You can now hear what Ray Bradshaw (@comedyray), Richard Hunter, Gordon Alexander (@goalexander), and myself were getting up to on Thursday night in Leith. I realise I’m not really selling that…

Anyway, the first episode of the Scottish Comedy FC podcast is up now.

You can subscribe via iTunes here

or listen via the player here

For anyone with a fear of parochial Scottish football chat, we actually manage to mention Bosnia, the Cup of African Nations, and a surprising amount of detail about English railway lines! Remember – Scottish Comedians, World Game.

I was at Ibrox today watching the Rangers v Aberdeen game. The final score was disappointing…as was the first 60mins, bar the performances of Sone Aluko & Maurice Edu. At least the last half hour after Aberdeen’s goal comprised mainly of Rangers shots & corners. Two points dropped…but you never know what can happen between now and the end of the season.

Having got back to the flat I remembered that I meant to nip out to Currys to buy new ink cartridges for my printer. Unfortunately it shut at 6pm…just as I got to the door. Am I changing the ink cartridges because the ones in my printer have run out? No, it’s because my printer went on the blink ages ago after the last time I changed them (it’s printing out blank pages) and my technologically illiterate mind can come up with nothing else to do other than to buy new cartridges, change them and hope it magically works. Written down, that sounds even more stupid. Especially when cartridges seem to cost more than printers these days.

The missus is sick of me using her printer to print things out (whatever happened to sharing?) and I’ve been monitoring the tone of her growls, waiting for the crucial point at which I had to actually address the non-working nature of my printer. I got about 5 months out of her printer before the growl-pitch became critical, that’s not bad. I shall faff about with my one tomorrow and see what gives.

The missus isn’t about as I’m typing this so I can’t give you a running commentary on her irritation at my various forms of internet noodling. I can tell you that her and the cat are united in their annoyance at being ignored while I edit articles, write blogs, upload podcasts etc. The cat has just expressed her own frustrations at this point by making a bid to chew through a 2nd set of my earphones. I’d probably better go and check how successful she’s been. She’s either a luddite, or simply wants to deny me earphones so that I have to play out podcasts through speakers and she too can listen to Kermode & Mayo’s Radio 5 movie musings.

Right, this has been a short blog but I have to play with the cat and make some tea before the missus gets home from her shift. I know. I’m still finding it difficult to describe how it is that I’m busy these days, all I know is that I am.

I reckon that what happens when you die is that God goes through your timesheet with you and compares how much of your life was wasted on internet pornography in comparison to time spent engaging with loved ones and throwing balls for your cat to chase but not retrieve.

I’d better go.

Have a listen to the podcast and pass it on to any peeps you think may like it.

Cheers,
Teddy

What else have I done today? I wrote my article for Scottish Comedy FC, which took me longer than I’d anticipated, I’ve done a bit more writing for other unpaid speculative projects, changed the litter in the cat’s tray, posted a parcel for the missus, and I went to the gym.

The gym was good, aside from the paranoia that the modern age has instilled into men on their own in a changing room except for a young boy. Especially when he was making the noises of exertion / self-commentary that kids do when doing anything. Putting on his shoes met with a growl of effort and his mum was outside shouting “what are you doing?”. I then heard him shout “don’t come in” to her and given that I was in my sweat-soaked boxer shorts I was tempted to add “Yeah, don’t come in!” to let her know that there was someone else in there. Then I considered the effect of some guy shouting “don’t come in!” in that situation, made myself even more paranoid, got into my jeans as quickly as I could and scuttled out.

What a world this is.

Anyway, it’s Friday night, I have booze…and the missus has been subjected to my walk down 80s memory lane. She’s had the magic of Rick Astley (Take Me To Your Heart), The London Boys (Requiem), a Stock Aitken & Waterman megamix, and Brother Beyond (He Ain’t No Competition). Granted, the last one of that list was only to make the point that Rick Astley was a comparatively butch 80s pop star.

I love Astley. Saw him live at Cottier’s Theatre in Glasgow about 7 years ago when he was singing Easy Listening numbers with a Big Band. Great!

Anyway.

As I type this I’ve put on a song mentioned on ScottishComedyFC.com. It was recommended by Gary Black (http://www.trampledbat.com/) for the regular “Jukebox Durie” football song feature that Andy Todd does for the site. It’s frankly fantastic. You can play it here:

http://2manykids.com/fitba/The%20Supernaturals%20-%20High%20Tension%20At%20Boghead.mp3

How good is that?

Right. I’m going back to my Kozel.

Anything else to report?

Well, if anybody thought, “Teddy, that fuss over the reviews…comedians are always moaning, aren’t they?”, then check out this. Particularly the comments section:

http://www.scotsman.com/edinburgh-evening-news/the-guide/theatre/review_a_funny_thing_happened_on_the_way_to_the_forum_church_hill_theatre_1_1960504

I must commend Mr A. Borthwick on what I believe da kids are calling “a slam”.

Teddy x

The missus has just enquired as to what I’m doing and I’ve told her that I’m writing my blog.

“What are you writing about?”

“Dunno yet, I’m writing it.”

“Is it just ramblings and rumblings? People will get sick of it.”

“No. People will be fascinated by my descent…”.

After saying “descent” I considered that maybe I meant to say “decline”. I like “descent” though. Like I’m going potholing within my own w*nkishness.

It would almost be worth becoming famous simply to allow me to release an autobiography and call it “Potholing Within My Own W*nkishness”.

I’ve been disturbed from this psychologically self-involved reverie by the missus reading over my shoulder and complaining that I’m “just f*cking moaning” about her. She’s now suggested that I do something constructive like “Come up with an alternative to Capitalism”.

I’ve just considered doing so and rescuing the global economy simply to spite her. After giving it some thought, I’ve decided that it would be pretty unbecoming behaviour to develop a sustainable and equitable financial model to safeguard the future of mankind for no reason other than to stick two fingers up to my fiancee. Hence, for reasons of dignity, I shall be leaving you all to starve as I go back to writing up today’s events.

Why did I have fun today? I was back through in Edinburgh for the recording of the first Scottish Comedy FC podcast at the Canongate Studios in Leith. Al Lorraine & Richard Melvin were good enough to be on hand (Al in particular having to do a lot of rearranging of wires and mics to get things set up) to record our virgin emission. (That’s not a good phrase is it?) Myself, Ray Bradshaw, Richard Hunter, and Gordon Alexander had fun babbling away about football. I’m looking forward to hearing it (hopefully hearing it back doesn’t shatter the magic!) and I’ll keep you posted on when it goes up. I don’t want to spoil any highlights, but all I’ll say as a teaser is this: Gordon Alexander. Trains.

If you’d like to sponsor the SCFC podcast…then get in touch. To have a podcast produced slickly does cost money (I loved the Collings & Herrin podcasts but it would be weird if, say, ‘Football Weekly’ from The Guardian sounded like it) so we will need to find a sponsor to keep up the quality. Do you want to be in at the start of Scottish Comedy FC? Of course you do.

I had a good night in Edinburgh last night too, watching “The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly of Comedy”, though I still wasn’t fully over my little mood blip. It was good to see a new format in it’s early stages and I’m looking forward to doing the show on Feb 8th.

Anyway, I’d better go to bed.

Much as I’ve enjoyed today though, there has been a downside. I’ve been too busy to tweet Gary Glitter…

Hope you’re all well.

Teddy x

I’ve also been knocking up a show plan for the recording of a trial Scottish Comedy FC podcast in Edinburgh tomorrow evening. I’ll be joined by Ray Bradshaw, Gordon Alexander, and Richard Hunter – all regular contributors to the site. For this teaser-cum-taster pod (yes, that was partly an excuse to use the term cum-taster) we’re grateful for the assistance of Richard Melvin et al (actually, given that one of the other guys involved is called Al, that works better than I’d intended it to) at Dabster Productions. Richard is the genius (I realise that would usually have the word “maverick” or “evil” ahead of it, but he’s pretty sensible and not particularly malevolent) behind the Live @ The Stand podcasts and Radio Scotland show. Hence, look forward to our drivel at least sounding beautifully clear.

I was at the gym today for the third day in a row, as I continue the post-Christmas fightback against the united growth of waistline and black cloud of doom. I did two miles on the treadmill, and felt reassured by my ability to keep pace with the guy jogging next to me. Granted, he was already there when I got on it, and remained after I gave up…but you have to take these small moments of satisfaction where you can get them.

As for yesterday’s blog, I don’t want to say much more on it as I imagine that the tactic is to ignore my complaints so that my only option is to repeat them…and with each complaint damage the perception of my own credibility. Like a call centre just saying “What?” to everything you say, until you either shout (at which point they can hang up) or just give up yourself and hang-up the phone.

At the point where somebody won’t listen to a valid complaint from you, you have to have somebody else take it on who they’re unable to ignore.

We shall see what happens in that regard.

I’m struggling to come up with anything interesting to write today, but I’m fearful of breaking the chain of blogs. Also, I’m a comedian and comedy writer. It shouldn’t be beyond me to either invent something interesting or to add an interesting twist to an existing situation.

Hang on, let me go and have a look at the news.

OK, I’m back.

“UK torture inquiry is cancelled” – That’s a shame. When will BBC3 start listening to what people want? It sounds like a show I’d have watched.

“Russia warns against Iran strike” – quite right. Lazy gits. If they’re going to go on strike then just bring in casual staff to be Iranian instead. For £6 an hour I’m prepared to be a member of one of the world’s most ancient civilizations, live on chargrilled meats and freshly baked flatbreads, and attend the Persepolis v Esteghlal derby match.

“Should ‘rottweiler’ security lights be banned?” – It depends if they’re out at night or not. Maybe just put reflective collars on them so they don’t get hit by cars? Then again, shouldn’t they really be accompanied by humans?

There we go. Hilarious.

(Not actually hilarious.)

(Perhaps hilarious because they weren’t intended to be hilarious)

(Perhaps not hilarious because the intention to make them hilarious through non-hilarity was too obvious)

(Perhaps…you can overthink comedy.)

(Perhaps…given recent events…you can underthink comedy.)

(Almost certainly too many brackets.)

Teddy xxx

“It’s with trepidation about being seen as the classic whinging comedian that I contact you to complain about a number of recent comedy reviews by Barry Gordon. While I escaped relatively unscathed from Mr Gordon’s recent review of the Electric Tales night at The Stand, there have been too many mistakes made and too much abuse heaped onto comedians…and even onto one venue and it’s audience.

The Electric Tales review, for example, at no point gives readers the most basic information possible – that it’s a storytelling night. It goes on to have Mr Gordon offer his “tip” to Allan Miller (Edinburgh Evening News *****) on how he can become a “half-decent” performer. Either an attempt at patronising her or simply an inability to correctly remember what she actually said on the night means host Sian Bevan is described as “the self-confessed ‘bonny but glaikit’ Sian Bevan”. My sanity rather than my comedy was then reviewed, though I’m glad Mr Gordon was able to find me “sane” and “well rounded”. That will hopefully mean that this complaint is taken on board.

A November review for a Thursday night at The Stand described one comedian as a “Gangly idiot”, while the host was told that he wouldn’t survive gigging in a “Soho comedy club”. This comment being a review of a hypothetical gig which exists nowhere other than in Mr Gordon’s head, and in which Soho appears to have been anointed as the centre-point of the UK comedy circuit. An annoyingly London-centric remark to read in the Edinburgh Evening News.

Then we come to Mr Gordon’s recent review of a night at Highlight Comedy Club. Or should I say reviews. I realise that the EEN can only be held responsible for the comments in their own pages (the ** review) rather than the review of the same night that Mr Gordon wrote for another paper (***) though. Let me take the EEN review at this point. Susan Morrison, one of your own columnists, is subject to what reads as an attack smacking of ageism and sexism in which we are told that a “52 year-old” (I can see no relevance to the inclusion of that beyond ageism) disgusts Mr Gordon by talking about sex. Later, the younger and male Craig Hill is praised for his references to sex. I’m sure you can appreciate how this inconsistency comes across.

Reviewers are, of course, there to give their opinion, but where the paper pays for and publishes that opinion they have a responsibility to ensure there’s a reasonable chance of it being an informed and fair one. A review surely also has to have resonance with the readers, yet Mr Gordon’s opinion of News readers seems pretty low. His Daily Record review writes off the Highlight audience as “mainly drunk, middle-class types” who find the words “f*** and c*** hysterical” and double over with laughter at “racist/xenophobic jokes”. The contempt here is not just for the comedians but also for the audience. I’m sure any “middle-class types” who read the EEN and attend Highlight will be interested by Mr Gordon’s description of them.

Also, can the editorial team explain how someone deemed worthy to review comedy for the Evening News failed to be aware that the Danny Angelo referred to in the review is a character act (portrayed by well-known Scottish comedian Jim Muir aka Reverend Obadiah Steppenwolfe III)? The fact that the “hopelessly out of tune guitar” is intentional renders Mr Gordon’s outrage at it somewhat redundant, and makes his comment that Danny Angelo should maybe “have stuck in at school” more laughable than Mr Gordon found the night to be.

Comedy reviewers form an important part of a healthy comedy scene and a well-informed and well-written review (positive or negative) can be useful for performers and audiences alike. In the early stages of my own career, I benefitted greatly from the well-informed encouragement or constructive criticism of the EEN’s comedy reviewers. The reviews I’ve mentioned in this letter, however, are so flawed and unpleasant (to your readers as well as to comedians and venues) as to carry no credibility. I would request that the EEN ones mentioned be removed from Scotsman.com.”

Here is what they printed:

Comedy reviews are not so funny
I AM writing to complain about recent comedy reviews by Barry Gordon. There have been too many mistakes and too much abuse heaped on to comedians.
The Electric Tales review (News, January 11) at no point gives the most basic information – that it’s a storytelling night, and host Sian Bevan is described as “the self-confessed ‘bonny but glaikit’ Sian Bevan”.
A review at The Stand (News, November 15) described one comedian as a “gangly idiot”.
Then we come to Mr Gordon’s Highlight Comedy Club review (News, January 9). Susan Morrison is subjected to an attack smacking of ageism and sexism in which we are told a “52-year-old” disgusts Mr Gordon by talking about sex.
Later, Craig Hill is praised for his references to sex. I’m sure you can appreciate how this inconsistency comes across.
Ross ‘Teddy’ Craig

Here’s the response:

• Barry Gordon replies: My job is to point out how a production runs, the strong and weak points, weigh up the overall evening and deliver my opinion. To review everything positively does a disservice to both act and audience. If Mr Craig thinks comedians get bad reviews, try being a painter.

———————————————————————————————————-

“Try being a painter”.

So that’s all that cleared up then.

Teddy

Still, let’s proceed.

For those of you enjoying the edge-of-your-seat ‘will he, won’t he’ suspense of finding out whether I got round to starting my tax return today…yes I just have. I’ve been through my gigs and my writing work for 2010-11 and it makes truly depressing reading. Not that there’s ever a good way for filling in a tax return to go for a self-employed person. It’s either “Sh*t…is that all I earned?” (as in this case) or “Wow! That was a good year. Oh hang, on…so I have to pay how much?!”

It’s also been interesting trying to remember the gigs that I’ve just been counting up. No wonder I wanted to open a vein in September of 2010. I’ve just seen a run of three consecutive nights of doom that I had. Granted, the first of them was the highest paid gig I’ve ever had. There must be an artist inside of me as my face was tripping me all the way to the bank.

18 minutes left before I have to leave the flat.

I haven’t got any shoes on so I need to factor in the time for that too. I could just slip on my trainers, that would be quite quick. It’s a bit cold though so I’d probably rather opt for my boots. They take a bit more time to lace up though, and that process is always complicated by the interest of the cat. Her fascination for laces takes the same form as her fascination for headphones. A fascination that involves teeth and claws.

That sounds quite sinister now. The next time I hear someone say something like “I’ve always had a fascination with Paris”, I’ll wait for them to add a strange and noirish “A fascination that involves teeth and claws”.

15 minutes.

I made it to the gym today, still trying to get back into a routine and fight the post-festive season waist and mood issues. It does seem particularly harsh that dark winter nights, the end of the festive season, a havoc-wreaking storm, and tax returns have all been scheduled for the one month. The storm’s aftermath wasn’t as awkward to deal with as I imagined. I was dreading making the call to the insurers, but going against the stereotype they were very straightforward and helpful. I await the inevitable twist that will come from me having said that…

Annoyingly, I haven’t had any dinner (in fact, I haven’t eaten since 11am) which does show that my time management may need to start extending a bit further than writing my list of things to do for the day and crossing them off in a random manner. Or maybe I’m just on such a path to eccentricity that I need to start writing “eat breakfast”, “eat lunch”, and “eat dinner” down. Granted, if we were to take the average of meals eaten this month, I’m still significantly up on the nutritional requirements of someone of my range of movement.

10 minutes.

Right, I feel like I’m cheating you slightly with the length of this blog, but I’ve just realised that I need to go for a pee and put on my jacket as well as putting on my boots. I’m also trying to allow a few minutes of leeway for ‘unforeseen circumstances’. What if I trip over in the hallway? Less likely since yesterday’s tidying, but the newly tidy nature of the flat may prove enough to disorientate and bring about a fall.

It’s good to be prepared.

Hope you’re all well.

Teddy x

Some of you are now saying “But surely that’s a normal run of the mill thing that you’ll be doing on an almost daily basis?”

Meaning that you sound like the missus. At this point I would caution you to stop trying to sound like my missus, as I can only interpret it as some sordid attempt at tricking me into bed with you. Other traps that I am alert to will be any of you saying things like “Can you close the bathroom window, the flat’s freezing”, “Did you clean the bedroom floor or did you just sweep it?”, and “I’m bored of you. You need to understand that what you’re saying just isn’t funny.” While I’ll applaud you for doing your research, I’m afraid that you’ll just have to find some other poor sucker. Or suckee. Who knows what you had planned. You sicken me.

I’ve also changed the bed and swept the floor in there (Yes, just swept it…no, I didn’t actually wipe it…it’s a bedroom floor though, not a kitchen floor. It’s not getting soup spilt on it. Please don’t try to make any smart comments about that – I’m already angry enough about your sordid attempts at mimicking my fiancee’s words as it is.)

Having dealt with the bedroom and the kitchen (and having hung up the now dry washing, put another load on, and now hung it up to dry), I’m taking a short break to share my day with you. I know, I shouldn’t have. But I’m generous that way. Like the people you don’t even know who phone you up to tell you about the great deals that they have on insurance or on phone deals. If they weren’t being generous – they wouldn’t bother letting you know!

I still have the bathroom, the living room, and the hallway to deal with.

Oh, and my tax return.

Remember when you were at school and you’d find any reason not to start your revision? You had to tidy your room or make some food or go and run some kind of errand? It’s amazing how little changes when you get older. Still, I do think that doing my tax return in a tidy flat may take my mind of some of the grimness of actually doing my tax return. If doing my tax return isn’t enough fun, I also get to contact my insurance company, as yesterday I got a letter from the building’s factors saying that the roof was damaged by the storms, they need £71 straight away…and we’ll have to inform the companies our individual buildings insurance policies are with as it’ll cost about two or three grand to fix the roof more permanently (though split 8 ways).

Not an ideal weekend.

I managed to get some writing done this morning. I wrote a bit more for the ‘The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly” section of “Jo Caulfield’s Comedy Collective” show on Wednesday night, some of which will hopefully make it in. I also edited a couple of articles submitted for SCFC, getting them ready to be posted up tomorrow. One will need a bit more tweaking to take into account today’s matches.

The missus won’t be home until after 10pm, so I’ll have to wait until then to have her translate an email from the company I ordered some English-subtitled Czech & Slovak DVDs (Not those kind of DVDs! I’d hardly bother getting English subtitled versions for that, would I? Far better to make up your own script as you go along.) from translated. The DVDs haven’t turned up yet, so I imagine the email relates to their dispatch. As the email doesn’t contain the Slovakian phrases for -

“You have nice t*ts” (Mas pekne prsia)

“What is truth is not sin” (Co je pravda, nie je hriech)

or

“I’m Scottish, I’m not mentally deficient” (Som skot, nie som debil)

…I’m unable to work out quite what it does say.

I’m also pondering what to have for dinner. There are baking potatoes and cheese in…or I have pierogi in the freezer. I’m actually feeling a bit more in the mood for a chicken kebab though. I have a few hours before anybody will be home to judge me for shoving another takeaway into my face, so I may as well make use of that. I’ll need something to sustain me through the attempts at tidying a living room that now effectively belongs to the cat. I realise that having a baby is a great responsibility – but I don’t think there are many babies able to jump onto the mantlepiece to wreak havoc. If they are, then they’re probably of Kryptonian origin. The tales of Superman’s infant tantrums, and the damage they must have caused, are a disappointing omission from the DC comics canon.

Right. I’ve got things to do.

Don’t pull that “Well so do I face”, you’ve just undermined that argument by reading all the way to the end of this.

1-0.

Teddy x

Eventually, having had to move seats to accomodate a larger group of people wanting to sit down (the correct table-seating etiquette for the single diner has become a real issue for me watching lunchtime matches in the pub), it was full-time and I headed to the bar to pay. I stood at the bar and heard a proper “bar-room philosopher”-style discussion going on. I don’t remember the details or who “won”, but what I recall clearly is the strange moment of hearing one of the guys next to me say:

“No, no, no, that’s the freshwater crocodiles, whereas your saltwater crocodiles…”

It was a beautiful and unexpected moment. Slightly undermined by the conversation switching to Steve Irwin, leading to one of them remembering that he was killed by a Stingray, at which point another shouted out “Stingray! Stingray! Da na na na na na!” – doing the theme tune to the old kids show.

I say it undermined it. It didn’t. I quite like wandering round the flat shouting “Stingray! Stingray! Da na na na na na!” to myself so I shared this man’s enjoyment of the opportunity to shout it. Though I suppose a man’s life probably was too high a price to pay.

I got back to the flat and realised that I’d forgotten to buy cat litter. Cats make excellent pets for older people, due to their ability to stimulate the memory. Through the stench of their litter tray making you remember that you have to go and buy fresh litter. I’m not sure it would work for other things. I think it would need a lot of brain training before you could make more associations than that.

“That litter tray stinks…Oh! I’ve forgotten to pay my credit card bill!”

Actually, that one seems possible. The two experiences are fairly similar.

I’ve only done a very small amount of writing today, and have wasted too much time drafting a letter to the Evening News that their Arts/Ents editor suggested I send. I don’t like getting on my high horse about things, it actually gives me both vertigo and a reminder that I can’t ride a horse. On the other hand, if you believe you’re correct and don’t do anything about it then…it’s probably a recipe for being an angry old man, instead of an angry young-until-relatively-recently man.

It’s quite weird being in the flat with the missus away. It seems oddly quiet, even with the cat running around. She’s not running around at the moment though, instead she’s sleeping on my arm. I’m pretty sure my current typing position wouldn’t meet with ergonomic approval, but health & safety people don’t have to factor cats into office jobs do they? Why don’t offices have cats? Ships used to have cats. Downing Street has a cat. Perhaps the current banking disaster would have been avoided if someone about to tip a subsidiary into receivership had paused to lean down, stroke the office cat, and reconsider?

Or maybe they just wouldn’t have made so many mistakes if they’d had a cat around?

“Hang on, I can smell cat sh*t…that can only mean – remember to pull out of all those plans tying us to toxic US mortgage debts!”

Right, I’d better go and do something constructive.

Hope you’re enjoying your weekend.

Teddy x

Do I have anything to write about today? Yes! In relative terms to the last couple of days.

The missus is off to London this weekend for Uni (she’s doing remote learning but has to go down every so often) so she was up at 5.15am to get the train. That was the plan at least. In fact what happened was that the cat woke up 4.15am and even knocked an hour off that amount of sleep. I dozed until about 6am, but couldn’t properly get back to sleep and ended up writing my SCFC article a bit earlier this morning than I’d planned to.

I was on The Comedy Cafe on BBC Radio Scotland this afternoon talking about Scottish Comedy FC. I enjoyed it and the site seemed to pick up a few more hits as a result, even though I was quite babbly. Also kudos to Janice Forsyth for stepping in to complete my faltering description of why Sasa Papac is my favourite footballer. “So calm and unflappable, like a Bosnian…[brain goes blank]” “like a Bosnian Zen Master?” “Yes!”

That wasn’t a moment I ever expected to be having on the radio, but it’s a description I’m delighted with! I hope the Bosnian Zen Master gets his traditional goal against St Johnstone tomorrow.

You can hear the full episode here: http://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/b0195fgt/The_Comedy_Cafe_13_01_2012/

Never mind me – it’s worth listening to it just to hear Jojo Sutherland & Janice Forsyth doing their best to take turns at controlling Tom Stade! Also, the sudden abrupt ending to the show was actually down to timing issues and not – as I momentarily thought – because I was in trouble for something!

I’m back on Radio Scotland on Tuesday doing a feature on tabloid v broadsheet newspapers with my fellow SCFC writer, John Gavin.

On Wednesday I’m going to be heading through to The Stand in Edinburgh to watch ‘The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly Side of Comedy’, a show brought to you via Jo Caulfield and her Comedy Collective. I’ve done a wee bit of writing for it which will hopefully sneak it’s way in, but I’m sure it’ll be a great night either way. Worth checking out. I’ll also be performing on the Feb 8th show.

Talking of The Stand in Edinburgh brings me to the other thing that’s been going on over the last couple of days. The review from the Electric Tales show that I performed at was brought to my attention. I was stunned and angered by the tone of the piece (and I come out of it ok). Since then, I’ve become aware of another two reviews by the same writer. I’ll post the links to them below and you can come to your own conclusions as to whether my comments below the first two are valid or not, and whether I’m right or wrong to consider these reviews below an acceptable standard of insight and beyond an acceptable boundary of personal insult: (Oh by the way, Electric Tales is a storytelling evening. I mention that as the review doesn’t bother.)

Electric Tales

Highlight Edinburgh weekend show

Stand Edinburgh Thursday Night

I’ve been keen to seek the views of non-comedians on these matters as I know how easy it is for comedians to lose perspective when it comes to reviews, so I’ve spoken to quite a few journalists on the matter. It’d be interesting to have the views of the readers of this blog.

Right, I shall leave you in peace…for a few hours. I’ll soon have tomorrow’s blog to write

Teddy x

Given that the alarm was set for 8am and we both woke up at 9.20am, I’m going to suggest that the mobile phone knowledge of a woman who hates mobile phones and has had hers for about 5 years as part of an ongoing battle against more modern technological development…may not be infallible.

I’m banging out another blog, the fifth in a row, but I will admit that I’m going to struggle to make it interesting for you as yesterday was a frenzy of activity…but mental activity. Hence, it was spent sitting on the couch, typing away on various writing projects. I feel like I have to try to make that seem more exciting than it was, so I’ll present it in the form of a Hollywood blockbuster:

“I was under pressure dammit, real pressure. Not the pressure that comes from others, the pressure that comes from yourself. The pressure of knowing that you’re all washed up and the only time you have left is the time between you realising it and the whole godd*mn world realising. I moved the little lady into the bedroom and commandeered the living room. It felt little like the good old days had returned when I leapt onto the couch, hovering above it momentarily like I was kicking a drug trafficker in a Hong Kong action film.

Gravity brought me back down onto the couch and I grabbed my trusty Macbook. We’d been through some good times, hadn’t we? If only it could talk. It can talk, obviously, but I don’t have those programmes. Or if I do, I don’t even realise…and I probably wouldn’t know how to work them anyway. Just as well. We’ve shared too many broads on P*rnhub to have it go blabbing to my old lady.

Suddenly, my attention was drawn to a female ghost-robot levitating outside the living room window. Despite being a ghost, somehow she was affected by rain and it was running down her neck, making her white t-shirt translucent and her ghost-robot breasts clearly visible.

It was at that moment that Vin Diesel kicked the living room door down.”

Largely accurate, with a touch of artistic licence.

Still sh*t though, isn’t it?

OK, the other way to may a blog interesting is to make a feature out of how uninteresting it is. That way you can read it while laughing and saying “Ha! Twat!” to yourself, before forwarding it to one of your mates. That’s why people read blogs, right? Guys? Right guys? Please, don’t make me judge myself. I’m already a guy writing a daily blog to try to hold myself together. Don’t tell me that my blog-reading manner judges me in an equally distressing way as my blog-writing.

So let’s go for the deeply uninteresting re-telling of yesterday:

“Had breakfast, took out the rubbish, sat down and started typing up some joke ideas for a podcast (not mine), started putting together a show outline for another podcast (more ‘me’ involvement in that one), played with the cat, ate the dinner the missus cooked (normally it’s me who cooks but she wasn’t at work yesterday), read/edited/added pics for about 4 SCFC stories, went through the papers to make a note football stories for my own SCFC article to go up tomorrow.”

That involved about 8 hours in front of a computer screen. Apart from taking out the rubbish, which Macs are still sadly incapable of doing. The final battle between Macs & PCs will no doubt come down to which one won’t keep a black bag sitting for too long in your hallway. I don’t play games, so Skyrim or Assassin’s Creed don’t interest me as much as “Refuse Management III: Bin Day”.

I am under pressure though. Real pressure from real deadlines.

Can I get this blog finished with the remaining battery power on the Macbook so that I don’t have to leave the warm bed to go and get the power cable from the living room? Think on issues like these while you sit in your office dabbling with your global banking job. When has banking ever had any consequences for the world? Yet what would happen if I didn’t manage to get this blog done?

A global financial collapse is a pretty trifling concern when set against 50 readers missing out on the opportunity to wonder about what I’m wearing in bed as I type this. (Boxers & a t-shirt, let your self-abuse commence now.)

Well, there you go, this blog is now over 800 words – and what’s it about? F*ck all. What’s the point of it? F*ck all.

Not actually correct. It serves much the same purpose as when elderly people ask people in the supermarket to reach something from the shelf…which they can actually reach perfectly well. It’s just a way of feeling like they’ve had a conversation that day. I now feel like I’ve engaged with other human beings today. I have engaged with another human being today though, so I’m just being greedy. I’ve moaned at my fiancee over the alarm situation. She’s since left the room, and I’ve heard her take a shower. I’m not sure the latter part counts as interaction though. I wasn’t actively ‘listening’ to her, it’s just a small flat. We’re engaged though, I’m pretty sure I’d be allowed to ‘listen’ to her having a shower even if we were on the Western Isles. Probably not if it was a Sunday though.

Actually, would blind people who listen to women in the shower – who (whom?) they’re not entitled to listen to – be classed as “listening toms” instead of “peeping toms”? Would you be able to give a blind prowler an erection just by turning on a tap?

Have studies been done?

I’m glad we’ve been able to have this chat, I think it’s brought up some important issues.

Teddy x