I had just posted off the first 70 or so of the 150 limited edition programmes to you lovely people who paid so much money for them (I will try to get famous enough so that these become worth more than you paid for them, but might have to commit an atrocity to make this happen - but I so appreciate your support that I am prepared to do this). I will get the rest out as soon as possible.
I really needed a wee, but was also looking to buy a birthday present for a friend and so thought I would kill two birds with one stone and pop into posh store Harvey Nicks where they have both gifts and a toilet (and failing that I could always just buy something and wee on it).
When I got into the loo there were two young boys at the urinals and someone else in the cubicle, so I had to take my place at the third urinal next to them. The boys were giggling about something, really laughing with absolute glee and it was a bit off-putting. I didn't really want to take too much interest in what was going on, because in this day and age a 39 year old man standing with his penis out, looking at two children also with their penises out is considered a bad thing. I hanker for the good old days when this wasn't the case, but times have changed, my friend, so I tried to just concentrate on my own business, but the childish laughter made it difficult for me to get going. Were these lads laughing at me? Should I shout at them, "Yes, I know it's small, but it's really cold in here all right. It's a grower not a show-er!"
No obviously not. Fifty years ago, perhaps, but not now in the climate of paedo fear that grips the nation.
After a minute I managed to realise what the boys were laughing at (and I wasn't looking at them, I could just see from my peripheral vision - God this is coming out badly for me). The smaller one was not tall enough to use the urinal and was standing on tip-toe trying and failing to do his wee. Consequently his wee was flying all over the place (you see, this is why I had to keep an eye on them, to make sure his child-wee did not hit me). The more he giggled the worse his aim became. He and his friend (probably his brother) were in hysterics. The younger boy was just saying "Wee" and laughing even more and the room was filled with infectious purile chortles. I wanted to look across at them and laugh as well, but this would have been inappropriate and could have been misconstrued, so I just carried on trying to do my own wee and not come across as some terrifying old nonce. The boys finished first and the younger boy pointed at the high point on the wall where his wee had hit, totally missing the urinal, said "wee" again and laughed even more. It is a shame to think that I spend my life trying to come up with amusing scenes and sentences and yet something that comes out of the human body every day is more amusing than most of the things I write (unless I write a joke about wee, like I am doing now). Even though this incident involved someone weeing all over the wall and floor (which is presumably annoying for the cleaner of that particular toilet) it was one of the most charming and amusing things I have witnessed this festival. Though to even admit this in public in this day and age is enough to see me go down for five years. But luckily, even you reading this story is akin to downloading kiddie porn so if anyone rats me out they will go to prison too. So you keep my secret and I'll keep yours.
On Friday night (if I haven't been arrested)I am appearing in Paul Provenza's "Talk of the Fest" at 11.15(I think) in the Underbelly (same room as I do my show). Paul has been very supportive since seeing me at Spank! and for the only time in his run I am going to be the only guest on the show, which is very flattering. We had a good talk about the mechanics of comedy on Monday for his documentary and I expect this will be more of the same. If you are a boring nerd who loves comedy then this should be quite interesting.
