I'm not sure you understand

I'm not sure you understand about last night. Eddie Izzard has a way about him. Well yes of course being a transvestite is a way but it wasn't that, in fact, it was never that. The thing is, I wanted Eddie to like me. I wanted to be his friend. I wanted him to pick me from all the others because I was his favourite. Now, how the hell did he *do* that from all the way down there on the stage? I wanted to meet him afterwards for a drink and say "great show, Ed, that one about the greyhounds slighed me, man." I wanted him to know I thought he looked beautiful and that he had great legs. I wanted to write my name with his surname on my pencil case and dot the i's with hearts - that's a special superpower if ever I saw one. Eddie Izzard takes you gently in his cupped hands, and tickles you under your chin and kanoodles you along with good humour and good observation and with unabiding confidence and you feel safe and you feel great affection and you want him to LIKE you.

That, Eddie, is the best superhero power *ever*. Thanks for a great night - especially the parts where I was doubled-over and screaming with laughter, slapping my knee and scaring the living daylights out of that poor sod in front of me.