Well, it’s been another two weeks, and wow — it’s been busy.

But this week feels very important to me, because I’ve now been doing comedy, or at least trying to be a comedian, for seven years.

And honestly?

It’s been one of the most amazing jobs I’ve ever had.

In fact, comedy and the farm are now the two longest jobs I’ve ever kept, which says a lot when you think about where my life started.

So what have I learned over the past seven years?

Comedy is hard.

Really hard.

But like I got told when I first started, you’ve got to find your own niche.

And I finally feel like I’ve found mine.

Blue Badge Bunch, children’s shows, disability awareness, Slugageddon — that’s where I feel at home.

And to be honest, it brings in more money than some adult gigs, which is absolutely fine by me.

At least I can be home before midnight.

When I first started comedy, one of my friends asked me:

“What do you want to get out of it?”

And my answer was simple:

I want to employ myself.
I want to make friends.
And eventually, I want to find someone to spend my life with.

And honestly?

Most of that has come true.

I’ve met some amazing people up and down the country, and many of my closest friends are comedians, creatives, and supporters who have helped shape my journey.

People like Ian Pesket, Tommy, George Copping, James, Craig Shaw, Mark Mckhean, Susanna Clark, Joe Dickinson, Ishy Khan, Katie Slater, Lucy Apple, Alex Waite, Jay Sauders, and so many others.

If I’ve forgotten you, I’m sorry — there have just been so many brilliant people who’ve helped me on this journey.

And that’s one of the biggest things comedy has given me:

Community.

Friendship.

Confidence.

Purpose.

I also met my ex through the comedy scene.

And while we’re no longer together, I’ll always be grateful for what that relationship gave me.

Jess taught me how to love myself more.
She taught me how to respect myself more.

And even now, when I’m having bad days, I still hear her voice in my head reminding me of my worth.

So thank you, Jess, for the wonderful three and a half years we shared.

I’m just sorry it ended the way it did.

That’s another thing comedy gave me — relationships, life lessons, and memories I’ll carry forever.

I never originally wanted to be some kind of mentor for the disabled community either.

Before comedy, I was an angry bloke.

Not angry at people — just angry at the world.

But comedy and the farm taught me something massive:

You don’t have to live angry to get what you deserve.

You don’t have to be angry at the world to help other people.

Over the past seven years, I’ve helped disabled people who’ve become disabled overnight, supported others in navigating the disability world, and tried to make things a little less frightening for those still finding their feet.

And honestly?

Helping others has made me grateful too.

I never planned to become someone who promotes disability awareness.

But it feels like this is my path.

This feels like what I’ve been put on this earth to do.

Over the next few months, I’ve got meetings with MPs in Ashfield and Nottingham to discuss Blue Badge Bunch and our disability awareness game show, to see if we can get into more companies, more schools, and more spaces where awareness is desperately needed.

Because that’s what it’s all about:

Finding your niche.

Finding where you fit.

And then giving it everything you’ve got.

If you’re new to comedy, or just starting out, my advice is simple:

Enjoy the ride.

Study everyone.

Watch as much comedy as you can.

That’s exactly what I did.

Now, I don’t watch as much comedy for fun because it’s become part of my job — but I still study it constantly.

Whether it’s YouTube, live gigs, or paying to watch other comics.

Because in this industry, you’re always learning.

I still get new comedians saying things like, “You’re my idol,” or “I really look up to you.”

And honestly?

It still makes me cringe a little.

Not because I don’t appreciate it, but because part of me still struggles to fully believe in myself, even when so many others clearly do.

That’s probably years of society making disabled people feel smaller than they are.

But comedy has slowly changed that.

It’s helped me build confidence.
It’s helped me build friendships.
It’s helped me build relationships.

And it’s helped me create a life that actually feels like mine.

Would I have met some of the incredible people in my life without comedy?

Probably not.

And that’s why, despite the struggles, I’m so glad I kept going.

Now, the next few months are about growth.

I’m focusing on writing new material, developing new jokes, and making Slugageddon even bigger.

Thanks to new funding, Blue Badge Bunch and Slugageddon are touring more places like Nottingham, Hull, and Mansfield.

So keep your eyes open, because there’s a lot more coming.

And then there’s social media.

I’m slowly building my Facebook, Instagram, and TikTok, which is exciting.

This week one of my videos hit 4.1k views.

Okay, I’m still learning how to turn views into likes and followers, but posting every day is building traction.

And that matters.

Because whether it’s comedy, gardening, disability awareness, or woodworking — every video, every post, and every blog is helping me build something bigger.

My own audience.

My own career.

My own future.

And because being an independent artist isn’t easy, I’ve also decided to drop a 10-minute video of my comedy set on Buy Me a Coffee.

So if you’d like to support me on this journey, you can head over there, grab the video, and help support the work I’m building.

Because let’s be honest — artists don’t always get paid like normal jobs.

And that’s okay.

I genuinely love what I do.

But every bit of support helps me keep creating, performing, and pushing forward.

And finally, one thing I promised myself at the beginning of this year was that I was going to get out more and socialise again.

And I’m finally doing it.

Okay, it’s not every week, but I’m slowly getting back to my old self.

Last month I went to Susanna’s birthday party. We went clubbing, stayed out until 3am, and honestly — it was amazing.

I met some fantastic people, laughed loads, and remembered that life isn’t just about work.

I’ve already been invited to another birthday party, and I’m making myself go.

I’ve even started planning steam fairs again — something I haven’t done properly in four years because life got in the way.

Sometimes relationships change. Sometimes old friends drift. Sometimes new friends don’t always understand the things you love.

So now, I’m making sure I do the things that make me happy.

Me and my good friend Alex Waite are already planning to do a few steam fairs as cheaply as we can.

Because that’s what life is about too:

Looking after yourself.

Making memories.

And remembering to enjoy the ride.

After seven years, I can finally say:

I might still be learning.
I might still be growing.
But I’m proud of how far I’ve come.

Photo of me in my shed, the day before I stepped on stage for the very first time — seven years ago — not knowing that comedy would completely change my life. taken by Chris / Photonut76