thought they might lose their jobs in the mines if anyone found out that they were gay, and known how many pixies ended their lives early rather than live a lie.

Only many years later, after the Wicked Witch Thatcher’s exile to the land of after dinner speaking was the spell finally lifted.  And the gays and all right minded people rejoiced.  Not that everyone wanted it the spell lifted.  There was a coven of dark wizards who tried to keep the dark magic in place.  One wizard in particular cast a shadow on the horizon.  A dark wizard called Souter, who lived in a magic bus over the Mountain of Deregulation, and battled against the forces of good.  After his counter spell failed everyone thought he had disappeared forever, but all he’d done was hide in a mountain cavern planning his next move.

Snow White and Cinderella had a relationship that was exactly like those of her straight friends.  Just because they were both women didn’t mean that they didn’t make each other miserable at times!  But they wanted to make their love official, and make the same commitment to each other that their friends and family had to their partners.  Suddenly from on high, King Blair stated that all gays could enter a civil partnership!  A civil partnership?  What was that?  Well it turned out it was like getting married but not.  Like being an equal citizen of the country but actually being judged for something that they couldn’t help.

Even though everyone knew it wasn’t the same as getting married they were told that they should be damn happy with that thanks very much.  In fact if they would just stop complaining then the fairytale kingdom could just get back to normal.  The dark Wizards sat in Daily Mail Castle and considered themselves pleased that they didn’t need to deal with the annoyance of equal rights and could instead get back to blaming immigrants for bird flu.

But Snow White and Cinderella were still confused.  Why couldn’t they get married?  They knew plenty of total wankers who had got married.  They heard gossip that it was because of a fictional character called “God” who people seemed to believe had a say in their personal lives.  That their lives weren’t “normal” according to “god”.  That a family could only be a man and a woman who wanted to have children.  But wasn’t that insulting to all of the single mothers, and grandparents who brought up children? What about straight couples who married and didn’t have children?  And what about all of the married couples who were horrific to each other and their children, and everyone else?  Were they really normal?

As they lived in Scotia, which proclaimed itself the best of all the fairytale lands, they hoped that the Scottish Government would do something about it. And in time their jolly  Prince Charming Wee Eck Salmond said that they would definitely think about maybe doing something about it.  Oddly unlike other times when they dealt with matters of equality, for example when the Rumplestiltskin demanded the same wages as his female colleagues, the Government decided to ask the people of Scotia what they thought of Snow White and Cinderella getting married instead of just passing a law to ensure equality.

All at once the dark forces of the land joined together.  The dark wizard Souter, who coincidentally gave large piles of gold coins to  Mr Salmonds party, and the men of “god” from the church said that if gay marriage was allowed the world would end.  For as soon as a gay walked into a church and said “I do”,  the fairytale kingdom of Scotia would fall into the sea.

The dark forces mounted a campaign.  They compared gays to peadophiles, they said that Snow White and Cinderella were a shame upon the kingdom. The villagers who until that point hadn’t cared about the ladies alternative lifestyle choice began to believe what the church leaders told them.  They lit pitchforks and surrounded the fairytale cottage shouting and spitting.  Meanwhile the church leaders stood and laughed and counted their money.  And the Government said absolutely nothing.

Snow White and Cinderella almost gave up.  They almost stopped trying.  They had fought for so many years to just be seen as people in the fairytale kingdom that they were exhausted.  They wanted to shut the door and put on their box set of “Between the Lines” and forget all about fighting. And then there was a knock at the door.  When they opened it they were surprised to see a crowd of people outside.  The dwarves, and the giants, and the minotaurs and the trolls, and the gingerbread men and the giant talking fish.  Every single person from the fairytale land who had ever suffered because they were different were there. They realised that if the gays could be treated in this way they might be next.

So Snow White and Cinderella had the courage to speak up.  To say that they weren’t a shame on their country.  That all they wanted was the same as everyone else.  To have the choice to marry the person that they loved.  They hoped against hope that soon their dream would come true, that they could finally feel a true part of the kingdom of Scotia.

And then they split up because Cinderella slept with the Little Mermaid.

THE END

I don’t know if the Parliament will pass a law allowing gay marriage in Scotland but I do know this.  Growing up as a lesbian in Glasgow was as easy as being a vegan abattoir worker.  I came out in 1990.  I had hoped 21 years later things would have got better.  That people would not be permitted to tell the lies about homosexuality that they still are today.

I can only hope that equality is achieved because if Scotland aren’t willing to accept the concept that homosexuality is acceptable I shudder to think how we will deal with our other issues.

For Scotland (and the whole of the UK)  to be great country, it’s citizens should all be treated equally.

All I want for christmas are the same rights that you have.

xx

News coming soon of shows in the Glasgow Comedy Festival and the Brighton Fringe.

In the meantime follow me on Twitter for gigs and occasional rants

xx

The women in comedy argument has recently reared it’s permed head again with regard to the diversity, or otherwise, on television with Mock the Week being singled out for criticism. To be honest the most annoying thing about the debate this time is that absolutely no one has asked my opinion on it.  Seriously.  I live for these arguments.  I do nothing all day apart from watch hospital based soap operas, or documentaries about the police or customs officials in New Zealand.  If people don’t ask me about women in comedy where else am I going to get my fix of martyrdom? I mean I’m not religious, I’m fine about my alternative lifestyle choices.  If this carries on I’m going to have to become another minority to get attention.  And there aren’t a lot left open to me.

Anyway.  Now we’ve established that no one has asked me my opinion I’ll do what I always do.  Bloody tell you what I think anyway.  And by the way this is absolutely my final word on this matter.  I do not want to speak to the Guardian, or the Telegraph about this.  The Daily Mail yes.  I have lots to say to them.  Mostly involving the word “twats”.  But this is it.  After this I will say nothing else.  Well unless I’m provoked.  And to be fair it’s pretty easy to provoke me.  Just dangle my 10 years of bootleg Casualty recordings over a cliff and I’ll climb over your corpse to save them.

So what are the issues?

1. There aren’t enough women on panel shows like Mock the Week. The panel isn’t representative of society given that 100% of the population aren’t white middle class men.

This is true.  Society is not entirely made up of men.  I’ve personally seen a lot of women on the street.  And a lot of people who aren’t white.  However to suggest that one programme is guilty of a lack of representation is to ignore a wider issue.  For example in Universities today far more women study law than men, yet at the top of the tree there are more men than women.  If you consider the UK Supreme Court as the equivalent of Mock the Week, and they often do (little bit of satire for you) only one of the 9 judges is a woman.  I don’t doubt that there are other women who would be cracking judges but for whatever reason they haven’t been appointed.  The institutional sexism I encountered as a lawyer is far worse than anything I’ve encountered in comedy, partly because I was restricted in what I could say about it.  To suggest that comedy is in some way different to what happens all over the world every day in every workplace is to suggest that comedy is in some way special. The truth is that under the clown costume it’s a job like any other.

I’m not saying it’s right and I’ll never stop trying to change it.  But to quote Tina Fey (I do that a lot by the way)

“So, my unsolicited advice to women in the workplace is this. When faced with sexism, or ageism, or lookism, or even really aggressive Buddhism, ask yourself the following question: “Is this person in between me and what I want to do?” If the answer is no, ignore it and move on. Your energy is better used doing your work and outpacing people that way. Then, when you’re in charge, don’t hire the people who were jerky to you.”

― Tina Fey, Bossypants

2. Women don’t do well on it, that’s why there aren’t more of them.  They can’t cope with the testosterone fueled environment.

This is my favourite argument which I think is dealt with easily.  Any female comic who does the circuit, specifically christmas gigs, can deal with any amount of testosterone.  Whether they want to or not, that’s another matter.  Too much testosterone is not a reason for not being funny.  Not having jokes.  That’s why people aren’t funny.

3. MTW has a responsibility to have a more diverse panel.

The first thing they have to do is make a funny show with funny people on it.  A diverse panel does not, in itself, humour make – just look at Question Time.  Yes MTW doesn’t reflect the comedy circuit but I don’t know if any comedy programme does.  The sit coms and sketch shows on TV aren’t exactly awash with the correct quota of minorities, or even majorities.  The fact that Mock the Week is seen as such a badge of honour is why it gets it in the neck.  At the moment Rab C Nesbitt is the only high profile scottish comedy on Network TV.  In fact it’s about the only Scottish Comedy that’s been on the network for years.  Personally speaking I get more annoyed that I can’t see a Glasgow “Royle Family” on my TV than the weeks when there are no women on a panel show.  If there have to be women on panel show does my tellybox have a responsibility to show an appropriate quota of Welsh, Irish and Scottish?  Or when I switch on a comedy show should I simply laugh?  The answer is yes.   To everything.

(Edit – I know Tank Commander and Burnistoun have had national showings but as they were not originally Network and not Primetime I think my point still stands.)

4.  It’s because women aren’t funny.

Bollocks and up your arse.  Some people don’t like some women in comedy.  Therefore they don’t like all women. But I can do no more than quote the God of comedy that is Tina Fey when writing about the constant articles written about whether women are funny.

“It is an impressively arrogant move to conclude that just because you don’t like something, it is empirically not good. I don’t like Chinese food, but I don’t write articles trying to prove it doesn’t exist.”

― Tina Fey, Bossypants

Personally if someone asks me about it I send them away and tell them to watch Green Wing then come back and apologise.

People say women can’t be lawyers, doctors, policepeople, assistant referees. People will always say we can’t do things.  It just means when we prove people wrong it’s even more satisfying.  If you accept the word can’t then your as bad as the cunts that say it.

5.  Women aren’t funny on Panel shows

News Quiz.  End of argument.

6. Panel shows are everything

It may seem like that but people do watch other things.  The radio is a wonderful way of getting your comedy out there as well.  I find Radio 4 fabulous for supporting new comedy and new writers.  Maybe think about switching off the TV and listening to the wireless for a bit.  It’s pretty amazing.

7. It’s all good

It is you know!  Everyone is absolutely fine.  The more people talk about MTW the more people want to get on it.  I’d like to do it as I would like to do many things.  To get on something like Have I got News for You would be a dream come true. It’ll happen one day, and when it does I’ll hopefully have got there on merit rather than because of the incriminating photos I’ve obtained or because I’m a token women.  I don’t like that phrase partly because it sounds like I’ve been won in a fun fair.

Of course all of this would be solved if the BBC or Channel 4 commissioned a panel show hosted by a woman.  Perhaps a scottish one.  Perhaps with the word “Calman” in the title.

Just an idea.

No one ask me about this again.

Please do. I have no friends.

October 4th Wicked Wenches at the Stand Edinburgh with the lovely Janey Godley

October 5th Wicked Wenches at Stand Glasgow still with the lovely Janey Godley

Details at www.thestand.co.uk

1st December I’m doing a great gig with Zoe Lyons for the Laughing Cows in London.  Should be a cracker. http://www.ents24.com/web/event/Laughing-Cows-Comedy-Night-The-Coach-And-Horses-London-2620623.html

Follow me on twitter for more gig news www.twitter.com/susancalman

I should say I don’t blog often.  Sorry, I should correct myself.  I don’t publish blogs often.  I write a lot of blogs but often delete them for fear that I may offend.  What could I possibly write that would offend someone you don’t ask?  Well the blogs entitled “ten people I hate” or “reasons why religion is a pile of rubbish” or “twelve steps to your inner Martina” may upset people.  And, as I’ve found to my cost, people lose all sense of proportion on the internet.  On twitter I could write “I’ve just had a cup of tea” and someone will respond with an insult.

I was asked the other day why I bother with twitter and the like and the answer is quite simple.  I spend all day, every day, on my own.  I sit in front of my computer and try and write funny things.  I don’t find that difficult.  I find a lot of things funny.  The question is will anyone else get them?  Does anyone remember a 1987 american TV show called “Leg Work” starring Margaret Colin and Frances McDormand?  No?  Damn.  It was a great show.  But there appear to be only a few people I can say “honk if you’re the mystery woman” and they won’t think I’m mad.

I also get distracted easily.  Yesterday I had hiccups.  I then spent an hour worrying that I would never get rid of my hiccups and would end up in the Guinness Book of Records because I hiccuped for 20 years.  Is that a reason to stop working?  Yes, yes it is.  That’s a genuine concern.  How could I function if I didn’t stop hiccuping?  Same with sneezing.  Sometimes I’ll sneeze 5 or 6 times in a row.  What if I never stop?  I know that it’s an overreaction and it’s probably just a cat hair up my nose but still.  I have to stop getting distracted by irrelevant things.  Or are they irrelevant?  Are they instead important thoughts and theories that Plato himself would have ruminated over.

You see I find people are fascinating.  Each one of us has what’s called a brain.  Of course everyone’s brains have a different capacity, what’s called “The Only Way is Essex” scale, but we are all blessed with what is essentially a supercomputer in their heads.

But people use them very differently.  Some attempt to facilitate world peace.  Some try and find a cure for cancer.  And some do this.

http://home.vicnet.net.au/~kwgow/crossovers.html

Now the nitty gritty of what this is about is almost irrelevant, the wonder is the time and effort that is been put into this project.

This carefully crafted spreadsheet follows the theory that the 1980’s TV show St Elsewhere (think Casualty kids) all took place inside an autistic childs head.  Now I suspect that the writers of the show fell victim to “last day at work” syndrome when they were writing the final episode, got drunk and thought to hell with it let’s just pretend it was all a dream.

But people being people some took the theory very seriously and followed the logic that if St Elsewhere didn’t exist any programme with any connection to St Elsewhere also couldn’t exist.  Despite the fact that, in essence, none of the programmes exist because they are TV PROGRAMMES.

The work that has gone into this is extraordinary.  This person watches every television programme in the world looking for connections that include characters and brands.  For example you’ll see that the Office doesn’t exist.  How you say?  Well

For various complicated reasons Diagnosis murder doesn’t exist.  The plane that crashed and stranded the cast of Lost was Oceanic Airlines Flight 815 also featured on Diagnosis Murder. Charlie off Lost once dated a girl whose father worked for a paper factory in Slough. The paper factory in Slough is the paper factory of The Office (UK). Therefore the Office doesn’t exist.  Clear. Good

Just imagine what the person who created this could have done with his brains.  But I prefer that he spends his days creating a parallel universe filled with fictional characters that don’t exist and have no impact on the world stage.  It’s utterly amazing!  If only I had the time in between looking at videos of cats and stalking people I was at school with to do a similar thing.  But that’s what the internet has done.  And I love it.  But it distracts me!  So back to the point of the blog

Leg work was excellent by the way.  The intro is here on You Tube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mtUicQ8Ow-I.

Now I know it looks dated but at the time it was excellent.  Top drawer entertainment cruelly pulled from the schedules early.  I think I liked it because I saw a lot of the Claire McCarron character in myself.  A woman fighting against the odds whilst driving a Porsche and wearing a blouson leather jacket.  Obviously that’s not what I look like right now but it’s what I look like in my head.  But in my head I’m always at least 6 inches taller than I am.  That often leads to surprise when I wake up in the morning and I’m still short.

Anyway, decisions Calman.  Focus.  What should I do this year?  It may be a strange question to ask in September but, like children, a comics school year starts in September.  Leicester Comedy Festival, Glasgow Comedy Festival and of course the Edinburgh Festival.  Is the world ready for me to do a stand up show about Margaret Colin? Answer, probably not.   Do I have the courage to do a character show without relying on my Meryl Streep impressions? Maybe.  Could I do a character show and a stand up show both about St Elsewhere with my cats as backing dancers.  I’d call them the “Catrobats”.

Decisions, decisions.

Anyway.  I need to go to the bank.  I’ve opened an account in the name of Clare McCarron so I can be a private eye.  I have the blouson leather jacket after all.

Thank you for listening.  You’ve saved me from finding a therapist.

First off, personal reasons mean that I am feeling slightly maudlin today so apologies if this blog greets you with less than a smile.  In addition the rain has led to very cold legs after  I waded through Assembly Gardens to see a show.  Astroturf and rain continues to remind me of years playing hockey in the winter time.  Standing having a cup of tea outside the Spiegeltent I half expected someone to shout “man on” and hit me in the shins.  No one did although there were a group of youths who looked like they wanted to.

Secondly I must mention that I have just watched “The Bachelor” on Channel 5.  It made me angry.  Apparently the girls on the show are on “the quest of a lifetime” to snag Gavin Henson.  Maybe it’s just me but quests used to be for something slightly more important.  And maybe it is also just me but I always hoped a younger generation of women might have more self respect.  I’ll never watch it again.  Apart from every week.

Anyway, another Edinburgh has come and gone.  People tell me I look well and have become more tanned as the festival progresses. Given the way that the weather has been my concern is that my liver is failing, but I’ll enjoy the compliments while they (or I) last.  Not doing a show this year has been interesting, wonderful and depressing at the same time and the experience of being inside and outside the action, slightly schizophrenic. For each high there was a low but at least I am not leaving this festival after attempting to kill myself using the mound of flyers I have left over.  And if anyone’s interested it is quite difficult to turn a mound of flyers into a weapon capable of facilitating suicide.  The best idea I had was to use beer, mush the flyers up and fashion a noose out of papier mache. 2006 was a tough year.

Anyway, lets look at the evidence.

High.  This year’s Macaulay and Co was without a doubt the best that I’ve involved in.  The BBC venue was wonderful, the staff and production team a joy and, of course, Fred Macaulay a pleasure to work with.  Yes I had to get up very early in the morning and as a result didnt tend to go out late but it’s worth it.  In fact I’m surprised how much I haven’t missed the drinking in bars and the gossiping with comics.  As a result I have no knowledge of who has slept with who, punched who, stolen jokes from who, vomited on who, snubbed who, sent a text message about the comic to the comic blah blah blah.

Low.  For the first time ever I’ve read reviews because I know that there was no possibility of stumbling across one of my own show.  I know comics aren’t really meant to say how they feel about the issue of critics but I have never been one to bow to convention. Anyone who has seen the Grolsch bottle tops still attached to my shoes will know that! (Look it up).   This year the personal nature of some of the reviews made me angrier than a wasp made to wear a bee costume.  One in particular of a show I had seen, was vile.  If you don’t like a show fine.  If you don’t find a show funny, fine.  But don’t make utterly personal and unnecessary comments about the comics.  One review I read compared the performers to serial killers. Serial killers!  I know a comic can kill a room but really.  At what point did comics add to the list of things to worry about “being compared to a mass murderer?”  How long will it be before reviews read “Comic A, whose very presence on stage made me want to vomit in my mouth reminded me of Ted Bundy as he was loading unsuspecting victims into the back of his camper Van.  2 stars.”  The comedy fraternity has taken a battering from the media because apparently some of us say things purely for shock value. Well you know what? It works both ways.  Some writers are making irrelevant and offensive statements about comics just so people talk about their reviews.  And the star system is corrupted so much that it is virtually redundant.  Perhaps every year there should be one standard three star show performed by a comic (much like a pacemaker in running).  Every critic should be forced to see it to set the standard.  At least then you might have a chance of believing what they write.

I should point out for balance that I love most critics work and look forward to experiencing them close up next year.  For information I would like to be compared to Madeline Smith. (Look it up). Thanks.

High.  Radio 4.  Just Radio 4. Spending time with the producers and being involved with some cracking shows was great.  If I could, I would live inside my radio.  Thankfully the News Quiz starts again soon so I don’t have too long to wait before more joy.

High.  Alchemy.  A sketch show I did during the festival which was challenging but wonderful.  I got to work with loads of great comics and the most fabulous director, Annie Griffin, I have ever worked with.  Long days and late nights have taken their toll on me but the end product is one which will hopefully live on long past the festival itself.  It was a truly great show we produced and working with lovely people like Ashley Storrie made it all worthwhile.

High.  I love comedy and I love seeing comics who make me jealous.  When I see someone on stage who makes me want to go home and try harder I feel excited about what I’m doing again.  This year Andy Zaltzman, Jen Brister, Bridget Christie, Hannah Gadsby, Richard Herring and the Two Wrongies did that for me.

High.  Time with friends who I see once a year.  My annual Lady Garden hug, my lunch with Millican, Perkins being my personal body guard at an awkward moment in a bar, dancing to the Segue sisters.  August is like the best pyjama party in the world.

Low points?  They are many and varied but mostly involving my own head. Should I come back next year?  What kind of show should I do?  Where should I do it? Could I fashion a pony out of flyers and ride it to the loft bar in triumph?  Should I pay a load of money to have the biggest poster in the world displayed on the side of Edinburgh Castle and then not actually do a show?

Of course I’ll be back.  What else would I do for a month?

Anyway the song Bette Davis eyes is amazing but more importantly has a chorus about having Bette Davis eyes.  Not her eyes specifically but eyes that look like her eyes.  The reason I mention it is a) to weed out readers and b) because this time next week the Edinburgh Festival will have started.  It is during the magical month of August that I will encounter hundreds of fellow comics who will have “Edinburgh Festival Eyes”.

Tenuous link?  Moi?

What made up condition am I referring to?  Why did I think that Cybill Shepherd was my real mother for so long? Why do I ask so many rhetorical questions?  Well the Edinburgh Festival has a strange effect on comics and I am usually in the thick of it myself so can’t throw stones at someone else’s glass house of mirth.  This year however, I am not performing a solo show, which in comedy terms means that for the first time in 5 years I will be “disease free”.

You see as the festival progresses comics lose the generic excited look they have when they arrive and develop one of a number of easily identifiable stares.  Stares that, to an expert eye, will reveal exactly what kind of festival someone is having.  And as I am always willing to break the fourth wall, what follows in this blog is a run down of what you will see if you look really closely into the eyes of performers during August.  Don’t look for too long though or they will capture your soul. Like in Ghostbusters.

“Don’t look at me I’m disgusting!”.

This look is seen in the eyes of those whose worst fears have come true.  They have a terrible show but worse than that they have a terrible show that a lot of people are coming to.  And worse than that they continually encounter the audience of their shows wherever they go, leading to patronising head tilts from strangers.  It makes you want to hide in your expensive flat/cupboard for a month but you can’t.  You have 23 performances to go. This state of mind often leads to a show performed on the first night of the fringe bearing no resemblance to the show performed at the end.  If embraced this can be a positive thing.  If not it can lead to 55 minutes of anger.

Catchphrase – “Audiences this year are just so much tougher than last year. ”

“Don’t look at me, I don’t exist”.

The show that never was.  I did one of these.  No one came, no one cared, it may as well not have happened.  Sadly there are times at which these non existent shows are amazing.  A couple of years ago at the festival I was on the verge of a mental breakdown and I saw one of these shows.  I was one of 6 in the audience and I can honestly say it was one the best shows I have ever seen.  Try and find these gems, you won’t regret it.

Catchphrase  – “The time/venue/title of my show just wasn’t right this year.”

“Look at me!  Look at me!  Look at me!”.

Sometimes the worst type of comic.  They are getting good reviews, a good buzz and the people from the awards haven’t walked out of their show after 5 minutes.  All they want is to talk about their show or whether you know how well their show is going.  Conversations often go like this.

Me  – Did you see about that terrible thing in the news.

Them -  I did.  I remember when it happened because my show was sold out that night.  Again!  The Scotsman and the List were in but luckily I stormed it.

Me – Right.  I really felt for the people involved.

Them  -  Totally.  You need empathy.  The Telegraph said that about me.  I was the kind of comic who connects.

Me -  Right.  Have you seen any other shows?

Them -  No.  But Alan Carr/Jo Brand/Vic Reeves tried to get into my show but it was sold out.

Me – What’s that white power all over your face?

Comic has by that point spotted someone more important and left without saying goodbye.

Catchphrase “When do the nominations come out?”

“Please talk to me.  I hate myself”

The year of the bad show, bad reviews, bad audience numbers.  Comics who need to talk about themselves.  It is important to talk to these people because if you don’t they might kill themselves.  No exaggeration.  I love these people and have hug them as hard as I can.

Catchphrase “I think they were just a listening audience”

“Hey!”

The rarest of breeds.  The normal, balanced, happy comic.  Doing a show because they like comedy and just having a nice time.  Such comics are a blessing on all our houses.

Catchphrase “Let’s not talk about comedy.”

“Did you hear what happened to [   ]?”.

The dark cloud of bitterness.  The comic who delights in the pain of others and is only too happy to tell you how badly someone else is doing.  Alternatively they are also happy to explain away the success of others as solely due to them having a particular agent/PR/father/mother.  Insidious and to be avoided when drunk.

Catchphrase “Cunt”

I’ve made a bingo card for all of these types and when I collect them all I am allowed a crepe from the stall outside the Gilded Balloon.  I reckon I’ll have them all by 9pm Thursday.  I move through at 8.30pm.

In all seriousness though good luck to all performing this year.  If you are attending as an audience member then remember you’re a Womble.  In addition remember you can make a show better.  If it’s a comedy, laugh!  It’s contemporary dance, laugh!  If it’s Opera, laugh!

I’ll see you all on the other side.

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