They Liked Us. They Really Liked Us.

So, we're back home after a genuinely remarkable month. Ophira, Peter and I had a blast. But we couldn't have done it without the enormous talent, humor, good will and bullshit of Martin Dockery, Steve (The Cop) Osborne and Faye Lane. I'm presently too disoriented to arrange any more thoughts in coherent order, but here are some kind words from the Edinburgh press.

4 stars from THREE WEEKS:
"Four fabulous comedians, four fantastical stories, three of which are true. What's more, the acts rotate every night, so this is also a wonderful way to see some fresh comedic talent that you might not otherwise have known about. It was an unbelievably enjoyable and engrossing hour of fun, the anecdotal
tales ranging from a disastrous flight fiasco to a too-good-to-be-true camping adventure, and from a New York gun crime cop, 'The Sopranos'' style, to a lovely bloke who's recently discovered he's a brother again. All are as touching as they are personal, and as hilarious as they are incredible. Get along and test your interrogative powers; if you can spot the lie you might win a T-shirt."

4 stars from THE SCOTSMAN
"...happier times are to be had in the hands of stand-up professionals at The Liar Show, telling gripping personal stories. Three are true, one entirely fabricated. The audience is invited to grill them on the specifics and then vote. Guess correctly you win a prize! My crew consisted of adorable Carey Marx, describing an unusual date; wonderful Ophira Eisenberg confessing to sex with a mad collector; Peter Lubell's wry tale of celeb spotting; and Jason John Whitehead's rambling saga about his trip to an American theme park. Some story-tellers return, but the tales are always different, so the show's never stale and can be revisited.

The audience was a hoot, as well, ganging up on Whitehead, who had us in stitches trying to defend his stoner's inability to remember detail. Clever us, we did spot the liar, and it was satisfying hurling our abuse. In short: good premise, fun show, great execution, and a chance to sample comedic talents you might not know about, so it also functions as a highly effective sampler for future fringe picks. A winner."

"Next to breathing and eating, lying is man's greatest survival tactic. I should include some percentile fact about deceit but that won't add anything to the review. Instead I shall recommend The Liar Show, a one hour detective-comedy extravaganza where you sift through the stories of individuals and spot the fibber.

Its an easy game to grasp. Four stories. Three of them are true. You listen, interrogate and then through the powers of deduction work out which is the liar. This time we had a New York cop story, a story about Madonna, a story about a thousand pieces of origami and one about cut price prawns. Of course they all were equally extravagant and fairly unbelievable and no-one quite wanted to call the big cop who ran over drug dealers a liar.

Great premise and a fun show. Unfortunately you always get one foppish annoying pubescent know-it-all in the audience trying to dominate the show – thankfully the compare dealt with him swiftly. A night of solid wholesome fun that, due to story tellers changing nightly, has a lot of re-watch value. And of course no one leaves empty handed – badges and t-shirts are handed out at the end."


Week Three: Day Six

Nothing much to report. Snails and birds are under control. I'm sleeping better. I have to say, things are getting a little...oh, wait.. our Saturday show sold out. I'm no showbiz genius but I hear that's supposed to be a good sign. Also, I had some haggis pie and..what else? Oh, we were live on BBC Scotland, performing to a great crowd in the Spiegel Tent. Like I said, nothing much to report. Also like I said, our Saturday show SOLD OUT.


Week Three: Day One

The seagull situation remains under control but now the snail population seems to be multiplying exponentially. Happily, unlike birds, snails are quiet creatures, except when you step on them accidentally in the dark as I did last night. When that happens they emit a sound similar to the sound a giant armor-clad water bug might make while being crushed under the heel of a beet-and-sausage-fed Slavic housekeeper in the basement laundry room.

Being so extremely quiet and so extremely slow makes the humble snail -- despite its thick protective shell -- extremely easy to kill. Sad. I imagine one slithering along, whistling to itself, secure in the knowledge that Darwin has fitted it with a movable bomb shelter, an impenetrable body-helmet that nobody, not even the most dangerous "Oooh, I'm sooo scary and predatory" hawk or eagle, or whatever, could .... and then, crunch. Just like that. Gone. Poof, mid snail-thought and while whistling Singin' In The Rain. It's all over. Pulverized under the heel of an Ugly American out for a smoke in front of the rental flat.

Perhaps we can all learn a lesson from this, while we sit, safe and warm, typing on our laptop, happy and bloated with self-confidence, after a great Liar show, say, staring at our 4 stars, sipping wine and feeling that all's well with the wor...


Week Two: So Far, So Good

Two pieces of good news.
1: Look over there to the left. Need I say more?
2: The seagull situation has cleared up mysteriously.


Week One: Must Sleep

Monday: Woke up early this morning, having the living piss scared out of me by one of Edinburgh’s picturesque and loud as fuck seagulls. Snapped from a dead sleep to heart-poundingly alert at 5:10 by a sound eerily like that of a shrieking baby crash-landing on my window sill, possibly a flaming baby, possibly being torn apart by demons. But no, just a bird. "Tweet tweet." Also, went leafleting on Royal Mile.

Tuesday: See “Monday”

Wednesday: See “Tuesday”
Also, had a lovely breakfast of mature cheddar and eggs with piping hot coffee. I prefer to wait until at least sunrise before having my morning meal, nevertheless it was quite nice sipping a cup by my bedroom window and staring out through the pre-dawn murk, watching the graceful swoop and soar of the gulls, listening to their musical “Caw! C-A-W!!”
Also, downloaded PDF of UK Firearms Form 107: “Application for a Visitor's Shot Gun Permit.”

Thursday: Discovered firearm possession requirements are substantially more stringent here than in the U.S., where checking the “I Promise I Am Not Angry At Anyone” box will usually suffice.

Friday: See “Monday,” “Tuesday,” “Wednesday”
Also, neighbours across the road insisted I remove the web of taught razor wire I had strung up during the night between our buildings, baited with rotting bits of fish.

Saturday: Leafleting mainly, but found time to shop for a net, plastic bags and a hammer.

Sunday: Slept soundly. Woke up refreshed. Rinsed off hammer. Took out trash. Mopped bathroom floor. Coffee and toast at noon. Also, leafleted Victoria Street. Lovely city.