Fringe day nine…

I have had enough rambling about venues, reviews, performances and all that other crap that makes me smile when I am bored. Here is the low-down. I am fucking so laughing at myself for even attempting to bring along nice clothes, high heel sandals, and fresh new make up. I have no time to wear anything other than last night’s knickers and eat salad that is leaking out of a plastic bowl into my handbag that has left my purse smelling of coleslaw.
I run to The Assembly Rooms to perform my play -constantly stripping down to my tatty bra in front of a smiling gruff Mike Wilmot who balks every time.
He is in Rich Halls play Levelland and we share a dressing room, no matter how many times I try to time the tatty bra strip, poor Mike catches sight of my flabby belly and huge boobs…poor man must on stage traumatised.
I then manage to wipe off some of the sweat of playing a drug addict and rush down to the Underbelly whilst munching on a salad bowl from my dirty handbag (how nice is that?) then I get on stage and let Ashley take the piss out of me for a whole hour, she even drags me around that stage by the ankles!
I then run outside, grab a fag and munch more salad or even lick the side of my purse as it has some coleslaw on it and run upstairs to the Underbelly and perform my show Janey Godley’s Blog Live!
Then I drag my sad smelly sweat stained ass, yesterdays knickers, coleslaw smeared face and run home to finally shower and promise myself a clean pair of knickers for tomorrow. Then I may run off and do late night gigs, eyes hollow, make up gone and a strange mixture of salad and sweat STILL reeking off my clothes.
Where and when was I planning to wear a clean white linen dress and cork heeled wedges? Where was I going to find time to blow dry my hair?
You know what; I don’t even get to sleep properly -the noise from Fishmarkets Close is fucking un-bearable, people scream, gulls cry, all night long we have fucking tours- literally tours, murder tours ( I could fucking arrange that soon).
You know what? I LOVE IT….all of it.
I love being here, I love getting on stage – I love the smell….I am not sure about the stinky knickers, but if you see me running with tufty knotted hair, smelly arm pits and munching limp salad…smile and know that I am having a great time.