Ed Byrne loves wearing a suit and saying the right things on faldy daldy chat shows to sell a few tickets. Nowt wrong with getting plugs in to sell a few tickets but sometimes, just like with Bill Hicks' observation on Jay Leno, you think oh for fuck's sake, let's have a bit of you not the Radio 1 DJ side of you.

I know Ed quite well actually, due to the fact that he lived with Ross in various less than salubrious parts of London and I used to steal money off his floor when I was skint and staying down there as a penniless artist. Him and Noble used to leave 50 pences and pound coins as well as loads of copper and smaller silver values all over the house and I used to pick it up when they weren't looking or when they'd stayed out all night and then slept all through the next day. Happy days? Was it fuck! There's no fun in being skint and I mean skint in the fact that you're resorting to finding 50 pence pieces on the carpet so you can afford chips.

Ed was never punk rock. He'd tell you so as well. As it turns out Ross was a little bit. Alright in a nerdy sort of a way but a punk all the same. Doing his own thing, not enjoying the showbiz trappings and not turning up to the opening of an envelope. Good on you sir. Ironically enough his first self styled nickname was 'Liquid Showbiz'. It was done ironically but I've still never forgotten it. That was in the days he'd get a lift off his Dad to gigs. RIP Mac (Ross's Dad), great bloke.

I caught a bit of Graham Norton as I came in from football (full match report In Administration vs Athletico by tomorrow by the way) and fell asleep. Someone save us from all this backslapping and screaming, shouting and random applause from the fuckpigs in that building.

Right, I have a rehearsal, I must go. A good long blog tomorrow I promise, I've got a rehearsal and then I must drive to Shropshire to to a Uni gig. Aye it just about beats picking up money off the floor in Leytonstone. 

TODAY'S BLOG IS SPONSORED BY THE ANTI NOWHERE LEAGUE. REBELS THAT CAME FROM THE TOUGH, NO NONSENSE BACKSTREETS OF ROYAL TUNBRIDGE WELLS. SO WHAT? WELL I THINK IT SAYS A LOT ABOUT YOU YOU BORING LITTLE AND DARE I VENTURE CUNT! 

 While flying around from my first gig to my second gig and then across to my hotel, I was hearing fast Cajun style banjo playing in the background. I've always thought that the East Midlands was a bit one horse town in general even though it has big cities in the case of Nottingham, Leicester and Derby.

I had to drive like a heed the ball because I was informed at the last moment that the gig at Nottingham Glee was actually starting 45 minutes earlier at 7.45 because there was a music gig taking place upstairs in the main room. I loaded up the car and went belting down the motorway and arrived just in time to take the stage. Steve Harris compered and then Josh Howie and Paul Tonkinson were on after me. I didn't see them, by this time I was off to Loughborough to close the town hall gig up there.

Nottingham wasn't exactly a cake walk, it was up and down, some stuff went really well then there was other bits that just got the tumbleweed. Percentage wise though it was okay and although I'm not doing anything 'out there' on the circuit gigs at the moment, I do have a strong fireproof 20-25 these days and I'd say I was as consistent as ever. I joked, they laughed, I left, job done. 

Loughborough town hall looked a bit bollocks when I walked into the place. It wasn't actually held in the big room in the town hall but rather the upstairs balcony of the reception area and I'm not joking. The bill itelf was Sam Avery compering and a couple of others as well as myself. I got there a bit early so took advantage of walking round town to get something to eat and came to the conclusion I'd rather whack my cock with a claw hammer every morning than live there. No disrespect if you're from Loughborough, well to be honest no one is actually from there I'd say, it's just chock full of students and you can tell the place would go to fuck without them. A town just surviving on an influx of students thanks Maggie T.

The thirty or so that were in the passage where I played were very nice and were up for all the silliness and surrealness much more than the city centre Glee club crowd where I'd come from. They went with every routine and because they were so nice I plumped for my BBC world service routine rather than the swear word one. I didn't want to have anyone hit with hard line swearing at that time of night. Maybe I should've gone with that but hey ho, I'm my own producer, director and editor and I'd say I got it wrong looking back. Make a decision to do something even if it's nowt is what they say and I made a decision and to be fair it worked reasonably well.

I'm definitely going to retire the BBC world service routine at some point in the near future. The trouble is, it's a bit like having a 34 year old wily striker that can notch about 14 goals a season and is still doing a good job for you. I have other great routines but maybe out of loyalty and nostalgia and the small fact that it works really well, I still want to keep it. It was without a doubt one of the routines like the Pedophiles routine that got me noticed and got me into the big clubs. Before it gets put out to grass I'll almost certainly get it up on Youtube, I don't think it's going to end up on a DVD at any time so Youtube looks like it's going to be it's retirement home.

Tonight it's an altogether easier affair where I'll just be at The Glee club doing one performance. Tomorrow and Monday I'm off then next week from Tuesday is another crazy non stop week which ends in the uncharted territory of my first residency gig at The Stand Newcastle on my birthday. A leap in the dark that could go one way or the other. If it fucks up though who cares, it's not like it's the end of humanity, that happened the moment BBC2 invented 'Rock School' or when Esther Rantzen started to get popular.

Right off to watch football. Keep it punk. Speak tomorrow.

TODAY'S BLOG IS SPONSORED BY BEN AND MARY FROM THE BIRDS EYE ADVERTS IN THE 70s

It's amazing how many middle class people would like to have been dragged up in 'the hood' or have been ' Just Jenny from the block' or 'Conrad from the Dinks', okay that last one is a hypothetical one, I'm not sure The Dinks is real but you get the point. Well with some rah rahs it doesn't matter because they'd just make up that they had spent their formative years in some kitchen sink scheme.

There's a certain amount of kudos coming from the area I came from or if you were from anywhere on Merseyside or Clydeside. Trouble is these places do take in a lot of well to do areas as well as slums and many a time some kid has clearly 'Geordied it up' in front of his geographically ignorant pals in London and when they out him as a Geordie and I ask where he's from he says Morpeth or Gosforth in a Neil Tenant accent. Now these places do have their council estates but you can tell from his voice he never lived in nor frequented them, neither did he go to the local state school there.

Why aren't people proud, well not proud but at least comfortable with where they're from? I remember Gerry Halliwell saying in an interview 'I'm just a girl from Watford', we all come from a place love, give it a rest. My Mam reckons that in her day the first thing you wanted to do was get out of the coal driven, smoky cesspit that you were from and live in a faldy daldy place down south, flatten your vowels and deny you came from anywhere near the cradle of  the industrial revolution. She told me that lads from the forces came back with silly accents because it was a bit chic back then to talk like a twat. Funny how things change in living memory.

This sort of doesn't bring me on to last nights gig, if it did I would say and it doesn't. When I'm an old man (if I get that far) I'll probably bore people about the halcyon days of being on the road and doing gigs for crisp notes being bundled into my hands when no one's looking and then getting the hell out of there before angry locals tip my car over. In actual fact it's normally a BACS transfer or a previously agreed cheque to follow with my agent's comission off it and invariably the punters have gone home to watch I don't know Luther or Question Time on sky plus when I'm firing up my car and heading to the nearest motorway.

Last night was like going back to the old days in Glossop. I played an upstairs pub room to 60 people. Owen Rankin was the compere. I haven't seen him for about 10 years. He's a lovely feller and still has the enthusiasm and the funnyness. I went on early because one of the acts hadn't turned up yet. After I had finished it turned out that he wasn't coming at all so I did an encore. A great knock. I casually walked over to the car at the end and drove out of the picturesque Peak district town. It wasn't exactly like fighting a Mexican in Mexico or the Mexican quarter of Los Angeles if there is such a place, as I say research wastes time. I certainly wasn't like Johnny Owens against Lupe Pintor in 1980 wanting to get in there do well and then get the hell out. It was after all only Glossop not 'The Dinks'.

Right I'm in Nottingham and Loughborough tonight and then Nottingham tomorrow. Speak then.

TODAY'S BLOG IS SPONSORED BY THE WONDERFULLY TALENTED AND VERY POSH TONY HART. I BET HE DIDN'T PRETEND HE WAS FROM DOWNTOWN KINGSTON. 

I'm sure that's the sort of book title it'll be in 20 years time when the inevitable memiors are published by some no mark who used to go to the same butchers as Dan Willis, about the bloody battle for control in the North East comedy scene. The fact is, I'd be so bold as to say that the three operators we have up here are indeed here to stay for, well let's hope the next 20 years.

I'm so glad looking back that this place never got itself a Jongleurs. More of that was down to the ineptness of Jongleurs really I would say. I told them years ago that they would do brilliantly in the unfashionable towns. The more backwater cities like Hull or Aberdeen would have lapped up a Jongleurs. Big places in their own right but not right next door to an altogether more jumping city. They would've done well in somewhere like Sunderland, a place where people of a certain age steadfastly refuse to go to Newcastle and it is 12 miles away which in North East terms is a Greyhound bus across America. No, the silly fuckers were obsessed with Gateshead right on the Gateshead quay as well, which is practically an expansion of Newcastle's city centre. You can imagine what levels the rates would've been there. Well it fell through anyway and then their original empire fell apart as Regent Inns went down the swanny. 

I don't think people would mind me saying it but The Comedy Store were close to coming to Newcastle many many moons ago, I think up at a site near the Monument. It was a near miss but for one reason or another it didn't happen. That may have been a real success but it wouldn't have helped the local acts, it would've just been for the big hitters.

I don't know of any Glee interest, even though I constantly bugged them about it after a few whiskies late at night in their clubs after a gig for many a long year. I don't think there was any knowledge of the city and it's pull from anyone with power at the Glee. Again that might have been great but it wasn't to be.

I was always hoping the Stand would come and for years we heard rumour and counter rumour about what was going to happen. In the meantime The Hyena, which I thought would be a goner by now, has gone from strength to strength in terms of till ringing. It's a stag and hen market which I can't stand but who am I on these pages to slag that, I've worked for them sporadically over the last 10 years since they moved upstairs despite it being a white knuckle ride gig. One must pay the mortgage and despite being personally slagged a discernable amount of times on line by 'anon' in comedy forums or some cunt like 'iceman' or something (basically people who haven't the balls to say their real names) I've kept on keeping on and still will as long as they'll have me.

Right I'm off now. I'm actually at The Stand tonight doing a BBC thing to a small invited audience. I still haven't done a proper gig in The Stand yet. That will change on Sunday week (the 13th of November) when the first 'Gavin Webster's Northumbrian Assembly' will take place. Chris Ramsay is the special guest. Be there or watch Sunday night telly. Speak tomorrow.

TODAY'S BLOG IS SPONSORED BY PEOPLE SHOWING SOMETHING NEW IN THEIR HOUSE AS A SURPRISE FOR OTHERS BY SAYING 'TA-DA'. THE PRACTICE HAS WANED IN RECENT YEARS

Well we don't have to suffer people dressed like they're in Fields Of The Nephilum every day for another 11 and a half months, that's got to be something. Now we've got a few days of whizz banging before the shops will be chock full of all the toys you've got to give your children this christmas even if you have to take out a second mortgage.

Apparently I've just been on the radio, I missed it. Never mind, I'll listen again on line such is the greatness of modern technology. I was, if I remember talking about the Jesting About scheme and also my forthcoming residency at The Stand beginning on November 13th www.thestand.co.uk There's less than two weeks to go before the beginning of the residency, get yourself on to The Stand's mailing list and if you become a member, there's loads of great offers including getting to see shows for free which I'm sure will include my Sunday show amongst others.

I've a load of new photos which will see the light of day very soon, no doubt some of this will be to plug my show next year at The Journal Tyne Theatre on March 4th. One of them from the peerless Andy Hollingworth looks fantastic already and could well be the poster for next year's show.

Right I've a busy one tomorrow with the Jesting About launch and then work has flown in in the meantime for this weekend so I've got a busy week to tell you about as it's going along. Hopefully I'll see another screen legend by accident during the day sometime this week as well. Speak tomorrow.

TODAY'S BLOG IS SPONSORED BY RAMADIN AND VALENTINE, THOSE TWO PALS OF MINE ACCORDING TO THE CALYPSO SINGER IN THAT WEIRD 'CRICKET LOVELY CRICKET' BALLAD.

And it ended in a whimper truth be told. There'll be no claim of RAPING it or telling people that I TWATTED the gig on these pages. I won't tell the world that I MELTED it or that the club will need a NEW ROOF when the truth is a whole lot different when it comes to gigging every night. I'd say I do have a bizarre life but a one rooted in reality and I don't tell porkies about the quality of my performance or more importantly other folk's reaction to my sweary words. 

Saturday started with a nice one in Chester. I opened. Fortunately Matty Reed was compering (Fence Houses' finest) and brought me on to a crowd who wanted to hear witty and charming stuff, not a cavemen rabble wanting to see a TWATTING!!! They were not at all bad and I got out a reasonably intellegent set to them. I can't wank it up too much in the comedy clubs but I'd say I am pushing it a bit these days and when they're a good crowd it shows up my skills, however when they're a bit mainstream, I'm not very welcome up there to say the least. The 'aren't men and women different' types can always piss all over me in the chicken in a basket circuit shows.

I flew up the M53 afterwards to Liverpool to close Baby Blue. There was more in than the Friday night but it still was semi empty. As it happens they weren't a bad crowd at all, that's two nights in a row a club with a reputation of semi meat headedness comes up trumps and gives me a pain free weekend. It was back to Chester for a few drinks and a chance to see the Chester City goalkeeper drinking in the Laugh Inn bar. We'd seen him that afternoon playing against Frickley. I know it's hardly A list, that was to come the next day.

I stayed in Chester and took advantage of the extra hour in bed to go to my photo session with Andy Hollingworth at 10am. About halfway through, who should walk in but Jesus of Nazareth himself Robert Powell. Fuckin mental!! Andy had blagged his way into doing a few shots of him as he sat next door reading the paper in the theatre. He was a great bloke though admittedly a bit actory. It was nice to talk to him about The Detectives which was in my view a very funny show with one of my comedy heroes Jasper Carrott. He was the bollocks in that, playing it totally straight like he was doing a serious drama like the great sitcom performances of the 20th century from great actors like John Le Mesiurer as Wilson in Dad's Army, Prunella Scales as Sybil in Fawlty Towers or Harry H Corbett as Harold Steptoe.

I got my photo done with him lots of times by Andy the best photographer in christendom, no doubt the best one will be laminated and end up in my snooker room in a few years, you know the one with a mariner style bar, a dartboard and a couple of leopard skin futons with the Wurlitzer juke box and the photo of Frank Clark coming out the tunnel with a ball under his arm on the wall.

Last night was the last night of the proms or last night of the cunts unfortunately people. My Edinburgh show 'All Young People Are Cunts' (yes I can say it now, the real word was cunts) was given it's final viewing in East Yorkshire. There was only about 60 or 70 in the room at Pave in Hull truth be told and I have to say, I did pepper the show with bits from my set however it was sad to be saying goodbye to my most succesful Edinburgh show and a one that got more infamous through the title rather than anything else. Goodbye Cunt show, not as good as 'Webster's Pictionary' I'll be first to admit but some great heights hit. I'll feel sad tearing up the Archbishop Carrios of Greece picture up (that never got many laughs and to be honest isn't even the Archbishop) as well as all the other stuff. I'm keeping the Frankie Boyle beard though-forever.

By the way, a few of my quotes are on the comedy police website chortle in the ex daily mail man's review of the press night last week. They're press release quotes, I didn't do an interview with the two faced fuck even though he makes it looks like I did. I never spoke to the cunt all night despite him hanging round for a drink afterwards with everyone. Just setting the record straight there. I didn't make a scene or cause an argument because I'm a decent bloke and to be honest it's not in my interests to start behaving like an Olly Reed character or Erroll fuckin Flynn and jumping over bar tables to hit a ponse, I'm better than that. He's still barred from any Edinburgh show I do in the future though. However Robert Powell is very welcome, as is the Chester goalkeeper. In fact former camp radio 1 DJ Peter Powell is more welcome than chortly man. 

This week is very quiet, but you never know in this job. Speak tomorrow.

TODAY'S BLOG IS SPONSORED BY THE TV TIMES AWARD FOR ACTING. ALWAYS WENT TO AN ACTOR ON AN ITV SHOW.  

 Right I'll keep this brief because of my lack of time. It's my own fault, I went to watch Chester today against Frickley in a crowd of 2 and a half thousand. I could've bellyached about shite comics but they all know who they are so I decided to watch semi professional football instead.

Thursday night was back to the grind as far as the dinner circuit was concerened. A cricket presentation in Hetton Lyons Cricket Club. Pie and Peas, presentation and then me. An A4 printed white paper in the window with an Epson print of myself on it. 75% well into it. 25% looked at me like I'd thrown stones at their tabby cat for being in my flower beds. Not to worry, I was payed and it was lovely to see one of the nicest fellers I've ever met in comedy bar none Mr Dave Greener. I dropped him off and as it was early, I decided to catch the last act of the first night of the Hyena being open to punters. It was Carl Donelly. It's not my sort of thing but the bloke was very funny and I did enjoy his half an hour.

Last night was a Chester/Liverpool double up. Chester was outstandingly good. Liverpool not too bad. Got away with it, if tonight's half as good I'd say I had a lucky escape of a weekend.

Tomorrow I've a photo session then it's a case of trying to remember 'All Young People Are C**ts' for it's only post Edinburgh outing in Hull. Speak tomorrow people. Jimmy Saville RIP.

TODAY'S BLOG IS SPONSORED BY 1970S SWEARING. SILLY SOD.

I'd say in recent years it should read 'Keep Your Feet On The Ground Geordie Hinnie'. This area does have a reputation of, in it's determination to stamp out pretentiousness and people getting ideas above their station, an in built dislike of people getting on and making waves in other things besides heavy engineering. I have it in built in me even though I'm not from a knacker family. Monty Python's sketch where Eric Idle has gone up North to Barnsley and comes back to visit his parents in London where the whole scenario is turned round from the kitchen sink style pretty much sums up the Northern English attitude pervading throughout the 20th century and it still is struggling to shake off. Mind you it doesn't help when commentators from down South like critics and stuff (anti NUFC football journalists come into this category as well) constantly belittle anyone from North Lincolnshire across to Cheshire and then up to the Scottish border for their efforts and their originality and ingenuity and only accept things if it comes from someone with a received English tone.

Does this mean I have a chip on my shoulder? Of course it fuckin does. That's the thing, if you admit you've got a chip on your shoulder and you're bitter, there's no other stick they can beat you with. Also they can then start thinking about why you've got a chip on your shoulder in the first place. They probably won't though because they'll not be listening. At least up North we saw through the Empire and the monarchy and the Union Jack thing a long time ago after we got screwed year on year with our industry going to the dogs and governments Conservative and (new) Labour constantly neglecting us, I think many in the soulless roundabout towns down South are still weighing it up and might just start to realise it's all a load of bollocks after we've left the Euro and the Scots have broken away and we'll all still be paying tuition fees, getting no state pensions and having to pay tax for getting out of bed whilst having a crap NHS, a crap transport system and a whole load of fuck all else in the fourth largest economy in the world where we return a Tory government every time.

Anyway on to the now rather than the future, I was actually in North East Lincolnshire last night in Cleethorpes. It was a nice gig to only 18 people. My old pal Roger Monkhouse was on. He compered. Suzy Ruffell opened and then I closed. There was nothing wrong with the meagre crowd at the Lit.com festival Cleethorpes. I know I hadn't heard of it either, funny that!! They were a nice bunch. I did a good steady job and it made the drive home despite Newcastle's yearly League cup exit before christmas coming through on my technology phone. One day Newcastle might win cups aye and one day places like Grimsby might have a fishing industry again instead of being palmed off with lit.com festivals. Mind you thanks for the money though and thanks for the gig. I'm off to a dinner tonight in Hetton. Ha ha fuck knows. I don't think there'll be a lit.com festival in Hetton anytime soon. It would feel like it was letting the side down. Speak tomorrow where I'll tell all.

TODAY'S BLOG IS SPONSORED BY THE NAME RONNIE. RIDICULOUS.  

All in all it was a good night last night. If anyone's not aware, it was the press launch of The Stand comedy club in Newcastle and in true Stand style the night wasn't exactly a damp squib, it was (to be honest I don't know what the opposite of damp squib is) more like a resounding success. 'A damp squib....more like a resounding success'-Gavin Webster. Something tells me that won't be on their promotional literature they seem to be handing out to all insundry in the North East's second biggest city with thousands more football fans than their near neighbours with the largest city.

We drank across the road in The Duke Of Wellington where we had to pay for the drinks, I know fuckin ridiculous! before being lead into the new building with comedy 6 nights a week, soon rising to 7 apparently. Tommy Sheppard, main director and shareholder got up and said a few thank yous and gave his encouragement and talked up the city and the area. Good on you Tommy. He then introduced Jo Caulfield who was indeed the first comedian to take the stage at this fledgling club. I know 'fledgling' sorry. I'm not entirely sure what it means, I've read too many non league football reports to avoid cliche writing. Jo introduced the legendary Vladimir Mctavish as first act who apparently opened Edinburgh and Glasgow Stands all those years ago so going with tradition he opened this gig. Let's hope in a few years he opens Stand Aberdeen and then Stand Belfast (by the way that isn't inside knowledge just me playing an educated guessing game, don't take too much notice though Ladbrokes invite me to their staff Christmas do!) After that we had John Scott, Nicola Mantalios Lovett, The Suggestibles, Simon Donald as BarryTwyford and then myself. I thought they might be spent by the time I went on but that wasn't the case and apart from inevitable noise at the free bar, everyone was hanging on my every word.

Who knows how it'll all go. What was good was that every North East comic who was anyone was there. No doubt a load of other bods who had some kudos were in the room as well from the artistic side and from some other teniously linked industries. Of course the jounalists were there. I'm not saying anything, I want to keep this positive. I'd say there were about 70 or 80 folk there that I knew and I was pleased to see. To be honest I didn't notice most of the rest of them. Yes there are always cocks on a freebie and that like to be seen at events like this which is the nearest thing to showbiz and red carpets you can get in this area. I wonder how many of them will turn up at the normal shows where you have to pay to get in and don't get free drink after the dust has settled?

Right it's back to the grind tonight and a gig in Grimsby. No doubt this won't be the last time The Stand Newcastle will be mentioned on these pages despite Mohammed from the Hyena's simplistic assesment of what direction it's going to go in. No really! Who knows, he could be right but I very much doubt it.

Hopefully the wind of comedy changed last night in a basement in the toon. I'll miss using the word fledgling if it does.

TODAY'S BLOG IS SPONSORED BY KANGO EQUIPMENT. I SAW A BIT OF IT HIDDEN AWAY LAST NIGHT. 

 Right I'll keep this brief because I've lost loads of fuckin writing after pressing the wrong button. It was my own fault I'm such a twat, I shouldn't have kept the light off for so long while typing. I partly couldn't be arsed to switch it on but as well I do see the saving of some money a virtue in this greedy bastard rip off age. Sometimes Scottish blood can account for a lot of bad traits as well as good.

I've finished my books, get in. There's nothing worse than recalculating your June outgoings for the 7th time because the first 6 have given you different answers. It ate into my only day off yesterday where there was no gigs to tell you about. All I did yesterday was fill in accounts and played football. A great win was had by the way and more on the match in my 'And In The Sport' column, where I do a weekly rant about all football and sometimes other sports. Mainy though, apart from a full report from our match it's the latest goings on at Tyneside clubs Newcastle, Gateshead and Sunderland. 

Who knows what to expect from tonight where I'm at the press launch of The Stand Newcastle. It could be a bloody awful gig as press launch nights often are, however there'll be a lot of old faces to catch up with. I'll tell all tomorrow even if something bad happens, in fact especially if something bad happens. As it goes I'd say I was the only journalist that will give you all the back stage goings on. I would've said gossip there but it would make me sound like a twat from them magazines that has had a picture of Katy Price or Kerry Katona on the front page since 1998.

Right I'm off. I promise a decent one tomorrow where I'll actually have a bit of time to do it. Speak tomorrow unless I see you tonight oh hacks, comics, liggers, blaggers and jocks. If you're all four then I'll but you a drink, no I'll get The Stand to buy you a drink.

TODAY'S BLOG IS SPONSORED BY NICKY MINAJ. DON'T KNOW HER PERSONALLY BUT THE BAIRN MADE ME LOSE MY PLACE WHILE ADDING UP BY ANNOUNCING THAT SHE WAS ON TELLY.

Can anyone tell me whether this is a recognised phrase? I heard Stan Collymore use it on Talk Sport once when describing a Port Vale player who was playing for Trinidad and Tobago in the World Cup against England. I'm as English as a drive through Macdonalds such is the non native behaviour of people within the land that they live these days. Are we a nation of protestors or a people with a great sense of humour? Looking at my television in the last few days, I'd say we were neither.

Whether that applies to people of this area, who knows. We always seem to have our voice taken away with central decisions to cut back on our local media etc. It's as though nerve centre central (ie London) is frightened of our collective voice. If only we had some kind of platform to speak, I'd say the rest of this country would get a shock at our innovation up here.

I hope this is the last day that this area is rudderless in terms of stand up comedy. From tomorrow The Stand comedy club will be open for business in Newcastle and we can all move forward as one. I've been quoted in a few periodicals saying how good this is for the area and how important it will be for old acts like myself and for young ones coming through. I know they were sound bites that could fit well in little columns in newspapers but I meant it.

No doubt tomorrow will be one of those typical press nights where all the hacks will be a on a free jolly up while us comics will behave like monkey boys (and girls) in front of them. I'll be glad when it's all over to be honest and we can all start work properly. Remember that self appointed icon Tony Blair when he said outside number 10 on May the something 1997 'The time for talking is over, now is the time to do'. Do I need to make a comment after that quote or just let you throw something out the window when you read it?!

I do think amidst sore heads on Wednesday morning, we should all work to make The Stand great. It's ground zero and the only way is up. The benefactors of this may well be some young kid who'll be going to school on Wednesday and despite not realising it now, will be the next big North East comedy star. I don't care as long as they're very funny. Enjoy this day rest of the country, it's the last day that the North East will not be on a level playing field with London, Central Scotland, Northern Ireland, Manchester and the North West and South Wales in terms of a cultural, satirical and comedically artistic hub. Enjoy it you fuckers, the Geordies are coming ha ha. Speak tomorrow. I'm as Newcastle as Stotty Cakes.

TODAY'S BLOG IS SPONSORED BY PEOPLE SLAMMING CAR DOORS FIRST THING IN THE FUCKIN MORNING!!!!!!!!! 

 I do like the winter. I think this is what makes the character of the British. Shit weather, fatty foods, being cold just by walking to the newsagent. I'd say anyone's greatness is measured by their staying power and persistence and fuck me living on Tyneside when, at 6.45pm on a Sunday night, an ice cream van with it's jolly music parks in your street, is a really hard assault course.

Apparently Heinrich Himmler was a very good filing clerk. You might not be greatly interested reading this bit of trivia and it is a very subjective bit of trivia. Does it mean he was quick, didn't make many mistakes or both or perhaps he had a couple of disabled ethnic minorities doing it for him? Either way he apparently was and I could do with his expertise this week! There's nothing more arduous than your yearly books and if it meant asking someone from the SS to help, then I'd gladly do it. I wouldn't get on about race, during breaks I'd just keep it light, you know a bit of football and why early Till Death Do Us Part was better than Steptoe and Son that sort of thing. You've all seen my routine about Geordies being good nazis haven't you. I'll not bore you with the details but no doubt Chortly Daily Mail man probably thinks it's hack and not fully written yet and that I let everyone who paid money to see me down (apart from that free loading bastard though). One good thing about the nazis, that fucker would've been carted off pretty much when they'd set foot on English soil. They came for the comedy critics but I wasn't a comedy critic so I said nothing.

It's dark, it's going to be a long winter this year I'd say. Comedy wise I'd say we've got a couple more of years of this candy floss. I don't know where the backlash will come from, maybe I'm wrong and this Mr Saturday Night comedy is here to stay for a generation but I'm an optimist and I hope some people somewhere are ready to spark it out.

Right a momentous week awaits. There's a press night at that mysterious brand new Newcastle comedy club on Tuesday. Wednesday is a night of compering in wonderful Grimsby and then on Thursday night I'll be doing a dinner in Hetton. It's jet set so far isn't it! Friday and Saturday I have Chester and Liverpool double ups and then on Sunday for probably the last time, I shall be performing 'All Young People Are Cunts' at Pave in Hull. Yes a busy busy week. All that and an In Administration, (comedy's only competitive football team) league match against Glovehead on Monday night in the Wallsend Soccer Sixes League.

Right I'm off to the offy. Keep on keeping on people. Speak tomorrow.

TODAY'S BLOG IS SPONSORED BY SING SOMETHING SIMPLE WITH THE KING'S SINGERS.