Another Christmas gig last night and, once again, I got away with it. The nightmare that is the Christmas gig is bound to rape my face off sometime in the next two weeks but, as of yet, I've managed to avoid any really bad ones. Last night was the 99 Club in Leicester Square, the (nearly) original home of The Comedy Store. Things didn't start well because I got there an hour and a half too early which is incredibly unfashionable even for me. Then when I went down to the bar for a beer they said they only did bottles. I don't like that. They may as well serve NOTHING. A bottle of beer is absolutely fine if you're the kind of person who really, really hates beer but is too spineless to admit it. I'm not that kind of person. Firstly there is NO beer in a bottle of beer and secondly it's generally more expensive than a pint glass that actually has beer in it. So, that put me in a foul mood. Then the show started and compere Lee Nelson was so funny that it made the gig almost impossible. He introduced me to the stage but, as he was brilliant, I wanted him to stay on. It was all that me and the audience had in common. Well, for a few minutes anyway. After that it was actually quite fun even if I was all over the place. Then, in my last two minutes when I was feeling very confident that the gig was going well, I saw Robin Ince walk in. I'm not sure when the last time was that Robin saw me do stand-up but from the second I saw him standing there I became as cack-handed and annoying as I was back then. Although he's younger than me, I take Robin as a sort of Father figure. I even want him to beat me sometimes. And I definitely feel terrible when I'm totally unfunny onstage in front of him. He's so head and shoulders above practically everyone on the circuit that, suddenly, my jokes about dogs not even being the same as cats start to dry up in my mouth. Even worse were his compliments afterwards because, although he barely mentioned the gig, he started praising the blog and telling me how I have to do a show somehow based on them. I'm trying to write my first one-man show right now and I agreed that it would be best if I made it a bit bloggy. This is shit because now that I've said it to Robin I'm going to have to actually do it because if I don't then he'll be right about me being a lazy hack. He never said that, of course, but there is a chance that he thinks it. So now I've got to write a show based on fury and powered by guilt. I fucking hate Robin. If you see him, punch his cunting punchable face in the face. Or join this: http://www.facebook.com/gr
By the way, it was also very nice to see Andrew Bird last night who reminded me of the time we travelled to Aberystwyth together. To cut a long story short, I started shouting "Is everyone on this train a fucking arsehole". It was before blogging so it was my only outlet.