August

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Diary: Thursday August 17th

Here we are nearly inti ra middle o ra festival, an nae a dish in ra hoose washed.

Ah! Heard frae ma posh cousin Markus that ra official Festival haid been Barbarically torturing audiences (read ma pal Thelma's review) wi a play that wis supposed tae be a comedy. Ah weil it goes tae show ye that even the high heid yins get git it wrang.

Av never understood, aw that fixation posh fowk hae goat wie Opera, gie me a guid sing song anytime but, it seems tae me that an awfy lot o money is spent by a lot o fowk, tae please just a few cheils wha call it high art and tell us that we must hae it. Am shair the money could be better spent.... but then what dae ah ken...

Ah met a fella called Jillbert the Mighty, frae ra Indi. That's ra Independent Newspaper, tae you fowk whae dinna ken ony better. Jillbert wis covering comedy at his first festival and efter bein here since week zero, he wis ready tae go hame, ah said dinna be daft Jillbert yiv nae goat yer second wind yet, hae another goldie, an ye'll feel brand new. He says, "Why not?" cos he's frae London, "That's the ticket!" says he. Problem sorted. Aye it's a great tonic, the water o life!

Hamewurd……. see ya ra morra Fergie.


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