My insufferably smug career plans after Edinburgh. By a posh girl

EDINBURGH is being invaded by middle-class students hoping their dire fringe shows will lead to comedy or acting success. Here Charlotte Phelps outlines her slightly nauseating plans.

What I love about the Fringe is the energy, the creativity, the anarchy, and of course offering a career path with the earning potential of a senior management role at a top blue chip like KPMG.

I’m here with my one-woman comedy show Menstruation Nation. It’s about the conflicting pressures on a modern woman trying to live up to her feminist principles in a society that only values attractive, confident, well-spoken people who went to St Paul’s Girls’ School like me.

The show’s brilliant conceit is that my character’s period is her competitive best friend. It’s hard to represent a period on stage, so I just use a red spotlight whenever I’m in the role of Elizabeth’s menstrual blood. My friend Persephone said it was ‘very relatable’.

I’ve had a love of performing since an early age. ‘Christ, will you stop bloody showing off, Charlotte?’ my father used to joke. I wouldn’t, and here I am now with a successful Edinburgh show with audiences of up to four people a night – some of them partially sober!

I intend to follow an established career path of winning the Perrier, getting a TV show no one likes except The Guardian because it’s about a woman, then branching out into drama. Comedy is in my blood, but obviously I’d sack that off PDQ because film’s where the real money is.

The only bump in the road I’ve encountered so far on my journey to a massive house in Primrose Hill is the reaction to the show itself, which hasn’t been as universally positive as I’d have hoped.

‘Suffers a fundamental problem for a comedy of not being in any way amusing,’ said The Scotsman. ‘I’ve had funnier colonoscopies than this bucket of putrid shit,’ said Time Out in an uncharacteristically harsh review, no doubt written by a member of the patriarchy.

I’m not letting it deter me though. With some ruthless networking and self-promotion I’ll still be on TV in a few years with a toe-curlingly unfunny show that’s actually physically uncomfortable to watch. I’m just one of those people you can’t keep down, unfortunately.

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How to be in complete denial it's a shit summer: Tips from a Brexiter

SICK of day after day of shit summer weather? Try to cope by refusing to admit it’s happening. Ardent Brexiter Roy Hobbs shares the tips he’s learnt.

Delude yourself

All these woke types keep telling me this summer’s been rubbish, but anyone smart like me can see it’s just a lie made up to support their bollocks global warming propaganda. It’s been the same as every summer I remember when I was a kid: wall-to-wall sunshine, and no, that’s not me remembering it wrong. I got sunburnt in July. OK, so I was on holiday in Tenerife, but that’s not the point.

Ignore the experts

The media claim we had one of the wettest Julys on record, but that’s just statistics, and you can make statistics say whatever you want. Remember when Michael Gove said we’d had enough of experts? Well, he was right. I’ve had it up to here with meteorologists trashing our great country’s rainfall levels. They’re definitely all lefty Remoaner bastards.

Look to your heroes for guidance

You know who doesn’t believe in climate change? Nigel Farage. Like me, he reckons the wet weather this summer is just a good old British blip, rather than anything to do with a disruption of weather patterns due to global warming. Anyway, the sun came out for three minutes last Monday, so Nige must be right that everything is fine.

Use your favourite meaningless soundbites

The wokerati metropolitan elite in their Islington ivory towers are the ones who want you to believe we’re having a shit season, when we’re not. And even if we were, our British bulldog Blitz spirit would see us through. Summer means summer, after all. We just need to take back control. It’s the will of the people.

Make it about immigrants

See those pictures on the news of illegal immigrants getting on board their taxpayer-funded Bibby Stockholm barge? Spot any umbrellas? Exactly. Why would all these foreigners keep coming here from hot countries in little boats if the weather was shit? They’re expecting balmy temperatures so they can enjoy cocktails on the deck of their luxury floating hotel, all paid for by hard-working British people like me. Well, I retired ten years ago on a hefty final salary pension, but you get my point.