Glasgow, I need your help.

People of Glasgow, I am fucked.

Now, don’t go blaming yourself. It is 100% my fault, but that doesn’t change how fucked I am. I’m in you (Glasgow, not you yourself*) to do my show of stand up comedy called ComedySale.Com. It’s a show where I sell all the tickets by hand. And I’m fucked.

I’m fucked, because my voice has gone. A mono-lunged emphysematic atop of Everest has more vocal power than I. In space no one can hear you scream. Well, in Glasgow no one can hear me talk. That is a problem.

The only way people come to my show is if I approach them in pubs, do some charm, drop dope patter and flog them a ticket there and then. That is why my voice if fucked. Selling to people in pubs – particularly if your pitch is longer than “DVD? DVD?” – means shouting for extended periods.

I have a show on Tuesday and, while I’ll be able to use my voice for one hour of performance, there’s no way that between now and then I can hustle my wares (I use the word ‘hustle’ to add a bit of gangster glamour to what is essentially a tragic existence). As it stands there’ll be 10 people in Blackfriars on March 26th, and Small Show in Big Room is far less entertaining than Big Trouble in Little China.

Luckily, there is you, the internet. When Amnesty International says the web can give a voice to the voiceless, they probably weren’t thinking of me, but it applies. I can still type, I can still tweet and I can still deliver tickets to Glaswegians (though with very little talking).

And, you, reading this now. Now. And now. Might be a Glaswegian who’s found this by RT, share or ‘Like’. Who clicked this link in the URL swamp and are now asking: is the show any good? Well, that’s not for me to say – fuck that! It is for me to say: THE SHOW IS AWESOME. I love it. I love doing it.

The reason I sell the tickets by hand is the atmosphere. There’s something indefinably amazing that human connection brings. Actually, it’s not indefinable. The amazingness is human connection. The simple fact of knowing someone’s name and shaking their hand, changes the dynamic of the show (that it’s fucking funny turns it into some really next level shit).

Oh, what’s this? Looks like some reviews from the Fringe.

Folks, it is literally one of The Sunday Times’ Picks of the Week. A friend of mine took a picture of it and sent it to me.


Normally a plug like this in a massive national newspaper would invariably lead to a concomittant spike in sales. It works like this:

Sunday Times is read over Sunday pints in remodelled gastro pub. Comedy loving reader sees show in their town. Reader finds ticketing site. Reader buys ticket. Simple.

Here’s how it works for my show:

Sunday Times is read over Sunday pints in remodelled gastropub. Comedy loving reader sees show in their town. Reader sees all tickets are sold by hand. Reader is puzzled. Reader goes online to try to by tickets. Reader becomes even more confused. Reader is angry. Reader hate angry. Reader hate Jones. Reader SMASH!

I’m asking for your help. If you can’t come to the show, please tell someone else in Glasgow who can. If you do want to come to the show (I LOVE YOU!!!!!), drop me a line on Twitter, or an email, and I will deliver a ticket to your hand. And I will whisper “Thanks so much”.

That’s all folks. Thanks so much for reading this. I will let you know what happens in the end.

All the best and look forward to meeting you,

Sanderson x

* Unless I am in you yourself, in which case: “Sorry for doing such a bad job. Carry on reading this post until I find a way of grabbing your full attention. There. Do you like that? No. OK. That? Nope. Ah….**”.

**Probably time to end the footnote before it gets any creepier.