Still in west wales, after 5 days, leccy’s still out. I was stuck in stockport on sunday night because all trains were buggered. Jon Abrams saved my bacon….again, i was meant to sat with a couchsurfer person, but i couldn’t face it – too many messages. I did a gig in Buxton Opera House on friday. it is a massive room, and agraman himself (He books the Buzz comedy clubs) told me it is the hardest room he’s got. and there were some voices comin from the audience. maybe on coke said some. the gig was pretty good but rough at the end. I got an ovation of 4 people at the end, in a crowd of 154 people. were they four cokeheads ? i don t know, but such was the darkness and the vastness of the room that it made me feel insecure, i mean 4 people liked me out of a huge amount who perhaps didn’t….no they did.

Sale arts center the next day…i knew it would be awkward. as it was last time.. Dave williams was MC and it was good to see him. The legend continues. In Sale arts centre there was also a small exhibition of Ray Harryhausen models and paraphenalia, including old test footage of unfinished projects. a great alien in War of the Worlds.

anyway, i took the bus from Buxton to Stockport, and then took a very long bus journey to Sale. the wind and the rain were cold whilst i stood by the bus stop. a langorous languid loquacious afternoon…I spent a long afternoon and evening in a room in the arts centre, but did go for a meal, sawarma meat and rice and salad.

That reminds me i had a great meal in newcastle, on the friday morning…a cheapy cafe with an ambience out of the sixties. Laaagane salad and cheaps/chips. Mmmm. The gigs up there on the thursday night went great. But , in heaton stan fc gig a woman came up to at the end and said ‘you upset me and my husband because you waved your hand in front of my husband’s face….and he/we a neurological disorder’. This really happened…she was moody, and sour faced, and perhaps the neurological disorder is more a desire not to smile or laugh.

As i say i was stuck in stockport both saturday and Sunday night. curse = the timing was terrible as i had a gig on monday afternoon. This gig was to be a challenge in more ways than one. Getting there of course was part of the fun. i got a 7.30 train to Crewe where i changed for Birmingham (the train staff at the station told me it would b possible to go direct to Newport but they were wrong, there was a train down on the Hereford line)….i had to get to Newport so Dewi could meet me and give me lift to the gig and back. Forest Hills golf club near the village of Mile End…what a drive to get there, through the vistas of Chepstow. The castle is magnificent above the river….Normans knew what they were doing when keeping the welsh out. the little bridges. Dewi drives like a demon in his big pick up truck. We wnet back to his house first and i rested on the sofa. But then his dog, Juno, is a pain in the arse. This dog has OCD when it comes to playing fetch, she will do it all day long, and won’t let it rest. She doesn’t even bother with a stick, she picks up tiny twigs, leaves, tiny bits of bark, before too long she’ll be pickin up quanta of atoms and asking a human to throw it for her.

The gig in the golf club was tough, i had to wait over an hour past the stage time b4 going on. I did it using the house sound system – what is it about radio microphones, why are they so shit? cutting out.

did teh gig under difficult circumstances. i go out to the foyer and drink my guiness, the first thing that happens a woman comes out, comes up tom – i’m thinking to say something complimentary – she says ‘you shoudln’t use the word retard, make fun of blah blah blah’ , it made me angry as i’d just worked hard to entertain a difficult room, i told her so as well. she keeps on about it. i say ‘I t’s comedy’ she says ‘it isn’t’. I say ‘ it is;!!!!