Week one of the Edinburgh Fringe was spent searching for internet, trying to figure out sodium content on european labels, Learning to live with roommates; two gay solo performers and a 75 year old comedienne stripper who has become the toast of Edinburgh and wrote her name on her toilet paper so we don’t use it. I understand, that’s how I feel about my ambien and coffee filters. There is one more roommate who’s over 60 and she’s just starting out in comedy. So I’m the young chick. But we never see the two senior ladies who stay out till 3 am every night.
Oh yes I also opened my show at the Zoo Southside on Nicolson st and got 4 stars from “The List” an important publication in these parts. They called me “Absurdly Brilliant.” They also said my Gold Lame jacket and matching boots were ridiculous. But that is so not true- my boots don’t match the jacket at all.
Edinburgh is a lose money deal usually and I’m in the usually category. Last time I played this festival was 1994. I had a rich producer, full court press, my own one bedroom flat and spending money. Now I’m broke as a joke having to put up my own posters. My producer this time is a clown. At first I was in denial. I thought his act was juggling and magic. When anybody asked me about my clown producer I snapped “Where’s his fucking red nose then?”But at his show last night he made balloon animals. And he is never without his little red brimmed pork pie hat. Pretty sure my producer is a clown. They don’t always have red noses.
I went to a very hip party for lesbians and friends last week called Velvet. They invited me to perform a few minutes and afterwards I gave out flyers, accepted a beer, made some new friends and invited myself over to their house for Sunday Roast. As I left the club I said to some other girls- I’ll see you here next Saturday but one lass sadly told me “This party is only once a year” (you imagine the scottish brogue)
So that leaves CC Blooms for semi lesbian night life. It’s got a reputation as grim -like one of those dives we come out in to make sure we’re serious about being gay. Anyone can come out in a pretty bar.I tried handing flyers outside of this place but gave up after a table of dykes (and two pit bulls) thought that I was performing at an actual zoo.