I got home from the Chicago comedy festival about 2 weeks ago, and I am now into the third week of my longest continuous stretch at home since October 2007. I should really be outside skipping freely through one of the many wonderful public parks that Edinburgh has to offer in the summertime, but instead I am sitting at the kitchen table watching the rain batter off the pavement outside. It is 3 in the afternoon and I kid you not, the clouds in the sky are so dark that a moth is currently smashing his head against the window trying to get to the small blue light coming from my Ipod speakers. Either that, or he's just really into Coldplay.

To be fair, this is the first bad day in what has otherwise been a very pleasant couple of weeks here in Edinburgh. I haven't really done much, other than a little bit of reading and writing and watching far too much tennis. Of course this year's Wimbledon was particularly exciting because we had a bona fide potential winner in the form of Andy Murray. He was incredibly the 3rd seed going into the tournament. We haven't had a 3rd seeded sportsman from Scotland since they abolished the 50-foot Belly Flop at the Olympics! It was heartbreaking to see Murray crash out in the semi-finals, but at least that proves his ranking was spot on? It is a little known fact that when I was a kid I applied for a position as a ball boy at Wimbledon. I got a letter back from the Lawn Tennis Association informing me that I was ineligible because I did not attend one of the 'approved schools' from which their ball boys and ball girls are annually selected. Apparently, privately-educated children are better at picking up a ball on the run than the Oliver Twists of this world! It still hurts when I read that rejection letter...and the other 24 rejection letters they have sent me every year since. Apparently now, I'm 'too old.' Whatever! Fascists.

I am heading off to the Canadian festivals in Toronto and Montreal early next week, so if you live in either of these two mighty Canadian cities, then please come along. A good few of you have messaged me asking if I am doing the Edinburgh Festival this year? Unfortunately, I will not be there as I am off to LA for a while after Canada. I don't know if I have mentioned this in my previous correspondences, but I will be filming a one-man Comedy Central Special for my American friends in July (that's right, fuck you Lawn Tennis Association!) Nobody really knows who I am over there, so it will be interesting to see how it goes down? I am planning to be in the States until at least the end of the year. I will be doing gigs mainly, and hopefully I'll pick up a writing job, or a spot on Leno, or something? Anything? In preparation, I have been reading an absorbing book called The Presidents by Stephen Graubard. I figure if I'm gonna' be spending some time in the US, it's important to know my Bush's from my Roosevelts? (which sounds like something a dyslexic gardener might write.) I even went to the Hard Rock Café in Edinburgh on Saturday for lunch hoping to passively soak up some American culture on Independence Day, but instead discovered it was full of people from just about everywhere else on the planet except America. Besides, there is something not right about celebrating America's independence from England, when you yourself live in Scotland! Anyway, the point is, I'm not doing the Edinburgh festival this year, but I will definitely be back next year unless I get sidetracked with ball-boy-ing duties.

Well, it looks like it might be brightening up a bit out there, so I better go catch some rays, man. That moth is still banging it's head against the window so definitely a Coldplay fan. I will write another blog from Canada and let you know how my gigs with John Cleese went. Oh, didn't I mention that? Well, there's something to look forward to in my next blog...

Cheers everyone,

Danny

I'm writing this substantially long-overdue blog from my hotel room in Christchurch, New Zealand, where the management have very thoughtfully left on my desk a platter of cheese and a card with a picture of a gecko on the front and a message inside asking me to call them "if the bed sheets are tucked in too tight?" It's an unusual welcome note, but in the past 3 months of touring, I have received my fair share of strange gifts including a book on 'Mastering Body Language', a tartan cap with fake ginger hair sticking out the sides, a T-shirt with a somewhat disturbing stencil of my face on it, and a travel iron. Such gifts are always gratefully received but occasionally do result in some serious head-scratching (especially the tartan cap). One lady in South Australia (I forget where) baked me some muffins and left a note which read "best enjoyed with a long black" ,which I was later extremely relieved to find out was a style of coffee. Occasionally I get something quite special, like the very nice couple in Brisbane who presented me with some rather lovely limited edition prints, none of which had my face on them.

I have just completed another marathon tour of Australia and I'm now 5 shows into my New Zealand run. If you are interested to know how Kiwi audiences differ from Australian audiences, then I would draw your attention to a couple of young lads at the Civic Theatre in Auckland a few night's ago who only turned up for the last 20 minutes of the show. Then after taking their seats in the front row, one of them proceeded to casually make a phone call. The story gets even more astonishing when I found out that the guy he was calling was at the back of theatre! I'm pretty sure The Nutcracker Suite doesn't have this problem when it tours? When challenged, he proudly handed me the phone and asked me if I wouldn't mind saying "hello". It took enormous restraint not to take the phone from him and smash it into his stupid little face. Apart from that little incident the New Zealand shows have been going rather well.

I have now been on tour since the 31st of January and I think it's fair to say I'm ready to go home. That first gig in Mount Gambier back in January seems so very long ago now. I was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as I bounded onto the stage that evening in stark contrast to the weary, ashen-faced wreck appearing dutifully from the wings of late. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel, and providing that light isn't an oncoming train, I think I'm gonna' make it. It's been a long slog, and I am absolutely shattered, but it's also been a lot of fun. There have been many highlights. The great Australian cities of Melbourne, Sydney, Brisbane, Perth and Adelaide (yes, Adelaide) provided a strong backbone to an extensive regional tour all around Australia which saw me take in everywhere from the jumping university towns of Armidale to the sleepy retirement centres of Horsham (sorry Horsham). Along the way, I met many great people, and a few arseholes. The crowds were generally fantastic and, (with the exception of Coffs Harbour), extremely well-behaved. And now there are only a handful of shows back in regional Victoria when I get back there next week for it to all go belly up.

I would like to thank everyone who has been supportive on this tour, which means I would definitely NOT like to thank Telstra. Apparently if I use my phone anywhere outside of Melbourne's CBD, then I am technically classed as 'roaming' and start to incur the kind of charges that suggest I am not so much using my phone as putting itthrough a private education. Apparently the 'plan' I'm on does not support me moving around while I talk. I'm pretty sure when Alexander Graham Bell made that first call he didn't open with "now, before we go any further Mr. Watson, can I just ask you what plan you are on at the moment?" Nor, did he imagine that one day his landmark invention would result in giant call centres full of people who want to kill themselves on the phone to people who also want to kill them. Anyway, other than Telstra, I have had nothing but support and encouragement from the good people of Australia this past 4 months and I would like to thank you all. (I just won't be doing it by phone).

I head back to Edinburgh on the 3rd of June, where I'm hoping to have 12 days of rest before I head out to the Chicago, Toronto and Montreal festivals over June and July. It will be a short, but necessary stop back in my home city of Edinburgh. Heaven only knows what bills and sheriff's orders await? All I know is, for a full 12 days I will be able to sit in my flat and enjoy the fact that I don't need to pack a case, get on a plane or think of jokes (well, 2 out of 3's not bad). I have torn out a few interesting recipes from various magazines over the past 4 months, so maybe I will set to task on a few of them, although quite where I will find fresh kangaroo steak in Edinburgh is anyone's guess? I'm looking forward to seeing my nieces and nephews and opening with the obligatory "my, haven't you grown?" before being kicked in the shins and chased around the garden by a giant 16 year old. It's strange to think that because I've changed hemispheres, in the past 4 months I have jumped from winter to autumn, to winter and now soon to be in spring. But then, I've lived in Scotland most of my life, so it's not so unusual to miss out summers altogether.

The seasons have changed and so have I. With the end of every tour comes the hope that you are a better comedian, a little wiser, a bit more relaxed, and a little closer to finally settling down. Maybe all or none of these is true. All I know is, I'm down to my last clean T-shirt, but unfortunately it has a stencil of my face on it. My trousers are dirty and crumpled, but with the help of my trusty travel iron, the audience will never be able to tell the difference. And there are a few more grey hairs on my head, but nothing a cap with ginger bits sticking out the sides can't hide. I have no idea when I'll be back to this side of the world, but until then, thanks again. Stay safe. And keep laughing.

Danny

Last Sunday night in Melbourne was a landmark moment for me, because it was the first time since I arrived here in late January that I put a jumper on. It was 11.32pm exactly and I had to go outside and walk 2 blocks to the nearest store to get some milk. To be honest it was a borderline decision. I probably could have easily made it there and back in a t-shirt while experiencing at worst 'a slight chill', but the jumper went on, and instead I came back with 'a bit of a sweat'. Such trivialities probably bore you, but these are just a taste of the things which start to occupy my thoughts after 3 weeks of touring. Just wait until we get to week 24 (who knows? a jacket even?)

Most of Monday was spent washing the biggest pile of laundry since Rosemary West got a call from the police saying 'they were coming back to the house in a few hours because they forgot to check the shed.' By contrast to my humdrum day at the laundrette, Monday was Oscars Night in Hollywood. As I held up T-shirts and jeans which had depressingly shrunk in the fixed 'blast-furnace 3' setting of the tumble dryer, I glanced up at the TV, where 100's of celebrities adorned the famous red carpet in their exclusive designer robes.

I don't want to be a killjoy, but I would have thought in these tough economic times, it might have been an idea to skip the most needlessly ostentatious event on the planet. I don't imagine too many of the 1 million Americans who have recently lost their jobs would have been too concerned with who had a 'wardrobe nightmare' on the red carpet. "Sweet Jesus honey! Will you look at what Sarah Jessica Parker has done to her hair! Oh and we might have to eat the dog next week." Some people argue that such events are important to the morale of the nation in tough times (I'm sure the Tibetans were told the same thing about last year's Olympic Games.) I must admit I started to get a little mesmerised by the endless array of sparkling dresses and strapless tops, until I realised that this definitely wasn't my laundry. I apologised to the lady next to me as we swapped baskets and I sheepishly made my way to the exit. "And the bra as well please?" she said sternly as I was sneaking out the door.

Last week's shows in South Australia proved to me once again that very often in the most unlikely of places, you find the most perceptive and appreciative crowds. I remember driving into places like Renmark and Port Pririe and thinking 'Oh the humanity? how can this be?' But, the shows were packed full of the best crowds I've played to so far. I was quite worried about the new show a month ago, but it seems to have found its feet in the past few weeks and I'm really enjoying performing it now. There are no gimmicks or catchphrases in this show, it's just a few stories about my life in, and also away from comedy. I hope those of you who have seen it so far have enjoyed it. Special mention should go to the town of Whyalla where I picked up a local newspaper and read one of my favourite headlines of all time. It simply read "COMEDIAN COMES TO WHYALLA" That'll be me then.

Tonight I am in Wollongong, (or 'The Gong' as it's known locally). It's an attractive sort of beachside town, which can sometimes result in a frustrating lack of urgency (it took over half an hour to get a coffee this morning. I was the only one in the shop.) After the show last night I went into a Greek takeaway and asked if I could have the seafood pizza without the anchovies. The man behind the counter said that 'it came with anchovies.' I said "I was aware of that, but could he perhaps just not put them on?" A bead of sweat appeared on his forehead, his eyes shifted from side to side and he said he "would have to speak to his boss." His boss made the trip down several flights of stairs to get a handle on this whole 'anchovy affair'. He suspiciously looked me up and down and then told the man that "that was fine", and eventually the man began rolling the dough but he was clearly still a little fazed by this maverick order. Such events are the subject of much gossip in these regional towns, and today without a word of a lie, a woman came up to me in the street and said "I heard you caused a bit of a scene in the Greek place last night?" Hilarious.

The next 2 weeks are pretty hectic for me with back to back shows in regional NSW, with the exception of a show in Canberra on Saturday night which I am catching an early evening flight from Sydney to make in the nick of time. It will be very tight, and I apologise in advance to the good people of Canberra if I am a little flustered when I take to the stage, but just be thankful that I made it at all, because if that flight is delayed we're all screwed. I'm also doing a spot next Monday at the State Theatre Benefit in Sydney for victims of the bush fires. The line-up is stupidly good, and of course the cause is extremely worthy. Actually on that note, I should mention that I was touring regional Victoria the weekend of the worst bush fires, and I was absolutely terrified. I was very lucky to escape the worst hit areas (sometimes by a matter of hours) but over the next few days as the full extent of the devastation became apparent, I became aware of just how fortunate I was. The following week was a difficult week of shows to get through, and my thoughts and heartfelt sympathies remain with the victims of a region and country I have grown to love.

Goodbye for now.

Danny

And a very Happy New Year to you all. I realise that to some of you this seems a little belated, but to my Chinese readers my timing is impeccable. For as I'm sure you are all aware this weekend is the Chinese New Year, and I am here in Singapore (close enough) to celebrate it with all my oriental brothers and sisters. I am told that 2009 is the Year of The Ox, which signals a return to strong leadership and resilience (I wonder who that could be?) I can only assume by the same token, that the last 8 years have all been The Year of the Cock. Actually, last year was The Year of The Rat, which given the revelations in the financial world probably doesn't need a punchline.

I spent New Year in Edinburgh this year, where I saw in the bells alone in my own flat watching the fireworks fill the night sky above Edinburgh Castle. I remember when I was a young teenager I used to love New Year. Myself, and my mate Darren, would stumble up and down the packed Royal Mile in the rain snogging anyone that would let us. One year I counted 10 snogs! Darren (who was far more brazen than I) landed 14 snogs, but said he couldn't be sure they were all female, but he was pretty sure one was a policewoman, so double points?..Ah, to be young!) I cringe when I think back now to those carefree days of sexual liberation (as I'm sure those other 10 girls do), but swapping saliva with a cocktail of strangers in Edinburgh was very much the way New Year was done in my day. This New Year, the only tongue to venture into my mouth was from the likely contents of a chorizo sausage I bought back from Spain which I had to eat when I remembered all the shops were closed.

So here we are in 2009, and everyone is asking me what the year ahead holds for us. Well, I am no Nostradamus, but here are a few Danny Bhoy predications for this year:

January: Gordon Brown resigns as Prime Minister of Britain after he is found wandering around East Grinstead shopping centre in his underpants screaming at people to 'buy things!'

February: A bank in Scotland becomes the first bank in history to hold up it's customers at gunpoint and demand they empty their bank accounts. This sparks a string of similar hold ups around the country and in one day complete anarchy breaks out across Europe. After a 7-day war between 'The Suits' and 'The Non-Suits' a defining battle takes place in Belgium and The Suits narrowly take back the financial world.

March: Richard Branson is arbitrarily appointed by the Queen as Prime Minister of the newly-formed United Kingdom of Virgin. The economy is stabilised and the feel-good factor returns as everyone is required by law to travel to work in a hot air balloon.

April: Osama Bin Laden is discovered tied up in George Bush's shed in Texas. Apparently he had been there since shortly after 9/11. Bush attempts to flee the scene, but has accidentally locked himself in his own house, and is eventually arrested and charged with absolutely everything.

May: Prince Harry is caught on camera at a party in Cape Town dressed as a golliwog. He claims the photo was taken 'out of context', and it was 'just a bit of fun'. He is let off with a warning.

June: The world of celebrity officially overtakes the world of news in global importance. Celebrity reporters become the biggest group of employees in the UK, with a ratio of 2 reporters to 1 celebrity. After celebrities complain that undercover reporters are ruining their lives the government attempts to pass a bill declaring all celebrity reporters must be made visible at all times by dressing in a clown outfit. The opposition reject the bill claiming this would simply lead to a media circus. (classic)

July: In an unprecedented move by the opposing factions in the Middle East, it is decided that the Israeli-Palestinian conflict will be resolved by a giant game of Twister on the West Bank. Palestine wins, but American intervention manages to negotiate a 'best of 3' scenario, and Israel remains a state for now.

August: Prince Harry is photographed at a Ku Klux Klan meeting in Alabama dressed as a Grand Wizard. He tells reporters that it was' just a bit of fun.' That he 'has black friends' and that 'he didn't intend it to cause any offense.' He is let off with a warning.

September: Robert Mugabe is heavily defeated at the polls in Zimbabwe's general election and so begins his 4th term in office as President.

October: In a truly remarkable discovery Lionel Messi, Kaka and Ronaldo all discover they have Scottish ancestry, and feel the only right thing to do is to play for their mother country. The Scottish Football Association welcomes Messi and Kaka with open arms, but rejects Ronaldo's application.

November: The Apple Corporation bring out the new 1600G IBrain, a new brain which is lighter, more portable, and has more capacity than the regular human brain. It becomes the must-have Christmas present as thousands sign up, but customers are warned that in some rural areas their brains may not be able to pick up a signal until 2014. This has no effect on sales in Cornwall.

December: Jesus Christ makes a much anticipated return to Earth, but his comeback message of peace and goodwill is slightly overshadowed by the pragmatic social and economic results of Barrack Obama. Scotland draw at home to Iceland.

I will be starting my ridiculously long Australian tour on 31st January in Mount Gambier. Please check the website if you fancy coming along to one of the shows.

All the best for 2009 everyone,

Danny

I am in a place called Ottawa which I've just found out is the capital of Canada. (My apologies to the nation of Canada, but I genuinely thought it was Toronto). The huge parliament buildings which grace the city centre as I winged my way into the city this morning were my first clue. The second clue was a huge sign as we drove off from the airport saying "Welcome to Canada's capital city of Ottawa" I guess that's why I'm known as an observational comic. We are roughly halfway through this 4-week tour of Canada which has been hugely enjoyable. In one of the many highlights, yesterday I went to Niagara Falls which is only an hour long drive from Toronto, which is sooo not the capital of Canada.

Niagara Falls is only the second 'Wonder of The World' I can vouch to having visited in my life, the first being the great Taj Mahal in India. That was a slightly different experience as I was only 11 at the time and distinctly remember being annoyed that I had to get on a tour bus and leave the hotel pool to go see some stupid marble palace. In fact I remember spending much of the day playing Donkey Kong on an old portable Nintendo while a tour guide bleated on about 'the greatest architectural masterpiece in the World' blah, blah, blah. 'The Taj Mahal was built on 4 levels.' Big wow! Donkey Kong had 8! I remember being similarly unresponsive when being dragged along to see the Mona Lisa in the Louvre in Paris when I was 13, the difference being I was still underwhelmed when I visited it again last month. But when I found out we were going to visit the Niagara Falls yesterday, I was genuinely excited. Heck, I didn't even pack my playstation.

We were told by the less than enthusiastic tour guide that 1.4 million litres of water gush over Niagara Falls every single minute which is enough to fill 150,000 baths (or something like that, I don't know I was busy playing Mario Kart). The guide also told us that Niagara Falls is one of the most popular places in Canada for Honeymooners to come, to which I remarked they should maybe rename it 'Viagra Falls', a joke which seemed completely lost on the 15 Japanese tourists also on the tour, or they just didn't find it funny....Nah, that's ridiculous, they just didn't get it. My only complaint of the trip was the town of Niagara Falls itself, which has clearly been built solely, and soullessly, with the hoards of annual tourists in mind. I don't think you should be allowed to build any commercial building within 5 miles of a place of natural beauty, it just doesn't seem right. It's something you see all too often in North America, but thankfully not in other parts of the World. While there's definitely a prime market for a food stop after a strenuous hike up a hill, it's probably not a good idea to stick a McDonalds on top of Ayres Rock. Any more than it would be appropriate to erect a Beefeater restaurant on Robben Island, or a Starbucks in Guantanamo Bay (sadly that last one is true!)

When we got back to base still in our dripping plastic yellow bibs, resembling a team of shit marine scientists, I felt strangely morose. As with all great natural wonders, they leave you with an overriding sense of the insignificance of the present. The notion that this great structure of wondrous beauty has predated your existence by several thousands of years, and will outdate it by several thousand more really puts the achievements of the last winner of the X Factor into perspective. I'm reading Barrack Obama's 'Audacity of Hope' at the moment. I am determined to finish it before Election Day. He describes his early days as a budding senator as consisting of long lonely drives across Illinois with map in hand, stopping in on any group of people who were willing to hear him talk. I couldn't help but think of my early days in stand up which were pretty much the same. Yip, me and Obama, we knew what it was like! Of course, as I rattled through the chapters, I realised that this was the only thing we had in common. Yesterday, I watched him live on TV at a rally in Cleveland giving one of his typical dynamic speeches. As the rain started to fall quite heavily, he started to get some really bad feedback on his microphone. He stopped talking and tapped the mic 3 times, and it worked perfectly again. God, I love this guy! Do you have any idea how many times I've tried that, and just got worse feedback?

One of the overwhelming feelings of the book is of a man who simply hasn't wasted a day of his life. After a flawless academic record, and 12 years as a civil rights lawyer and community organiser, he audaciously went after a position in the United States Senate at a time when the man who had the most contacts and money almost always got the job. And he was black. Well, he still is. It made me think I should really use my time on the road more productively, rather than trying to make rude words out of the car in front's licence plate. Obama seems to be a man who has devoted the first part of his life to learning and the second part of his life to public service, and I think that is one of the most commendable traits in a person. Obama won't outlive the great rock of Niagara Falls, but with any luck he will be the next president to be carved into one.

Tomorrow we are off to Winnipeg, which like so many nice sounding places is apparently a bit shit (I give you 'Easterhouse', 'Castlemilk' or 'Red Deer'). We are there for the next 2 days, which means I will be holed up in some hotel room with no phone reception awaiting the results coming in. In many ways, it's the perfect way to see out the last day of a Bush administration. What better place to revel in the impending message of hope, than a cold, flat wasteland in the centre of Canada. "Anyway, hello Winnipeg! ...Is this on?" After that, we have another 10 or so dates on the tour, which will end in Victoria, I believe. Then I fly straight to Las Vegas for the Las Vegas Comedy Festival. Yip, from the icy cold, windswept prairies of Canada to the bright lights and razzmatazz of Vegas...I feel like I'm on a campaign trail of my own sometimes. Of course, I should say, there are no guarantees in life; there is always the possibility of a McCain victory on Tuesday. If that was the case, then I shall be cancelling my trip to Vegas in 2 weeks time as I will never be able to look at another American again.

Yes We Can.

Danny.

People often ask me what I do when I have a few days off from stand up? The answer (at least today) is that I jump on an early morning train from Edinburgh to London where I catch a connecting commuter train to Crystal Palace just in time to make a game of football with some of my fellow comedians which happens every Tuesday at 2pm. It’s madness, I know. But it’s quite simply the most enjoyable thing in my life, and why let the slight inconvenience of a 788 mile round trip get in the way of that. The thing is, I’m not very good at football, but then it’s not really about the football. It’s a really good work out especially after a month of excess in Edinburgh, but it’s not really about the exercise either. It’s about the people and the banter.

If you want a more serious indication of how much some of us love this weekly tradition consider the fact that I lived in London for 2 years longer than I could bear, just so I could be around for those Tuesday games. I wasn’t even doing gigs for most of that time, just ambling through the void that ran from roughly 5pm on Tuesday through to 2pm the following Tuesday. They were tough times, sometimes I was the last person to leave Crystal Palace Sports Centre, dropping off the pump at reception on my way out, and you could see the sadness in my eyes knowing it was all over for another week.

Very few things have stood in the way of those games. “I’m very sorry Mr. Plowman, but if Tuesday is the only day you can do, then I’m afraid you’ll have to stick your 3 year tie-up deal with the BBC up your arse!” My friend Daniel, a similar fanatic, once got a limo back from a gig in Hull at considerable expense, just to make the game. And indeed, both of us have been know to change long haul international flights so we could make it back in time for kick off, sometimes turning up at the game jetlagged with suitcase in hand. And it’s been worth it every time. Even when the games haven’t been that good, it’s still just enormously good fun.

It’s also a great leveller. There are few arenas left in the world of stand up now where profile and egos don’t result in someone, or someone’s agent attempting to pull rank. There is no room for that kind of bullshit at Tuesday football. This does mean we have lost most of our big names down the years, but if you ask me that has only added to the general camaraderie. I am confident that if Chris Rock called up Andy and asked him if he would be able to move the game to 1pm, so he could make his flight back to LA, he would be given a firm ‘no’, and would probably get a bit of an earful for even suggesting it. “Tough shit Rock, we run a very tight ship.” If Robin Williams turned up late, then tried to avoid his turn in nets, he simply wouldn’t get the call the following week. If Seinfeld repeatedly tried to leave early to avoid shelling out the £3 administration fee collected at the end, he would be forced to take home the bibs and wash them. If John Oliver missed a sitter in front of an open goal, he too would have to wear the shamed red jersey as punishment for the rest of the match, just like everybody else.

The world of stand up had changed a lot in the past 8 years, but despite a few new faces, Tuesday afternoon football has pretty much stayed the same. There is a group of about 8 of us, who are still regulars from the very beginning, and probably another 15 or so, that come and go when they can. I’m probably more in the latter category now, but I surely still hold the record for most miles travelled in a single year to get there (or biggest carbon footprint per goal, depending on how you look at it?) There are many irregularities in the life of a touring comedian. Perhaps I am destined to live my life in the ephemeral world of the hapless troubadour. A world where personal relationships suffer, reality is slightly skewered and stability is an almost laughable concept. There are times when I stand behind that dusty red velvet curtain in another theatre in another town waiting to be announced on stage, listening to the low hum of people chatting to one another, and I do wonder ‘what the hell am I doing here?’ Then I remember that sweet cross I floated in from the right last Tuesday which Lee volleyed home with aplomb. And I remember that the next Tuesday I have off, I’m only ever a tube, a car journey, a train journey, a flight, or sometimes all of those things away from that one constant in my life. God Bless Tuesday afternoon football.

Danny Bhoy.

To millions of people around the globe, tomorrow sees the start of the 25th Games of the Olympiad in Beijing, but to a considerably smaller group of people tomorrow marks the opening of the 10th anniversary of the Comedy of Danny Bhoy in East Lothian. I’m sure when the Olympic Committee discovered their big opening clashed with such a momentous event on the other side of world they were kicking themselves (which incidentally I’ve always thought should be an event). In fact, there is an argument that stand up comedy requires similar skills to that of our top Olympic athletes. I may not be very good at throwing an object for distance, but I’m not too bad at dodging them. And trying to keep one’s focus and balance while attempting to get through a complicated routine almost perfectly describes my last gig in Port Hedland, Australia. Perhaps one day, falling into an orchestra pit will be an Olympic event, in which case I’ve got the gold in the bag!

That said, I am hoping it should be a good show. As previously mentioned I have a nice little surprise for people at the start of the show, a little project I have been working on the past few months, which I am very pleased with. I am currently staring out of my window at the second consecutive day of heavy rain in Edinburgh. If there is a God, it seems he hasn’t been impressed by any shows he’s seen at the festival so far this year, but the forecast is for brighter spells tomorrow...around 7.15pm (do you see what I did there?) Anyway, I hope any of you visiting Edinburgh this month have a swell time. If you are going to see a few shows at the Fringe, my advice would be avoid any shows that list awards you’ve never heard of, or even ones you have heard of. And don’t be sucked in by how many star ratings there are on a poster, any more than you would be sucked in by how many pound signs there are on a ‘how would you like to be rich?’ advert. Try to go and see some of the smaller comedy shows, outside of the big 4 venues. They can be so much more rewarding, and after all, that’s really what the ‘fringe’ is all about. What I’m saying is, if the Fringe was the Olympics, don’t just watch the track and field events. Anyone for ping pong?

Cheers,
Danny

I am back in London after a week long mini tour of Ireland where I played some delightful little venues up and down the country. Ireland is the ultimate ‘wind down’ country. There really does seem to be nothing there that requires immediate attention. I was asked by the front of house manager in Sligo if I had a policy on latecomers? I said I didn’t mind if people drifted in after the start of the show. “Thank god!” she said “otherwise the show would be completely empty!” I was travelling round with top Australian comic Adam Hills, who had a week of holiday planned after Kilkenny, but like all comics started to itchy feet…well, foot. We started in Ballybofey up in the North of Ireland, and then did shows in Roscommon, Carrick On Shannon, Galway, Sligo and Cork. I was, of course, concentrating hard on my forthcoming Edinburgh show..so much so, that I nearly missed an easy 3 foot putt on the 15th at Strandhill. It was a brilliant week. One of the highlights for me was the gig in Roscommon where I conducted a mock Communion with some audience members including a prominent local Member of Parliament. Allow me to explain...

Adam walked back on stage and explained what he had promised the audience, and that he had completely forgotten to put the order in. ‘That’s all very well Adam’, I thought to myself, but we are now faced with a hungry, and pretty angry Irish crowd, and as history has told us, this is absolutely the worst kind of Irish people to confront. Adam then dashed back stage to see if he could still order the pizzas, while I was left floundering around on stage. Eventually he returned with the news that the pizza delivery place was closed, and so instead he had bought 30 packets of Pringles from the local shop. That’s right, Adam Hills decided to mock the good people of Ireland not only by not delivering the food he promised, but by trying to buy them off with a few flavoured…POTATOES! And to think, all night I had skilfully managed to skip around doing one of my most famous catchphrases?

Ok, so how else can we offend these people, you may be asking yourself? Well, how about feeding an audience member on stage, by getting them to kneel down in front of me and accept the crisp in the mouth after a dodgy blessing from Father Bhoy. This really could have ended up in the headline “Comedians Burned Alive As Locals Fail To See The Funny Side” (which incidentally is an actual headline from the Baghdad Post), but fortunately the chosen audience member was a seemingly unpopular local MP, and the audience seemed far more accepting of open blasphemy when it was at the expense of ridiculing a politician. The whole thing was recorded and I’m rather concerned it may end up on YouTube.

Anyway, I am back in London now, where I will be for the next few weeks in the lead up to the Edinburgh fringe. I must be one of the few comedians in the world who in the month of August actually gets to spend some time at home. I guess I should take this opportunity to give the new show a plug. I am told after a box office catastrophe, that tickets are now finally on sale, so if you are in Edinburgh and want to see the fruits of my labour, then I will be appearing at the EICC from the 8-19 of August.

All the best,

Danny

And welcome to my first April blog of 2008. It seems like months since I last sent a few paragraphs about my life out there into cyberspace, hoping that someone somewhere reads them with mild interest. I’m still here in my flat in Edinburgh which hasn’t changed much since my last blog. Oh, actually, I bought a chest of drawers yesterday from a local charity shop which now stands proudly in my bedroom supporting a flatscreen TV. The charity shop had neglected to clear out all the items belonging to the previous owner from the drawers, which means I am now the owner of a pair of legwarmers, a nearly full pack of cards, a French textbook and a black and white photograph of a child standing next to a circus elephant. It’s understandable that the charity shop probably thought such items were not really sellable as individual pieces, but to smuggle them into my chest was a little underhand. Shame on you Dr. Barnardo.

It made me think what 4 items I would leave behind in a chest of drawers that would best reflect my life? I reckon a mechanical pencil, because I only every write with them. A blue denim hoodie I bought in Boston nearly 15 years ago, which has survived all my changes in fashion over that time, and remarkably still gets the occasional outing. A DVD of Alan Partridge, which is for me the funniest show ever to appear on TV. And a faded yellowy listing from a copy of London Time Out in 1999, that I’ve kept because it was the first time I was ever listed as a comic. Ok, so they spelt my name wrong, I was listed as ‘Danny Buoy’ but still, it was just the most exciting thing to see my name appear in the comedy section for the first time. Such things are of no use to anybody except me, but surely that’s the point? If I left anything valuable in a chest of drawers it would almost certainly make its way into the hands of someone who owned it for that reason. If someone in 50 years time found my 4 items in a chest of drawers I hope that they would only keep the listing, that’s the important one. Just like this blog so far, is really of no interest to anyone, but it doesn’t stop me hoping that someday, somewhere, someone will find it and read it again. Maybe you?

I am currently working on my new show, which is taking me through the usual aches and pains of trying to come up with fresh and original material. This will be my 8th visit to the Edinburgh festival, which impresses and depresses me in equal measure. I will be doing lots of warm up gigs and shows in London throughout June and July which I usually enjoy more than the finished show itself. That said, come along! Tickets are on sale as we speak. Other than that, there isn’t much more to report. I joined a gym last week which made me feel a bit fitter, in the same way that when you buy an intellectual book ,(that you know you’ll never read), you feel a bit cleverer. I bought Steven Hawking’s ‘Brief History of Time’ a little while ago, and as I left the bookshop I felt I was already half way to understanding the universe. I have actually been to the gym twice already, so hopefully if this work rate continues, by the time Edinburgh comes around, you’ll barely recognise the well-buffed Adonis that walks out on to that stage….to introduce me.

I didn’t realise just how unfit I was until I took to the rowing machine for the first time and barely managed 10 strokes! Mind you, that little dwarf sitting at the front shouting at me didn’t help much? I had a little more success on the bicycle machine managing to complete a 5km circuit …which wasn’t easy with all those other fitness machines in the way. Anyway, they do say ‘healthy body, healthy mind’, (although I’m not sure Steven Hawking would necessarily agree with that?) So I intend to see this through for the next few months at least. I’m even going to take a gentle jog to the post office right now. I’m mailing my little nephew a French textbook. It’s a bit dated, but I don’t think the French language has changed much since the time it was published. I’ve thrown out the pack of cards, but the black and white photo is staying in the chest of drawers. It might mean nothing to me, but it means something to someone, and that’s a good enough reason to keep it. Right, I’m off. It looks a bit frosty outside, if only I had some kind of additional leg heat?

See you,

Danny.

It’s the end of my tour of Western Australia which started on the 5th of February in Perth. It has been another amazing if slightly draining tour. As one woman said to me at the last show “Danny, you’re looking tired.” We have covered another three and half thousand miles by car, and god knows how much by air to visit as far north as Karratha, as far East as Alice Springs and as far south as Esperance. The tour has taken us from the hedonistic nightlife of Kalgoorlie to the gentle rolling vineyards of Margaret River. (From Skimpys to wrinklies). There are places I would have liked to have stayed longer and places were one night was too long, but everywhere I went I got some truly fantastic audiences, so thank you.

In my final show of the tour last Thursday I was in a small, boutique theatre in Albany. It was easily the toughest gig of the tour. The theatre was quite small and had no air-conditioning. As the room got more and more humid, I felt the audience starting to mentally drift away, but to their credit no one had dared to get up by the one hour mark. Then a ‘Rosa Parks’ moment, when one woman right in the middle of the theatre defiantly rose to her feet and made her way to the exit. It was a very tense moment. If I didn’t handle this sensitively, it could be the start of a mass exodus. But, in one of the most remarkable moments I’ve ever had on stage, the woman calmly walked up the front of the stage, and said to me “I’m really sorry Danny, but it’s just too hot. You look tired, you should go to bed.” There’s really no reply to that. She was polite, she was honest, and most important of all, she was totally right. I did a bit more, and finished the show on more of a poignant than funny moment. I commended the audience for their patience, in the same way you commend a child for being good in church, and that was that. I had so looked forward to the end of this tour, but truth be told, it was all a little emotional. I sat backstage for some time afterwards, listening to the theatre slowly empty while twiddling with my lapel mic in front of the brightly lit dressing room mirrors. That woman was right, I was looking tired.

I’m over in Melbourne now, where I’m planning to spend a couple of weeks catching up with a few friends (well, one friend). After that, I will be heading home to the UK to start work on the Edinburgh show, I’ve got quite an exciting beginning to the show planned, but it will depend entirely on the logistics of the venue. It doesn’t look like I’m doing shows in South Africa in April anymore, apparently some guy called Chris Rock, has decided to do some shows around the same time, and the promoter doesn’t think it’s a good idea to have us both. (Too similar, I guess!) So it looks like I’ve got the next few months back home in Edinburgh, which is probably not a bad thing. I’ve got a horrible feeling my residents parking permit in Edinburgh has expired which means my car will almost certainly be rusting away in a car pound in Leith. It should be spring when I get back, which is my favourite time of year. I can’t wait to take that first walk down my street, and breathe in the almost menthol air of freshly cut grass, while gazing jealously at the first signs of regrowth on the giant willows that protect the posher gardens at the far end. J K Rowling lives on my street; did I ever tell you that? I thought it might be quite funny one day to dress up as Gandalf and just stand in her front garden, I don’t know why?

I have a few exciting things on the cards this year such as a run in Canada and a UK and Ireland tour (including the Mecca that is The Edinburgh Fringe.) In addition, I have begun writing a book, well more of a diary really. I started it at the beginning of this tour, and surprised myself at the fact it’s still going. I’m planning to keep it for the next 6 months to provide people with an amusing and hopefully interesting insight into the life of a stand up comedian. Later in the year, I will take it to a publishing house and see if they like it? If not, then it will be the longest blog you ever read! (Or didn’t read). Anyway, that’s really it for now. Thank you again to all of you who came out to a show in WA. I’m not planning anymore shows in Australia this year, but I’ll definitely be back in 2009. Chris Rock, or no Chris Rock.

Cheers,

Danny

Anyway, I’m looking forward to heading out to Australia this Friday. So much to do, I have no idea where to begin, but I think putting on some pants might be a start (I’ve only got 3 minutes of credit left on this computer anyway.) I will hopefully be announcing some Edinburgh Festival and UK tour dates very soon, so keep checking back on the website, as you know those Hull Truck Theatre tickets go like hot cakes (in a room full of diabetics with heat-sensitive gums). There may also be some South Africa and Canada gigs this year, but still awaiting confirmation on both of those. I’ve just realised that this will be the first time I will be returning to Australia officially as an Australian resident. How exciting? I better learn my Koalas from my Kookaburras…you don’t want to cook up the wrong one for Thanksgiving. And god forbid I get the words to your national anthem wrong on Australia Day next month. I better start practicing now. Once a jolly swagman camped by a Billabong……

All the Best,

Danny Bhoy

p.s. I know, I know. Happy Australia Day!

I trust you are all enjoying your festive season. For those of you reading this in Australia/New Zealand, you ought to know that last night the temperature in Edinburgh dropped to -8. If you’re not sure what that feels like, put your hand in the freezer for 5 minutes, then rub that hand all over your body (don’t do it to someone else without their expressed permission).

“Well, that’s nice Danny. That means you can have a proper break.” You’d be wrong again. Being the helpless comedy junkie I am, I have decided to use this time to do the dates in Western Australia I wasn’t able to fit in on this year’s tour. So, I’m now coming back to Australia in February, not January, to do the shows I said I wasn’t going to do until next year, because I’m not sure if I’m going to be free to do them next year. Keep up! Will you?

At the moment, it’s only 17 dates, including 2 in Perth, but there may be a few more added, we’ll just have to wait and see. It’s obviously very short notice for these shows, so it might turn out to be a complete disaster numbers-wise, but what the heck! We’ll just have fun! Anyway, the dates have just been put on sale, so if you live in WA, and you’d like to come along to a show, I’d be delighted to see you there. Details of the new dates are now up on my website and my myspace page.

Finally, I’d like to thank everyone who came along to one of my shows this year wherever in the world it was. I have had some of the best gigs of my life, and a good few adventures off stage. I hope we get to do it all again sometime….

I wish you all a very Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year.

Danny Bhoy.