Were you there...

...killed

that's the short version. we did it. we kicked scottish comedy festival
ass...

in my correspondence with the producer of the show for the last couple
of months, i stated over and over all i need is "a projector for a
powerpoint presentation and two stands that we can put laptops on. two
music stands that will flatten out will be perfect."

you know. yeah. neither.

i was mentally prepared to have nothing go right. so when they said
"well, we'll be getting a projector in the next couple of days..." i was
resigned to not having a projector.

a guy there said he could get us a projector for today's show. then
Anil, who is playing dr. doctor abayomi, mentioned that the other show
he's doign uses a projector.

so, we got the first guy's projector.

then he dropped the money bomb. "A festival fee of 700 pounds" that's
1400 bucks. 1400 motherfucking dollars.

If i knew that i was going to have to pay for projector rental, i
would've bought one. so then Anil talked to the other folks and arranged
for us to get the projector for free.

so go fuck your "festival fee" you fuckwad.

during this, the superhuman claire, went and picked up the projector.
amazing. she saved our ass.

they had been scrambling for stools for us to put the computers on. they
were too low, but again, i'd resigned myself to nothign being right the
first day. claire said "if everything were perfect, what would be here?"
i said "two music stands that we could put the computers on."

"right"

about 20 minutes later, "can-do claire" shows up with two music stands.
they didn't bend, but we taped the computers to them.

we'd been doing "tech" during all of this. the poor girl who was running
the board had never done it before and wasn't used to the old school
board. but, she stuck with it and we finished tech with about 20 minutes
to spare.

claire brought us sandwiches and tea and we ran Anil through his stuff.
he's a pro so he wasn't worried. neither were we.

we'd sold a pantsload of tickets. 25. unheard of for a preview. 10
people from london had seen the article in the times and bought tickets.


that's the kind of spontaneous publicity i need to get ahead!

victor had some glitches. i had some glitches. and after a few pages, we
began to relax into the script and began rocking it.

i need to be comfortable at the top with the narration and then i think
things will breathe a bit more.

but the show fucking killed. the two phone calls worked. provenz' was
right. i was wrong. it wasn't too long.

we also need to leave room for laughs, though that can be dicey. you
leave that space, no one laughs, you're a dickhead.

i have to track down jon and get the music stand situation squared away
because we lose the two we have on friday.

dad arrives friday. that will be cool.

we were standing for about 4 hours. i'm am exhausted.

only 25 more shows!

holy balls.

must sleep.

must fucking sleep.

i need to be alone. communal living is not for me.

rock.

killed...

we killed...


  ¶ 10:00 AM