Thursday, 2 August 2012

Sore Ed.

So here I am once more, in the playground of the broken hearts...

Balls. Why in the name of fuck have I come back to the Edinburgh fucking Fringe? Why didn't you stop me from coming back? This is all your fault, you massive bastard. Now I have 4 weeks of being leapt on by young people who are really happy to tell you about their improvised musical semi-autobiographical one man juggling topical sketch revue play and 4 weeks of avoiding comedians who "sold out again tonight" and 4 weeks of rain, misery and failure.

Please come to see my show.

To be very honest, I'm having a breakdown already. Yesterday was Day One and already I've gone mad. It's the loneliness, you see. I've never done Edinburgh on my own before and it's horribly lonely. It's really hard doing a show without Johnny Candon or Robin Ince. Really hard. I mean, it's not as hard as doing a show with Johnny Candon or Robin Ince but it's bloody tough. I miss those guys. And it's been lonely right from the beginning. As soon as I got to King's Cross station on Monday I met Dan Mersh and Paul Litchfield of The Trap and we celebrated the beginning of a month of hell by them immediately going to standard class on the train and me to first class. Oh, I might be wealthy enough to be able to afford luxury but it's lonely at the top of the mountain. I sat on my own while they went with the other poor people to play fiddles, drink whisky, dance and shag our wealthy fiances. I just sat on my own and worried. It wasn't all bad. I met Les Dennis on the train and we are now best friends. He calls me Leggy. Well, I hope he will one day. I love Les. I wonder if he'll ever call me? It's been 3 days now. Please don't leave me alone up here, Les. I need you.

I'm jealous of everyone up here this year. Everyone is more successful and funnier than me. And none of them are lonely. The Trap make me sick. Not only do they have 3 people in their sketch group but also they have about 5 other people on their team. One to direct the show, one produce it, one to tech it, one to usher it and one to write "CUNTS" on all the Idiots Of Ants posters. I could have done that. Why can't I be in a team? Why do I have to be alone? Being solo is shit. Even more so if you're me. I'm the last person I want to work with. 

I wonder if the really successful solo stand up comedians feel like this? I hope not. I wouldn't wish any of them to feel this alone and frightened and sick. I mean, I hope most of them do but in theory I wouldn't wish this feeling on anyone. Mind you, Edinburgh is keeping me too busy to feel genuinely sorry for myself. And when I say busy, I mean furiously angry. Today I saw a cunt flyering his show while he had his pants round his ankles. If anyone punches him I will buy them a helicopter. Last night a woman sang me a description of her fucking awful show. If anyone punches her I will buy them a helicopter full of wine. But, for the billionth year running, the real cunts of the Edinburgh Fringe are the wankers who INSIST on putting "Star of..." on their posters. What do you mean "Star of the Michael McIntyre Comedy Roadshow"? Are you Michael Mcintyre? "Star of 8 Out Of 10 Cats"? Are you Jimmy Carr? ARE YOU JIMMY CARR? No. You're not. You're Josh Widdecombe and don't you forget it.

My show started yesterday. I was delighted that anyone at all came to see it. Thank you to those who did. It was fun but it's not quite there yet. I've come up with a brand new beginning and ending that I think is very funny. Mind you, I've had to drop one of my favourite bits which I also thought was very funny but ABSOLUTELY EVERYONE DISAGREED. That's fine. I like the show changing. Come see it now and then again at the end. You can play Spot The Difference.

Get more Legge embarrassment at the Edinburgh Fringe. I'm very proud and happy to say that my show, Michael Legge: What a Shame, is on nearly every day of the fringe at the fantastic Stand Comedy Club. Here's info:  

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