It was grey and cold this morning. Good. That’s what Edinburgh should be. The pleasant balmy sunshine and blues skies of yesterday were just wrong.

I woke too early and was heading into town before nine o’clock. As I walk, lots of people in matching red tops come ambling toward me. But each is on their own, they never walk together. I wonder if they are part of a sporting team or improv group who have had a bad match or lack of ideas and aren’t talking to each other. I try to read the little crest on the breast pocket of the next red-topped man and it seems to say “Alienation Squad”. Well, that explains it.

I go into Fringe Central and when I come out… the blue skies are back! It’s sweltering. I go back to Halls to drop my coat off and bump into Romesh and Rob.

Now, the previous night, myself and Rich may, or may not, have pulled off a hilarious Dorm style prank in which several 3D Comedy Flyers were plastered on the door of a certain person.

I can not confirm or deny this. Who knows what really happened? I have no memory of anything. However, Rom’s first words to me are, “I don’t suppose you know anything about…”

“No. Not at all. I don’t know what you mean.”

“Well, I don’t know who’s working on your flyering team, but they are very VERY good”

“Yeah. They seek out our audience demographic and aim for those who are most likely to see the show…”

So I got out of that one. We arrange to meet at Nick Helm’s show “Keep Hold of the Gold” which is awesome. Full of songs and audience participation. 3.40 downstairs at the Tron. £5. I may well go again. You should go again too. If you haven’t gone already: Go. And then go again.

After Nick’s show we go to prepare for our own debut. Rich (Perry) turns up. Rob turns up to compere. I turn up. Rich (Heap) turns up. Basically, all the performers turn up. As do an audience of 40 people! Which is remarkable really, considering we hadn’t flyered at all. I’d only put up some posters. Rich (Heap) had flyered after his Amused Moose show.

However, the Counting House Ballroom seats 150 people. It’s like a proper theatre. So 40 people still leaves some space in the room despite the amazing turn out it is. (In previous years I’ve been happy for audience numbers to hit single figures.)

Rob welcomes people in and stops the show next door trying to steal our audience. “Get off! There ours!” The show goes pretty bloody well and afterwards we go for a drink with some of our friends who came to support us including Keiron Nicholson, Alex Petrovic, Michael Mooney, and Nicholas Cooke – thanks guys.

Then after an abandoned attempt to go for Thai food, I settle for a burger in Bristo Square.

For the second time in two days, someone talks to me in capital letters. I was coming out of the Gilded Balloon. When a young studenty looking chap taps me on the shoulder and shouts, “HEY! YOU’RE THAT DUDE!”

“Er.” I reply wittily.

“YOUR THAT DUDE! …COMEDY!”

“3D Comedy?” I venture

He and several of his friends stare at me blankly.

“No. YOUR’E THAT DUDE!”

“No. No, I’m not. I think I know who you mean. But I’m not him.” I think he might have mistaken me for Matt Berry who plays Douglas Reynholm on The IT Crowd. It has happened before. A guy came up to me after a gig and said he saw me come on stage and got all excited thinking it was Matt Berry.

But then it was me.

I start to back away from the student. But before I do they he points at me again and intones, “YOU. ARE. EVIL!”

I think this is meant to be my catchphrase.

“Ha. No.”

I escape. As I return to my table, a guy in his mid-thirties points at me.

“HEY! YOU’RE THAT DUDE!”

“I’m NOT!” I demand. What the hell is going on? But then he adds, “What was all that about?” and I realise he is just commenting on what went before. He is not, in fact, part of a massive conspiracy to freak me out.

I get another early night. I’m too tired to even try reading The Making of Modern Britain. I’ll never get out of the inter-war years at this rate. Feh.