Pope: I’m a care-worker (first) and a comedian / writer (second). I’m also working in partnership with Ben Target, NextUp and Fight in the Dogto put on a series of physical / visual comedy gigs for people with dementia. Plus I’ve organised an Alzheimer’s Benefit with Angel Comedy (+ NextUp) in October. We’re turning this entire project into a documentary as well(Fight in the Dog are only helping with workshop gigs. They’re not involved in the documentary.) It’s a bit of a passion project of mine.

A quick side note: Michael and I have known each other since we were tiny boys. He used to be best friends with my older Brother but, as we grew older, he was forced to downgrade to me. *Cue: The Wonder Years theme* And that’s when he finally realised that things weren’t going great for him.

How did you get into stand up?

Michael: I wanted to do stand up since I was 15 and then waited for 13 years until I didn’t have any excuses/dignity left.

Pope: After years of deliberation, Michael finally signed us up to do a set at the Cavendish Arms. It went alright and, having broken that threshold, I continued to put my delicate self-esteem in the hands of strangers; strangers who don’t care if I unravel and throw all my furniture in the Thames (like Tony Slattery) or eat Monster Munch and painkillers in public toilets (like me).

Tell us all about the show that you are bringing to the Camden Fringe Festival?

Michael: 45 minutes of pure desperation.

Pope: My 20 minutes will be about my Oblomovian existence and using drugs to inhabit a continuous pause.  Also, there’ll be stuff about poo but I’ll assuage the audience’s distaste by chucking in some highbrow Joyce quotes.

(That’s how you elevate puerile humour. Infecting the high with the low; the sacred with the profane. Just bung in a bit of Joyce, mate.) Oh, and pure desperation. It will have quite a bit of that in there.

What are your favourite things about performing to an audience and why?

Michael: Painfully obvious but just having strangers laugh at something that started in your head and then came out of your mouth.

Pope: Homo Ludens! Knowing you’re participating in adult play. It’s something that tends to fall away as we grow older but it provides an important function; as important as family or security. Go on. Cup a fart in your palm and force your mate to drink it in.

What other comedians groups do you find inspiring and why?

Michael: Now I know how much effort it takes, essentially I just admire anyone that can make a career out of performing.

Pope: There’s loads. Other than the usual suspect (Stewart Lee; Daniel Kitson) there’s two that spring to mind: Alfie Brown, who will push to transgress personal boundaries. Having elicited outrage from certain audience members – and exposing the fault lines in their response – he’ll make them reevaluate why that boundary’s there in the first place. He’ll help you to loosen the bolts of firmly held pieties. Also, very funny. And Lauren Pattison. She’s hilariously candid and such a likeable human being. And it’s a testament to her that, despite being 4 years younger than me, I don’t resent the success she’s having. I’m actually excited about watching her career progression. (Also, she’s another one who doesn’t shy away from base humour to balance the poignancy of her anecdotes. I’m a big fan of that.)

Explain the writing process you go through to produce your jokes?

Michael: I mostly think about jokes at work when I should be doing work.

Pope: “That’s good! Pop that in the ol’ diary.” (Sidenote: I’ll usually jot it down in my small, obsessive handwriting. Sometimes when I’m in a pub I surreptitiously nudge my notebook in the direction of a girl I fancy because I think she’ll be turned on by pathological neatness. I have a strange understanding of what’s considered desirable. When I was 13 and in a situation where a girl overheard me going for a slash, I’d force out the piss because, to me, a robust piss stream indicated virility. I thought girls liked robust pissing.)

I’d fluctuate between hating it and loving it. Then I’d edit it. Then perform it. Then edit again (depending on an audience’s reaction). Do this until I’m sick of that bit of material and then dispose of it, never to be seen again.

For people who want to go into Stand Up Comedy as a career – what advice would you give them?

Pope: Give yourself a chance to be shit. If you’re still shit after 6 months, and you’re having more bad gigs than good, it might be time to reevaluate this. Also, it’s not a career. For nearly all of us, it isn’t going to be a full-time career – so hold on to part-time work until you no longer have to.

If people want to find out more about you where can they follow you on social media?

Pope: Twitter: @thedailybumbler

And Finally – in three words, why should people come and see you at the Camden Fringe Festival?