Pascoe is undertaking his PhD in Edinburgh, so I took the opportunity to visit the Fringe.
After last year’s close encounter with the excellent stand-up, John Kearns, you’d think I would have learned to sit at the back and stay quiet. However, late at night, in the Banshee Labyrinth, I did find myself responding to the compere’s plea and joining in a poetry slam where they were short-handed.
Since I didn’t know I would be attending a poetry slam, nor indeed what one actually was, let alone that I would be taking part, a veil is probably best drawn over my performance.
And, Pascoe, although I said that it was an accident when I stamped on your phone, I have to confess that it wasn’t really.
Never video your mother when she’s had a whole half of cider and decides to “do some poetry” in a public place.
Apart from that debacle, I was finding some of the comedians just too potty-mouthed. It annoys me when a sparky, talented and devastatingly funny person has to resort to jokes about oral sex to feel sure of a laugh.
Instead, Pascoe and I went to more shows this time, and loved Fable for its idealism, Bromance for its wit and incredible skill and The Night Watch, for an excellent performance from Sasoon Moskofian and colleagues.