This is something I’ve written to be read out at my funeral. As I’m still alive I’ll just use it now.
We are all here today to remember Andrew Bird. I would love to say all the things you are supposed to say in these circumstances like “he was always full of life and put others first” but that wouldn’t be true. He was alright wasn’t he?
He was from Northampton, so yeah I know probably not even worth bringing up. As an under aged drinker in the local pub he tried to make the older men laugh. After dropping out of art collage and working in a factory for a few years that seemed really the only option. So he moved to London and got a job in a pub while starting out in stand up. After years of slogging around the circuit he established himself and did many Edinburgh shows, and wrote on various TV shows.
He got married, bought a car, a house and had two children during the worst recession since the 20s. This pressure fuelled his slightly moaning stressed sense of humour but ultimately contributed to his untimely death.
“Comedy gold…going to be a star”
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“A great storyteller. Funny, likeable and effortless”
“Funny as hell”