This past week, I have had precisely no gigs. This is why there have been precisely no updates.
When I was in the midst of my writing 250 words-a-day-for-a-year challenge, I would write about anything to fill the space. Often, it would involve me going to the supermarket and allegedly beating the self-service till system. But this started to bore even me, plus I think bragging about my alleged self-service exploits may be the reason for the rapid rise in the price of apples. I’ve found it much better if I just write nothing about nothing.
Anyway, back to the gigs. I didn’t do any this week because I had none booked in. I was going to see if I could get on somewhere but this plan was scuppered when I found out that I had Glandular Fever through internet diagnosis.
I did some research and it looked as though I would have to spend the next six to eight weeks trying to conserve my energy to recover. What was I going to do? I would have to put comedy almost completely on hold, or risk prolonging the illness.
Luckily, a trip to the doctor confirmed that my diagnosis was completely inaccurate and I actually just have a persistent viral throat infection.
I really should know better than to trust internet diagnosis. I think in the past 12 years, I’ve diagnosed myself with just about every terminal illness there is.
Anyway, April is looking very busy for gigs, so barring my next misdiagnosed terminal illness, there should be more things for you to read.
In Edinburgh news, it would appear as though our Edinburgh plans are back on track. It won’t be from the independent mini-fringe venue idea I was toying with, that now looks unlikely; at least, for this year anyway. But I think me and Langton have a venue and a time-slot. I’m waiting for 100% confirmation, but you’ll find out in the next instalment.