Well, that was the message I posted on my Facebook and Twitter accounts last night. Perhaps looking back I was a little sensitive. As one friend commented on Facebook: A bad workman blames his tools and all that...
So last night at The Old School Yard was not my finest hour. In fact, it was pretty awful. I have done bad gigs before. I have died on my arse and lived to fight another day. But last night got to me. The last few weeks have been brilliant, what with getting through to the semi-final of the Golden Jester, and then smashing it at Dirty Dicks last week (Dirty Dicks is a pub by the way, I obviously wouldn't smash a dirty dick - this is not that type of blog!), it was pretty annoying to be standing there (delivering material which has been doing the business for me in recent weeks) to a bunch of silent spotty teenagers.
It is the first time I have really wondered why I do this. Why do I put myself through it?
At the start of the year, and until recently, I never moaned about having a bad gig, or a quiet audience, but now - nearly a year in - I feel like I have paid my dues, and if I want to rant, then I will rant dammit!
I'm not the funniest guy in the world - hell, I'm not the funniest guy on the open mic circuit - but I have a set that works! Comedy is subjective and all that, but right now I just want to rant. I am going to see how I get on in the Golden Jester, and then after that, who knows? Maybe it is time to give comedy a break for a while...
Knob-head students.
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