Edinburgh Festival `98: Festival Diary

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The Independent Culture
MON. 10.40AM. Awake after restless night's sleep. Shower, breakfast, then off to Assembly Rooms. Feel imposing but not yet dominant. See Krapp's Last Tape. The elderly actor looked confused. He didn't speak for half an hour and when he did his nose fell off. Very shoddy work. Actors should retire at 30 and get proper jobs. Bump into Johnny Vegas, a fat talentless drunk. I am much funnier than he is, and prove it in the evening with another superb performance.

Tues. 9.16am. Wake alone... good! More milk for me. Have a drink with Rich Hall, wittering Yankee immigrant! I am much funnier than he is. At Late N Live my comic genius is so radiant that journeyman comics huddle away from me, except Mark Lamar who tells me I was shit. I am much funnier than he is.

Wed. 11.40am. Awake in panic: no milk! Buy milk, crisps and tissues from jovial newsagent. Am much funnier than he is. Play football on the meadows with other comedians. Some of my passing was hilarious.

Thurs. 7.25am. No sleep last night. My review in the Scotsman failed to mention that I am the funniest man in the world. In fact, they failed to mention that I'm funny at all. As I stride amusingly down Princes Street wearing my star, I realise there must be an experimental dance troupe called "Sean Lock" which has been reviewed by mistake. Phew, what a relief! Get drunk with my mate Bill Bailey. We have a great laugh, but that's mostly down to me.

Fri. 11.25am. Get up but have been awake since 9.00am admiring my firm, athletic legs. At 2pm deliberately avoid crisis meeting with promoter by seeing Babes with Blades, a compelling show about the history of women and weapons. Was particularly moved by the lesbian prison fight. In the audience I recognised Frank Skinner, the Midlands smut merchant. In trying to avoid my gaze he obviously concedes that I am much funnier than he is. My show is now so funny that people bring sick pets to be cured by my one-liners.

Sat. 2.30am. Awake terrified, covered in sweat. What if my hilarious act is nothing more than a superhuman power bestowed upon me by some curious alien race? I must fight these destructive thoughts. See Lady Boys at the Big Top. Very disappointing, no boobs.

Sun. 10.53am. Wake with the confidence of a comic genius. Last night all the comedians signed an affidavit declaring me the funniest man on earth. But it is a moment tinged with sadness as I think of the ancient civilisations that died out before they could enjoy my act. I could have been Pharaoh of Fun, Big Chief Many Giggles or Zeus of Comedy.

Sean Lock is at the Pleasance Cabaret Bar at 8.05pm until 31 August