Checking the Small Print.


My life often feels like a catalogue of wasted time...as it did today, when I spent a few hours editing a poster for my Leicester Comedy Festival show to the most of a special one-day-only printing offer, only to find it wasn't applicable unless you went to their shop in Brighton to pick the artwork up.

(Fuck’s sake.)

To be fair, it wasn’t my fault, as the email I’d received from the company made no mention of this caveat until you clicked through to their website to commence your order. While this wasn't a disaster, I wouldn’t have made the poster yesterday if it weren’t for the mention of the special deal, as I had a lot that needed to be done for tomorrow’s Mostly Comedy instead; it’s not as if I can excuse myself from being funny at the gig, because I’d been limping through some primitive graphic design on Photoshop.

(The programme I was using was Gimp, but I didn’t mention this above, due to the word's negative connotations.)

Thankfully, the day wasn’t lost. I did manage to have a brief look at some new material that I may try tomorrow, as well as emailing the acts that are appearing and doing the lion’s share of the slideshow for it. I also met Glyn at The Sun Hotel in the evening to do an hour of prep before he had to rush off. It’s still not how I would have liked to spent my time though; a good poster does not a rehearsed show make.

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