April 17th, Thursday. Gig No.14, Gagged and Bound, Camden

I won't lie. At one point this afternoon I lay on the couch and stared at the ceiling in deliciously depressive miserablism. How the fuck am I going to do this challenge? Things aren't going as well as planned. A lot of the gigs are fairly dispiriting. Most promoters are good and run decent spaces but audiences are a bit thin on the ground. (I don't understand that expression. What's thin on the ground? Roadkill?) Most of all, I'm not satisfied with how my new act is going. (Did I mention, I am building a new act. If I didn't mention that, it's probably because I know most of you would insist on coming to a gig cause you want to to see me at my worst. But that's a good sign - You can handle me at my worst, so you definitely deserve me at my best! Ooo la la. I'm going to start dressing up as Marilyn Monroe) I just lay there on the couch, pissed off, fed up, thinking of dropping the new act. Actually considering digging out all the old stuff that worked and rehashing it all into a serviceable, workable set, that gets solid, if not spectacular, laughs. In a word, material that when I do it, a little piece inside of me dies. Not all material you do that actually works makes you feel good about yourself. Sometimes it feels too cheap, too easy. Like you're cheating. It's like a magic trick, it looks good when you do it, but underneath you know it's all a sham. McDonald's is a good example. It’s nice when you stuff your gob with chicken nuggets and big macs, but when you walk out of there you hate yourself. That's what I was going to do tonight. McDonald's comedy. (No, I wasn't going to dress up as Ronald McDonald. I told you already, I'm Marilyn Monroe. To keep us both happy, when you come, I may dress as both.) Not the stuff I wanted to do. The new stuff. What is the new stuff? Basically, the new stuff is all the really stupid, childish stuff that I really enjoy doing. I enjoy being stupid and childish. I enjoy being a reckless imbecile, running around acting like a fucking tool. Its FUN. That what I want my act to be. Fun. I don't want to do McDonald's comedy. And I don't need to change the world either come to think of it. The world gets on fine without me. (Well, the world is turning into a toilet. Mainly because of McDonald's. But there you go. I’d love to do something about it but I haven’t been elected to world wide totalitarian dictatorship just yet. When I am, I’ll be a nice dictator. I will sort the environment out, make sure everyone is nice to each other, and everyone can have whatever haircuts they like. If anyone disobeys, I will have them gutted like pigs. I will kill their friends. I will kill their families. I will kill their families friends and their friends families. I will kill their families friends families. I will kill them all.) Many acts are spreading the message in far more capable ways than me. I'm not interested in lecturing or enlightening people. I just want to have a fucking good time. Sometimes, simply cheering people up is the best thing you can do. I enjoy seeing people laugh. I've always enjoyed it. Watching sitcoms like Fools and Horses and Red Dwarf as a kid and seeing my family laugh like drains - I loved that. I remember every time Trigger called Rodney Dave or the Cat smashed Lister with a spade I'd always look over and see them cracking up, faces beetroot red with mirth. (Well my Dad’s face had more to do a rare alcoholic skin condition) I'd get a real kick out of it. I'd love to do that myself. I wonder sometimes if stand up is a bit meaningless and stupid but it's not. People work hard, they have kids to bring up, bills to pay. Comedy is probably one of the healthiest means we have of taking a break from the daily grind. People drink booze, take Valium, tour sex shops and buy blow up sheep. Or they can go to a comedy night and watch comedians. Talk about booze, Valium, fucking blow up sheep. Do it, or enjoy it vicariously through pervert others. That's the choice we all have. (This realisation actually depresses me more) As for stand ups, when we fuck blow up sheep, we’re not enjoying it. We're thinking how much we hate ourselves, disgusted at the men we've become, and then, suddenly, realising: “One day, this will cheer up an audience member who's really down about life!” And that perks us up immediately. (So much so we pop the sheep. See? I'm seriously childish). Anyway, I didn't do the McDonald's magic act. I didn't need it. Tonight's gig was huge fun. We had a real audience, and it was run with love. The promoters went out of their way to make the gig as fun and well run as possible. As for me, yes, I was childish and stupid. And there’s no shame in it. We don't all have to be edgy and dangerous comic philosophers. In the words of my hero Stan Laurel: “What we were trying to do was make people laugh in as many ways as we could, without trying to make a point or get into deep meaning”. If that's good enough for Stan, it’s good enough for me.

Gig No.14 done. Co promoter and gent Kyle Wallace