Will he, won't he?

Mark Watson's Over Ambitious 24 Hour Comedy Show was supposed to start at 11.55pm on Sunday night, but an administrative error meant that it didn't start for a little while after that. And due to the same kind of administrative error 24 hours later, it finally came to a close at 12.19am on Tuesday morning. We had originally decided to join in the spirit of the thing, popping in every now and again to see how it was all going, and leaving again to get on with our daily Edinburgh routine. It didn't quite work out that way.

We stayed in the end for 16 hours. At 3am, we took what we thought was a wise decision to leave to get some sleep. After Mark had allocated to us our Audience Member Numbers (I was 40, Susan was 39) we left before the sleepover games began, when there were still over 100 people in the room. This, in retrospect, wasn't the best of timing, because we missed the first appearance of Stewart Lee, the first game of Chinese Whispers (used when Mark has to go to the toilet to fill up the time) and the first chapter in the ongoing saga of Dara O'Briain.

But I'm quite glad we left. When we returned just before 11am the next day, most people - although not Mark - were looking like horrible ragged shells of their former selves. Rubbish was strewn all around the room, people were propped up on beanbags, there were sleeping bags and pillows on stage, someone was sleeping, most people were handing around sausages and croissants and there did seem to be an unusual amount of orange juice in the room. And, ladies and gents, I don't mind telling you - the room smelt of sleep, farts and people sweat. Not a good smell to walk in to.

For the daylight hours, we were transferred to a smaller room so that other shows could take place during the day, but the cult of Watson had taken over a lot of people by that point - us included - and we decided at about 11.30am that we weren't going to leave again until the bitter end.

I'm so damn glad that we didn't.

I was still recovering from my current battle with Festival Flu, and on Sunday evening it did seem to be leaving me. My only words of advice to anyone suffering from a drink and lack-of-sleep induced illness would be that attending a 15 hour comedy event probably isn't the best way to get better. I'm back to square one again in terms of illness, but lordy by god it was worth it.

The show managed to make a soap opera and drama and tragedy and comedy out of every situation that it came across. A group of about 15 audience members stayed for the full duration of 24 hours, and were given the title of Platinum Lifers (and also some transfer tattoos of dolphins, although I can't remember why). Others like us who were there for a ridiculously long amount of time were called merely Lifers. I could probably name each and every person involved in the show now, and indeed, we spotted a few in audiences today, with all of us sharing a special smile of recognition when we caught the other's eye.

A harmless game of Blind Date, played at about 4.30am, turned in to a beautiful story of doomed romance and complicated love triangles, played out between Platinum Lifer Amy, interloper Lilly and Admin Expert Tim. Dara O'Briain's appearance at 5am, drunken and biligerent, became a talking point for the rest of the show, casting him in the role of the villain, and setting up a brilliant Western style show down in the last half hour of the show. Even organising something like pizza at dinner time took over an hour and a half to get under control, and then we all paid far too much and ended up donating the money to another performer whose show we all interrupted for free. Problems with the management of the venue we were all trapped in for so long even became a running storyline, and had us gripped continually with the suspense that at any moment the show could be stopped, we could all be thrown out, and all the hours put in would be in vain.

Every time we got to 5 past an hour, there would be a muted celebration, muted simply because we would all start to work out in our heads how long was left to go, and despite Mark’s continuous and never failing chirpiness, he could never quite convince us that 9 hours weren’t really that long to go. It was really astonishing how wonderfully well he coped, in the face of constant media interruption – Newsnight Review came in, do watch it on Friday, I’m wearing green and Susan is beside me, you’ll not miss it. Even when he developed cramps in his feet from standing up for so long he never once stopped chatting or egging everyone on, or talking about what was coming up next or what had happened before.

The biggest story however was the beautiful relationship between Mark and his girlfriend Emily. The fact that he proposed in the last minute of the 24 hour show has been the main headline for most of the coverage of the event, but it really wasn't as twee, saccharine or even premeditated as the coverage makes it sound.

In the first hour of the show, Mark mentioned that he was considering proposing to his girlfriend during the show (this was while she was out of the room, obviously) but immediately qualified this statement with the fact that he didn't think he was likely to do it. From then on, whenever she left the room to attend to various admin or party popper buying matters, he would turn to the audience and mutter "Will he, won't he?" and then carry on. If the subject was ever broach, every audience member would be staring at the door trying to make out her sillohette and if she went by, we'd all "shhhh" and move on to more general topics. It was fabulous. By the time the proposal came, it was amazing that she didn’t know anything about it, but I really don’t think she did, and we all burst in to tears about the same time that she did.

We’ve already both decided that out of all the shows that we’ve seen since coming to the Festival every year since 1997, this is truly the best experience of the Fringe. The best, and truly the most exhausting. I take my hat off to the Platinum Lifers who stayed there for the full 24. We celebrated coming to the end of this comedy marathon by staying out in Brooks Bar and not going to bed until 6.30am. Really, though, it was the only appropriate thing to do.

A short article on the show can be found here on the BBC news site. I don’t have the time or energy right now to find any more, but please leave me links to it in the comments section if you get the chance. Thanks.

Who is Mark Watson?

WHO ISN'T MARK WATSON!!!

What a fantastic 15.5 hours we spent in the company of Mark and a whole host of other characters in what turned out to be a rollercoaster of emotions, bonding and pizza.

Our heads are very fuzzy so we will let our brains process the events of August 23td and then tell you all.

I saw a bare lady once...

We were just about to leave the Brooks bar and wend our weary ways home, because it's been a long day and we've seen a lot of mediocre shows. We've even been involved in a fire scare, where the GB was evacuated due to a ghost fire, and we had to leave the lovely Sml Med Lrg show. Luckily, the show continued outside in Bristo Square, so we didn't miss out on much.

But I digress. We were just about to leave the Brooks bar and go home, because we're ever so tired and need some lie down sleepy time. As we prepared our exit, Mr Paul from The Trap came over and dragged us to the Spiegeltent, because he promised there'd be some funny music, some dancing, and some Moulin Rouge type action. We immediately thought of boys that look like Euan McGregor, and agreed to accompany him.

When we got there - and this is the bit where people under 18 should immediately look away - we were confronted with a lovely lady wearing a large fur coat and hat, swaying to the song Light My Fire. She lit a fag, threw off her hat, then threw off her coat, and revealed nothing more than quite the skimpy bikini. It didn't stop there.

Really, if you're our parents, look away now.

She then used the cigarette to burn off her bikini top. First one lady bump was revealed, then the other. This Mr Paul found quite entertaining. She then moved down to her downstairs area, and burned off the front bottom bit to reveal her... well, her front bottom.

But. It didn't stop there.

She was still holding the lit cigarette, beaming out at the audience while she was in her altogether. She then... em... well, she... she put the lit cigarette... into... her... ahem.

Right into her ahem, ladies and gentlemen.

Mr Paul started to text everyone he knew.

We had to leave. Laughing.

Why does it always rain on me?

So far today we have wandered over to the GB Teviot to sort out tickets for the next few days and have been rained on. As we were on our way, crossing the pedestrian crossing near the car park, we were beeped at. Sharon checked to see if it was someone we knew and said it wasn't so we put it down to us looking particularly sexy today but the car turned the corner onto the street we were walking down and beeped again. This turn Susan took a look as her powers of recognition are second to none and we were thrilled to see it was none other than Alfie Joey in a shiny new red car. Susan quickly pointed out that she still has her Mini-Cabaret key ring on her bag from last year and we all arranged to meet up later today. So that's great news. We were also planning to see Stickmen today but on arrival at the Pod Deco it soon became evident that there were no shows whatsoever on today. So we are back home doing some admin and sorting ourselves out for the next week in an attempt to hit the 100 shows mark this year.

Having a cup of tea and a sit down before the enslaught of shows starts again...

2-0

On a further point, we have just returned from our spiritual home, the Brookes Bar, having played the second round in the continuing Comedy Lounge Pool Tournament. Regular readers will remember that, when we played The Trap, Susan and Dan beat Sharon and Paul.

This second round was undertaken with the stars of Every Body Talks, Alex Horne and Tim Key. We were matched equally in the pairings of Sharon and Tim, with Susan and Alex.

We are sad to report that Sharon is now 2-0 down in the Comedy Lounge Pool Tournament, having been beaten at the very last moment with some deft pool moves from the Key/Turnbull team.

If anyone is half decent at playing this damned game, please apply to icanhelpsharonwin@comedylounge.co.uk and we can arrange a rematch. Many thanks.

Jesus Wept

Earlier today (although now technically yesterday), we hosted The Mums for a Late Lunch. They were kind enough to review it on their site, but we've been kind enough to reproduce it, word for word, here.

Lunch At The Lounge
Near the Pleasance Courtyard, 16:30.



Myself and my companion arrived at the venue unsure of what to expect. We both had a light sweat on and had been making ribald conversation about sausages. The performers had previously proved themselves to be excellent (though eccentric) company, however their culinary skills were, to us, a dark unexplored country promising the potential for pain and embarrassment (like Slovakia). How wrong we were proved to be. From being greeted at the door by the supremely fragrant Sharon to the very end (and the end is very...) it was a triumph of taste, skill and, I am sad to say, decency.

The sexual tension on our entry was electric, however soon enough the appliance was switched off and the serious business of eating began. The meal kicked off with a great many well laid out Doritos and Tortilla Chips. These we tucked into with Great Gusto. Unfortunately he was to leave shortly after, his conjuring act beginning, as it does, at five o’clock. The starter consisted of some white stuff with avocado and tomato (sourced from Poland). I genuinely have no idea what the hell it was but I pronounce it "superb". My companion suggested goats cheese, but then he has always had an odd odour about him.

The main course, God be praised, featured sausages. Toad in the hole at this point. The main course was also excellent. It was accompanied by a spicy rice affair and sweetcorn done to a turn. Onion gravy provided a note of both onions and gravy, and I can think of no greater praise.

Dessert was no mere trifle. It was a triumph of the trifling arts. It was, and I use this word advisedly, a mouthgasm.

Throughout the hostessing was of the highest possible order. Offers of marriage were renewed and not before time, a hot tumble ensued, this seemed, for once, to facilitate the drying of trousers.

In short: Breathtaking. In long: We were left short of breath. We cannot iterate quite how strongly we advise you to turn up at their house AT ANY TIME OF DAY OR NIGHT and demand food, access to the spin dryer and chat. Simply apply to wewantobothercomedylounge@nicemum.com for the full address.

You having a good time?

In keeping with our current successful trend of only seeing a couple of shows a day, today we reached a new height by NOT SEEING ANY AT ALL for no particular reason other than we haven't booked any tickets and couldn't face leaving the flat or buying tickets or seeing shows, and quite frankly if breathing wasn't automatic we'd've probably stopped that too.

But instead of going out and having fun, we decided to invite fun around for a late lunch. Unfortunately, fun was having the day off today, so we had the (schoolgirl's favourites) niCe mUm boys around instead. Susan cooked up a veritable storm in the kitchen, while Sharon ran around the flat in a panic, shoving things in to cupboards and corners in an attempt to make it look like she was domesticated. For those of you not keeping up, Sharon is on a promise to be married to the Dave one from the niCe mUms, and she didn't want to ruin her chances at this late stage, seeing as how she's not getting any younger, and someone yesterday told her she looked "around 25" which made her cry for an hour or so.

Fortunately, the boys were fooled, and Susan's chefing triumphed, and it was a very successful foray in to Comedy Lounge entertaining. We also ate fresh food for the first time in 2 weeks. The world is looking up once more.

From tomorrow it's back to business as usual, with five shows a day planned for the next five days. We're already feeling a little queer.

You Love It!

Oops. We've missed some days. This is due to the slow group nervous breakdown that we, and everyone else involved in the Festival, are experiencing now that the first full week is nearing a close. It's at this point that you feel that you've gone really far, but then you have a look at the calender and realise that you're not allowed to go home until September, and every day drags out in front of you, and then you want to curl up in to a ball and cry, because it's not possible to even consider sitting in another dark room while people say things to you wearing a variety of costumes and using some props. But then you go along to the niCe mUm show, and you feel better again.

Today is a good day. Today, and indeed yesterday, we are only seeing one or two shows. The days where you only see one or two shows are the days when your brain starts working again, you can think about things in terms other than star ratings, and you don't have to be nice to people whose shows you've just seen, which were actually a bit rubbish but you don't want to say.

So we've spent the best part of the last two weeks drinking, watching shows, laughing hysterically (quite often in the wrong places) and drinking. It's actually becoming difficult to be awake and still sober now. Somehow it seems wrong to be conscious in day light hours and not have a pint of something in your hand. We walk in to our favourite bar and the blonde barmaid starts immediately pouring our drink of choice. Honestly. I'm not kidding about that. That actually happens.

The lovely Joanne left yesterday, having braved out almost a week and many challenges and rites of passage to officially become, in the words of Dave Mum, a "lovely lounger". We're pleased to declare that she has, having seen over 20 shows in the time she was here, run herself into the ground in terms of debt and liver damage, and still left with a smile and skip in her step. We're all very proud to call her one of us, and look forward to hearing how she gets on in the real world.

Check out the reviews section, now updated with actual reviews and star ratings. And if you see us anywhere at any time, please do come up and say hello, with a Tennents Top for each of us, and we'll be your best friends forever.

Day Five: Who The Hell Are You?

Today God showed His disdain for the Edinburgh Festival by not only flooding Edinburgh in a seriously close reenactment with his old Noah and Ark shtick, but also flooding most of Scotland besides. This of course inconvenienced us greatly, and we had to spend a good deal of the day standing under shelters in the Pleasance courtyard, not able to move. We whiled away the hour or so that we were stuck by trying to work out which one out of Laurence and Gus was Laurence, and which one was Gus. Adrian Poynton was kind enough to let us know, information Sharon almost immediately forgot again.

Today we strayed from the path of Comedy and went down the winding road that is Theatre, or as we've been pronouncing it, "Theeeetahr". First we went to see the lovely Ben Moor's play Black Cocktail which was fantatic, and really not like anything he's ever done before. It's excellent, and I'd like to go back to see it again before the run is over. We also caught Adrian Poynton's play Success, which is also great. Watch out for the special guest appearance by the actor Tom Price, looking spectacularly similar to Dougie Howser MD.

We're off to see Nancy Cartwright talk in a stupid voice for an hour in the Assembly Rooms, and tonight Joanne aka Mrs Bishop is arriving from Dublin to join the CL family. Let the games begin.

Day Four: Dump Me Dump Me Dump Me DUMP ME

Today we did something we've been talking about doing for a while in our Festival attending life: we stayed in the same room in the same venue all day, in order to jam in as many shows as possible. This proved to be both a very effective way of covering a lot of ground, and a truly fool hardy way to spend the day, as we saw seven shows today - more than most people see in a week, and certainly the most we've ever seen together.

Today we chose the Pleasance Hut, because it seemed to have the best run of shows between 2.35pm and 10pm. We were mostly right, with two hideous exceptions. These will be appearing in the review section, possibly tomorrow, so come on back. Our one regret today was not bringing any food with us, because it's difficult to find time in the 10 minutes you get in between shows to walk about and loosen up as well as queue for food while the weekend Festival crowds have gathered. Plus the Pleasance seems to have forgotten the existence of vegetarians, which is frustrating to say the least.

Tomorrow we'll be doing it again, but only five shows and with a nice big break in the middle. It seems more sensible.

Day Three: Mechanical Fuck Beast

We were sitting in the Pleasance courtyard today, being flyered approximately once every thirty seconds, as the flyerers still care about what they're doing, and haven't yet seen all their shows and so can still lie convincingly about the quality of what they're pushing, and we were generally enjoying being there in the sunshine without too bad a hangover. However, Sharon was experiencing some discomfort, as she had a sore eye, and didn't know the cause.

Over sauntered Fringe First winner and - more importantly - Comedy Lounge Award winner Sir Adrian Poynton, who is doing a fabulous show this year in the Pleasance called Success. He came to say hi, and enquired after our health. Sharon informed him at that point she was having problems with her eye. Adrian offered to help. Sharon offered her eye to him. And lo, a miracle occured. With one touch of the Poynton miraculous healing hands, the pain disappeared, Sharon was cured and she could see once more. So, if there are any lepers or cripples, blind men or those with eczema in the Edinburgh area, we'd recommend you attend the Pleasance Below at 4.35pm and ask him to heal you too.

We attended three shows today, two of them for free thanks to more kindly flyerers. Laurence and Gus are fabulously brilliant, and should be seen by all - reviews coming soon. Spencer Brown was also highly enjoyable, and we left with joyous hearts.

Lee Mack took time out of his show to catagorise us both in to his two definitions of lady's faces - apparently Sharon is a Plate Face while Susan is more of a Horse Face. We don't know what this might mean, but we'll be demanding an explanation soon and will get back to you.

Day Two: On my command, release Helen

Yesterday was a less successful foray in to the world of Edinburgh Festival attendance. We contend that a lot of this had to do with the hangover Susan was carrying around with her, and Sharon's inability to get around to doing anything. We did do a big shop at Tescos, filling the flat up with unnecessarily healthy food in an attempt to try not to die this year.

We finally had our first glance of the Mums, as they appeared to have been avoiding us up to this point, making empty promises and non appearances. Well, we know their game, and refuse to be pulled in to their attention seeking games. We made our excuses and left, and then only cried for about half an hour because they didn't love us before going to see Markus Birdman in the lovely Pod Deco because a nice Karushi flyerer saw our crying faces and gave us free tickets. The show was worth every penny.

After that our energy levels dipped slightly, and we decided a return to our luxury pad was in order. Having made the official team decision not to attend the List party on the grounds that Sharon didn't want to go because it was too far away, we reassessed our options and decided that Gary Le Strange would be the best bet. Which it was. We can, hand on our hearts, say that that show gets better every day. Everyone at the Festival must go and see it. Everyone.

We are happy to report that we're making a new friend every day with our happy social skills and beaming smiles. On Wednesday, Susan developed a close personal understanding with the Butch one from Topping and Butch, although she can't strictly remember details of the conversations they had. Yesterday, we were hysterically pleased to be joined in the Brooks bar by Neil Consultant, who came to join us when Justin Consultant suddenly remembered he had somewhere else to be. Neil Consultant is an officer and a gentleman, and we're very pleased to be able to call him our newest friend, and indeed our favourite Consultant.

We ended up back at the Brooks Bar for a swift one drink that lasted until 3.30am, joined as we were by the glamour that is friend of the Lounge and Tech Extraordinaire, Kerry. Kerry and Sharon have laid down plans for a comedy show starring them next year, imaginatively titled 4 Tits. Can you begin to imagine what that might be about? Yes, yes you can.

Uncle Vinnie also appeared as if by magic, and we were glad and rejoiced.

This morning our smoke alarm went off at 9.30am for no reason, and eerily managed to continue for a few moments even after Susan had violently ripped the battery out. We think the flat might be haunted.

Day One: Make Faces, Not War

Team CL had an emotional reunion in the arrivals lounge of Edinburgh airport, where, much to Sharon's surprise, she got off the airplane in one piece, and not dead and/or hysterical as previously expected. Our flat is a beauty and a marvel to behold, sitting as it does with a great view of Arthurs Seat, and placed equidistant from the Pod, the Pleasance and the Gilded Balloon. We will be living here in August forever more.

We're also a hop, skip and small jump away from the Tesco on Clerk Street, and every time we've been in so far we've spotted some Lounge Favourites. This therefore will start a new feature of this year's Festival coverage: spotted in Tescos. In the margin on the right hand side, we will be keeping a track of who we've seen and when. For scientific reasons. Enjoy.

We decided to start ourselves in gently yesterday, and went to see shows we were fairly confident would pretty much rock. We lost our 2004 Fringe cherries in Jeremy Lion's Birthday Party, where we both threatened to tell Uncle Jeremy that it was the other's birthday, but lost out to a poor unfortunate called Kerry. Jeremy's son Baxter and Kerry were therefore the centre of the show, and we'll be recommending this highly as soon as we get around to writing the review.

Next up was Richard Keith Herring's 12 Tasks, which was held in the newest venue, Pod Deco. It's a really nice venue, looking surprisingly similar to the cinema it used to be. The show was great, even if Richard Keith lost his place a couple of times, and the 12 tasks flew by. We'd particularly like to thank the ignorant idiot who kept up a stupid running commentary throughout the show and occasionally shouted up unhelpful suggestions to Rich, but just quiet enough that Rich couldn't hear it. The audience also held lovely Ben Moor and super Stewart Lee, so we had a quiet moment to celebrate Lee and Herring being in the same room together.

Finally we enrolled in Gary Le Strange's Face Academy and became Face Cadets, sitting as we were in the front row. We had presumed that since we knew Gary's alter ego, Waen Shepherd, that he probably wouldn't pick on us. We were wrong. Having tried unsuccessfully to engage Sharon in conversation (she apparently has no answer to the question "who's your favourite philosopher?"), he took some time out to scream some choice lyrics in Susan's face. We cried laughing. It's a brilliant show. We'll be back again and again, and Face Academy the album is already irritating our neighbours as we play it 24/7.

We wandered over to the Brooks Bar for a quick drink, just one for the road before retiring sensibly early, but ended up getting sucked in to playing pool with two thirds of The Trap. For the record, after approximately 1 hour 10 minutes, Team Susan and Dan beat Team Sharon and Paul, although we contend that it was all just a fluke, and there will be a rematch in the future.

Finally, setting a terrifying precedent that doesn't bode well for the future of the CL livers, we were the last people to leave the Brooks Bar at 4 this morning, walking slightly behind Topping and Butch. We therefore win the first round of Alcoholics 2004. Bring on the rest of the month.

"Touch... safe... nice"

Hello!

How the months have flown by! Welcome to the newest, latest, bestest edition of Comedy Lounge, this month in the shape of a special Festival edition, happily appearing just as the Edinburgh Fringe Festival 2004 is starting, if not before. Inside these glorious pages you’ll find a list of previewed shows we guarantee will have you laughing and maybe even so much that you'll wet yourself. You’ll also find a comprehensive venue guide, including box office and toilet locations. We’ll be keeping our traditional Daily Festival Diary, and reviewing shows as and when we see them, so you can keep up to date with what’s happening, when, where and who it’s happening to. We've also got some choice interviews lined up - some of them with comedians who aren't even performing this year. We've cast our comedy net afar.

Since we last spoke, we’ve been busy re-launching the new look, new content, newly plagiarised The Mighty Boosh website, to coincide with the broadcast of the excellent tv series on the excellent BBC3. The imminent transfer to BBC2 will find even more content being added in the next few months, and monitoring the forums has become our new community service. So pull up a stool, grab a cushion and let us tell you what's what, in our slightly immature and amusing way which you have grown to love.

Sharon has taken up the study of psychology, so you have to watch what you say or do around her, or she’ll start analysing you in the style of a Big Brother psychologist, all group dynamics and body language. Sharon has started a new hobby of regular hospital visits, and the constant taking of painkillers and valium relating to her triumphant success in developing an incurable problem with her back. Thanks to the regular intake of prescription drugs, Sharon also has a new fixation with science fiction, and now harbours ambitions of marriage to Peter Davison, Mark Strickson and Nathan Fillion. Finally, everyone on the small green island should rejoice, as she’s back living in Ireland with two parents, two dogs, two cats and a satellite dish. The Edinburgh Fringe Festival 2004 will be the first time Sharon’s left the house in over seven months.

Susan has had possibly the bestest four months ever as she has a shiny new job which she loves which allows her to wear jeans and trainers to work as well as be creative. It really doesn't get much better than that. As if that wasn't enough she hasn't had to hand in her notice and is in fact on duty during the festival - acting as some kind of double agent - and gets to go back to the same job in September. It really is too good to be true. Her new hobby is staying out all night and not making it home or even telling her parents so. In short, she is a dirty stop out and will be moving out of home just as soon as the festival ends and she can find someone who will put up with her crack habit. Susan has also taken to wearing skirts and buying pink shoes.

So you find us refreshed, revivified and, in the best traditions of Ant and/or Dec, ready to rumble. If you see us around the Fringe, please buy us a drink, as our finances are in the worst shape they’ve ever been. Please leave your comments and suggestions wherever you like around the site, or email us at fringe@comedylounge.co.uk.

S&S

Hello

Comedy Lounge has been relaunched, and not a moment too soon!

Just over 1 hour into August 2004, and Comedy Lounge, as you know and love it, is back. Aren't you pleased? We certainly are.

In a matter of hours, Susan will be winging her way by the medium of the motor car to the Northern Areas of England, in which she will rest for a mere moment before bouncing across the borders and in to Bonny Scotchland, a place she will be calling her home for just under a month.

Sharon will be joining her on Wednesday, travelling there in a magical manner that will certainly not involve an airplane, no siree, that would be just asking for trouble.

We'll be using this page, as well as the rest of the website, to show off about how much fun we're having, who we're having it with, what we're doing with those people in order to make the fun, and then complaining about our hangovers the next day. Do keep coming back.

This year there's the added fun of a comments section on almost every page, so you can join in too!

If you're coming up to the Festival, in a technical, promotional, performance or audience capacity, and you keep a weblog or journal, please let us know so that you can be added to the ever expanding roll of shame list of blogs found on the right hand side. We'll even plug your show for you if you feel it's necessary.

Must get some sleep now.

Night xx