Oh dear oh dear. Listening to old tapes of when I was a significantly less effective stand-up comedian... it's not much fun. I wonder what I'll make of my current abilities in 8 months' time. Still, at least I'm at home, warm and bathed in plenty of light. This is in stark contrast to last night's antics.

What happened last night?

Well, I'll tell you!

Actually, let's look at what I've done since the last post.

On Thursday evening I went to Birmingham - Moseley to be precise - to do a deceptively difficult gig. It looked like the sort of audience I'd have fun with, but they seemed slightly harder to please once under the spotlight and facing their stares. Still, I did my thing and left the stage after my 100th gig a little more aware of my limitations than when I went up there. I should point out that I did reasonably well, just not as well as I might have hoped. Tough gig.

Friday was a trip to Perth. Picking up a fellow comedian at 4pm and heading up to Scotland was a recipe for a long night. The gig itself was small but perfectly formed and I expected to get home at around 4 or 4.30am once we set back from the site of our most recent laughter-based exploits... but oh no... oh no no no...

We didn't go straight home. No, we went messing round on B-roads until we found the most haunted castle in the whole of Europe. That's right. We celebrated the end of the gig by going for a walk around the old haunted castle. With night-vision failing and very little light available in the middle of nowhere, we decided to wander around to see if we could find any signs of ghostly activity.

It was quite good fun... I've never been so happy about smoking in my life as when my colleague's lit cigarette provided a gentle source of light for the first part of our trip.

I had my excuse planned in case the owner called the police. We were going to claim we were from the AA-hotel guide... stealth division!

Didn't get to my home until 5.30am.

Still, it's all part of life's rich tapestry. Thank goodness for weekend gigs.