Hooked on a Feeling

I always get a funny feeling in my bones this time of year.  I used to put that down to a combination of pollen and that post holiday itch but it’s definitely the fringe’s fault.  Honestly I feel as excited as Madonna leafing through an African baby catalogue.
 
Firstly, going onstage at 6.20pm has been a revelation.  It is a bit earlier in the evening than I’m used to which has thrown up a scary thought - for the first festival ever my audience are sober. Though being Scottish I know you can't always take that one for granted.
 
My show poster is quite Soviet looking which means folk turning up asking whether I want to kick off the cold war again.  I politely declined, explaining that we already have our own version of the cold war in Scotland.  It’s basically an argument between two people in a Falkirk flat deciding if August is too early to put the central heating on.
 
I almost had a brilliant celeb spot as well.  Second day in I had a woman from West Lothian in the audience called Susan Boyle.  Yay!  Turns out it wasn’t that Susan Boyle.  Boo! This one owned tweezers and didn’t smell of cat.

Still, I did get that funny feeling in my bones again. That's the fringe for you.