I did the last night in my 5 day residency at "The Stand". Unfortunately the "Festival of Jim" ended with more of a wet fart than a stupendous fanfare.
It's very easy to blame the audience in situations like this. But just because it's easy doesn't mean that I shouldn't do it.
Let's face it, they were moribund. The comedy audience from hell. All 20 of them.
It wasn't a "death", I hasten to add. There was a respectable chuckle count. But chuckles just don't do it for me. I want big laughs. Otherwise the teddy is on a whistle-stop journey out of my pram.
Of course top comedians can make any audience laugh in any situation. But they are generally smart arse tossers, and who would want to be like that anyway. I mean, really. To be consistently brilliant and hilarious must get very tedious after a while.
I get the thrill of the uncertainty. It could be a night of triumph or it could be a ticket for the Titanic. If I keep repeating this often enough to myself, I'm hoping I will eventually believe it.
I popped up afterwards to see funny man Richard Pulsford at "Nichol Edwards" in Niddrie St. He triumphed in a new talent competition with an assured performance.
I've always really enjoyed his material, but his performance hasn't quite matched it.
Tonight he got them both right.
I snuck off into the night when I realised that the witching hour was approaching. I'd momentarily forgotten that I was back working for "the man" again.
Did you notice that when the stage winner of the Tour de France gets presented with his jersey, that it fastens round the back like a surgeons overall?
This is obviously designed to allow him to keep his sponsors hat on at all times throughout the process. Oh dear...oh dear...oh dear.
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