Happy.

The last two days have been brilliant. A lot of fun can be had in Edinburgh despite the people, places and objects up here. Don't get me wrong, there have been times when I wanted to indulge in a spot of casual genocide but generally the last two days have been just great.

I had an excellent Edinburgh NO on Saturday. I'm pretty convinced that if you want anything up here, anything at all, you can't get it. You're not allowed it. They will not provide that service. NO. Johnny and I are still a bit uncomfortable about the ending of the show so we had to do a quick re-write. That meant getting a pen. Pretty simple. But not up here. We walked all the way down South Bridge and could not find a shop that sold a pen. We looked everywhere. Even in a chemists, which we both admitted later was just stupid. Then we found a newsagents near Nicholson Square. They're bound to have pens. Unfortunately, my mouth went all broke when I asked for the pen. "Can I have a red pen, please?", I said. "Sorry. A blue pen, I mean". What a dick. Why did I say red pen? No-one writes with a red pen. It looks too angry and also it looks like whatever it is you're writing is probably quite stupid. No-one uses a red pen for actual writing. A red pen is rubbish. It was a blue pen I wanted. A blue pen is perfect for writing with. It's taken seriously as an ink colour but, at the same time, it isn't as formal and boring as black ink. Perfect for writing comedy, really. Yes, it was a blue pen I wanted not a red one. I said red but I meant blue. I have no idea why I asked for a red pen because it was a blue pen I definitely wanted and that's why I quickly rectified the situation by requesting a blue pen right after the red pen fuck-up. The lady handed me a pen. It was black.

So off we went to Susie's to write our ending. Susie's makes the best vegetarian food in Edinburgh. Delicious food that is very, very good for you. Sadly, everything else in the place makes you want to explode with fury. The staff are OK but the clientèle are just arseholes. The place is tiny but the people who eat there decide that it's still big enough for their massive all-terrain 4X4 baby buggies that they force into your rickety wooden chair every single time you're about to take a bite of food. Plus the noise in the place is the most uncomfortable sound you've ever heard. People are constantly moving around in this little place (mainly so they can fuck your chair with a pram) and that means listening to them scraping their rickety wooden chairs across the tiled floor. CONSTANTLY. It's a horrible, shrill, shoulder-tensing sound that means you just can't relax. It's like being shouted at by a million Kristen Schaals.

Our shows on Saturday and Sunday were very good but that ending is still missing. We've re-written it now and the voiceover stuff should be recorded in time for tomorrow's show. It's still good, it just ends a bit weird. The good thing is that we've had great feedback from our audiences. Lots pof people have emailed, Facebooked and Twittered me to say very nice things. I'm really grateful. Even better, some people have waited around afterwards to ask if they can see the foot lump. That brings me a lot of joy.

I've even seen a show. Only one but it's a start. I saw Stewart Lee's If You Prefer A Milder Comedian Just Ask For One at The Stand Comedy Club. It was, as I predicted, annoyingly brilliant. He's a superb comedian who just can't seem to do wrong. I know some people don't like him but those people are fucking idiots. Worse than paedophiles, in my eyes. They should be shot. If you are in any way a good, decent human being then you should make the effort to see his show. I was doing The Stand's Best of Irish, so I was, which is on just before Stewart's show so had a brief chat with him before he went on. Unfortunately, Stewart Lee carries a certain weight with him and all of a sudden absolutely everything you say or think just appears stupid, childish and dull. I am 40 (nearly 41) and yet this man makes me feel like I am a child who hasn't learned how to walk properly yet and only knows how to say about three words. Still, at least he was sitting beside me on a sofa talking. It would be worse if he was sitting in the front row of our show.

On Sunday, Stewart Lee was sitting in the front row of our show. What a thoughtless cunt he is. He knows that I'm an idiot but he finds my idiocy and his superiority over it so amusing that he would actually pay money to experience it further. The fucking prick. I hate Stewart Lee.

His CD "What Would Judas Do?" is also excellent. The fucking, fucking cunt.

A brilliant late night show at The Late Show on Saturday just topped off a really great day for me. It was sold out and the audience were just fantastic. David O'Doherty was on. I've never seen him before and I thought he was absolutely excellent. Paul Sinha closed and was his usual brilliant self, his Edinburgh show should be very worth seeing. Plus I got to meet two friends from the world of Twitter. Nicola and Sarah hung out afterwards for a drink and they were just as charming in real life as they are in 140 characters or less. To be honest, I think they just wanted to see the foot lump.I can't blame them. The foot lump is beautiful.

A lovely ending to a lovely day. Perfect. How could it go wrong now? EASY. On my way home I was lured by the calling of Brooke's Bar. I love that bar and there's pretty much always a friend in there. I sat with Corry Shaw, Michael Fabbri and Marisa Ferguson and remarked upon how great the day had been. One drink later I'm telling two stories I shouldn't have. I still feel really embarrassed about it. If you have any stories about your poo and a cat or your semen and a friends coat then always remember to keep them to yourself.

Let's end on a high. Big congratulations to Niall Browne. He deserves all our praise and respect as he had made an incredible uber-chameleonic, élan ringtone by splicing bits of Marcus Massey's voiceovers together with some "wicked" "beats". It's fantastic and it makes me very happy.

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