The Comedian's Comedian Podcast - Lindsey Santoro

Episode Date: February 19, 2026

Lindsey Santoro shot to prominence at 2023’s Edinburgh Fringe, winning Next Up’s Biggest Award in Comedy with her show, Pink Tinge.Since then, Lindsey has created her hit BBC Radio 4 comedy series, The Lively Life of Lindsey Santoro, appeared on Live at the Apollo and supported Joe Lycett on tour! We discuss:using comedy as a tool for connectionbalancing a NHS day job with the crushing anxiety of early comedy gigsearning critical acclaim at Edinburgh, the financial surprises and attic life at the Pleasanceescaping imposter syndromethe importance of having a "base" outside of comedyand we find out if Lindsey Santoro is happy….Join the Insiders Club at Patreon.com/ComComPod where you can instantly WATCH the full episode and get access to 13 minutes of exclusive extras including:how Lindsey’s BBC Radio 4 series came abouthow her agent kept her grounded through Edinburgh and balancing ambition with sanity👉 Sign up to the NEW ComComPod Mailing List and follow the show on Instagram, YouTube & TikTok.Catch Up with Lindsey: You can see Lindsey Santoro live, including an upcoming work-in-progress at the Pleasance London - find out more at lindseysantoro.co.uk. You can also keep up-to-date on Instagram, @lindsey_santoro.Support our independently produced Podcast from only £3/month at Patreon.com/ComComPod:✅ Instant access to full video and ad-free audio episodes✅ 13 minutes of exclusive extra content with Lindsey✅ Early access to new episodes where possible✅ Exclusive membership offerings including a monthly “Stu&A”PLUS you’ll get access to the full back catalogue of extras you can find nowhere else!Everything I'm up to: Come and see me LIVE including at the Leicester Comedy Festival! Find out all the info and more at stuartgoldsmith.com/comedy.Discover my comedy about the climate crisis, for everyone from activists to CEOs, at stuartgoldsmith.com/climate. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Hello and welcome to the show. Stuart Goldsmith here. This is The Comedians Comedian podcast and today I'm talking to wonderful Lindsay Santoro, who you will know from being the big old winner of Next Up's biggest award in comedy in 2023 at the Edinburgh Fringe with her show Pink Tinge. And since then, as well as what has she done to her hit BBC Radio 4 comedy series, the lively life of Lindsay Santoro. We'll talk about that a little bit here. That's still available on BBC Sound. and you should definitely download and listen to that. It's very, very funny. And she's also been on Live at the Apollo, and not to mention she's also supported Joe Lyset on tour. And he's doing those kind of things. And I'm fairly certain she has a new podcast coming out with Harriet Dyer and Amy Mason,

who are both brilliant, wonderful comics. And I'm really, I mean, this is, I believe, and this is not official press release, this is Green Room Chat, but I believe they've recorded a bunch of them, paused it, recorded a bunch more, and they're hopefully going to get their skates on and release it pretty soon. However, that's not an official press release, and probably I'll wait until they tell me about it,

and then I'll shout about it on the socials, because that is an absolute comedy powerhouse of a triumvirate. But for now, in the first half of this episode, we're going to talk to Lindsay about using comedy as a tool for connection. We'll find out about her balancing her NHS day job with the crushing anxiety of early comedy gigs. And we'll talk about financial surprises, critical acclaim at Edinburgh, attic life at the pleasance, and all of that to come. This is very much another splash of sunshine one because Lindsay is someone whose attitude I absolutely wish I could faithfully replicate. Before we get into it, of course, if you want to, you can get the extra content with Lindsay. That's available to members of the Insiders Club, along with the full audio and the full video as well, not to mention the very special episode 500. Stewnay, hosted by a very special guest or guests, and of course, a lovely, warm, fuzzy feeling

that is just, you can't put a price on it, really, that fuzzy feeling. Supporting a thing you love and going, ooh, I've done a good thing there. And you get to feel that feeling every month when your £3 goes out of your account and into the coffers of Comcom. So find out more at patreon.com.com. But for now, here without further ado is Lindsay Santoro. Hello, Lindsay Santoro and welcome to the podcast. We've just been setting up technically for five minutes, and I've been laughing the entire time because you are an inherently funny person.

Thank you very much. I think that's a compliment. I shall have it. We don't know each other very well, and I'm conscious that I haven't seen your hour, the hour that you did most recently at Edinburgh, which I would normally insist upon seeing or hearing or what have you. But I've seen your Apollo set, And we gig together in Lemington, I feel like, for Ryan Moll.

Did we gig in Lemington at somewhere opposite a statue of Queen Victoria? Oh, yeah. I didn't know I'd do a school gig. And then you came and did my PTA gig after that. Yes, I've got a school gig in Bristol that I do. So I've seen you there, which you absolutely smashed that. But the Leamington one I particularly remember, because I remember you came off and I said, that's the Apollo bit.

And you laughed. And then it was the Apollo bit. And I went, yes, I knew it. I called it. So how do we find you? How are you doing? I'm okay. I've had a bit of a chest infection last week.

So I'm a bit, um, and I, do you know what it's like when you're self-employed? As soon as you get ill, you think, oh God, there's 200 quid I'm going to lose.

Oh, I'm sorry about your chest infection. Oh, no, I'll be, I'm fine. I'm fine. Are you, at home? currently. I can see, because you look like you're in quite a sort of professionally neutral space, except there's a Thai fighter on the shelf behind you. Oh, this is my, well, this, yes, I'm at home. My husband's got a room to him. Well, it was a room to himself. And then I've slowly, um, taken over. So he's got like a wall of Lego. I don't

know if you can see every, you can see a bit of it. He's got a Batman, not a Batman car. Just lots of Lego. And, you know, nerdy stuff. But it was his room and it's got a little sofa in it in a telly and like a, what do you call it? I can't think of words. The flat discs that make music. CDs. No, the bigger ones.

Laser discs. No, bigger than that. Record player. Records. Sorry, yes. Records. Like it's a very man cave. And then I bought my own desk in and then slowly I've taken over the room.

But he's got his shelf. of Lego and that's all he's allowed. Oh, good. Good. Well, this seems perfectly reasonable. And you're in Birmingham, are you? Yes. Or near? Yes. No, I'm in South Brum, Northfield. There's a terrible rumour going around, Stuart.

I'm not happy about it. I've moved to London. And, oh, I just saw a magpie. I've got a wave at it. I'm superstitious. But I haven't moved to London. I'm definitely, I'm still here, yeah. Why do you say it's a terrible, why do you imagine there's a rumour going around? that you've moved to London. People keep seeing,

whenever I'm going to London, people go, well, if you moved down here, someone told me you live down here now. And I'm like, who's spreading this life about me? Like I'm making enough money. Come on.

So how, let's talk about your comedy. How, like, I don't know the first thing about you, Lindsay. All I know about you, I listen to your Radio 4 show, which I loved, which is so funny and so silly. And it's just,

pack with jokes and pat with personality and I know that you did when you did your Edinburgh show last year was that your first Edinburgh show or have you done loads that I'm that I did no that was my first one because I well I just kept putting it off because I was so concerned about the cost of it and then because I'm with curb now they're really really good at kind of holding your hand through it I'd find they were like look we divide costs we do that and I was like okay okay and they were like you can't I was like I don't need to go to Edinburgh and they were like if you go you might find you're pleasantly surprised because I didn't think I'd get nominated or I don't I just I just found it very well you know

what it's like you're up there for a month and you just think it's it's a different world it's like you disconnect with the rest of the world for a month it's very hard odd. Very odd. So, you know, I enjoyed it in a weird way. Oh, the money. No one tells you how much money. Money, money. Yeah, it does. I mean, I think, do people not tell you how much money it is? I feel like everyone tells you. I feel like every, every comedian is, like, the only good thing about going to Edinburgh and losing seven grand. The only positive is that you can tell everyone it cost you seven grand. Yeah. Everybody was like, they were like, this is how much. it's going to cost.

And I was like, okay. But in my head and I don't know why. I was like, that's not going to happen to me. That's not going to happen to me. No way. And then at the end I was like, oh, it did. And that did quite well, I thought. Yeah.

Did you get the, well, the killer is like you'd get, you get the settlement and you've sold out. I don't know. What room are you in? I was in the, the hot one upstairs in the Pleasance, the top. Was it the attic? The attic. The attic.

The attic. The attic. The attic. They had an aircon unit there. Was it on? That's cheating. That's cheating. It wasn't air con in my day.

You can't be air conditioning the attic. It's a rise. It's plastic. So you did, yeah, so the killer there is you come back and you've sold out your run and you maybe put on a couple of extra shows. And then you look at the numbers and you're like, I owe them three grand. How's this happening? It's mad. It's absolutely mad.

And I remember saying to myself, I'm not doing it again. And every year they go, you're going back? And I'm like, no. And this year, next year, what year is it? 2026. I've said, right, I will do it. I'll go for two weeks.

Okay. And they were like, oh, okay, we'll talk to you again in January. And I was like, oh, God, they're going to make me do the month. Yeah, I feel like they are going to make you do the month. So where do we start? Can you tell me, like, how long have you been doing stand-up? This is a good question, because I'm not too sure myself. I started, I did James Cook in Birmingham

runs a comedy course and I did that oh I want to say 2013 but that might not be the right year and then I, because I always liked comedy and I always thought I'm quite funny but I was too petrified I would say I'm absolutely petrified of doing it I thought I'm not even going to try it because it's one of them we're like if I fail and it's rubbish

my life is over there's no point that's my dream so don't do it oh I see that's actually I wonder if that's quite unusual

that's not what I was expecting you to say I can imagine the fear of like do I do it for the first time what if it goes wrong but particularly my life is over

in your case representing like that's that's the dream such that if I'm bad the dream is over yeah that's huge

how long had it been your dream I remember I've been in my dad's car. We used to go on drives and he would have comedy tapes. You remember we used to buy him from the service station? And there was Isard and Alan Davies and stuff

and we'd listen to that and Monty Python and I was like, and I remember in my head going, right, I know I'm not going to be clever and I know I'm not attractive. What else can I bring to the table? I know. jokes about fannies. And I'd registered that.

And I must have been about nine. Because I remember like poo and wee is funny. So I was like this is. And then I thought, yeah, I'm going to do comedy. But they never wanted to do it because I was like, I'm just, if it's bad, I can't deal with the rejection of it. Very strange. And I remember, and then when puberty hit, and I was like, oh no, being funny is not attractive.

It's like I've done myself, isn't it? Just to slow down through that. So you made this big decision at 9. And then from 9 to 13, you were funny. And then when puberty hit, you were like, oh, no, I've optimized the wrong thing. Yes, essentially. But then I thought I'm in it now. So let's crack on.

And so we've got to stay with that a bit longer. So I'm in it now. So this is your hit puberty around 13. From 9 to 13, you'd been funny. And you'd kind of, had you, like when you're, You say you'd been funny is that you kind of made it a core part of your personality. Was that one of like your, did you feel it was like, well, I've got this. I know I'm funny.

That's my special skill. Yeah, yeah. So I think naturally, like if you meet my mum, she's very funny. And my dad's quite, I don't want to say dry, but it's very sarcastic with his humour. So he kind of merged the two. Okay. And it was, yeah, I just like making people laugh. Because I was always very good at making friends.

I like having friends and so like if I can make someone laugh that means they loves me This is a commonly held belief But it's I just think Utilise what you've got If you're a bit daft Don't shy away from it

And that's something I mean I was very shy Like around my friends I was very funny But like if you ask people I went to school with Do you remember her They'd go oh no But like around my friends

I would show off and be very silly and yeah. Is that, can I ask as well, just when we're dealing with this poor nine-year-old who's thinking I'm not attractive and I'm not smart. Oh, come on. You know when you look at yourself,

I've got like a fat head and my eyebrows join in the middle. Listen, come on. I'm trying to establish whether we're, whether we're like this nine-year-old girl. Let's be kind to this nine-year-old girl. I'm trying to establish whether, you've, whether these fears were kind of unfounded, like a sort of pathological or a sort of a therapy

bait kind of like, they were not unfounded. I'll send you a photo. You have a look. You'll be like, yeah, I see what she did there. Oh God. Did it, did these, I'm not going to, I'm not going to condone this viewpoint, but I respect no, please, no, don't love me, sir. I love me. I love me. Well, this is what I was going to say. Were you, was that like, it's from the. way you're portraying it, it does sound like you've, you had a good relationship with yourself. You just felt like, like, it's an incredibly matter-of-fact thing for a nine-year-old to think, well, I don't look much and I'm not that smart, but I'm a good egg. So I've got something to

give. That's essentially, I don't want it to be like, woe is me, what a mess. I was like, right, let's make the most of a situation that we're in. And what have we got to offer? We can, we can make people love. Okay, we've got a good imagination. Let's roll. Let's with that. When we, you know, and then we'll just say how we get our, maybe when I'm older, if I get some boobs, we can change tactic. But at the moment, let's go with funniness. Okay, okay, gotcha, gotcha.

I think that's an important distinction. Yes, please. I very much think I'm wonderful, so don't worry about my. And where can I ask where, again, very grown up attitude for a nine-year-old, I love me, I think I'm wonderful. Like, has that been a lifelong thing? Did you feel like that when you were nine? No.

What a wonderful bedrock. Everyone thinks comedians are secretly sad. What a lovely thing to hear from a comedian going, no, I love me and I'm brilliant. I very much, it's quite narcissistic, isn't it really? When you're like, no, I am great. Everyone else has a problem. Well, it would seem narcissistic if you weren't so lovely and happy and funny.

I just remember being like at school and it was, I don't, I wasn't really unhappy. I wasn't really, I wasn't bullied, but like, I was just kind of wanted to fly under the radar and get on with my life. And that was kind of just what I did. And in my head I was like, I remember saying to my friend at the time, we're not friends now. And she, I said to her, and it was like a secret. I remember about 14. I said, I think I want to do stand-up comedy.

And she went, well, you're funny, but you're only like funny to us. and I was like, oh. Oh. And she just said it as like an irony, but to me it was like, oh, maybe I am just funny. Like, you know when you see a bloat down the pub and they're like, oh, he's great, you should do stand-up and then you meet him, he shouldn't. Yeah, okay. That feels big. That feels big for someone who wanted to be funny.

If you've spent the years from 9 to 14 thinking, I've got a thing. and then to have a friend at the time kick a hole in it. Is that the sort of thing that then triggers a young Lindsay Santoro to gird her loins and say, right, I'm going to prove this friend wrong? No, it did the opposite.

I was like, oh, okay, well, that's that over then. Oh, you believed them? Yeah. You went, oh, I guess, oh, some outside feedback, that must be true. Okay, okay. But you've got to remember that this, like, hormones are everywhere.

Once they'd settled, and this has obviously stayed with me. because it's still in my head. I remember going, oh, hang on a minute, hang on, she wasn't right. And I was about,

oh, I think, oh, this has just come back to me. I was 18. I'd never done comedy before. And I entered the Funny Women Awards. Okay.

Oh, and then they said, yeah, you can come and do it. And then I pulled out last minute. Oh. I was too scared to do it. Okay.

So you said, and like I think of funny women now, I suppose when you're, like those awards specifically, any kind of comedy awards, when you've been doing it for a while, you think, oh, that is a thing that people would benefit from doing tactically and working up a set and arriving and what have you. But comedy is absolutely filled with people who didn't understand the system,

turned up thinking, oh, you just get on stage and make it up, do really well, and then 10 years later they're a professional comedian. How do you think you'd have done if you'd turned up, like, unprepared? Or would you have prepared? I would have been awful. I know I would have been awful. I know within myself. That's why I was like, don't do this to yourself.

Don't do this. Because I remember I just googled women comedy. Because I was like, where do I start? And it just came up with the Funny Women Award. And I was like, oh, okay. So I just applied. And they were like, yeah. If you're a funny enough woman, they let you just, you wonder on.

They assess whether you're funny. and then they decide whether you can be a comedian or not. And then I was like, I can't do this. This is mad. So I didn't. Yeah. So then how long was it between then and your first actual foray into doing stand-up? Oh, gosh.

I think I was 28 or 27. And my friend Toby had booked onto a comedy course because I used to play Roller Darby. This is of an inlet of my life. You are a guessable answer to a quiz question, which comedian used to play Roller Dhabi. I think I would probably get you in my first three questions. And I loved it.

And Toby was one of the refs and like one of the coaches. And he's, he's, Toby, because again, that's just a group of women. And I was the funny one at Roller Derby. What was your name? Did you have a special name when you do Rolleroy? Oh, yeah. So I had two. I started off as Threat Midler.

and then but then because before I got married I was called HALS, H-U-L-S-A so I was the incredible H-U-L-S-A Oh that's nice It's not as good as Threat Meddler Why would you change? Well everyone just kept calling me Holes

So I was like, oh I give up Oh fair enough Just change it And he'd booked onto this He's one of these people that just He does lots of different things He'll sign up to like I can't even think of anything

but like he'll just do random some at the centre tain and he'll have a go and then go and do something else. It's very like good like that and he said oh I'm doing a stand-up comedy course and I think you'd actually quite like that and I was like well yes so I did that and I think that was eight weeks at the Midlands Arts Centre

and at the end of it. Who taught him? James Cook James Cook. Oh is James Cook's course? I see I see I thought he was yeah right okay he's very good because he can't give you a breakdown of everything and then at the end of it he goes this is all my advice and feel free to not listen to it because you don't have to. And I was like, oh. And then you did the show at the end.

I could get into a career in this industry. Yeah, I was like, I could do what I want. Yeah. That was a laugh. And it's just the show at the end. I remember being studding the corridor, waiting to go on. And I felt sick and I was sweaty. And I was going to run away.

But there was another act on called Dave, it was about seven. foot and he was blocking the corridor. I thought I can't get out. The only way on is to go on the stage and then out the door. So I was like, well, I'll have to go on. And I wrote, where is it? I wrote my set on a bottle of water. Have you got it?

I would love to see it if it's to hand. It's got me somewhere. Hang on. I think it's on the cupboard. Oh, there is. I don't know if you can see it. Oh, I love it. Oh, so this was written on a bottle of water so that it could,

This was written on a bottle of water so that it could be a visible cue card on stage. Yeah, so it says court pregnancy question mark. I can't remember that joke. Chea, I don't know what that is.

The internet, I don't know what that is, old movies, gentleman's balls. Oh, that joke was you can tell a man is a gentleman, not if he opens the door for you, if he just washes his balls before he puts them on your head. What a fucking...

Do you know, when you look back at this, I think, God. Oh, yeah. My God. So does anyone do this? Was this a concept at some point? I've seen to remember, comics would do their first ever gig material. Like established comics would try and reprise

or reprise the material they said the first time they stepped on stage. I'm sure someone did that, maybe like an Edinburgh show or something. I feel like that is a nightmare. I look at this now and I feel, because I went, I did the five minutes and I remember thinking, wow, that went well. Like, that was great.

Yeah. And I was like, I got like the taste of it. Blah! But if I, oh, these, no, I'm just looking at them. I can't even remember half of them are. Which is dreadful. What else do you remember about the experience of being on stage for that first time? Pure panic, I think.

It was pure panic. I remember I could hear my own heart in my head. I couldn't remember my set. So I kept looking at the bottle, but to look at the bottle, I kept curtsey in after a joke as if to say thank you, but I was actually looking at the bottle. And then when I came off,

I was like, oh, that was mad. That was crazy. But then the jarringness of going to do an open mic but it's not full of friends and family after that. It's such a shock to the system, isn't it? Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. Yes, it's a funny, it's a really weird. Were you prepared for that?

Like, did anything in the course prepare you for that? I feel like James is smart enough that he would have gone. So that was that. But the real competition, I mean, it wasn't a competition, I guess. Like, the real first gig has yet to happen. Yeah, yeah. So you've got to put yourself through it again. It was an open.

And it was, it was, oh, I just, there was, oh, yeah, yeah. But it was good because I thought, if I can do this, I can do, I can do. But you know what I did, which people think, some people start comedy and then just gig, gig and gig. I gig like once every six months for like the first four, three or four years. Because I was too stressed. I'd get sick before I went on. Oh, okay. Okay.

I'd have to book a day off work and everything. I couldn't go on. What was work at the time? What were you doing? I was a personal assistant in the NHS. Oh, good for you. Oh, very good. Got a bit of a pension to fall back on if it goes around.

Thank God. Okay. Okay. So you were, and you found it so stressful that even if the gig went well, you'd have to book a day off work the day after the gig. Yeah, and before. To recover from the stress and before. Yeah.

That's quite unusual. Why, talk to me about that stress. Have you kind of, have you got any theories about why that hit you so hard? I think I'm quite an anxious person. Well, I am. I know I am. And I've got better as I've got older. But I used to just be so, I think, again, what I said, it's like,

I always wanted to do stand-up and the idea of it going terribly wrong. Just, oh, no, oh. And even now I can't think of any scenario where I would be like, this is the worst thing that's ever happened and as you go on with comedy you realise that everybody has shit gigs everybody dies on their ass

everyone does and one bad gig in my head I'm going to have one terrible gig like Sarah Milliken's going to be there for some reason at a pub in Craigley Eve she's going to see it

she's going to tell people not to speak to me just catastrophizing. And then I'd be so worried because my memory is quite terrible. So I'm not going to remember my set and what I've realised now as I've gone on is I just have keywords and how I get to there is fine.

It doesn't, no one's going to remember. And I also kept thinking I had to do new material every time. Yes, God. That should be day one of every comedy course. Just so you know, comics work on a set and then build on it and build on it and build on it because I hear that all the time that people think, oh God, it's got to be different. My son, when he was six, he did a handful of his own one-liners at a gig in Bestival, at Camp Bestival. It was like Comedy for Kids gig, and I got him up on stage because he wrote jokes.

And he had a really good gig, they're very funny jokes. Last year, he's nine now. Earlier this year, he was at Glastonbury, and he did his set to 1,200 people in the Astro Lane Tend, while I was comparing. and he refused to do any jokes from his previous set three years earlier. He was like, that's my old stuff. I was like, mate, it's exactly this thing. It's exactly this thing, you idiot. And I always think sometimes I can't remember my own set. So how is someone from last year going to remember what I said?

I think memory is a huge challenge for me. I've only recently in the last couple of years realized that most of my fear before a gig, I think I'm just nervous about the gig going well, but what I'm really nervous about is failing to remember the stuff and looking like an idiot because I can't remember what comes next. And as a result, my style, for want of a better word, has always grown up around that. Like, I quite enjoy being in freefall and not knowing what happens next. And I've got loads of tactics to deal with it. But it's all based on this key fear. Like, if you told me, you can just have a, you know, a teleprompter, you can always have an idiot board hidden in the same.

the audience for the rest of your career and no one will ever know, the sigh of relief would be heard around the world. It's just like, imagine. Like doing an hour set, I was just like, this is bad. It was, uh, I, I kind of did a few gigs and then I was like, well, maybe comedy isn't working out. I can't remember any. And then I did, um, Maureen Younger, that's the thing as I said, I wouldn't go too far because I couldn't be bothered. Maureen Younger put, um, she was running a, like a new a new act kind of night

in Kings Heath by me. And she put on, oh, because I joined all the Facebook groups like, uh, I'm going to join her to give me. And it was a women's Facebook comedy group and she put up saying, I need a five tonight. And I was like, okay, I can do that because I've got no time to

stress about it. Yes. Yeah, great. On a message show and I said, let's go. And she's like, great. Went on. because obviously I've done you do open mics and you're like well this is live forever now and that was a proper

lovely gig and I was like oh they can all this is how it should be shouldn't it these gigs? And she was so supportive of me Maureen she was like that was great she was like come do this I'll put you in touch with these people

and then that's when I kind of realised a lot of this industry is about who you know and who runs a gig and who can, yeah, it's a funny little world. Even just you saying that now, I think of, like, I hope I'm sort of helpful to people that I see around me. But I do forget, you've only just reminded me now, when you're new and you don't know anyone, someone else who's proper, in inverted commas, saying, oh, you should gig for these people. Why don't you ring these people and tell them, I said, you're good, and they should give you a gig? That's manor from heaven, isn't it? That's huge.

Yeah, but I couldn't even do that. Because of the stress. They were like ring, ring, I don't know, ring Carol, tell her that I said you were good. I'm like, no. So Carol can ring me. I'm not getting involved. This stress, I'm really interested in this, like the kind of starting point for this, in this conversation at least, was about you saying, if I do badly, then it means that the dream goes away.

And was that still the stress then? This is why you're gigging every six months. You're doing well, but every six months you do a gig and you get completely overwhelmed with stress about it. Is it for the same fear? Is it the idea being that if I do a bad one, then I'm proving that this massively important thing to me isn't the right fit? Essentially, so I was like, I don't want it to go wrong because this is what I want to do. But I don't want anyone to know it's what I want to do. But I do it.

But at the same time, I don't. It was very odd. And I was like, if I had... I don't know, if I commit myself to something, I think I want to do it. And then I realise, this is what I realise. If I gig more often, it's less stressful. And I was like, if I just keep doing it, my body's now used to it. And now I'm fine, absolutely fine.

But back in the day, I'm like, I can't do it. I'm going to be sick. What if I have diarrhea? God. Yeah, but that went away after a boat. That took, oh, let's say, four or five years to get rid of that. Still get really nervous for a go on. Terrible.

Do you? It's so funny because you are one of the most naturally funny comics I could name. I mean, you've got that kind of walk on stage twinkling your eye. We're already laughing before you start speaking with quality. Do you know me? You do. So it's staggering to me that you still get really nervous beforehand. This is Lindsay.

You can tell you. It's sort of here that she's got pink hair, I think, because she's so zingy. You can see Lindsay live, including an upcoming work in progress at the Pleasance London. Find out more at Lindsay santoro.com.uk. That's Lindsay with an E, and the link is in the show notes. You can also keep up to date on Instagram at Lindsay underscore Santoro. And it would be funny if that was Lindsay with an A, but it's not the case because she spells it with an E. That's at Lindsay underscore Santoro.

You can see me live in Leicester tomorrow, Thursday the 20th of February, if today is still Wednesday, the 19th of February, and I'm going to be absolutely loopy because all going to plan I'm going to be arriving into Heathrow, having had some sort of ludicrous long flight from Phoenix, Arizona. So, ideally, I'll sleep on a variety of trains. I might try and do a couple of laps of the circle line just to get some kip before making my way up to Lester. But I've also got work-in-progress stuff in Bristol, in London, in Swindon, in Marlborough, all sorts of stuff coming up. Find out more about that. It's Stuartgoldsmith.com slash comedy. very near to being able to

officially tell you the title and the dates and the deets of my new Edinburgh show, but I'm going to save that until there's an official trumpet centered launch. You can sign up to the Comcom Pod monthly mailing list at Stuartgoldsmith.com and find out oh now tell you what, if you do sign up to that,

we're getting pretty good now at regularly chucking out. Oh, that's where that went. I was fiddling with a bulldog clip earlier on and I've just found it on the sort of weird rubbery lapel bit of my ocean bottle reusable bottle. So good to know. In the... Oh, what was I going to say? Oh yeah, in the mailing list, what we're doing in the

main list at the moment, because Callum is pinning me down and making me do stuff, not only are we doing little kind of dips and dives into pertinent stuff from this month's episodes, but we're also shouting out comedy specials available on YouTube that you should be watching and things like that. So do sign up to the mailing list. It has more value now than it has ever had. In the second half, we'll talk about

escaping imposter syndrome, different experiments with different writing techniques, having a base outside of comedy and how important that is emotionally. And we'll find out whether or not the bastard's happy. Let's get back to Lindsay. What form do the nerves take now? What is it that you're nervous about? Does it kind of accrete around maybe forgetting your words or is it the nervousness about having a bad gig or about kind of proving or disproving something to yourself, what's it about? Now it's about I get imposter syndrome because I'm like how I'm like a gig with people I go

I shouldn't be even near you. What am I doing here with you? Who's dropped out for me to be on this bill? And that makes me strange. No, but don't come you know what it when you're like, fuck. And I get nervous that I still get, I get nervous that I'm not going to be able to control my nerves. Yeah, okay. Which is strange. But like I What if I go on and go, oh.

But now I know I can, but I still always before a gig, I have a bit of a, oh, God, what if you just, you know, stop talking? I know that's not going to happen. Just have a chat with myself now. But yeah, that's, that's, that's, it's a, it's the weirdest job, isn't it?

When you think about it, you're in a room, shouting at people who were sat in the dark. Why? I don't want to pull it apart. too much because it's a job. It is one of those things whereby, the thing it always reminds me of is, you know, Douglas Adams, who did The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, he's got this thing,

I've not thought about this at ages. There's at one point, Arthur Dent goes to this school where they teach you how to fly. And like physically just without anything, you just jump off a thing. And what they do is, they jump out of a bush and distract you at the last moment. And the joke is that you forget to crash. So you just end up flying. That's the gag. But an element of it is, it's essential.

the line is it something like it's essential at no point to think well this is impossible because it suddenly becomes impossible and i think comedy's just like that i think it's like if you think and i think of this when you see people doing big arena tours i know you've done support for joe liceet probably in some big old rooms i've done support in some big old rooms and you just sort of think this is if you if you take this to bits if you think about this it doesn't make any sense at all that everyone's here to see this one person and all they're going to do is just talk and say some things and that's going to satisfy 16,000 people who've spent 50 quid each. Like, how can that possibly make any sense?

Even at a smaller giggling level, I still feel that all the time. I'm about to go up the steps and walk onto the stage somewhere. And I'm just thinking, God, I could just not do this because it's insane. I do know what? No one else in the room wants to do this. Why would they? I don't want to do. What am I doing?

And then it's sort of essential to just go, no, no, no, no, don't listen to that. Tamper it down, tamp it down. Because if I do, if I think about it for too long, it might all fall apart. Yeah, I can't. It's, it's, it's, but then I'm grateful that other people, because if everyone in the audience wanted to do it, we wouldn't have jobs. So, yeah, it's a weird, it's a weird job. It is weird. What do you remember being the first bit of material that you wrote or that you had that, that made you feel like this is me?

this is who I am. Oh, God. I don't know. I don't know how I write. This is a straight. I don't know how I write. And people, and I used to have, you know, like whiteboard stickers,

and I used to just write things when I thought they were funny. And then my books are just words. And, like, I'll have a honed routine. and I'll look at it and I'll go back through my head and I'm like, where, how did I write this? When did I write this? Where's this coming from?

Okay, okay. But I can't, I don't have a process. And people often ask me, how did you? And I go, I don't know. Sometimes I will have a joke that I want, not necessarily a punchline. I go, I want to talk about this. And I'll get on stage and the pure panic

will take me to a punchline or not, sometimes. Yeah, it's weird. think that one of the, it's just a thing I reflect on with this podcast, which we've going for years and years and years, I think I've contributed to a not always helpful sense, or it may have contributed to this not always helpful sense that there's this thing called writing that you have to do. And I think that can probably feel quite alienating to people. I remember talking like episode five or something was me talking to Paul Sinha. He never writes

any of it down. He just thinks about it in his car. He thinks these incredible routines just thinks them to himself and he never writes anything down. That's mad though. It's mental, isn't it? There's no system. And I think sometimes when you're new to it or even if you're not, you can, I don't know people who've been going for 20 years who still feel perpetually on the outside of how it's done properly or why don't do it properly.

And again, that's part of the madness of like, don't think about it too long because however you do it is how you do it and that's you doing it properly. I wish I had a structure that would be quite useful. If I could sit down and just go, right, let's write some jokes. But I don't. Have you, go on. What's the tomato set thing? Pomodoro.

You do 25 minutes writing and then five minute break. Lice said told me about that. He was like, this is what I did. And I was like, okay, I'll try that. But what I did was five minutes writing and a 25 minute break. And I was like, I'm not getting anything done. Oh, that's like an ultra-pomodoro. That's amazing.

I've gone backwards. But that was quite useful. But then my husband was like, doing it the wrong way. And I was like, now this is the way I want to do it. Five minutes in tents. 25-minute break. But sometimes I'd write on a computer. I bought an iPad because I thought I'd get one of them little pens and I could scribble on it,

but then I didn't like that. I like to have a book. I can just write stuff in. I don't really know. And there's some jokes that I remember, and I go, oh, I haven't done that for ages, because I forgot about it. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.

And now it's come back. And then I'll go and live my life. And then I'll go, what was that joke I thought about three hours ago? Oh, it's gone again. Yeah, that's a killer. You've got to be able to write down the stuff that comes to you. I remember Stephen Grant saying, if you don't write down the joke that comes to you later,

all you'll remember is that something came to you. Yeah, I did that all the time. It's terrible, terrible, terrible. Well, sometimes I just write down a word and then I'll come back to it and go, well, I can't remember what the context was for this. So was your debut show last year? Was that all of your best bits for the whole of your comedy career?

I don't think so. I tried to have a narrative, but then I didn't want one, but then I'd started it. So it was kind of in chunks of like, me, other women, having a child. That's it. And then the thread of my husband through it. But I wouldn't say it was my best.

Maybe it is my best bits. Do you know, I never recorded it? And they can't remember what I did. That's so funny. It's so funny you never recorded it. I never recorded it. The only evidence I've got is notebooks of keywords. I've got some sound recordings.

Okay, okay. But they're from like, start of the fringe and then you know how things check so it's just gone to the ether now and people are like oh you've got to read to do that show again i was like i don't think i can remember what i remember the start and the end so are you now if you're thinking about your management saying Edinburgh next year and you're going yeah maybe yeah yeah so like how long how much stuff have you got towards Edinburgh next year if that's not a horrifying question like how do you feel about it. Probably about 15 minutes.

Which I think at this stage isn't, you've got to compare it like, this is fine, I shouldn't but you go, some people, and I know, don't write it till like the week before or have a, you know, and I think this is fine. I'm doing some new material stuff next week.

I've got to do 20 minutes of new, so that'll be, I'll just talk slow. So what have you got for that 20 minutes of you have you got some words or some ideas where what does it look like that what does that 20 minutes look like at the moment is it nothing at all or is it what it's very much about me saying I want to be more confident but not confident like outgoing like confident in myself but then also everyone's like well you are anyway and I was like well yeah so it's kind of just saying I want to go up and just be like, this is me.

And if you feel that you're not good enough, I'm me and compare yourself to me, you are, you will. If I can do this, you are great. So come on. It's essentially the sort of self-help based on throwing yourself under the bus. Yeah, going, look, I'm a piece of shit and I still think I'm fucking brilliant. So you should. But I'm self-aware.

Yeah. It's, I mean, I'm, without for a minute agreeing that you are a piece of shit. Yeah, that's a bit, yeah. It's really, it's really sort of positive and joyful to hear someone really believe in themselves. It's incredibly, you're so engaging on that front, the way that you can talk about, you know, like sort of a warts and all version. Some of your material about, you know, just about like that joke of your joke of yours. about boobs aren't sisters, they're sisters, not twins, or mine have got different dads.

It's such a good joke. But it's like you're really kind of exposing of yourself. You're really like, well, I'm just like this. This is just kind of reality. It's so unpretentious. And like I could completely imagine you doing a show, the resolution of which is you saying what you just said to be there about, like, I tried to do this.

And then I just stopped. Curtain. I can completely see you doing that and thriving doing that. Because you have this kind of magnetic, I don't know, what is it? It's one part self-awareness and two parts optimism and something else.

There is, I mean, do you recognise that you've got this quality that audiences just roll over for? I think it can be quite jarring because I know people that really don't like it. But that's not my problem. That's their problem. But me as myself, I'm happy with, but me doing comedy, this is where I get nervous,

because I just, I can't join the two, which is a shame. Like, I'm very like me, I am me, great. But when I'm on stage, I'm like, I am me. Oh, blues, actually, do you mind liking me for 20 minutes? Yeah, it's a funny thing, isn't it? But also, it's very, it's like I don't care, but I do. Oh, who was talking to, someone said to me the other day, If you were the lottery, would you still do comedy?

And I said, no. Okay. Okay, that's, I feel like that's a question I should be asking of everyone. And it comes on there. It's a great question. Yeah. And I was, I was like, I don't think I would. Because I feel like I've already achieved quite everything.

Because the dream, obviously, is the Apollo. You've got, I've done the Apollo. And I was like, right, I'll stop now. And then I was like, oh, no, I need to get the gutter in done. So I better carry on. But I feel quite content with one. I've got, if that makes sense. Yeah.

But, yeah, I won the lottery. Just fuck it off. Thanks. It's been a laugh. Do you think that kind of contentment, like is that useful for writing the next show? Or is it a challenge? Because actually you're quite happy as you are.

I think it's a challenge. And I don't know if you've found this talking to people. I think that a lot of comedians are not every. but I just like chasing this and then chasing this and then chasing this. Yeah. And I'm like, I'm really happy actually with what I've got. Like I've got a lovely family. I'm healthy to a degree, unless I eat an egg, then, ooh, straight through me.

But I'm quite healthy. I'm terrible. And if I stopped doing comedy and had to go back to like a 9 to 5, fine. It's fine. because I'm happy. That's so good to hear. It's nice because I've got this far. And I feel like it was a hobby

that had a dream that's kind of like, how have I even got this far? Sometimes I go, this is crazy. And my nan said to me, imagine if you'd actually tried. Good show title. Good show title, Lindsay. That's a hell of a title.

Imagine if you'd actually try. What did she say? The other day. Oh, she said, you've made your point now. You can stop, can't you? And I was like, all right. She follows me on Instagram. That's a blocker from everything.

Oh, my God. Yeah, but I'm quite content. I'm quite content. I do what I want. Live my own life. Don't spread a room I'm living in London. I'll get you. I'll have you.

This is almost kind of, This is sort of revelatory. Right. This is like you are someone who has. You've achieved the dream, which is you seem to have divested your sense of self-worth from your work. Like, having a bad gig, what's it like when you have a bad gig?

Does it affect this kind of happiness about life in general? Because so many comics are caught up in like, I've got, I need this or I'm not a good person. Or I'm not worthwhile somehow. What I would say? it doesn't matter if I have a good gig or a bad gig because I have a group of friends and I love them and I'll be like, oh, I'm doing live at the Apollo

or oh, I've just done the Lund, the Albert Hall. It's just like, I'll go, oh, I was on with Sala and they'll just go, yeah, anyway, Gary's got poils and I'm like, nobody cares. Nobody cares. Or I've just done this, isn't that amazing? And I go, well, that's well done. Who did I let my carpet cleaner to?

I love it. I love it because I think there's a lot of, if you don't have normal, not normal people, but people in your life that are interested in what you do, but also don't give a shit. Yes. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. You realise in the grand scheme of things because I think there are some comedians who are just only friends with comedians and I think, don't do that. Otherwise you will go so far up your ass, you become a circle. I would like to take some of the things that you're saying and turn them into something replicable. So if anyone is listening to this who's thinking, oh God, I want to be a bit more like Lindsay, she's really happy. Like, how can you help them? How can we help anyone listening to this who's like, I'm really angsty or I'm caught up?

You know, this whole podcast is just driven from my angst, basically. I feel like I've started now, probably two years ago. I would have said, oh my God, I think I've managed to separate myself worth from my work. The true version of that would be, dot, dot, dot, more than I ever have before. But I don't think it's complete. You know, I'm still, I'm really, I'm not just, I overthink everything. How do I stop overthinking everything? How do I achieve that kind of like?

I overthink everything. My brain is like a riddle of anxiety, but you've just got to have a chat with yourself and go, am I all right? Yeah. Like, do you know what's Another Magpie? I've got to salute it. I'm really superstitious. I think there's, you've got to remember

that I think social media's an arsehull for this. Just because someone else in your head is doing better than you doesn't mean that they're having a nicer time. I always think to myself, I've got a base, have a base, try and have a base. Even if it's just a dog at home. Do you know what I mean? Like a goldfish, just something that's like doesn't give a shit about comedy.

You need people who don't give a shit because they're the people who will just keep you in the level and make you realize that bad pie needs to get lost, man. Get out of me! I'm not having it curse me today. What's it going on about? Come back to me now. How'd you be more happy?

Get some antidepressants. maybe, it's that bad. Have a bath. I would like you to sell this as an online webinar. Lizzie Satoros course for success. Or at the very least, I mean, I was going to say that it would work quite well as a short Radio 4 series and Lindsay's going to happiness.

What do you think is your strongest suit as a comic? What do you think that you're particularly good at that resonates with audiences? Oh, that's a great question. I think, I'm going to say, I'm going to say, I think being a bit cheeky, but not too graphic. It's quite hard to do, I think. There's a fine line between.

But even then you're going to, yeah, I think, what resonates? I don't know. I don't know. Something's something comedy. Like I would say that you are just astonishingly likable. Like audiences Yes, you're for sure

You're just so giggly and happy and funny That you're like a little Mr Man Or do you know what I mean like a little You like a little miss He's quite harder to sort of say that way around Do you mean? But you've got this kind of little miss sunshine kind of quality I just think it's really

I saw that in that gig you did for me And the gig that saw you in Levington They just, they're in the palm of your hand They just love you I just dafty I think I just like trundling about. That's what I'd describe myself as. I just trundle about.

A bit of trundling. A bit of trundling. Lovely. And the other end of that question, of course, is what elements do you think? What do you consider your kind of superhero weaknesses as a comic? Like what are the bits where you see someone else do a thing and you think, I wish I had that bit of the toolkit?

I wish I could slow down because I often think my brain goes, I watch some comedians do sets and they go like three or four minutes without like not telling a joke but not having a big and I think God I wish I could do that without going it's too quiet

and I wish sometimes I could just let my brain slow down and enjoy because I think I don't really I enjoy being on stage but I don't think I really take in sometimes I kind of my head's going so fast Oh yeah

I feel that yeah That I'm not really like I'm there and I'm running around But I'm not going wow this is mad Yeah It'd be nice to write a joke That enabled you That enabled one to go

This is nice isn't it Just everyone just stay there for a minute I'm just going to remember to enjoy this Ah Next joke Yeah just sit in the silence Yeah. So how do you cope with a bad gig?

What do you say to yourself after a bad gig? I'm sure you never have bad gigs, Lindsay. I do. I'm terrible ones sometimes. I... What do I do? I just normally get a bit mad about it. And I'll have like a hobnob or a kick cat. This is webinar episode seven.

Someone told me like If you have a bad gig Use the money from the gig To buy yourself something nice Yeah that's nice And I was like Well at the start I had a load of them

So I wouldn't have any money So it was If I have a bad gig What do I I genuinely think I just go I just go I leave as soon as possible And go

I don't want I can't abide it When other comedians are like Oh Oh Oh Oh And I'm like, oh, fuck off.

Yeah. Oh, I thought you went really, I did it really well. We all know I didn't, so fuck off. Yeah. Yeah. Just leave the environment and have a kick-cat. I like to ask, what comic would it be most narratively satisfying if they killed you?

That's wonderful. Oh. I think if Joe Lyset killed me because I've been his tour support, so it kind of comes, yeah, I don't think he could do it. He's got weak wrists, I think. Maybe. Who else? Yeah, I think it'd just be him, wouldn't he?

Or another female comic, because I feel like everybody thinks that female comics hate each other. But it's just that we'd never gig together because we're not allowed on the same lineups. Yeah, man. mental, isn't it? Can't have two women on a bill. Then it might be a special woman gig. Okay, last one then. Ordinarily, I finish by asking if people are happy.

But I feel like you're happy. Oh, you can ask that as well. I'll just go, I'm not. Well, yeah, well, that's, and then we go, oh, no, we should have been on this. What was going to ask was, can you review yourself honestly for me? If you were a reviewer writing a reviewer writing a

about Lindsay Sanzoro. What would you say? This is going to be hard because I really hate watching clips of myself back, but when I force myself to do it, I always laugh at myself, which is terrible, isn't it? That's brilliant. Like when I was editing my Apollo, I remember messaging you going, they keep blocking the video. I was editing my Apollo and I just, rather than editing it, I just started watching the set. And I was like, because I'm really funny, aren't I?

Oh, I love it. I love it. And that would be obnoxious coming from almost anyone else. There's some of it, I was like, God, I wish I'd not said that phrase, and I could have done that. And why did I kick my leg like that? But I would review myself as very cheeky. I enjoyed it.

And finally then, Lindsay Santoro, are you happy? I am elated. Life is fine. I just wish it wasn't cold. Because my husband don't put the eating on. I'm driving me mad that is. That's my only gripe with life. I want the heat enough. The rest of it's fine. I need to get my oil done on my car as well. I can't be asked. Are you happy?

Yeah, I am now. I'm having a great mood. I've had quite a wonky morning with one thing and another with the kids and I went for a run. It's very cold and I had a bit minor disagreement with my wife. I was a bit grumpy. But I'm in a brilliant mood now, thanks. Oh, lovely. That's more a reflection of my mood. In a day-to-day way, yes, I'm broadly speaking, happier, I think, than I've ever been. God, God. I think, and it's those things you say. It's stuff outside comedy.

It's community and family and just having a bit. Like one thing I love to do is I love to, sometimes my dad will come over. He doesn't live in this country, but sometimes he'll come over for a few days and he'll do a bit of DIY and we'll just hang out. And I just love that time so much because I just feel like, oh, this is my real self. Just hanging out with my dad. It's lovely. I love it. I love it. It's so good.

So good. I love going to, my brother lives in the Forest of Dean. Not in it like in the trees. He just lives. It does sound like that. I know it's very hard when you know someone in the Forest of Dean. I love seeing my brother because he's married. He's got two kids. So he's my manager's my daughter. And it's lovely. And whenever I'm going to see him, I just think, oh, this is like my joyful homey place. It's like just hanging out with my family and my sister as well and my mom and my nan. Yeah.

You're nan. I love her. I'd tried. Imagine if you've made your point now. You've made your point. So that was Lindsay. Thank you so much. Lindsay for coming on the show.

That was a joy. Thank you to Susie Lewis for the logging. Rob Smelmorton for the music. And your co-producer is Callan Morin. See Lindsay Santoro live with an upcoming work in progress at the Pleasance London. as have I one of these, but you can find out more about her one at Lindsay Santoro.com. And follow her on Instagram at Lindsay underscore Santoro.

Extras with Lindsay include some stuff on her BBC Radio 4 series. The what's it called? The lovely life, the lively life of Lindsay Santoro. Currently available on BBC Sounds, but if you would like to hear more about how that came about and the making of it, we'll hear about letting audiences fill in the more graphic parts of her act, balancing ambition and sanity and how her agent kept her grounded throughout the Edinburgh Fringe you can get all of that, all of the extras

if you're in the Insiders Club, go to patreon.com.com and you get the full video episode and all the trimmings as well. Find out where you can see me, Stuart Goldsmith.com slash comedy. And thank you once again to our insider producers Luke Hacorro, Roger Spilloro, I Cave Doro, Daniel Poro, Keith Sorro, Samo Loro,

I'm regretting this, Jay Luke Oros. Gary McLellero, Chris Swaroro, Dave Mcquerero, Paul Swantoro, Alex Wormall, I'm just going to leave that big Wormall, I like your name, and James Barroro. And of course, to the two special insider executive producers, Neil Lindsay Duncan Peters and Andrew Lindsay, Robert Lindsay, Dennant, and to the super secret one as well, I think you're all. And that's all from me. If there's, I'll do you a 90 second post-amble because I must pack. But other than that, Cheerio, speak to you next time. Consistence of self-retention. Advance.

Okay, so this is, I mean, maybe more than 90 seconds, we'll see. But I'm off. Tomorrow, I'm off. I'm taping this just before I go to. This is my crazy itinery. This is my climate comedy whirlwind tour of Jet Fuel. So I'm going to the Urban Institute at the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor, and I'm going to the University of Colorado in Boulder, and I'm going to drop in on dear friend and circuit legend Amy Havirska in San Francisco,

and then I'm going to Phoenix, Arizona's a greenbiz, which will be my third visit to this wonderful sustainability conference. I've got my head straight on the fact that I'm burning fossil fuels in order to attend work events, but it does occur to me that it would be great if there was like a four-word sentence that I could just say when that came up. Because you might not be thinking about, you might be rolling your eyes, you might be thinking, probably you're not that fussed. Maybe you're a deep green or even if you're just a sort of a light green and you're thinking to yourself, don't burn all the fossil fuels. I want you to know that I'm making very specific and intentional decisions. This isn't something, yeah, you might be thinking, oh, that makes it all right then, does it? But I am being intentional about this. Everybody flies. Not everybody flies. Not

everyone has the luxury of the privilege of flying. Let's face it, we're in the top 10% of wealth in the world. But I'm not flying for pointless reasons. I'm flying less socially and domestically, and I'm flying for professional reasons, and I'm thinking about it every time. And I've got three cracking jokes about it in my set. So my conscience is clear, but there's a thing, isn't it? Does it mean that my conscience is clear because I'm flying to do, I think, really positive climate work? Is it worth it? Can anyone ever work out whether or not it's worth it?

And let's face it, you didn't bring this up. It's tickling at the back of my brain. I just, like, I've got material about hypocrisy. But I don't want to sit here and go, well, that's fine then. I'm okay to be a hypocrite. But we're all in the carbon economy and the main thing that we can do as well as trying to be as intentional as possible. And let's not forget that I did turn down some two flights to Tallinn Estonia

and two flights back to do some perfectly lovely gigs at a brilliant festival for great people run by an excellent chap. I mean, and one or two others as well. But that's the main one. I mentioned the other week. I went to the Alps. I went to the French Alps with Jessica Foster Q and Rob Rouse. God, they're funny.

And Neil Delamere, but I barely saw Neil in his lovely wife. I mostly spent time with Jess and Rob and Rob's awesome daughter who learned to ski in about five minutes. And it was, I got the train there and it took 14 hours and it made me absolutely delirious with tiredness. No, it made me slightly delirious with tiredness. But I did appreciate getting the train there. I really, the one difference, and this is riddled with privilege, and the difference I noticed is that in a train station in the middle of the night, when you're waiting for a connection,

you can't get your laptop out and do some work in the same way as you can in an airport, because a train station is much more public space, and I didn't feel safe or confident to do so. But other than that, everything else about it was great. It did take a little bit longer, but basically a travelling day is a travelling day, and I kind of built it in. I got loads of work done on trains, if not in stations. I went on two double-decker trains. Come on, that's pretty sweet. And you just get to actually feel like you're in the place you're going.

I was in Paris. I was in the Gardner. I got the metro to the guarder, one of the other ones. And it was just a really nice positive experience. I've got a bunch of stuff. I mean, I wouldn't ever fly to Paris if I could possibly avoid it. I've got a bunch of other conferences and events and shows coming up in Paris in the next. next few months, and I would definitely be getting the train there anyway, but it really, it really was better. And if I could get the train to Michigan, Colorado, California and Arizona, I would. But I can't. So I'm going to go there and do those things and I'm going to try, and given that I am doing them, there's no point in sort of, you know, sulking and feeling

callow and ashamed about it. I'm going to do them. I think I'm doing it for the right reasons. So y'aboo to you, but I look forward to this being used as evidence in climate court in 2036. I mean, look, I'd be banked rights and I don't even think I'd resent it. But let's all accentuate the positive. I'm super excited about the work. It's good, important work that I want to do and I've been nervous about it until I hit a deadline recently. I do this workshop on climate communication. and I've written it and rewritten it and rewritten it

and now I've finally, with the deadline, I wrote the final draft of this, which is version three, and now I just need to learn it. I did a really great thing, which I, you know, every so often you can throw out a Zoom gig and go, hey, this is a Zoom gig. I can just, you know, get a tiny crowd together online and do a Zoom gig and make use of some ears

and audience members without needing to leave the house. Super. But similarly, I did something with my friend Mark, comic Mark Serra, whereby I've done this once or twice before, I kind of basically called him on Zoom, delivered him the entire talk for an hour, poor bastard, and was able to sort of pause a recording of me doing the talking in order to go, oh, you flinch then, was that not clear? Am I losing you? I feel like this bits too dense, stuff like that. Record all of it, and then, of course, I've got like a sort of 55-minute audio thing, which I can now listen to

on trains and learn it. So is that advice? I don't think that's advice, is it? it's advice it's a top tip but ultimately I've got nothing else to say I'm so tired and I've craftily what I've done is because if I do the meds for two or more days on the row I get very tired afterwards

I've timed that so that tomorrow when I'm travelling that's the crash from the meds so I'm going hard getting all the work done now so that I can just absolutely veg out whilst travelling tomorrow and just lie there listening to myself deliver a presentation four or five times. Don't say that. If I say that, I'll have to do it. Let's say

three. Twice. Three times on one and a half speed. Deal. Speak you soon.