I have strong feelings, as you know, about the Fringe. But on the other hand, I don’t care.
Just as I will never be a lifer in the way Stewart Lee is, likewise, I will never have the passion of a Peter Buckley Hill or even a William Burdett-Coutts when it comes to this, this … thing of ours. My true concerns are both smaller and more personal and larger and more ranging. In my heart, I am bigger than the Fringe, bigger than EVERYTHING.
In the real world, this is known as delusion or at least, illusion. But if you could see the way I doctored that humble frozen pizza I just had, froze in Italy, to be sure, but still a chain store item of modest culinary origins, you would know my sense of self is more than justified.
Why, it was almost … it was almost …
It was almost GOOD.