Show four of Fat Roland: Seven Inch was, as the owl insisted to the birdsong fraud squad, a real hoot.
I'm getting quality audiences this year. Numbers are okay, but even better, the people who are turning up are proper laughy. They've got silly in their belly.
I didn't get time yesterday to write this. I got up, flyered, did the show, met a mate for lunch, worked on the props, went to another show, did a five-minute spot at the Big Gay Storyslam, then stayed out for drinks.
That "worked on the props" means resetting my 200+ props in order, and mending anything broken. I have to allow three hours a day for this, although I can do it in two. If you saw the show, you'd see why. Yeesh.
The Big Gay Storyslam (pictured) was fun. I told my tale of coming out in a church magazine - packed with giggly moments of course. The worthy winner was a guy who told, for the first time, a sad story of toxic relationships. A real pause-for-thought moment.
A quieter day today. Flyering, show, lunch, props, more flyering, chill, sorted. If you're in Edinburgh, come and see the 'show' bit of that sentence.
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