Fun Flies when you're Having Time

So I've got to write this before it goes any longer. The difficulty with blogging is that it's way too easy to get out of the habit of doing it--especially if you're surrounded by the largest arts festival in the world, and beer. And my, oh, my, has there been beer. I feel like a character in a Tom Waits song--stumbling through the days, howling out the nights, burning fast and bright with elation to the tune of ten star reviews, crashing hard when the people who base their Edinburgh expereince on such reviews come see the show and just don't get it. It's a constant state of bi-polar elation and jagged defeat, a steam train hurtling through the night stoked by booze and belching cigarette smoke and quippy one-liners.

We haven't blogged since the 17th, so here's what's up in a nutshell. Andy got his voice back, the boys had the girls over for the weekend, and they're lovely. The crowds were great on Saturday and Sunday, but we had a very quiet (though seemingly appreciate) crowd last night for Arts. That was a shame because Josie Long and Luke Wright were both in the audience, and we would have liked to have them see it with a great house. Also, after the show last night, apparently a woman stumbled out of the theatre and then vomited right in front of the venue, so we got that going for us.

Oppressed People went better, and it was a good thing--We had someone from the Montreal 'Just For Laughs' Festival in, as well as the vice-chief engineer of programming for CBS in New York. Sadly, no one has called and offered us a huge contract yet. We also got name checked in The Economist, and had this review in Culture Wars. Not so bad, not so great, to quote the venerable Kurt Vonnegut--So it goes.

Po-tee-weet.

For I am a Rain Dog, too.