Day 8 was not one of the best.

For the first time, our gig was a bit flat and I wasn’t sure why. I moved a couple of jokes earlier in my set to try something out but it was hard to judge from the quiet crowd whether that was an improvement or not. And just to add further confusion, one line we’d talked about rewriting suddenly got a good laugh. We consoled ourselves that one slightly weaker gig out of five so far is an all right hit-rate.

I went to the gym to blow the cobwebs away a bit and ended up with blisters on my toes and lost a button from my cardigan.

It rained and rained and rained.

On the positive side, I went along to see my mate James W Smith in his first solo show, Living in Syntax. The audience there clearly enjoyed it and it deserves more of them, as befits any show that features Latin poetry and a game of Boggle. 6.10pm daily at the Royal Mile Tavern, and it’s free.

Last stop of the day was to see Michael Legge‘s Curse Sir Walter Raleigh, which was the best stand-up show I’ve seen here so far. Michael spends an hour with no microphone shouting funny things from his mournful teddy bear face on the subject of good and bad manners. It’s hilarious and also features a Doctor Who joke, which is always a bonus, but there’s is only one more show remaining.

And outside, it continued to rain.

Got back to my room with a stinking headache which I realised was my own fault for not rehydrating properly after the gym. Made an emergency trip through the lakes on South Bridge to Tesco and then popped a couple of Nurofen and went to bed.

Sleep. Blessed, endangered sleep.

What I learnt today: It is important to drink water when exercising, you idiot.

Recommended shows: Michael Legge: Curse Sir Walter Raleigh

Obligatory plug: I’m in Three Man Roast, 2.35pm weekdays and Saturday 20th at Finnegan’s Wake on Victoria Street – free entry. Also at the Amused Moose Comedy Awards Showcase at the Pleasance Dome, 4pm on August 17th (book online).

We had a lovely crowd at Tuesday’s gig, although the five people who arrived after my set missed the defining part of the show, which will now be known as “The One Where Will Broke the Microphone”.

I got a bit too into my big finale and apparently bashed the microphone on my knee. Fortunately, we had a spare so I pottered around on stage, showing the audience the secret magic behind the scenes of live comedy. (I switched the other microphone on and adjusted the volume.)

Still, having wrecked the mic I was most definitely ready to rumble. So I went and had a nice sit down and a cup of coffee with Alex of Three Man Roast fame and Paul from off of Nonsense Duet.

In the evening, I did a bit of writing and then had one of those naps that goes on just a bit too long. I woke up very disoriented, wondering where I was, who I was and whether I’d missed my own show.*

Popped over to the Guilded Balloon, which always reminds me of The Prisoner for some reason, to see another Comedy Countdown, where Michael J Dolan faced up to Stuart Goldsmith. It was another fun show and this time I got both answers (both, damn your eyes) to the conundrum. And yes, that is what counts as satisfying in my life. I’ve decided Comedy Countdown is to words and numbers what Karaoke Circus is to karaoke and circuses.

Ended up in Brooke’s again where I met more lovely fringefolk and bumped into one of the producers of Radio 4 Extra’s Newsjack, which is back for a fifth series soon. It’s an open submission topic comedy show: if you’ve ever fancied writing sketches for radio, it’s an excellent way to get started (follow NewsjackBBC on twitter for news and info).

And then, for the second night in a row, I found myself in a takeaway at 4am, for which Carol Vorderman is entirely to blame.

*”In my room”, “Will Howells” and “No” were the answers, for anyone playing at home.

What I learnt today: Kate Copstick is actually lovely.

Recommended shows: Comedy Countdown (again).

Obligatory plug: I’m in Three Man Roast, 2.35pm weekdays and Saturday 20th at Finnegan’s Wake on Victoria Street – free entry. Also at the Amused Moose Comedy Awards Showcase at the Pleasance Dome, 4pm on August 17th (book online).

The Edinburgh Fringe can be a bit of a bubble at the best of times. As you dash around performing shows, seeing shows and napping (not so much while dashing around), it’s easy to miss the news. I got the feeling a collective jolt went through the ex-pat Londoners up here yesterday evening as the enormity of what was happening back home fought its way through the fog of ticket stubs, alcohol and street performance.

On the one hand, I’m glad to be well away from the rioting. On the other, I feel – entirely irrationally – like a coward, as if I’d run away. My city under attack, I had an unexpectedly macho desire to be there to protect it. In practice, “defending” would probably have involved switching off the lights, peering through the curtains and pontificating on twitter, and there is plenty of pontificating on there without my adding to it. My best plan to get back at the criminal mobs is to put it about that they’re organising everything through Grindr.

Still, I worry about my friends and wish I was closer to them.

Immersing myself back in the silliness of the Fringe was a welcome distraction. Having enjoyed seeing Ben do ukulele cabaret yesterday, I’d snapped up a spare spot and so took my uke down to do a couple of songs (Media Gay and Jim Bergerac: A Love Song). They went well – not aided by a coughing fit just before going on – and I only muffed a couple of chords. It’s a lovely, supportive show and I’m looking forward to doing it again on Thursday (leaning towards doing My Favourite One Off of Thundercats and Why Aren’t There Dolphins on Only Connect?).

The highlight of the show for me, though, was the final singalong on stage with host Tricity Vogue and fellow Uke of Edinburgh contestants Pure Joy and Penny Dreadful and regular Karaoke Circus star Thom Tuck (who’s up here with his first solo show, Thom Tuck Goes Straight to DVD). We did Hit the Road, Jack, which consisted of four chords I could play. Win.

I bumped into Thom again later at Comedy Countdown, where he faced off against We Are Klang’s Steve Hall. That was an excellent show, mixing the obvious pleasure of a words and numbers game with which you could play along with, well, comedy – not least hilariously grumpy host Dan Atkinson, combative Carol Vorderman clone Paul Sinha and prize neologist and Richard-Stilgoe-alike James Sherwood in dictionary corner. Very tempted to go again tonight as it’s only a fiver.

What I learnt today: I am not the only comic up here to have actually been on Countdown. Alex Horne also has that claim to fame. Damn him.

Recommended shows: Conor O’Toole’s Manual of Style and Comedy Countdown.

Obligatory plug: I’m in Three Man Roast, 2.35pm weekdays and Saturday 20th at Finnegan’s Wake on Victoria Street – free entry. Also at the Amused Moose Comedy Awards Showcase at the Pleasance Dome, 4pm on August 17th (book online).

As Dan and I left the Pleasance Dome in the early hours of Day 5, he pointed out the poster for the Amused Moose Comedy Awards Showcase.

“Are you on that?” he asked.

“Yes, I should be,” I replied. I remembered quite clearly doing the photoshoot, alongside a host of other comedians, so I should be on the poster – unless my awkward smile had been cropped out or a more famous comic’s head had been photoshopped onto my body.

Neither of these things had happened and there I was, on a poster. Wearing exactly the same clothes in the photo as I was wearing stood looking at the photo. And I honestly have more than one set of clothes. And have been alternating.

We don’t do shows on Sundays so I took the opportunity to see one of the acts that clashes with ours, The Gentlemen of Leisure (the old GOL). Partway into their show, I realised with increasing horror that I had left my vital umbrella in the bar, hanging off the end of a table to dry out.

I figured there were three possible futures: I would leave the show, find my umbrella where I had left it and head out into rainy Edinburgh with my trusty anti-precipitation shield (umbrella); I would leave the show, see my umbrella had gone, retrieve it from the kindly bar staff and head out into rainy Edinburgh with my trusty anti-precipitation shield (umbrella); or I would leave the show, see my umbrella had gone, find no trace of it and head out into rainy Edinburgh with no protection from the precipitation (I would get wet).

It turned out to be the first one.

I went along to Tricity Vogue’s Ukulele Cabaret in the evening to see my old schoolmate Ben playing uke (obv). He’s had a ukulele for two months and is incredibly deft with it – he can play separate strings and everything. I’ve had mine for two years and still just bash chords. Though, as Ben pointed out to me, he’d been playing guitar for 15 years first – whereas I “play” the ukulele specifically because I can’t play the guitar.

Spent the rest of the evening geeking out with Dan and Tom from the Gentlemen of Leisure (the old GOL). Surrounded by the beautiful people of Brooke’s Bar, I suspect we were the only ones setting each other quiz questions and discussing our favourite episodes of modern Doctor Who. We are pretty cool.

What I learnt today: The first mobile phone call in the UK was made by Ernie Wise. (Thanks, Tom.)

Recommended shows: The Gentlemen of Leisure Present: The Death of the Novel and Superbard and the Sexy Quantum Stories.

Obligatory plug: I’m in Three Man Roast, 2.35pm weekdays and Saturday 20th at Finnegan’s Wake on Victoria Street – free entry. Also at the Amused Moose Comedy Awards Showcase at the Pleasance Dome, 4pm on August 17th (book online).