Edinburgh Fringe Day 7: He Needed To Take Some Time Off

It was my day off so I went on an ADVENTURE. Recklessly, I had only booked one show in advance of yesterday (more on that later), so it was kind of a free for all in terms of what shows I saw. Let’s get into it.

So I kicked off with seeing Harriet Braine, who I once played Super Smash Brothers with. For some reason. She does art historical comedy songs, to the tune of pop classics - I won’t spoil any for you, but the Heironymous Bosch one is worth waiting for. She’s hilarious and at 1:15 at the Golf Tavern, which is bloody miles away but so so worth it. Us Buxton Fringe Award Winners gotta stick together, right? *flips fake hair*

After that I saw Thrill Me: The Leopold and Loeb Story, which is a musical about some hella gay murderers. The actors were fab and did some gr9 singing, and the pianist was a bloody champ, but the star of the show was the SEXINESS. Like turned on by crime sexiness.

I am a mess. But yeah, I would recommend.

Continuing my exploration of queer original musicals, I went to see How To Win Against History, a show that I saw last year and loved, which is about the crossdressing Marquess of Anglesey, and is HILARIOUS. I was a bit worried that it would maybe have become a bit too big and would have lost the intimacy from the tiny box it was in last year, but that wasn’t the case. It’s a heartwarming, hilarious romp through a rarely-told story. They said that the soundtrack will be out in a couple of days, and I am eagerly watching Spotify for when it drops. Fun bonus fact: How To Win Against History semi-inspired the play I wrote for my dissertation this year, which was about the history of crossdressing. I put a fleeting reference to Henry in the play and I got *HUMBLE BRAG* 79 for it, so thanks the How To Win crew.

It’s no secret that I love Dolly Parton. She remains the only famous singer that I’ve seen live, with the exception of the Glee cast (don’t stop believing, guys). I know most of her songs by heart, and the day she dies will be one of the worst of my life.

DollyWould, by Shit Theatre, begins with a crazily slowed down version of Jolene, and the madness doesn’t end there. There are wigs, boobs, heels, cloning and misogyny, all fantastically woven together in a show which examines legacy, individuality and, of course, country music. It’s hard to describe, but do go (once you’ve seen my show, of course, as they are on at the exact same time of 9:15pm).

I stayed in Summerhall to see a show called ‘Some Tiny Plays About How Fucked We Still Are’, which was a quasi-verbatim play where internet-written scenes, taken from Reddit, answers.com, Twitter etc., were chosen at random through a bingo-ball system. We also had bingo cards with quotes on, which we had to cross off if any of the actors said them, in order to win fabulous prizes. Now, if there’s one thing I love as much as Dolly Parton, it’s BINGO. This was a great show for me, and whilst I did poorly at the bingo, I did have a great time. One of the tiny plays about how very, very fucked we still are, I think came from answers.com and went as follows:

‘How long can a five year old girl hold her breath? I have a date next week.’

YES Gordon Ramsey sex dwarf

And that was my day off. Art, murder, dresses, Dolly and bingo. 

I’m having a great Fringe.

Edinburgh Fringe Day 6: I Could End Up a Miserable Wife

What. A. Day.

So as I was flyering on Tuesday, on a street corner (classic), someone walked past me who I thought I recognised. We had some kind of facial interaction, with my face doing a sort of ‘is it?’ thing, and their face doing a ‘why is this drag queen staring at me and doing a sort of ‘is it?’ thing?’

It turned out it was Charlie Hides, from RuPaul’s Drag Race Season 9.

Could you shut up a second?

We chatted and he was really nice. He’d initially opened our conversation with some sort of cockney accent so I wasn’t really sure if I was having a stroke or something. I wasn’t. He went to see Myra Dubois who is, incidentally, on my list of things to see. I saw Charlie again in the Fringe Box Office yesterday (Wednesday), but I was out of drag and I didn’t want to seem CRAZY.

After my show (which went well, thanks for asking - I made someone cry), I went with my drag mother, Crudi Dench, to a club night called Rabbit Hole, hosted by Alice Rabbit, a queen with one of the most phenomenal voices I’ve ever heard. We did some lip-syncing, an impromptu Read You Wrote You (I played Detox, unconvincingly), and saw a queen called GROUNDSKEEPER FANNY (OH MY GOD) do a lip-sync number about Jasmine Masters. We died.

An okay picture of us before we died

At one point in the evening, an older guy, maybe about seventy, came up to me and asked me if he could buy me a glass of champagne. I said yes, although when we got to the bar and he asked me what I wanted, I panicked and didn’t want to sound like a dick so I said I’d have whatever he was having. It was vodka and cranberry which I’ve not actually had before and never fucking will again because it tasted like regret. The man said to me that I was the prettiest girl there, and I must definitely had a boyfriend.

I laughed in his face.

He told me he was a wine merchant and lived in Morocco, but unfortunately he was over three times my age and I wasn’t ready to be kidnapped and never see my family again. He gave me his card, so once I’d finished my drink I went around telling people that if I were to pass out, the number of the guy who did it was in my left breast.

I was in drag for fourteen hours on Tuesday. I had tape holding back my lower portions for FOURTEEN HOURS.

Why do I do these things?

Edinburgh Fringe Day 5: Suddenly I Find The Electricity is Gone

You know the feeling when you hand out flyers for your fringe show, expertly declaiming the inclusion of your perfectly-curated, 90-slide Powerpoint, and then go to do your show and the screens for your Powerpoint don't work?

Maybe you don't know the feeling. I do. Classic Free Fringe. I found myself having to sort of edit the show as I went, and at one point made beautiful Nick hold my laptop for a song. Someone remarked that my laptop was really dirty. It's because I don't love myself. The audience was great at bearing with me, and it's always nice to be kept on your toes.

Speaking of toes, yesterday while flyering I was referred to as 'that man with shoes on'. Please put that on my gravestone. Check my Instagram to see a video of the man with shoes on.

Tonight (Tuesday) is my last show before my first night off. I'm seeing DollyWould tomorrow night, which is about Dolly Parton, and I am SO excited.

I'm also considering buying one of those big-ass banners that are around. I know it's a free show and I know I'm punching above my weight here, but it might be nice to have a big picture of me somewhere. Let me know what you think, dear reader.

Edinburgh Fringe Day 4: Next To Normal

Today I saw a woman drop at least six cucumbers on the street. Almost instantly I said 'same' and suddenly I was the weird one. I also had a disappointing quesadilla so the day was not going well.

However...

MY SHOW WAS FULL!

This was very exciting, and the audience was super great. Even the drunk guy who made me promise I wouldn't call him a Nazi, as someone on the street had previously. We also learnt from someone else about normal porn, which I can only describe as 'dick in, dick out, get on your bike'. Bless him. There was also a guy in an official-looking Fringe lanyard who was moving around at the back of the audience for the first half of the show, so if I receive some kind of scathing review in the near future, someone please ply me with alcohol/memes.

I also flyered for the show in my 8.6"-ers WITHOUT FALLING OVER! This Fringe lark is great.

Edinburgh Fringe Day 3: Springtime For Hitler

Today I met the media. They were quite nice, but I did a lot of standing, and for a busy woman such as me to stand for at least four hours, something’s gotta give. Nothing did give, but I met some really nice fellow performers, including Elsa von Schnippish, a German cabaret star who helped the Allies win WWII, and also does a show with a cabaret star named…

FRANK SANAZI

who does Old Blue Eyes/Third Reich mashups such as ‘I’ve Got You Under Berlin’, which is genius and you should probably go and see it (after my show, obvs).

I also did my show again which, despite me only flyering during the hour before, was quite well attended. We met Chris, who introduced us to the concept of ‘barback’, which is something I’m still not sure about. Chris also won the cassette tape, which definitely did not work in the machine. Sorry Chris. Maybe put a pencil through the holes and do some twisting. Barback.

Also, I forgot to mention that I shaved off half of each eyebrow. It makes getting ready a lot easier, but my non-existent sex life will remain non-existent for the foreseeable future. Never mind. I’m too busy for a man.

The Fringe continues...

Edinburgh Fringe Day 2: Go, Go Joe

Today was great. I put on my Claire's Accessories nails and headed out of the door. I then realised it was impractical to wear these when flyering and playing the ukulele, so I headed back in the door and removed them. They look great though, despite being made for ladies with small hands, and me putting them on very poorly. And also....

I did a show! It was surprisingly busy, despite it being the first show, and the fact that I had only really flyered for an hour, before falling out of my 8.6" heels. Not the best look, but people came!

To see the show, you filthy animal.

The audience was really nice; we learnt about Christie, who worked in the film industry and was scared of the bottom of boats, and we heard from Steph, who did something else that I can't remember. But the star of the show was army man Joe, who taught me a lot about his taste in pornography - groups and/or bukkake (which a) my autocorrect wanted to change to 'backache', and b) has a fascinating Wikipedia article). Thank you, Joe. Joe also won a prize and had lovely arms. If you're out there, Joe, hmu.

It was also lovely to see some familiar faces in the audience, and catch up with them afterwards. Gah, I just love the Fringe. People are so nice.

Let us see what the rest of the month brings....

Edinburgh Fringe Day 1: Hot, Hot, Hot, Sweat Sweet

When two people are going away for a month, it’s terribly sensible to pack two bags. However, when two people live inside one body, it proves difficult to carry both of their clothes and belongings. I learned this the hard way; by carrying two suitcases around the step-filled Escherism that is Edinburgh. The sweat, my children, the sweat. More sweat was incurred by the fact that I literally ran around Edinburgh picking up flyers, getting cables, and delivering laptops. By virtue of this, however, my show is teched! I’m literally at the bottom of a very large nightclub, which is one of the hottest rooms on earth. Maybe my makeup will melt and you’ll realise I’m a man. I hope not.

It’s very exciting to be back in Edinburgh, and I’ve already had a Mosque Kitchen (the best curry), and managed to complete my walk/run/genuine sprint around Edinburgh without being offered a single flyer. If I look stressed and full of purpose enough, flyerers tend to part like the Red Sea to let my sweaty existence through. My flat is also great, as well as the people I’m living with, but it and they are literally up three flights of stairs. NOT GREAT WITH TWO BAGS AND THEN A BOX OF 2500 FLYERS AND THEN A TIRED PERSONAGE.

I open tomorrow/today (sorry my internet was bad). Let's do this.

Edinburgh Fringe Day 0: Long, Beautiful Hair

It's no secret that I, in addition to a long nose and a pair of cufflinks, have inherited a higher-than-average amount of body hair from my ancestors.

I mean on my body, not like in a box or something.

This can prove difficult when one is attempting to present as the most beautiful fake woman in Derbyshire, and you may have noticed the sheer manliness of my hands and forearms in various pictures of me (see Media for more), so I thought that, in preparation for attending the LARGEST ARTS FESTIVAL IN THE WORLD (lol), eradicating one's arm hair is only good and proper.

Good and proper: yes. Easy: no.

I have shaved my arms once. I have Veeted my arms once. I have remembered that I am semi-allergic to Veet once. THE HAIR STILL PERSISTS. If you know any ways I can succeed, please comment. Otherwise, I'm considering just hitting the Royal Mile, razor in hand, and asking people to shave what they see... (Malcolm Harder award, anyone?)

In other news, I've packed everything I think I need. Into more than one suitcase. Oh god. Luckily, your gal treated herself and paid an extra £10 for first class, so I'm hoping that there'll be room for all this woman. I've been packed since about Sunday, which means I've been left with just those gross clothes you never wear yet still unexplainably own which, for me, is a pair of blue linen trousers and a jumper that says 'A Very Palpable Tit' on the right breast. I was in Hamlet once and was, quite frankly, conned into buying a jumper for it, so consider it a protest slogan.

I've forgotten to buy a new book for the five hour train journey tomorrow, but I've just remembered that I need to writing five minutes of golf-related stand-up for a gig I'm doing next week, which also involves me playing golf. I know absolutely nothing about golf, so it will probably take the full five hours to write something that makes sense - whether or not it will be funny is frankly irrelevant at this stage. I really want to buy some of those ugly trousers, though.

My train is at 8:26am tomorrow. Pray for me.