Probably the least eventful or interesting day, but bare with me, sure I can drivel on about it for a fair old while.
After the offensively late night Saturday, my body decided it would be a good idea to refuse further sleep at 8:30, meaning at most 3 hours recharge had been accrued. Nevertheless I was actually feeling pretty darn good. Oh yeah, get me. Perhaps it was some kind of subconscious determination to show I could still hack it on my very last day as a 27 year old.
Once everybody had arisen the decision was made to go to our first (proper-ish, in that we had to pay) show. Even though at this point we had next to no idea where the hell we were supposed to be going, and how long this would take, we set the tone for the rest of the week; leaving slightly later than would have allowed us to get to our destination comfortably on time. After a long, fast and not necessarily direct march to the theatre, intermittently checking iPhone maps, we arrived, around 10 minutes late. Oops.
The show was mostly good. Although the compere’s M.O. appeared to be to ask people their occupation before spouting mostly unfunny blather about that line of work. The first of the 3 acts was a dweeb (yes I did use that word) whose routine was mainly highlighting his life of dweeb-ness, but he was quite funny to be fair to the lad. The second was a tall thin Jewish (she kept pointing this out) comedian who went for the sick and wrong angle. We liked her. The last guy was brilliant, and despite having a minor breakdown half way through after he had begun to try and chat a girl in the front row up, he made me laugh plenty. I have since discovered his name is Jonathan Elston but the stuff of him on youtube doesn’t really do him justice.
After the show, and after getting a hot dog from a couple of posh students who must have been the least efficient street vendors to have ever graced this Earth, we attended another compilation show, this time free. At this point I would have seriously considered giving my left (or right) testicle to have the ‘ask about jobs’ guy back; the M.C. was unbearable. Now I appreciate she had to look somewhere, but surely she could have picked a space towards the back, or switched her gaze from person to person around the room? Apparently not, and the lack of choice of seats on our arrival (almost late again) meant that I was in the hot spot to allow every single moment she was there for her to be staring right at me. This coupled with the fact that she wasn’t funny, was annoying and had a voice that could be compared to a dying peacock on helium made things somewhat uncomfortable. I tried to feign a chuckle every now and then and attempted to maintain a bit of a smile as much as possible but she must have known I thought she was shit. This photo might give you an idea of my ordeal (note; the guy on the left is NOT, repeat NOT me):
(although I could probably do a pretty good impression of him:)
This show was pretty average apart from one young Scottish guy who was apparently performing comedy for the very first time and was really funny. Give him the M.C. job next time.
After a bit of a wander, a pint at a pub next to a shop that constantly pissed annoying bubbles in your face and then some pizza at the aparttment we got actual tickets to what would be our first proper show – ‘Talking cock’ by Richard Herring. I had liked this guy’s stuff for a while and since it was my suggestion I was somewhat anxious about the show being good, or else I would have unnecessarily cost a load of mates £14 each. Thankfully he didn’t succumb to this immense pressure and delivered, or at least nobody called me a twat for the recommendation (although they probably called me a twat for other things). The show was funny and interesting and you could definitely tell the difference between this in terms of style, delivery, content, etc. and the cheaper/more amateur stuff we had seen. He made a couple of references to a guy who had written to him about having spooned jelly into a toilet roll tube to perform sex acts upon it. After having found copious amounts of jelly in my cupboard months earlier the bucket was certain that this was either me or that this is what I do. Wrong bucket…………..I have to use a kitchen roll tube (wink). Or is it a thimble? I forget. And for the record I like EATING jelly and it was on offer.
………………………………… apart from the fact that one (left) had a massive build up of saliva in her mouth the whole time she was performing. That might seem like an odd thing to say but after the show everybody who went commented on it, so ner ner ner ner ner. Maybe that's what the beer can and wine bottle are strategically positioned for. I think what she was saying might have been funny but all I could think about was 1- does she know her mouth is full of saliva? 2- why doesn’t she have a drink? 3- kissing with that girl must be like kissing a rabid llama? 4- why is the amount of saliva increasing and getting thicker and dryer? 5- what if some drops out on me? 6- why doesn’t she have a drink? Maybe this helps explain it http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yVlkuGygLdw .
After this it was home time – tomorrow was the big day……………………………..(Monday), and the day before Gibbo’s birthday, and a month after Fab's, but nothing else.
Day 3 to follow shortly, now where's my jelly spoon
Day 3 to follow shortly, now where's my jelly spoon
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