My review of the Monkey Butlers has appeared in the Guardian. What an honour to see my name in print! I bought five copies. One each for Leslie and myself, one for Pat, one for O'Brien and one to put in the shop window when I get back home. Mr Runcorn did a very acrid muck over the whole pile. He will have to go.
I spoke to O'Brien who seems to be recovering well, although he broke his little finger on a loo chain when he fell off the toilet through pins and needles.

Mr Runcorn must have laid a muck on the floor somewhere and the stench inside is terrible. I cannot open the windows as it is raining and I would not wish to dampen my costumes. My trademark red jacket is pure Irish Linen, and the tie is silk, so they are virtually irreplaceable. Until I can find Mr Runcorn's offering I shall have to tolerate the smell. Leslie is out buying mouthwash, he may make a better searcher than me as I suspect the muck is under his bed and I can't bend that low, what with my back and these trousers.

A day off today so I have been able to rinse the costumes. I have had to smack the stains out of my jacket with a chair leg. My, that venue is hot. So far I have used three bottles of febreze.

Last night I was interviewed for a live radio show. Once again I had terrible trapped wind due to matchmakers. When will this curse leave me? On a lighter note, I have taught Mr Runcorn to shake paws. Leslie was convinced that Mr Runcorn had "done a muck" on his bed but I was able to prove that it was just a melted fuse bar that Leslie had falleen asleep on.

A small dog wondered into our flat last night. I have decided to adopt him and have named him "Mr Runcorn". Leslie CLAIMS he is allergic and is in a sulk with a running nose. He has still not apologised to me for using a kiwi fruit instead of an apple in our opening song. Moments like that can ruin a show.

Gracious what a busy week its week. Had a day off yesterday and tried to see Leslie's glam rock production of "A Streetcar Named Desire". Sadly I slid in some sort of pizza toppping that was on the pavement outside the flat and had rather a fall. Consequently I stayed in with few restorative brandies. Leslie must have been rather annoyed because the room was in a terrible state when I woke up. Broken glases, a smashed chair, and the word "shed" scrawled over and over again on the walls in his stage make up.

Hello all. Whilst Leslie sits at home moaning about toilet roll I have been busy promoting the show. I was honoured to be asked as a guest on Festival FM. I had some Grand Marnier and cod for breakfast and I had terrible wind throughout the interview but I imagined they could edit that out. I then discovered the show was live. I'm sure no one will notice. I offered to clean the microphone as I left but they said there was no problem as they will get a new one.

Well. Two shows down. The first was problematic. I don't wish to point the finger but Leslie will have to buck his ideas up if he wants to cut it in the acting world. Firstly he forgot the apple for the opening song, and then I could have sworn he was drunk at the end of the show. He seemed to weave and shudder before my eyes. Other than that all is well. Yesterday I ate nothing but Lorne sausage in an attempt to re-train my stomach for the rigours of Edinburgh. The results have been surprising. We are using kitchen roll instead of toilet paper as sheet for sheet it is half the price and considerably more absorbent.

We have arrived safely in Edinburgh. Pat drove us up, rather a long journey as I get car sick if I face forward. We were hoping to get a lift from O'Brien but last week he slipped on some dung whilst fitting a shower curtain and broke his arm in three places. Hopefully he will able to drive us back as Pat's car is rather small for me and we had to have the windows down all the while to get the smell out. I have high hopes for the show this year. Leslie has nearly learnt his lines and we have a delightful venue. If we can get it right this year then that promised tour of primary schools could well be a reality. Same flat as last year, which is rather a shame as Leslie and I have to share a room again. Not the bed thank heavens. 2003 was especially difficult in that respect as Leslie has a tendency to thrash around whilst asleep, like dog in a bath. I barely slept for the whole month.