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Tuesday, August 31, 2004
  of course
it's the most beautiful day today. holy mother of fucksticks, it is
beautiful. clear, blue skies that go on forever and a gentle breeze
cooling you off just as you get too warm.

motherfuckers.

it was so beautiful today.

i walked around all day. took a photo of myself crying. i hate
goodbyes. i hate them, even goodbye to a place that i don't like.

i see the people and think about their lives and that fucking cliche
"the humanity" and how we're all just trying to get by and find people
to spend our time with. and walking down the royal mile and seeing the
water and hearing those fucking bagpipes (i love bagpipes) one gets a
bit weepy.

the city seems so different. not as crowded. they've been tearing the
venues down since last night. took a final walk through the pleasance
courtyard to see them take the shack we called home away.

so weird and different.

arthur's seat, this enormous mountain thing looms behind the courtyard
and looked quite inviting, so i thought i'd climb it.

it was nice. it was difficult, but i hiked up for about half an hour
and took some photos.

i love people stopping to smoke when climbing mountains. it seems
great.seems like a perfect thing to do when climbing a mountain.

we'll be back tomorrow. that will fucking RULE ASS!

went back to the flat and victor informed me that he had found a bag
full of change that he'd been keeping. i'd been keeping a bunch of
change as well so we headed off to negociants to have some goodbye
nachos. one of the great moments were when we had the nachos there the
first time. we had thought that we were doomed on the food front and
those negociants nachos.... not great, but fuck they were good that
night.

they were perfect today. perfect. we had 14 pounds in change and the
nachos plus the sodas came to 13.70. i had an extra pound coin in my
pocket. we called the waitress over and showed her our stacking method
and she seemed fine with the bucket of change.

so. good nachos and it was as if they were free. something about
paying for something in change makes it feel like it's fucking free.

self delusion is cool.

i'll be kicking caffeine when i get back. i did it before and it's not
pretty. headaches, etc. oy.

i'm at beanscene coffee now. they have the worst wi-fi in the world.
if i turn my machine sideways, i lose my connection. sometimes it
takes 1/2 an hour to connect. fucking fuck. they also play three
movies: men in black, good morning viet nam and crouching tiger,
hidden wire.

they seem to have added a new star wars movie. perfect time for me to
leave the country.

the weather was so nice today i thought "you know, maybe i *will* come
back next year!"

fuck.

soon i will be at home.
 
Monday, August 30, 2004
  done
done.
coming home.
may not lose my shirt completely.
rare.
they still have time to figure out how to fuck me over, though. it is
the theater, after all!
 
  mr kabc
i'm going to be pimping the big shoe on the Mr. KABC radio program
this friday, sept. 3 at 11pm.

i was on last year talking about my bill of rights - security edition
cards. www.securityedition.com

perhaps this will sell some tickets! woohoo
 
Sunday, August 29, 2004
  dunno
blogger's not accepting posts from email.

dunno.
 
  ugly
victor and i went to see andrew maxwell last night. a great irish comic. man, he's great. he rides around on a tricycle to four circles he draws on the stage and talks about different things from each circle.

a contrived premise (aren't they all?) but really fucking wonderful. of course he's a socialist and that's where we part company, but like all socialists, his heart is in the right place. it's just the method of making the world better we disagree upon.

he has a great line: ever hit a transvestite? it's all the fun of hitting a woman withoutany of the guilt.

fucking great.

also, great show with the pc cowboys last night. nifty.

in other news:

now it's going to get ugly.

this is where people put their hands in and decide that they know bestand that things should be changed.

"there is no way you can appear in hollywood palms"
"no one will ever make this movie with you attached"
okay.
bring it, fuckers.
i'm ready to come home.
apparently, i'm not the only one who is of the mind that the weather is sucking ass in the bad way. the people who live here are bummed atthe weather, too. they say it's cold.

IF THEY SAY IT'S COLD IT MUST FUCKING BE FUCKING COLD, RIGHT?!

right.

complain, complain.

do not come back. do not come back. remember that.

i will, perhaps, be eating words next july.

great shows the last two days. sell-outs. great audiences. really great audiences.

two more shows and we should be selling out.

the ONLY thing bringing people to the theater is word of mouth. the good news is: i will have a plethora of posters to bring home. i believe they've put up a total of 10 posters around Edinburgh. at first, i thought it was just me being pissy about the lack of promotion, but it's not. there's been none.

there's a big difference to the press, which the press agent has done a great job getting, and the actual postering/flyering that hasn't been done.

i am fighting that urge that i always have to slash and burn all relationships at the end of projects. it is a weird fucking urge that i've always had and acted on for many years. i'm just trying to keep my fucking mouth shut and not speak my mind which is probably not firing on all cylinders right now.

i want to hurt people. bad. and i know how to do it.

just a couple more days and i can wake up with jessie laughing because the world will be beautiful and safe again.
 
  balls, holy
three more shoes to go.
man, oh man.

there have been some "important people" in the audiences. at least one have come more than once and provenz' is working on "some stuff" forus.

as long as i don't have to come back here and live in squalor.

it is a stunningly beatiful day. i'm sitting at a starbucks (HI THERE!) across from a castle. again, beautiful if you forget that it was made by slaves. it's windy windy windy (peeking out from under a staircase) but the skies are lovely blue and the castle is literally majestic.

this is the biggest starbucks i've ever seen, as well. makes sense.

pc cowboys played in a smaller venue last night because of some other special shoe happening. it was a great shoe and we had a blast. i played some of the shoe in the front row. sitting down.
fun stuff.

i'm looking forward to doing the shoe in l.a. i hope to kill.

that is all.

four days. three shoes left.

rock.
 
Friday, August 27, 2004
  sooo ready
oh man, i'm ready. i'm ready, ready, ready...

four shows left. a fine one today. we're both a bit distracted with
the fact that WE ARE COMING HOME SOON!!

played with the pc cowboys last night after their two nights off.
always fun to play with them. it's a shame that they didn't have
bigger audiences. it's a great show.

this morning, (i say morning, but it was actually 1pm) we did mervyn
stutter's pick of the fringe show. perhaps good for us to do, though
we went on a bit long and i don't think they appreciated it much.

ah well. we're leaving.

we've had some "big people" come see the show. this is very good.

my ruling wife sent me another care package full of cookies, balance
bars and icy hot for my knee. she had also sent turkey jerky, but it
was fucking confiscated.

enjoy it, you fuckers.

i have nothing to say. i want to come home.

first. sleep!
 
Wednesday, August 25, 2004
  counting the moments
oh, we're close to getting home.

so close... i can taste it. by this time next week, i will be on a
plane which will be either heading back to l.a. or plummeting in to
the atlantic ocean, courtesy of some folks who believe in god.


woohooo!
 
Tuesday, August 24, 2004
  good one
http://www.threeweeks.co.uk/edaily/edaily_15.asp


Urgent and Confidential, Dean Cameron's Nigerian Spam Scam Scam
www.edcom4.com
Most people can spot a scam email when they see it and quickly delete it. Dean
Cameron, with a cheeky mind and too much time on his hands, decided to go that
bit further and attempt to con the conmen. This is a highly entertaining and
unusual show about the email correspondence Dean set up with some Nigerian
internet scammers to give them a taste of their own medicine. It is hilarious
to see how Dean was stringing the scammers along, reinventing himself as an
eccentric weirdo with a cat obsession. The telephone conversations and the
pictures that he sent to the conmen are especially funny as they are a complete
piss-take. It's great to see the schemers getting beaten at their own game.
Pleasance, 4 - 30 Aug, 3:00pm (4:00pm), prices vary, fpp 68
tw rating 4/5
 
  another one
an okay review:

http://www.radionewt.org/current.php?show=126
 
  genius
corey klemow, who is in charge of updating the byzantine sacred fools
web site, has located the audio for the bbc interview and it is up
here:

http://www.sacredfools.org/DarkNights/04/SpamScam/

rock on corey.
 
Monday, August 23, 2004
  home stretch
only a few more days. wahooooo!!!

note to self:

make sure you take the power cable for the projection computer to the theater.

yeah.

today, i forgot the power cable. the batter meter said that i had an
hour and a half left. however, half-way through the show, the computer
shut off.

no funny cat photos.

ah well.

we were having an off show anyway. two peeps walked out. that's good.
it keeps us humble.

fuckers.

did 5 minutes on "the art show" on bbc radio today. we thought they'd
have victor, too, but it was just me. probably because he's black.
racist brits.

this link will not work after today, i think:

http://www.bbc.co.uk/scotland/radioscotland/view/show.shtml?arts

going to see glen wool tonight. he's canadian. but he's funny, too. he
has a great bit about the english getting all pissy because americans
invade everything. "where do you think they learned it from, you
fuckers?"

he also has a great thing about inconsequential canadian history. He
just makes up words. it's fucking funny.

it's raining.

go figure.
 
  nice time
.
i actually had a nice time last night.

after the pc cowboys show (a good one) the edcom4 folks had a little
gathering for all the people they employ at one of the six billion
bars at the gilded balloon.

i chatted with pc cowboys, their wives and some of the flier peeps
until the wee hours.

i slept until almost 1 today.

my computer is taking longer and longer to boot up. i don't know how
fucked it actually is, but it sure seems fucked. i am hopeful that it
will last until i get back home.

hey. it was raining this morning.

now it's sunny.

weird!
 
  home stretch

only a few more days. wahooooo!!!

note to self:

make sure you take the power cable for the projection computer to the theater.

yeah.

today, i forgot the power cable. the meter said that i had an hour and a half left.

however, half-way through the show, the computershut off.

no funny cat photos.ah well.we were having an off show anyway. two peeps walked out. that's good.it keeps us humble.

fuckers.

did 5 minutes on "the art show" on bbc radio today. we thought they'd have victor, too, but it was just me. probably because he's black.

racist brits.

this link will not work after today, i think:

http://www.bbc.co.uk/scotland/radioscotland/view/show.shtml?arts

going to see glen wool tonight. he's canadian. but he's funny, too. hehas a great bit about the english getting all pissy because americansinvade everything. "where do you think they learned it from, youfuckers?"he also has a great thing about inconsequential canadian history. Hejust makes up words. it's fucking funny.

it's raining.

go figure.


 
Sunday, August 22, 2004
  more good stuff
we had the best show ever today. huge, nearly full house, and a great,
great, great audience.

they were with us from moment one and stayed all the way through the
part where victor and i stand outside and say howdy.

we're doing the arts show on bbc radio tomorrow and then doing "pick
of the fringe" this thursday.

if we're not selling out every day within the next couple of days, i
don't know what...

man, oh man, i want to come home.

i'm done here.
 
  another good one
http://observer.guardian.co.uk/review/story/0,6903,1288019,00.html
 
  ugly american
so last night, after another depressing pc cowboys show, i went up to
the balcony area of the debating hall to watch late and live. glen
wool was the compere (m.c.) and there were some other acts i wanted to
see.

i was polite, so people squeezed in so i was then unable to see.

so i moved underneath a little taped area and sat next to a video
camera and was able to stretch my leg out (my knee is fucking falling
off, people).

i watched glen wool and a funny guy named rhys darby or some shit.

then some scottish cunt with a headset bullied his way over to me,
where i was happily minding my own business.

YOU CAN'T SIT THERE. THERE'S NO SITTING THERE.

"it's okay. i'm not touching anything"

YOU CAN'T SIT THERE.

so then i sez... i say.

YOU KNOW WHAT. I'M THE ONLY SOBER FUCKING PERSON IN YOUR ENTIRE
SHITHOLE OF A COUNTRY.

and i left.

motherfuckers.

i want to come home.
 
Saturday, August 21, 2004
  huge
.
these are huge images.

panoramic shots of the pleasance courtyard taken with my canon
digital camera. pretty nifty.

http://www.spamscamscam.com/images/pleasance_courtyardII.jpg

and

http://www.spamscamscam.com/images/pleasance_courtyard.jpg
 
  beanscene
.
the show was sold out today. that was fucking cool.

someone also decided that it would be a good idea to bring an infant
in to the show.

that was not so fucking cool.

at one point, the baby started gurgling so i ad-libbed "ibrahim,
congrats on the new baby"

then later the baby started crying. it was during a letter where i was
apologizing so i kept saying "don't cry, ibrahim, it'll be okay...
don't cry".

finally they got the hint and left.

why would you bring a baby to a show? can a baby be quiet for an hour?
what the fuck?

anyhoo ( hi, jessie!)... the show was great in spite of the
distraction from the infant. two civilians who had been to the heckle
club show at the radisson came. i was able to walk them in. it's
neat-o having people packed in to a room to see you act like a
complete dufus.

they're playing the smiths on the stereo here. lots of reverb. now
they're playing snow patrol. i like the snow patrol. hmmm. may have to
buy that.

they're showing coyote/road runner cartoons. everyone's watching and
laughing. fuck those are funny.

only 8 more shows. only 9 more days.

i can. not. wait. to. get. the. fuck. home.

one of the people at the flat is a speed freak. man. tweakers really
do suck. pretense coupled with speed is an annoying fucking
combination.

the pc cowboys are having a tough go of it. their shows are great but
there has been no audience. that is a shame. they are cool and great
and desevrve better.

balls.

better them than me!!!
 
Friday, August 20, 2004
  link
.
this works

http://www.dotphoto.com/go.asp?l=nogod&p=A3EF&AID=1727197
 
  bass
.

i hurt my knee playing a bass solo last night.

did i ever think i'd say that?

how cool is that?
 
  wow
gee, it's raining again.

go figure.

interesting show today. after nailing the intro, i moved to my
computer to discover that it was off.

the computer was off... no script. i tried to turn it on. nothing.

the power strips here have individual on/off switches and the crew has
made a habit of switchign them off. who knows why?

so, i figured that they had switched the power off for that pc. i
began trying to fix whatever the fuck was wrong as victor read his
first letter. not enough time.

i moved to victor's pc to read my first letter...

this went on for a few letters. each of us scrambling to get the
fucking pc on and then reading a letter. victor finally discovered
that my pc had been unplugged a tiny bit. he plugged it in and turned
the machine on. i heard the familiar "bling" of the machine powering
up.

now all i had to do was wade through the ten error messages during
bootup. some aol thing... dunno...

we were about 5 minutes in before it began running normally.

it was fine. didn't lose the audience at all. i think it may have
helped us a bit, even.

victor has hit a stride and i believe i have, as well. it will be odd
only doing the show two nights a week when we get back. hmmm....

it was a nice show. not a huge house, but respectable. i would really
like to sell out a few more times. that is a great feeling. seeing
that board announcing that we're sellouts. hmmm...

only ten more days of the festival. i'm finished already. i'm ready to
move on. remind me next year to make sure that i get a per diem and a
place to stay with fewer than six hundred roommates. also. remind me
to not come. thank you.

ten more shows.

the pc cowboys are having a difficult time. low morale it seems.
better them than me, i guess... it's a shame. it's a fun show. they
should have a huge crowd.

bastards.

my knees hurt. becky, the person from edcom4 in charge of my show,
gave me some sort of pain killer with coedine coDean. it helps some. i
need a knee transplant maybe. fuckers.

i do enjoy beanscene coffee shop. they showed crouching tiger hidden
wire today on the tv. that was cool. what a freaky ass movie.

not as freaky as deciding to go to scotland for a fucking month.
 
  wow
.
gee, it's raining again.

go figure.

interesting show today. after nailing the intro, i moved to my
computer to discover that it was off.

the computer was off... no script. i tried to turn it on. nothing.

the power strips here have individual on/off switches and the crew has
made a habit of switchign them off. who knows why?

so, i figured that they had switched the power off for that pc. i
began trying to fix whatever the fuck was wrong as victor read his
first letter. not enough time.

i moved to victor's pc to read my first letter...

this went on for a few letters. each of us scrambling to get the
fucking pc on and then reading a letter. victor finally discovered
that my pc had been unplugged a tiny bit. he plugged it in and turned
the machine on. i heard the familiar "bling" of the machine powering
up.

now all i had to do was wade through the ten error messages during
bootup. some aol thing... dunno...

we were about 5 minutes in before it began running normally.

it was fine. didn't lose the audience at all. i think it may have
helped us a bit, even.

victor has hit a stride and i believe i have, as well. it will be odd
only doing the show two nights a week when we get back. hmmm....

it was a nice show. not a huge house, but respectable. i would really
like to sell out a few more times. that is a great feeling. seeing
that board announcing that we're sellouts. hmmm...

only ten more days of the festival. i'm finished already. i'm ready to
move on. remind me next year to make sure that i get a per diem and a
place to stay with fewer than six hundred roommates. also. remind me
to not come. thank you.

ten more shows.

the pc cowboys are having a difficult time. low morale it seems.
better them than me, i guess... it's a shame. it's a fun show. they
should have a huge crowd.

bastards.

my knees hurt. becky, the person from edcom4 in charge of my show,
gave me some sort of pain killer with coedine coDean. it helps some. i
need a knee transplant maybe. fuckers.

i do enjoy beanscene coffee shop. they showed crouching tiger hidden
wire today on the tv. that was cool. what a freaky ass movie.

not as freaky as deciding to go to scotland for a fucking month.
 
  photos
there are photos here:

http://tinyurl.com/6lrr7
 
Thursday, August 19, 2004
  dream
my wife had a weird dream about me and a monkey.

i need to get home


 
  heckle club
the first rule of heckle club: don't talk about heckle club

last night, provenz' show was interrupted by a bunch of really
annoying fucking drunks. they had destroyed the show anyway, which
wasn't much of a show. bunch of really rotten stand ups.

but

these cunts were drunk and horrible. provenz', in all his genius, got
one of the ringleaders, someone we came to know as "j-19" up on stage.
in less than 2 minutes, j-19 had all his clothes off and was licking
provenz' naked ass.

the horrible woman got up on stage and did an annoying strip, but
wouldn't show her stupid tits.

provenz' aksed them to now sit down and play nice. they didn't.

provenz' found out they were in a show and got fliers for the show. he
told them if they didn't shut the fuck up, we were going to come to
their show and fuck it up. the fuckers kept fucking around.

there was a film crew shooting all of this.

the show is a series of sketches by med students. that's all we knew.

so, today at around 5:30pm, we all gathered at the venue. the main
hecklers were me, provenz' and a guy named alex. there were audience
members from last night's show there becasue they wanted to see the
"final act" of last night's show. accompanying provenz' were a couple,
the man owns a comedy club in liverpool. there were two other comics
who came along for the ride.

i sat in the front. everyone else was dispersed throughout the rest of
the theater, which is basically a conference room in the radisson
hotel in edinburgh.

there were some flats up which created a sort of backstage. i walked
back and said "hi, we're here... have a great show!" there were
"innocents" who looked a bit shaken.

i went back to my front row seat.

as the lights faded, i began coughing uncontrollably. loudly
apologizing for coughing so loudly. alex said "there are doctors here,
perhaps they can fix his cough". then, as the first sketch began, cell
phones began ringing. oh my. oh my. i walked across the front of the
audience, loudly apologizing for moving seats. "i really want to see
this... sorry!"

cell phones. i yelled "turn off your cell phones, that's so rude! shut up!"

there was some sketch about a daughter telling her mother about daddy
getting a blowjob by a nurse. the girl playing the little girl had
huge tits. provenz' began saying "tell it slow" i chimed in.
"slower... slower.. please... oh my god, this is nice!"

real mature. yes. i know.

the guy who owned the club began heckling, too. (afterwards, he talked
about how liberating it is to heckle)

the parents of the people in the show weren't sure what to think.

some people in the show would look at us. i would turn around to
provenz' and say "it freaks me out when they break the fourth wall"

provenz' would explain the sketches. one of them featured a man dying
and the nurse and the wife talking about dinner the night before.
heckle club members were screaming "suck his cock" and "help him, he's
dying!!" "can't you see he's dying!!"

finally, j-19 came on. the place erupted in applause. "J-19!!!!"

the interesting part was that the rest of the cast, "the innocents",
were doing what they could... they were dealing with it. j-19 and the
horrible woman were immediately pissed.

she said "shut up!" then the lights went out and i said "you shut up!"
in my most petulant kid voice.

each time j-19 came on stage, we all applauded. loudly. for a long time.

this went on for 40 minutes.

40.

forty minutes.

finally.. finally...

someone came out and made an annoucement to the audience who, for the
most part, were having a fine time. some, of course, were NOT.
provenz' explained the situation. and we left. several audience
members came with us. they enjoyed it immensely. i gave them fliers to
my show.

the people who were in the audience for last night's show loved it and
had a great time.

there was a lot more that happened. it was fucking beautiful. it was
comedy terrorism.

you are not playing with children.
 
  weary
two weeks seems like a million years.

i've found a coffee shop with wifi for a reasonable price so i can sit
and be "alone" and write and get my email.

great audience yesterday. about 30-35 peeps. really great audience.
there are two types of audiences. the ones that laugh at the funny
names and the audience who laugh at the more subtle stuff.

i guess there's something for everyone.

oh my.

last night after the pc cowboys, i went to one of the comedy shows
here. it's called the free beer show because they give out free beer.

it was horrible. really a shitty line up of comics. but provenz was
performing and i always like seeing him. i was going to leave but i
thought i'd tough it out.

there was some group of drunken shitheads generally making a
disturbance. the comics were able to glean that they were all in some
play or something.

so they basically ruined an already shitty night.

then, provenz' got up on stage.

there was a guy in the audience who had been dubbed "j-19". as soon as
provenz' got up, the guy started yelling his drunken spew. provenz'
got him up on stage.

in less than a minute, j-19 had ALL of his clothes off.

then provenz' got the annoying woman up on stage. got her top off,
though she wouldn't show anything.

provenz' said, "if you don't get naked we are coming to your show
tomorrow and ruining it the way you ruined this show"

she didn't get naked.

today at 6pm, we are going to their show. a whole group of us. at leat
10 people. we shall ruin their fucking shithole show. motherfuckers.

previous to this, i saw reginald d. hunter's show.

man. holy fuck. such a refreshing change from all of the stand-ups who
talk about petty shit. and he put a voice to this feeling i've had for
so long about groups; asking why we separate ourselves in to groups.
sports in particular and then branching out from that to countries. he
went on a wonderful jag about love and sex.

he's a black american who has been living in the uk for several years.
if he comes back to the states he will take over the world. the guy is
a phenomenon.

he's an artist who makes the art look easy. just get up there and talk. yeah.

amazing.

fucker.

i'll be home in two weeks.i believe i will sleep forever.

i am going to go to burke-williams and stand underneath one of their
showers that blasts hot water. i shall stand underneath it for seven
or eight hours, i think.

then, i will go have a cup of coffee wth whatever change i have left
over from this trip.

rock on. fuckers.
 
Tuesday, August 17, 2004
  i tried
i really did try. i gave it a shot. i'm no world traveller.

maybe if i wasn't living like a college student i would enjoy this
more. probably not. i guess i'm just spoiled. my knees hurt from
walking. i've found paracetamol, a fairly strong over the counter
painkiller, and that helps some.

i took a vicodin and that is nice. i could be on friends...

it was so fucking beautiful this morning. then, right before our show
it began raining.

after the show i walked the seven million miles to the office to copy
the great reviews. it began shitting rain. umbrellas are usually great
and mine kept my head dry at least.

the 4 stars in the scotsman has helped already. we nearly sold out
today. 70 tickets sold. pretty fucking awesome.

we're going to do the fred macauly show tomorrow. it's a bbc radio
comedy thing or something.

david burns said that he's gotten confirmation for two more
high-profile critics to come to the show. apparently, we are now in a
position to do a little tour of europe with the show, based on the
reviews.

yeah. that sounds like loads of fun.

all of this is great. i would still like to go home, though. soon
enough. and, i'm sure i'll be nostalgic for this place as soon as i'm
in my first traffic jam in l.a.

victor killed today. he's always at a level of great, but today he
really stepped up and knocked it out of the park.

i avoid the flat. or. i just stay there and sleep.

bring on the zoloft, fuckers.

wife. wife. wife. i miss my wife. fuck, man. i'm glad she's not here
to see me like this.

okay. only 13 more days or something.
 
  nice things
people saying nice things

http://www.edfringe.com/reviews/read.html?id=NIGER


 
  4 of 5
4 of 5 stars in the scotsman. that is fucking great.

http://www.edinburgh-festivals.com/reviews.cfm?id=948712004

the review isn't actually a review, though, and that is fucking weird.
it's just a retelling of the show. no criticism either way.

no one reads that shit anyway and 4 stars will help fill seats.

it had better.

beautiful day today. i'm sure sleet will be falling by the end of the day.

bring on the zoloft!
 
Monday, August 16, 2004
  weird
after two of the most beautiful days, ever, it's raining. odd. isn't
that odd how it will just begin raining?

quaint.

by the way, everyone hates americans here. all the stand-up comics
make jokes about americans. it's an easy laugh. we're the pollock
jokes.

i went on at "spank" a late, late, late-night club, with the pc
cowboys last night. some scottish cunt began heckling us. just because
we're fucking american. he was going on about invading and taking shit
over.

ass.

provenz' got up later and said some wonderful and amazing things. the
main point being that everyone has an american friend, so we're not
that bad, right?

american jokes are the dick jokes of the uk stand-up.

i took laundry in. it will be nice to pay six million dollars for some
clean shirts, underwear and socks.

i'm having a meeting tuesday with the p.r. guy and the producers
regarding the show. there have been a lot more critics in, if the
reviews are anything at all like the two that are out now, we should
be able to sell out the rest of the festival. it's only 14 more days.

but who is counting, really?

oh, it might be me... perhaps.

i'm having a blast playing with the pc cowboys. now i know the songs
and am having fun, musically, with them. here's hoping they don't want
me to de-busy some of the parts i'm playing.

victor and i are having a blast doing the show. we keep reminding
ourselves that we're spoiled by the audiences here. back home, it's
going to be a fight trying to get butts in seats. it's a fight here,
but 25 people is a LOT in l.a.

went to see dan antopolski's show last night. i think he might have
been having an off night. he sure is smart and quick. plus, no
"americans sure are stupid and violent" jokes.

except for those ones about guns.

interesting to see that perspective; that we're all gun crazy. the
idea that it's nice to be able to defend yourself... ah never fucking
mind.

only 14 days left.

"would you like some..."

"NO NO NO!!! A THOUSAND TIMES NO!!!"
 
Sunday, August 15, 2004
  i want to go home
i'm tired of walking.

i'm tired of how fucking expensive everything is.

i'm tired of fliering all by myself.

i'm tired of the shitty coffee.

i'm tired of my unpredictable sleep patterns.

i'm tired of the faint smell of shit in every enclosed space.

i'm tired of the low water pressure.

i'm tired of all the coins.

i'm tired of all the fucking drunkards and smoking.

i'm tired of the stairs. stairs. stairs. stairs.

i'm tired of people answering every single question i have with
another question. to wit:

"is there an atm nearby?" "do you need to get some cash?"

i'm tired of my constant ballsweat and b.o.

i'm tired of being a stick in the mud curmudgeon.

i'm tired of hating myself.
 
  review II - electric boogaloo
muuuuch better!!!

http://www.thestage.co.uk/edinburgh/reviews/review.php/3618


Urgent and Confidential - Dean Cameron's Nigerian Spam Scam Scam
Let's not mince words here, Cameron has created an absolutely brilliant show.

First stroke of genius is the concept. Cameron responded to those
emails written IN CAPITAL LETTERS purporting to be from some
dispossessed Nigerian society type desperate for you to lend them a
large amount of money so that they, in turn, can rescue an even larger
amount of their money that has been confiscated. In return you will
receive a healthy percentage of this bigger amount of money.

On receiving this, Cameron adopted the disguise of a batty, ultra-camp
American real estate dealer with more money than sense and a couple of
pampered pussycats and struck up a correspondence. The show consists
almost entirely of this correspondence being narrated.

And that is where the second stroke of genius comes in. The show is a
masterclass in comedy writing. Cameron's character is unbelievably
insane but not to the Nigerian scam master who responds with the
beautifully deadpan nature of the perfect stooge. Isaacs plays the
various Nigerian characters - the third stroke of genius being the
presentation of this Fringe gem.

Jeremy Austin
 
  first review
not so great, but fine:

http://www.chortle.co.uk/edfest2004/edshows.html?http&&&www.chortle.co.uk/edfest2004/deancam.html

*** of *****

Review
It's the type of time-sapping spam every inbox endures: the plea from
the relatives of some recently dead Nigerian bigwig, wanting to
smuggle millions out of the country with your help, and promising you
a sizeable commission in return

No one would ever reply to such an obvious con, with the very real
risk of having a bank account drained, would they? Well actor and
comic Dean Cameron did. But only to take the piss.

Adopted the guise of a camp, lonely old millionaire living in Florida
with a Filipino houseboy his two cats, Mr Snickers and Joe Joe The
Dancing Clown, Cameron stretched out the communication over 11 months,
always dangling the promise of money, but parting with no more than $4
to an increasingly frustrated scammer.

The result was a diverting website (www.spamscamscam.com) now made
into this hour-long show. And for something comprising little more
than the verbatim exchange of emails, the live version is surprisingly
entertaining, too.

It's Cameron's alter-ego that takes the credit, gradually becoming
more stupidly unpredictable as the correspondence continues,
increasingly revealing bizarre little details of his life, from his
spastic colon to the chintzy décor he favours. The breathless missives
impishly tease with deliberately silly misspellings and creative stabs
at the Nigerians' names ­ indeed, he seems to think they are Mexican
most the time.

He leads the crooks a merry little dance, professing his love for the
widow, getting a pal to call from the agreed meeting place in
Amsterdam and ­ a brilliant wheeze this ­ playing them off against
another conman who spammed him. Their unsubtle response is hilarious.

The Nigerians act as the perfect straight men to Cameron, sleazy
international crime gangs not being known for their sense of humour.
Occasionally the correspondence comes out of hyperspace, and the mix
of bewilderment and frustration in the phone calls as they try to
extract their money from a man more obsessed with his feline
companions is a delight. That this whole prank serves as a comeuppance
of sorts is a bonus.

Cameron's a slick performer, as is his supporting actor Victor Isaac,
but even they cannot overcome the show's only real problem: that even
at a little over 50 minutes, it feels too long. The practical joke may
be excellent, but it is just the one joke, not quite enough to sustain
the duration, despite the best efforts to jazz it up.

Nonetheless, it's an engaging, witty tale, offering something a little
different from the norm.
 
Saturday, August 14, 2004
  fucking sellout
it is the most beautiful day yet. man, it's fucking beautiful. i think
the weather here is similar to hitting yourself in the head with a
hammer for a long time so when the pain stops, you think that life is
lovely. that's the weather here, maybe...

i've learned to wear one fewer piece of clothing than i think i
should. i look out the window and think "shirt, sweater, jacket" then
subtract the jacket and i'm i'm fine.

because walking the previously quaint and fun 15 minutes to the
theater is no longer quaint and fun. it's just fucking 15 minutes.

a few years ago, i was at a bbq where some hippie was talking about
how great it would be to live in france. "wouldn't it be great to ride
your bike down to the corner store every morning for croissants?"

no. it would be nice to have that choice, which we do in the u.s. but
to HAVE to do that, rain/shine/sick/sad/amputated would suck armenian
balls.

so, this 15 minute walk is now tiring (yes, i'm griping... it gets
better. shut up) and not as interesting as it used to be.

i get to the pleasance courtyard where our theater is. the courtyard
is the hub... a, well, courtyard, where everyone congregates. other
shows... the ones who have people handing out fliers, they are handing
out fliers. and there are two bars and some press booths and it's
always abuzz with activity.

there is a big board that says "these shows are sold out today"

i check the board every day to see if we've sold out. i looked at it
again today and saw that we weren't.. quite bummed. i looked around
and see that, once again, no on is handing out fliers... i glacne back
at the board... wait a moment...

at the top.

we were sold out. "urgent & confidential". so excited. we sold out.
fuck yes. called victor. he said "that doesn't suck"

i took some pictures of the board(and the courtyard) and will have
them up at some point.

needless to say, we had a great show. WE CHECKED EVERYTHING before we
began today. great audience... really in to it. we even had people
standing in the back. that's a good feeling.

i've found a couple of more places to break the wall and enjoy the
correspondence with the audience. it's quite fun.

(i love saying "nice one" when someone sneezes instead of "bless you",
it's so much more iteresting.)

anil usually shows up after we begin, so it's always a surprise when
he enters. i'm always mentally prepared to read the letter myself.

it's pretty nifty.

what's nice is that we sold out and there have been no reviews. if we
get good reviews, it's only going to help sales and we can sell out
even more.

as a celebration, victor and i went and had great indian food aroudn
the corner from the flat.

speaking of flat. none of the women here are. it's boobs-a-poppin'

victor is doign stand-up tonight. i think i'll heckle him. that woudl be funny.

i am going to take a nap. it is so sunny and beautiful. what better
way to celebrate than to sleep through it?!

oh

a woman wot provenz' knows from the bbc came to the shoe today and
chatted with me afterwards about doing a one-off on "the beeb". that,
as victor says, wouldn't suck.

that is all.
 
  Word of the day
I subscribe to the merriam-webster word of the day.

This is today's word of the day:

The Word of the Day for Aug 14 is:
xenophobia \zen-uh-FOH-bee-uh\ noun

: fear and hatred of strangers or foreigners or of anything that is
strange or foreign


Example sentence:
I always thought it was odd that Gene, whose xenophobia precluded travel
beyond the state border, chose to become a travel agent.

Did you know?
If you look back to the ancient Greek terms that underlie the word
"xenophobia," you'll discover that xenophobic individuals are literally
"stranger fearing." "Xenophobia," that elegant-sounding name for an
aversion to persons unfamiliar, ultimately derives from two Greek terms:
"xenos," which can be translated as either "stranger" or "guest," and
"phobos," which means either "fear" or "flight." "Phobos" is the
ultimate source of all English "-phobia" terms, but many of those were
actually coined in English or New Latin using the combining form
"-phobia" (which traces back to "phobos"). "Xenophobia" itself came to
us by way of New Latin and first appeared in print in English in 1903.

*Indicates the sense illustrated in the example sentence.



 
Friday, August 13, 2004
  make a note:
before the show, look at the fucking curtain to see if the projector
is actually projecting...

learned a nice lesson today.

first big technical fuck up today. about midway through my intro, i
realized that my powerpoint slides weren't being projected.

i fumbled a bit, which sucks because i have finally! committed the
intro to memory and was really excited about it today, and then calmly
aksed becky, our producer to get a tech guy in to fix the projector...

we continued on without slides for a bit. a couple minutes in, two
tech guys came in and we stopped the show. i stepped out front and
told a stupid joke:

guy walked up and said "hey, can i have some money for a cup of coffee?"

i said, "sure, how much"

he said "1000 pounds"

i said "1000 pounds, why so much"

he said "cause i wanna drink it in New york!"

thank you... i'll be here all month...

then i talked about how this was all actually part of the show and it
was very dada...

then they couldn't get it fixed, so i turned the computer around and
told the audience they'd just have to look at the stuff on the
screen... it would be like they were in my living room.

they seemed to go along with it... it's the fringe fest, right?

so, we sort of had to do some work to get 'em back after that, but the
show went quite well.

the big news is that it's the most beautiful sunny day outside now.
not a cloud in the sky. and it's not too hot. so. i'm going to go
outside.

no one is flyering for our show. i'm the only one out there with
flyers and it sucks. there are no posters and no flyers and it bums me
out.

we're getting good crowds, but i think we could do better if there
were people handing out fucking fliers. fuckers...

that is all.

no, i am having a blast. this is great.

i'm going to go sit in the park now.

the pc cowboys got 3 stars in the scotsman.

still waiting for our reviews.
 
Thursday, August 12, 2004
  the big shoe
great show today. anil didn't show up, he's been sick, so i read
through the abayomi letter.. sorta stumbled through it.

the great moment in the show today was when i realized that i was
reading from the WRONG fucking script and surreptitiously opened the
correct script. i also noticed that the power strip for the projector
computer hadn't been switched on and, not knowing when the thing was
going to die, leaned over and switched it on.

great show, though, despite my fuck-ups. now that we know what we're
saying, we can play. and we are. there's a nice moment after one of
victor's great speeches, where i look over at him, impressed, and he
acknowledges it. it's a good little bit.

provenz' gave me some great stuff to do which helps me connect with
the audience, too. stand-up comics know this shit.

last night, i saw a duo called "flight of the conchords". it is two
guys from new zealand singing funny songs. it's so much more than
that. they are fucking great. soft spoken and understated with really
amazing takes on things. they are what that fucking crap known as
tenacious d. wishes it was. it's tenacious d. with cleverness,
subtlety, brains and joy. man, they're great.

i finally figured out (JE SUIS FUCKING AMERICAIN) how to dial the u.s.
from a payphone using a phone card. talked to my lovely wife. so nice.
she rules. i miss her.

hi jessie. i love you.

last night, because flight of the conchords were doing an encore, i
arrived at the pc cowboys show literally one minute before they went
on stage and was trying to catch up during the entire show. there is a
song, "mary", which i already have some fucking mental block with,
that i was able to fuck up completely. i managed to miss EACH AND
EVERY change. remarkable and nearly superhuman.

our rep from edcom4 was out today with a bad back. she went to a
chiroquackter. here's hoping they didn't break her neck or cripple
her.

flee, one of the big muckety mucks from edcom4 was there today and saw
the show. glad she got to see it today, as it was a good un.

i realize now that i am in a complete fantasyland. totally
self-focused. i am j-lo.

what i say goes. what i say is right. what i say is true.

i'll be in my trailer when you're ready to apologize.

victor and i took "action shots" of each other and i just sent them
off to the critic from the independent. i got the feeling from talking
to him that the review will be a good one.

it would be really funny if he talked to us all that time afterwards
and had me send him photos just so he could write the most intense pan
in the history of theatrical criticism.

went to see adam bloom last night.he's a brit comic. he expends more
energy than i've ever had. great fun and really fucking funny. one of
those people who are just funny. great take on the "fcuk" phenomenon
and had some great self-deprecating moments regarding past acts of
his. very cool.

that is all.

rock.
 
  Weird!

This is weird: it's raining!

My friend, Corey, sent me a link to some "citizen reviews".

Pretty nifty:

http://www.edfringe.com/reviews/read.html?id=NIGER

Rock!


 
Wednesday, August 11, 2004
  tremendo
okay.
okay.
okay.

we have liftoff.

we have a tremendous script. provenz' was right. i was wrong.

great pc cowboys show last night. great. i feel like i'm actually part
of the shoe now, instead of fucking shit up. getting some laughs.
they're really funny and their audience is growing, ass well.

our show today kicked ass. great house. when victor and i have some
time with the script, we get to relax and play and have fun and we did
that today.

we're now finding stuff and it's only going to get better.

by the way, if you're reading this and you think i'm complaining. eat
me. i'm having a fine time. the initial adjustment was annoying, but i
hate change and that's to be expected.

i'm here and i'm dealing with it. i miss my wife and my friends. so would you.

after the show, the critic from the independent chatted with us for
1/2 an hour. he wrote a bunch of stuff down and was really, really
interested in the show and us.

i have to send him photos.

we're now waiting for reviews. if they're good, it will push things
over the top where we need them.

the big thing at the end of this festival is the perrier award. we
were informed today that reps have come to see the show. it wouldn't
suck to be nominated.

it is so nice to be stress-free about the script. this is going to be
a blast from now on.

the weather has cooled a bit.. not too much, but it's not oppresively
hot in the theaters now.

i have my room back so i'll be able to stretch and work out a bit
again. that will be good. man, sleeping on a couch makes an old man
like me walk like an older man in the morning.

we're here 19 more days. 2.5 weeks.

i miss my wife. fuck.
 
  closing in...
i miss jessie. i miss her. my wife. i miss her.

we had a rewrite yesterday, but victor and i felt that doing it
without a rehassle would be not a good thing, so we did the script
we'd done the day before.

it went great. we had a great audience of nearly 40; not the sellout
we are always hoping for, but quite good....

it's nice to be familiar with the script, which i suppose goes without
saying. provenz' was pissed about it, but what the fuck.

before hand, i took my clothes to a laundry here and they cleaned my
dirty, sweaty clothes. it's nice to be wearing clean, dry clothes.
they don't have a drier in the flat, but i've learned from victor that
claire's place has a drier.

good to fucking know.

the night before, i'd gotten an email from peter varano saying that it
was possible that i'd need to go back and do more v.o. for hyundai.
there was really no way to confirm because of the time difference, so
after the big shoe, i called the studio and aksed if they'd heard from
hyundai.

dad and i took a taxi over there just in case and on the way, the
woman from the ad agency called me on my uk phone and confirmed that
they'd need me. i had to say "$2500" instead of "$2000". for two
spots.

that pays for a couple of weeks of food. plus the money that colin
sent via paypal.

alistair, the owner of the studio, recommended a seafood place as my
dad wanted to take me out to a nice place and he wanted seafood.

went back to the flat and argued with provenz'. after reading the
rewrite, victor and i weren't convinced that it was better and said
so. we wanted to read through it and provenz' kept arguing his point,
which made no difference to me as i just wanted to read through the
script to see how it went.

so we read through it and it seems better, so we'll be doing it today.
all we wanted was a rehassle... is that so wrong?

i do hope that this is the last fucking rewrite. it's nice to be
familiar with the script.

the lighting guy, ad, seems weary of all the changes, too.

went to the seafood place and it was fine. dad had wanted scallops and
they said they were out. dad made a charming stink and the guy came
back and said that they had three left and they'd serve him those.

went home and changed in to the "manure mover" shirt that my dad gave
me. went to the pc cowboys gig.

i'm feeling more comfortable with their songs and not screwing their
shit up. i'm wearing the nigerian hat and some sunglasses and they
introduce me as ibrahim abacha who they met on the internet and are
letting me play with them as i've promised them 10% of 30 million
dollars.

i do two bass solos which go over really well. the solos consist of me
playing quarter note root chord tones but acting like i'm playing
something much, much, much more difficult.

each night, their crowds get better and they relax a bit more. last
night the critic from the scotsman, the ny times of the festival, was
there. here's hoping that she liked the shoe.

i snuck in to late and live, the late night stand up nuttiness. it
wasn't that funny or that nutty, so i came home.

it's 10:30 and dad just left. i got a bit teary as he sped away in his
taxi. i don't like it when people leave. it's no damned good.

must get the new script printed out.

onward!
 
Tuesday, August 10, 2004
  re-rewriting
i believe the live may have been rewritten out of the script. we'll
find out today, won't we?

i feel an unease going in today.
 
Monday, August 09, 2004
  rock
We had about sixty people today. A monday and it's pouring rain.
Everyone is fucking thrilled about this show.

at some point, they'll put up the posters like they should have a week
ago... ah well..

the show was a bit off. it was hard to hear with the rain on the tin
roof. i think we've changed the script too much... provenz' is making
more changes right now.

we'll get to stuff and stumble over it and then get angry at ourselves
for stumbling over it. it shouldn't be this difficult. we've done this
before and i think the script is in a great place.

there is too much second guessing. we've added stuff that is not
authentic and i don't like that. it's "jokey" and base and it bums me
out.

i don't want to change the script anymore.

peoples love the show. we hang out outside afterwards and they really
fucking enjoy it. go figure.

dad is here and is having a blast. he has more energy than me and is
far more outgoing. amazing.

i am tired of walking. it is now boring. i would like to drive,
please. i can't believe i'm saying that. my feet hurt. okay?

i did six spots for hyundai today. that pays for the plane tickets.

we've changed the script too much.

i'm having a blast with the pc cowboys. i'm wearing the nigerian hat
tonight. that should kill pretty well. they introduce me as ibrahim
abacha from nigeria. they let me play with them because i'm going to
give them 10% of 30 million dollars. it's pretty funny. i do two bass
solos. one is just doing a bullshit hammer for 12 bars. the other is
playing the root notes the entire time.

fun.

i will sit and suddenly sleep grabs me and says "okay. let's fucking
go, fucker."

i want to be able to relax a bit and printing a new script each
morning. burning disks and loading them on to the machine bums me out.

this will be the final change.
 
Sunday, August 08, 2004
  holy fucking tired, batman
my feet hurt from walking. i've got a case of exhausted. i need a sherpa.

the show almost sold out today. only one comp. all word of mouth.

we've never had fewer than 25 in our audience and today we had nearly 70.

the average audience size for a show at the festival is 6.

six.

the average is six.

if we have a few more days of 70 or so, we can then stop and still be
above average.

that's me; always trying to figure a way to do the very, very least.

the show today was not quite as good as yesterday's, performance-wise,
yet we're getting the looseness in the tightness that is so important.

i am nodding off to sleep. must sleep.

at some point, i will write more.

i'm doing a radio interview for some big radio show 8 hours. i should
go to sleep.

also. it is fucking hot here. whoever said that it was going to be
cold is a dickhead. i am a billion times lighter because of the
fucking non-stop sweating. i smell like someone who smells bad.

all provenz' and i do is rewrite the script. make it stop.
 
  long days journey into sleep
okay. it seems that the fringe has begun and i will not be sleeping
until i return to the states.

oh, this is a cool thing: provenz' did an edit to the phone call
yesterday before the show and i burned a new cd for the sound folk.

because i am a self-sabotaging dickweed, i left the cd on the table in my room.

with less than 10 minutes to showtime, i discovered my little
self-sabotaging manuever. instead of panicking too much, i aksed if
there was a way to get a blank cd. one of the heros on our crew
scampered out and returned about 5 minutes later with a blank.

i simply burned a new cd and handed that off to them with less than 30
seconds to go before showtime. technology is our friend, people.

so... yesterday.

i'd wanted to go see anil's show. anil is the fellow playing 'donald
abayomi' in our shoe. before we left, victor let me know that anil
said that it would be better if we'd waited, so i crashed like a log
on my bed while my dad read. at 5 past 8, dad woke me up and we made a
mad dash for the theater/pub where kieran and michelle, two of our
flat-mates were performing kieran's show, 'kismet'.

we didn't have time to say hi afterwards and dashed back to the flat
so i could get my bass and head to the pc cowboys' shoe.

there is a thing called 'tattoo' here. it's some military music thinng
that is way popular and some sort of old tradition... regardless, the
street we walked down to get to the 'royal mile' where k&m were
performign was lousy with old people tour buses. man, it was old
tourists shuffling along and standing in lines as far as the eye could
see. man. kill me. good for them, but fucking kill me. 'look over
here. now look over here. now back on the bus before we die!'

dashed over to the guilded balloon venue where the pc cowboys are
playing. it is hot and muggy while still being a bit cold. go figure.
but once you get inside a building the temperature rises by a million
or two degrees (celsius) and it is overwhelming.

i ran through the songs with the guys in the dressing room. it's
basically c&w with 1,4, 5 variations in the easy keys, e a c and g.
(not minor, i'm just lazy) the guys are from texas, so they're really
sweet and supportive and i wasn't nervous or anything before we began.

none of us have amps, so we're all plugged in to direct boxes. i set
up behind them in a postion i could see the guitar playaz' hands.

the venue is huge. maybe 200 seats. i'm sure by the end they'll get a
huge audience and the shows will be packed. at this point, there are
about 40 or so in the audience and they're either way into it or very
confused.

the shoe went great. i clammed a bit, of course, that's what i do, but
i followed along nicely and played fucking c&w. at one point i did a
bass solo. instead of trying to do a solo, i just did a hammeron for
12 bars. it went over quite well.

afterwards i saw another singer/songwriter perform. it was a show. a
sort of 'evening with...' thing. man, when i see paul simon or james
taylor do that sort of stuff i find it a bit annoying and they're
great songwriters. when a guy who writes lousy songs does it, it's
unbearable, though it did give me an idea for a show. though the show
would be very artaud theater of cruelty. the show was like being
trapped in a bar with a drunk, self-centered irish guy spilling his
guts in the most self-conscious way. as if his priest told him he had
to.

then i got to see some comics do stand-up. i have a crush on every
stand-up in the world. they are great, though...

there is a lot of preaching to the choir as far as the politics go.
yeah, we know bush sucks donkey balls. okay. no one seems aware that
kerry has his mouth around that same donkey's cock.

got to see provenz' do his stuff. he's a fucking pro. man. he does a
whole bit on religion that is so beautiful. great. he also did this
wonderful bit that pissed off the audience. a guy started shouting at
him and provenz' just overpowered him with this rage and passion.
fuck. it was so sexy and great.

saw reginald d. hunter. the guy is a superstar. i don't know how these
guys do it.

all of this political comedy is making me think about this.
environmentalism has taken the place of religion. it fills the same
space in our lives as religion once did.

that is all for today.

rock on.
 
Saturday, August 07, 2004
  Killed dead

After yesterday's show, provenz' and I sat and made a bunch of cuts and
moved some of the letters around. Getting the show tight, tight, tight.

Today. Killed. Fucking killed.

We had a great house. Perhaps 30 or so people. Man, it was great.

One of Provenz' notes for me was to allow the actual me to come out
occasionally connect with the audience so it's more like I'm having
friends over and telling them about this thing I've done.

My dad is here. It's great because he's paying for all of my meals and
that's a delight. ESPECIALLY, because the dollar is worth 50 fucking
cents. He liked the show and is so sweet and everyone loves him.

I had neglected to get a new script printed for the poor lighting guy,
so he had to try and figure out just when the lighting cues were. He did
a fantastic job. I think the crew likes us and that helps a lot.

But man, we had a killer show today. There may be a couple other cuts we
can make, but I think we're now there and can concentrate on having fun
and killing from now on.

"how'd your show go?"

"were you there?"

"no"

"killed"





 
Friday, August 06, 2004
  tired

How fucking tired am I?

I believe that it is possible that someone has stolen my camera.

I will reserve judgement on that until the time comes when I return to
the USA without a camera.

I am tired. More later.

Obviously.


 
Thursday, August 05, 2004
  Show II - Electric Boogaloo


Big house, though it was mainly "papered", but a larger audience than
yesterday. There is, apparently, good word of mouth and that is what
makes a show here.

We're figuring out the foreign audience. Getting a little conflicting
direction, but I believe that we're just going to barrel through shit
and not wait. Let them make us hold for laughs, we have a job to do.

The courtyard of the pleasance is filling up. It's going to be nuts.
Each producer has their little minions of flyer people out handing out
flyers saying that their show is the best and funniest show ever. It is
a mad contest to see who gets the Perrier award and a good review in the
Scotsman.

I finally got my fliers today after the show. We will now be pimping the
big shoe like pimpy pimps. There are three posters up in the entire
courtyard. That is not good 'tall. Provenz' and I trekked to the office
today to get more fliers and gently needle them about the posters.

I'm doing an interview for some radio program (programme) Monday
morning. That will be nifty!

The big news is that my amazing wife, Jessie, sent me a care package.

3 packages of tuna salad kits
2 enormous bags of homemade chocolate chip cookies
1 movie sized box of Hot Tamale candy
at least a dozen balance bars
Two big packages of turkey jerky (it's good)

Wow. She's going to get a spanking when I get home.

It is hot today. Not Scottish hot. Actual heat. Pretty cool-o.

Rock!


 
Wednesday, August 04, 2004
  streaky

It's "Streaky Bacon" not "Sticky Bacon".

Just so's you know...

Slept like a happy log for a long time. Woke up about 9pm and chatted
with the most awesome Victor for a few minutes. I then left to find food
and did. Found Provenz' and Claire at an Indian restaurant.

Apparently, we're stuck with the 700 pound projector. But there will be
some maneuvering and I won't have to pay for the fucking thing.
Fuckwads.

Claire's british politeness has been wearing on me; I find myself saying
"no" over and over and over and, because I'm a nut, it makes me feel
weird, so I finally told her that if I wanted anything, I would aks her
for it, she didn't need to continue to offer me anything. So that's
great and very cool.

I realized that "we are the world" should play at the end of the show
and enlisted colin's help from l.a. to get it to me. I wanted to
download it legally. Also playing the thornbird's "internet x-plorer" at
the top of the show. "... I think I'm falling in love with my computer
screen..." is a great line to begin the show on.

Went to see a show after dinner. Steve Hughes. He was quite great.
Aussie comic doing some great political stuff with a minimal amount of
stuff that bummed me out, but there will always be that... Stand-up
comics are so amazing. They are mystifying to me. He's a friend of
Provenz' so we chatted a bit with him afterwards.

Also saw the besieged tech girl, Becky, at his show and thanked her for
doing such a great job at the last minute.

Provenz' used Security Edition in his act last year and Steve remembered
it. Pretty cool.

This thing is happening wot happened during Hollywood Palms. The split
between the part of me who wants to be left alone and the part of me who
is so fucking in love with himself. The show came out of me and letting
it out into the world and getting attention is so seductive. Attention,
attention, attention.

It's been so long since I've had attention for being "an entertainer".
In the thornbirds I'm the bass player and off to the side and feel like
I'm sort of "tolerated" by the audience but this comes from "my loins"
and, you know, putting my name in the title wasn't an accident. I want
people to know it's "mine". It's been a long time since I've been
"Number one on the call sheet."

So there's this thing that feels like a beast in me. This ego. This
attention hungry little kid who wants everyone to say "YOU'RE GREAT!
YOU'RE THE BEST!! WE ALL LOVE YOU BECAUSE YOU'RE THE BEST AND GREAT!!!"
I want all conversations to be about me, yet I'm embarassed and feel
stupid when someone talks about the show.

"Hey, look at me, everyone!!!" and then feeling silly when they do.

I'm a fuckin' nut.

I also feel like Burgess Meredith in that twilight zone where he wants
to be alone.

This is a blast. A wonderful adventure.

I look forward to getting back to my wife and the real world.

Tomorrow we do another big shoe.

The good news is that I'm going to do a v.o. gig here on Monday. Hyundai
likes what I've been doing, I guess.

Sleepy time, fuckers!





 
  Were you there...


...killed

that's the short version. we did it. we kicked scottish comedy festival
ass...

in my correspondence with the producer of the show for the last couple
of months, i stated over and over all i need is "a projector for a
powerpoint presentation and two stands that we can put laptops on. two
music stands that will flatten out will be perfect."

you know. yeah. neither.

i was mentally prepared to have nothing go right. so when they said
"well, we'll be getting a projector in the next couple of days..." i was
resigned to not having a projector.

a guy there said he could get us a projector for today's show. then
Anil, who is playing dr. doctor abayomi, mentioned that the other show
he's doign uses a projector.

so, we got the first guy's projector.

then he dropped the money bomb. "A festival fee of 700 pounds" that's
1400 bucks. 1400 motherfucking dollars.

If i knew that i was going to have to pay for projector rental, i
would've bought one. so then Anil talked to the other folks and arranged
for us to get the projector for free.

so go fuck your "festival fee" you fuckwad.

during this, the superhuman claire, went and picked up the projector.
amazing. she saved our ass.

they had been scrambling for stools for us to put the computers on. they
were too low, but again, i'd resigned myself to nothign being right the
first day. claire said "if everything were perfect, what would be here?"
i said "two music stands that we could put the computers on."

"right"

about 20 minutes later, "can-do claire" shows up with two music stands.
they didn't bend, but we taped the computers to them.

we'd been doing "tech" during all of this. the poor girl who was running
the board had never done it before and wasn't used to the old school
board. but, she stuck with it and we finished tech with about 20 minutes
to spare.

claire brought us sandwiches and tea and we ran Anil through his stuff.
he's a pro so he wasn't worried. neither were we.

we'd sold a pantsload of tickets. 25. unheard of for a preview. 10
people from london had seen the article in the times and bought tickets.


that's the kind of spontaneous publicity i need to get ahead!

victor had some glitches. i had some glitches. and after a few pages, we
began to relax into the script and began rocking it.

i need to be comfortable at the top with the narration and then i think
things will breathe a bit more.

but the show fucking killed. the two phone calls worked. provenz' was
right. i was wrong. it wasn't too long.

we also need to leave room for laughs, though that can be dicey. you
leave that space, no one laughs, you're a dickhead.

i have to track down jon and get the music stand situation squared away
because we lose the two we have on friday.

dad arrives friday. that will be cool.

we were standing for about 4 hours. i'm am exhausted.

only 25 more shows!

holy balls.

must sleep.

must fucking sleep.

i need to be alone. communal living is not for me.

rock.

killed...

we killed...


 
  By the time you read this...


... i will be dead...

Or not.

We're leaving for the venue now. We'll do tech for a few hours and then
perform our first preview.

I've prepared myself that it's quite possible that they won't have what
I need to use the projector. If that's the case then that's the case and
we'll figure something out but I've made a promise to myself that I
won't let it fuck me up.

Hmmm...

I am now officially having a great time.

This is fucking exciting, peeps.


 
Tuesday, August 03, 2004
  Tomorrow, tomorrow...

It's provenz' world, we just live in it...

Provenz' arrived so he could make some cuts on the script and do some
audio editing of the phone calls and work with me and victor.

He won't be around for tech or preview, which is tomorrow, because he
has a stand-up gig somewhere. Balls. I hate telling people what to do
from stage, so I'm not looking forward to doing tech.

We made a bunch of cuts on the script yesterday and got it down to
fighting weight. I think it's nearly perfect. There are two phone calls
and I would bet that one of them will be cut by the time we leave
Scotland. But, we'll be in previews and that's what previews are for.

The communal aspect to the flats got to me a bit yesterday and I found
myself getting cranky. I also get SUPER tired around 2pm and MUST sleep.
Provenz', victor and I went in to my room and provenz' made more cuts
and I stole a nap. We read through the script and it gave me hope.

We cut a bunch of slides from the powerpoint thing and that's good. I
wasn't sure I wanted them and having provenz' say "no" was just what the
doctah ordered.

I broke down and went and had indian food for lunch. It was 5 pounds and
was fucking yummy. I felt fed for the first time since I've been here. I
kicked caffeine last year but there seems to be no caffeine free stuff
readily available (hi, free market!) so I've been drinking the odd diet
coke.

Last night we went to Negotiant's, a restaurant which was,
coincidentally, recommended by our friend Mark McLain Wilson. IT RULED!
I HAD A FANTASTIC CHICKEN BURGER AND FRIES!!!! I also had a latte that
approximated a good cup a joe. We met up with Anil, who will be reading
the Donald Abayomi letter. He had tested for Ajay's pilot this year.

Provenz' and I sat at the table and made more cuts on his mac which
crashes a lot. Who says macs are stable?

About six other comedians provenz' knew showed up. I feel a bit
intimidated. I have such respect for good stand-ups. They are revealing
all and teaching and they don't have some bullshit they're filtering it
through (if it's done right) and beign around them makes me feel like
I'm an imposter. One of the guys, whose name I'll learn someday, was
really, really cool and we got along great, though it was difficult
hearing him because of the drunken conversation about ACTING Victor and
Anil were having.

I hate drunken conversations and I hate talking about acting, so when
the two collide, it makes my skin crawl. Seriously. It's just the most
pointless conversation and being drunk when you're having it makes it
even more pointless. Oy.

We had to leave.

About 1am, we left, Provenz' and I leading the way while Anil and Victor
compared acting in film to acting on stage. Fascinating. Scintillating.

We got back to my room and set all the crap up. Anil is great great
great and is going to rock. Having someone there who didn't know
anything about it was great for us. It bumped up the performance a bit
and gave us all some comfort, I think. One forgets that one has
something that's actually good and funny. And this is good and funny.

It may be one phone call too long, but it sure is good.

Anil left after his bit and Provenz', victor and I went through it beat
by beat, making it even better and more specific and reminding us about
beats we'd forgotten.

We tech tomorrow from 12-2:59 and do our first show at 3. Holy balls.
Holly dog balls.



 
Monday, August 02, 2004
  College students

I never went to college, though I did spend my first four months in a
one bedroom apartment with 3 other guys when I first moved to l.a. and
*they* were going to college.

It's very college here. Two apartments on the same floor with unlocked
doors. Claire's place is pretty much where everyone congregates to make
plans and just sit and chat. There is broadband here and a router so
everyone checks email here as well.

Yesterday, I had jetlag and excitement crash around noon and went into a
coma until around 3, I think. Then we took a cab to some park where
there were men in kilts playing big band jazz. We hung on the lawn.
Victor and I had on sweaters, jackets and knit caps while everyone else
ran around in shorts and t-shirts. JE SUIS AMERICAIN! It was fucking
cold, people.

Tomas, a czech fellow wandered over to our group and bummed a cigarette
from provenz'. Everyone got to talking and he and two fellow eastern
european girls, lucie and melissa? and our group all headed back here.
Wine, bbq, cake. It was simon's birthday.

I had my first good food. Two great pieces of chicken grilled out in the
back yard. Man, it was fucking good!!!! Tomas made it.

There are so many people on this floor. I'm not sure of names. Roman(?)
is french, I think and tests games on mobile phones. There's a quiet
canadian girl who never talks. There's some other girl who is an
outdoors type but is laid up with a knee injury or something. She is
from england maybe.

Two other people arrived last night. They're staying in the apartment
with me, victor and simon. They've been in germany performing and are
here to perform in the festival as well.

Had a nice chat with provenz' about the show and plans for it, etc. He's
much more confident than I am. I skew uptight, and he skews loosey
goosey, so somewhere in the middle we shall meet and explode. We're
running through the show today. He's made some changes. I hope they're
good. He cut the phone call in to two parts. It's really funny. I don't
know when or how we'll work that in.

Christian Slater is doing 'one flew over the cukoo's nest' here. How
funny is that.

My dad's supposed to come this week. I don't know how much he'll enjoy
it.

There is no 1/2 & 1/2 on the continent. That makes coffee drinking, um,
problematic. Ah well.

I'm feeling stick-in-the-mud-ish. Everyone's plowed with wine and I'm
not. They're all very sweet and it isn't that horrible drunkeness that
happens with people in the states, but I just feel a bit alienated.

I'm nervous about the show and I want it to be good, but I need to relax
and trust it, I think. Or not. I don't fucking know. Ah, self doubt.
It's greet.

Victor is jonesing for hash browns and bacon. One of the 25 people who
live here just called it shtikee beacon. Sticky Bacon.

Sticky Bacon is my gang name for the day.

The computer LOD loaned me is a tiny sony vaio with windows 98, so it's,
well, crap. I am firmly in the begging and choosing area, but still:
crap. The mouse won't load. I would like to have a mouse and not have to
deal with the fucking touchpad.

I woke up this morning at 8:30am and walked around. Watched people
bustle off to work. It's going to be a hot day today. Actually hot. I
found a supermarket. Things are fucking expensive because of the shitty
exchange rate.

Got back here about 9:30 and did some stretching, exercise, etc. then
took a delightful shower. I'm glad the water pressure isn't totally
horrible and the water is hot. I also shaved and that makes me feel a
bit better.

I miss jessie. Man, oh man, I miss her.

We took photos yesterday. There are castles and shit here. Fucking old,
old, old fucking castles.

By the way, the internet is fucking great. Thanks rob.


 
Sunday, August 01, 2004
  decaf
There is no decaf in scotland that I can find. And, since I am always
terrified of being je suis fucking americain, I refuse to aks for it.

I'm am high from the venti coffee (with no fucking 1/2 y 1/2) and the
great article in the times. Fuck yes. I am fucking king of the fucking
world.


 
  http://www.timesonline.co.uk/printFriendly/0,,2-1506-1196477,00.html
This is from the times. This is very good...


http://www.timesonline.co.uk/printFriendly/0,,2-1506-1196477,00.html

August 01, 2004

Edinburgh festival: Wham bam thank you for the spam
Bored, Dean Cameron decided to reply to an e-mail scam. He tells Mark
Fisher all about it





Using the word "spam" for junk mail was inspired by a Monty Python
sketch in which the word was repeated ad nauseam. But even at its most
surreal, Monty Python was never as bizarre as the nine-month exchange of
e-mails the American actor Dean Cameron entered into when he replied to
a Nigerian spammer.

With multiple identities, secret codes and guacamole recipes, the
internet conversation became what Cameron calls a "spam scam scam" in
which the would-be victim outwitted the fraudster. Now Cameron has
turned his hilarious correspondence into a true-life fringe show. It
promises to be this year's answer to Dave Gorman's Googlewhack
Adventure.

Feeling besieged by unwanted e-mail, Cameron would send spoof replies
for his own amusement. "I would always reply with one line, which was:
'Great! Do you have any toast?'," he says. "It just so happened that
this one Nigerian spammer decided to answer back and I believe I've
ruined his life. I strung him along for nine months, continuing to say,
yeah I'll get the money to you, but first let's talk about my cats."

The spammer had two identities, that of Mariam Abacha and of her son
Ibrahim. They claimed to have had their assets frozen by the Nigerian
government and wanted Cameron's help in transferring their money to a
bank in Amsterdam.

If Cameron could pay the $1,800 transfer charges being imposed by the
cargo manager of the security firm, they'd give him a cut of the cash.
Most of this was written in capital letters.

"Once they responded, I wrote back and created this character called
Dean Cameron who was a lonely millionaire in Florida who lived with his
cats and his houseboy named Kwan and was nuts," says Cameron, a Los
Angeles TV and film actor. "I would keep dropping hints about the money
I had, talking about how my cats were going to get $100,000 after I
died, so I became this person who was just crazy enough to fall for
their scam."

He used tactics of delay, diversion and obfuscation, always finding good
reasons not to send the money. He said he'd made a cheque out in the
wrong currency, offered the equivalent value of postage stamps, claimed
not to understand how the international banking system worked and sent
$4 as a test.

His e-mails were full of confusingly irrelevant details about his
favourite television programme (an American series called Mister
Sterling in which he had a part). He offered to send them avocados and
provided a recipe for guacamole.

In return for the photographs he sent of his cats, the Nigerian sent
pictures of Abacha and of two suitcases stuffed with US dollars. Upping
the stakes, Cameron introduced a new character. "I forwarded him an
e-mail from another Nigerian spammer saying: 'Hey, what a coincidence,
someone else is having the same problems you are.' He said this great
thing: 'Don't trust any e-mails coming from Nigeria.' What a wonderful
paradox."

The paradox didn't end there. Ibrahim, if that was his name, began
posing as the second Nigerian spammer, Dr Donald Abayomi, because
Cameron had claimed to have given Abayomi money without any problem. "It
was just crazy, very Byzantine and really funny," says Cameron.

Relishing the internet's capacity to invent new identities, Cameron
fielded two more characters: his attorneys Perry Mason and Owen
Marshall, taking their names from popular television shows. The lawyers
slowed proceedings either by trying to protect their client or by trying
to defect to the Nigerian's side.

It all ended with a 30-minute phone call in which Cameron pretended to
be both his fictional alter ego and Perry Mason. "It was the same voice
I used when I was trying to get myself out of school when I was a kid,
pretending to be my dad," says Cameron. "He never realised. My Dean
Cameron character would come on and start singing a song and trying to
find the cats, and the cats went under the sofa and he couldn't get
them, so we had to hang up."

But even after the scammer finally found Cameron's webpage and
discovered he himself was being scammed, the surrealism continued. "What
was very funny," says Cameron, a little sad his nine-month hobby is
over, "is that he was writing as the mother, who doesn't exist, saying:
'I can't believe you posted all of our correspondence on this webpage,
you've broken my heart.' Obviously they've read the website and they
know that I know they are fake. It's just paradox after paradox."

There's a serious side to all this as criminals turn increasingly to
internet fraud. Cameron even performed to a seminar of anti-fraud
professionals who were delighted to see someone fooling around with a
conman in a way they were not allowed. "This Nigerian spam can be
dangerous," says Cameron. "They get you to go down to Nigeria and they
kidnap you and hold you hostage until you pay them or they meet you in
Amsterdam and kill you. They're very bad people. I felt good wasting
their time."

Making his first trip to the Edinburgh fringe is a thrill, he says, but
his immersion into the world of double-dealing has made him nervous:
"What if the producers are scamming me to come to Scotland and the
Nigerians are setting this whole thing up?"



Urgent and Confidential: Dean Cameron's Nigerian Spam Scam Scam,
Pleasance Courtyard, Aug 4-30













Copyright 2004 Times Newspapers Ltd.
This service is provided on Times Newspapers' standard Terms and
Conditions . Please read our Privacy Policy . To inquire about a licence
to reproduce material from The Times, visit the Syndication website .



 
  MOTHERFUCKING STARBUCKS, FUCKERS

There is a starbucks here. Well, there are about 6 starbucks here. But
the big news is that there's one just a few blocks away from our flat.

The bad news is that my t-mobile wi-fi account doesn't work here. And
they don't do monthly plans here, they do hourly or day rates and
they're stupid expensive. But, while I'm flush with jetlag and insanity,
I've coughed up the five pounds for an hour. Just to make me feel at
home.

Some ugly americans go from bar to bar... I go from internet access
point to internet access point.

Here's how they fuck starbucks up, though. There is no half and half.
It's just fucking milk.

JE SUIS FUCKING AMERICAIN, FUCKERS! JE SUIS FUCKING AMERICAIN!

Hmm...

Starbucks, motherfuckers. Motherfucking starbucks.

It's a drizzly morning. It's around 8:30 am. I got to sleep about 1am. I
did some yoga and stretching, and that feels good. Walking is nice... As
of now.. Aks me in a month.

AHA!

The times interview is out!!!



 
logging what goes on before, during and after producing the two person show "Dean Cameron's Nigerian Spam Scam Scam" at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival and beyond.

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