Hello. This is Dave Hill, the incredibly famous American person who is in no way to be confused with the guitar player from Slade of the same name even though we both have incredible hair and are really great at rocking people without even really trying.
Anyway, I just wanted to give a quick report on my visit to the popular English city of London, which is totally happening right now. I am having a really nice time. Here is pretty much the deal so far:
I flew here from New York City on Sunday night. For some reason the plane people sat me in between two people even though I am really famous - one, a lady who kept wanting to rest her head on my shoulder, and the other, some guy who was chewing gum that smelled so strong that I felt like he had taped it to my face or something, which is gross any way you slice it.
To escape them both, I ended up changing seats and sitting with an older Indian couple who were thrilled that I ruined their two-people-in-four-seats scenario for them. I would have been pissed at me too, but this was about survival and I did what I have to do. Anyway, they gave me dirty looks the whole time and then I gave them a "Hey, what can you do?" look in return. Other than that, the sex was fabulous.
I arrived in London at 6am on Monday. I'm not sure what I was thinking with that plan, you know, cuz it was really early, like I'm a doctor or something. From Heathrow Airport, I rode the Tube all by myself to Belsize Park, a nice but random neighborhood where I rented a small yet largely disease-free apartment (or flat as they told me it's called) for myself because I am a grown man who is perfectly capable of staying in a tiny apartment in a foreign city all by himself no matter what anyone else says. I even bought groceries and everything, including a large bottle of dandelion and burdock, which is pretty much the Coke of England as far as I can tell. Everyone loves it and drinks it all the time and sometimes they even put it in their hair. It's great. Ask anybody.
As you can probably imagine, aside from all the high-powered meetings and sex I have been having this past week in London, I have also been doing shows and drinking as much as the cops will let me.
I did the Good Ship Comedy night on Monday, which was a super blast; the London Storytellers Club on Tuesday, which was also a blast; and then two shows on Wednesday, the first of which I will not mention because I think everyone in the audience wanted to throw stuff at my head (the people who ran the show were really nice though), and then a really fun show hosted by the delightful Jeff Leach called Comedy Wednesday at Paradise by Way of Kensal Green, which is a place here.
Last night, I performed at Pete Jonas' super fun Comedy Tree show near Putney Bridge. Afterwards, on the way back to the tube, I decided to scream "Fuck Fulham" over and over again for no apparent reason just to see what would happen. It made a lot people really angry so I had to run away as fast as possible, which was fine because I needed the exercise and it's not like those rocks they threw at me even hurt anyway so whatever. On the upside, they did give me a cool nickname - Poofter - so I have been introducing myself to people that way ever since. I'm not sure what it means but everyone here seems to get a really big kick out of it, especially the lady at Tesco.
Today I am mostly doing crunches and finishing off that big bottle of dandelion and burdock I told you about earlier. Then I might take a nap or something. I don't really know - I am living this shit minute to minute. I have four more shows while I am in London and you should totally come to all of them or my feelings will be hurt. Here they are:
Friday Sept. 16
Crack Comedy, Slug and Lettuce,5 Chicheley Street, 8pm
London, SE1 7PJ
Saturday Sept. 17
Crack Comedy, The Watershed, 267 The Broadway, London, SW19 1SD 8pm
Monkey Business, The Oxford, 256 Kentish Town Road NW5 2AA 9pm
Sunday Sept. 18
Downstairs at the Kings Head, 2 Crouch End Hill, N8 8AA 9pm
Okay, that about covers it for now. Have a great day. You seem nice.
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