Well, it's clearly all happening over at BBC Radio Wales. After last week's chat with Kiri Pritchard-McLean about her new show, it's a hearty 'hola!' to Ignacio Lopez, who's just made a pilot with pal and fellow comic Leroy Brito.
The thoroughly enjoyable Twinned Town went out on Monday and is now on BBC Sounds, and is certainly timely. Indeed, what started as a post-Brexit script has evolved into a Covid-set tale in which Ignacio's Spaniard gets stuck with Brito's Brit due to lockdown. Their scripted dynamic is a lot spikier than the real thing - although they have their moments.
"We've been friends for a long time, so writing together is easy, we'd meet between gigs to run through material," Lopez explains.
"When we're ordering food or coffee or whatever we'll often translate as if we just arrived in the country to wind each other up: 'Oh, you probably don't have this in Spain, this is a cup of tea... tea.' 'Hey, this is going to taste a bit unusual because you're Welsh and this doesn't have alcohol in it, this is agua... water.' If we're gigging together there's some mild roasting, on stage. That's where a lot of the humour comes from."
The recording sessions were professional but safety-first; Lopez and Brito laying down their parts on opposite sides of the studio, and even doing the press photos separately, which were then stuck together by digital sorcery. The finished pilot is also admirably seamless, which is one great joy of radio: you'd never know.
"Hopefully we get a series out of it and we can expand on the characters," says Lopez. "And spend some more time goofing off in the studio and winding each other up over coffee."
That's what it's all about. Now let's rewind back to 2009.
I used to sing and play guitar at the end of a weekly comedy night in The Garage in Swansea. I'd go on after all the acts, a mix of newer local acts and professional comedians, and make background noise while people finished their drinks.
My friend Big Al, who was a projectionist at the cinema I worked in part time, kept pushing me to try stand-up. I had asked the promoter, he flat out said no. One night towards the end of 2009, Big Al brought all the projectionists to the club for their Christmas party. At the door, without my knowing, he told the promoter the only way they were going to pay to come in was if I was doing stand-up.
After the headliner, as half the audience filtered out of the club and the rest got more drinks from the bar and settled in for some music, the promoter told me I had to tell some jokes. I hadn't written anything.
I walked onto the stage, put my guitar down, saw a dozen cinema employees in Christmas hats, and a load of confused audience faces as I proceeded to tell some stories about what it was like working in the cinema. I did about 10 minutes and I remember being very surprised that strangers were laughing.
I was mostly impressed that I didn't get fired.
Favourite show, ever?
Last year I did a show to celebrate 10 years of doing stand-up, in The Perch, the same venue where I run a monthly night in Swansea. It was completely packed with the nicest of people, a real mixed audience, everyone got involved, it was beautiful carnage.
I accidentally turned David Hasselhoff away, who just happened to be looking for a place to drink with his wife in Swansea. I didn't realise until afterwards, and I would have been gutted but it was such a perfect night. Even the inclusion of the Hoff couldn't have made it better.
Christmas gigs are bad, Jongleurs Christmas gigs were worse, but I usually fared pretty well, especially in Cardiff. One December night, I was booked to open. There were 150 people in, mainly call centre staff, they'd all booked food and drinks packages as part of their Christmas parties. The chefs hadn't turned up to work so there was no food.
The audience had been there since 6pm, it was now 8pm, they hadn't eaten, and to make up for the catering blunder everyone had been given a load of drinks vouchers, it was essentially an open bar. People were wasted, throwing up all over the place, shouting, fighting. Someone took a dump in the urinals.
The club was having some work done in the room next door and somehow they had cut the power to the stage lights, the stage was pitch black. The options were: lights on the audience with the stage in darkness, or the entire room in darkness. The host bit the bullet and walked up with house lights on. It was impossible.
I told them to cut the lights on the audience as I walked up so the whole place was in darkness and I did my set, lighting myself with the torch on my phone. The set itself was a blur but I remember thinking it felt like someone had turned the stadium lights out during a football match.
I just stood there like I was reading a ghost story and dealt with the heckles exploding at me from the void. On the way out, a woman grabbed my crotch and someone threw a bottle at me. Went back the next week and it was marginally better.
Which one person influenced your comedy life most significantly?
My partner, Michelle. I've had loads of people support me and help me out but I've known Michelle since before I started stand-up (we met in the cinema) and she's been there through the very worst parts. My comedy life pretty much is my life. I really can't understand how anyone can tolerate being with a comedian.
I'll run my material by her. I'll get up at 2am to write down an idea. Before lockdown I was never home more than two nights in a row. When I haven't taken over our flat to shoot sketches, it looks like I'm trying to figure out who the zodiac killer is with all the notes lying around. It borders on obsession.
When I've been told by multiple people in my life to give up, she's encouraged me to keep going. Maybe this is all a horrible mistake and she's enabling me.
And who's the most disagreeable person you've come across in the business?
Comedy is such a vast landscape, I've been able to avoid the people that bring me the most unhappiness out on the circuit. Sometimes that's involved not taking work or avoiding specific gigs or promoters. There are plenty of bullies out there, a lot of huge egos. I can't really understand how destructive and vindictive some people are. There are people whose careers I would love to see go up in flames, but I'm not going shopping for matches.
Is there one routine/gag you loved, that audiences inexplicably didn't?
In a bit, I used to act out dragging a steel fence across a concrete floor, screeching the whole time, then revealing that the screeching was the noise of a pterodactyl, not the fence. I loved doing it and the absurdity made me laugh but it was too much of a departure from the rest of the bit for the audience to really get behind it. Maybe one out of a hundred people would tell me it was their favourite part of the show but everyone else would look confused.
How's your lockdown been - creatively and generally?
It's been tough! I've just tried to offer as much of a distraction as possible for people online, I've been putting out sketches, a weekly quiz, comedy songs, and stand-up clips. It feels like we're all inside trying to cheer each other up as the world is ending outside.
Are there particular reviews, heckles or post-gig reactions that stick in the mind?
I had a review in an arts publication and the only positive thing they said was that I had a good singing voice. I'd done 30 minutes of stand-up and one comedy song. I like to think my worst reviews are behind me.
How do you feel about where your career is at, right now?
Lockdown aside, I feel positive. I like the variety of venues and promoters I'm working for, I've built up enough of an audience that I can try out new things, and there are people that will come watch my shows all over. I'm putting out work that I like and people are enjoying it. That's all I ever wanted.