This is the dawn of the gig of appocalypse

its early. its raining. Getting smashed on wine last night seemed like a good idea. shouting in the garden with Rhonda against imaginary foes at high volume such classics as which one of you cunts is first? It will cost you one eye to get into my house! Turns out my dog Abbey had been crashing through garden canes, so there was no night of the living dead attack squadron circling at all. Then drunkenly apologised to the houses around us using even higher volume and pretty much the same words, but in reverse. I don't know how we were going to give them an extra eye though.

This evening 1 and a half hour drive (too far), 9 comics (too many) and me doing an hour at the end(too much fun for one man to handle). It might be alright, or it'll be one of those gigs, the gigs that live in the memory and are discussed around pint number 5. To be honest I'm looking forward to it. As long as no one says they are going to get their knife(essex Xmas 1996) and I don't have to stand on stage watching a riot I'm pretty sure I caused (Bracknell 1997) its all gravy.

About Bracknell. I know its one of the nicest gigs ever (if its still there) and its nearly impossible to create a situation where the bracknell police come running into a room where bedlam is indeed ensuing, while the compere (my good self) is jumping into the fray mic and stand in hand yelling "you can't do that you have to leave." Difficult my friends, but take it from me, not impossible. anyone gigging with Kev McCarthy this weekend, see if he remembers. Also ask Simon Evans and Jeffrey? Toombs.

For those who don't do stand up, these kind of gigs are the best ever. Visceral, with a certain savage beauty