So... I'm doing some stand-up comedy tomorrow. I've been printing my diary of last year's foray into the world of stand-up on my other blog and it's interesting to see how the emotions are still the same now I've got a few "gigs" tucked under my belt. I go from blatant denial that it's going to happen to intense excitement and/or fear about it. I've been chopping and changing my material like a little choppy changey person. It's frankly, quite possibly, good/bad depending on how it goes.
I'm trying to keep my stand-up and my radio career separate from each other so in theory I won't mention my "gig" on my show or visa versa.
The gig I'm doing is a "Gong Show", so what happens is if they like you, you get to stay on but if they don't you get booed off. When I say 'they' I mean random audience members. I much prefer these types of shows. If you're a new comedian you're obviously going to be a bit sh#t. If you're a bit s#it you need someone to tell you to f#ck off. Otherwise people have to endure LOADS of #hit. No one wants that. Only farmers, because it's good for their fields. Erm. That wasn't a joke. Honest. Fuc#. I'm fu#ked again aren't I?
So it looked like I'd killed it. It was looking smooth and flat but now once again the bumpy hilly landscape I know (and yes, to some extent even, love) is returning. That's the problem with the steroid creme, it does it for a bit and then it's game over baby. Blood on the bed. Yuk.