Sunday roast with Brendon Burns

Hi. How are you? It’s me, Dave Hill, from before. You know, the American guy, the world-class entertainer and highly-boneable public figure. Yeah, that one.

Anyway, I’ve been here in Edinburgh for roughly ten days so far and- aside from having lost a lot of blood and not being able to find my pants- it seems to be going pretty well. I have been doing both of my shows here- Big in Japan and The Dave Hill Explosion- over there at the Pleasance Courtyard, which is totally right by my house here so I can walk and everything, and have gotten some great reviews and also a couple offers of sex. I couldn’t afford the sex though as the dollar is really weak over here. Oh well, next time. Or maybe I’ll stay out of the public restrooms altogether so the topic doesn’t even come up.

Despite my shows generally going very well and getting nice write-ups and whatnot, it has not been all smooth sailing for me over here. One night an older gentleman stood up from the audience, called me crap, and walked out of the theatre. I wasn’t expecting my dad to make the trip over here, but it ended up being a nice surprise to see him anyway. Another night, there was another older guy in the front row who looked like he might have been a roadie for Slade at some point who didn’t seem to really like me all that much either. I tried to smooth things over by inviting him over to my apartment to cook something for me on the George Foreman grill this place came with, but he just gave me the finger, which I took as a no. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, show business can be a cruel mistress sometimes.

Aside from all the stuff in the paragraph before this one, I have been having a really delightful time here in Edinburgh. This past Sunday, I went over to the great Australian comedian Brendon Burns’ house for Sunday roast, the popular midday meal that I had heard so much about but never had the chance to sit down to before because I am from out of town and we don’t have that sort of thing in the United States. Sometimes people will meet up on Sunday afternoon for some huevos rancheros (Mexican eggs, it turns out) or something, but that’s about the extent of it. We Americans really need to get it together as far as Sunday meals go and also in a couple other areas too. I just checked.

Anyway, I had a lovely time having Sunday roast with Brendon, his lovely lady Laura, and his sidekick Dave. As mentioned previously, Brendon is from Australia so sometimes I can’t understand a word he is saying, but I just smile and nod through those parts and it seems to work out great for both of us. To be fair though, I am originally from Cleveland and I mumble a lot, so sometimes even I don’t understand what I’m saying.

In other news, last night I came home kind of drunk and made myself a cheese sandwich with what turned out to be extremely hot raw chili peppers. Now there is a party going on in my gastrointestinal system to which I would have rather not been invited. I will keep you posted on this and other topics in the very near future. At the moment, however, I must go. Quickly.

Love,
Dave Hill