Gimme Some Money.

Today, I met my friend Rob in London for one of out not-as-regular-as-we'd like catch-ups.

We spent most of the time sat outside the Spice of Life in Soho, where we became bait for beggars (which I think is the name of a Rolling Stones album) and despite responding to everyone who asked for change as politely and apologetically as we could - probably more than most would - we seemed to antagonize them more than if we'd said nothing at all.

Their situation's an extreme one, of course, but you do start to get worn down by everyone's rudeness. A particular favourite of mine is being forced to step into a main road because a group of pedestrians won't budge to let you past. This happens so regularly it's practically become the norm and, my God, is it tiring; why can't we just help each other out?

As well as avoiding beggars' eyeslines, Rob and I just generally caught up. I asked him if he might be interested in directing my Edinbugh show (provided he can fit it around his work and personal commitments) and he said yes. This is great news as he's just the right man for the job, who understands my style of comedy while also knowing how to direct a show and how to add to it. I'm hoping his involvement will help me feel a little less rudderless. It will be nice to have an outside eye I trust; fingers crossed he does it.

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