Monthly Archives: April 2010

Eighteen.

I know quite a few comics that would rather have the KKK in attendance than their own mother and father. Presumably this comes from the same familial shackles that drives adults in their twenties, thirties and forties to conceal the fact that they smoke from their parents. It doesn’t matter how old you are, it seems that nobody wants to be on the receiving end of the “I’m not angry, I’m disappointed” look from one of your folks. Continue reading

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Seventeen.

Frequently a charity night will attempt to combine comedy with something else, presumably to broaden the night’s appeal to those that just don’t enjoy laughing. Comedy and music. Comedy and dance. Comedy and karaoke. Comedy and badger-baiting. Continue reading

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Sixteen.

For every promoter that throws money at you there’s another that watched you sweat, piss and bleed to death one night and can’t even look you in the eyes in case it’s contagious. Continue reading

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Fifteen.

The week passed… National Front, girls doing the splits, furries, wine gums… Business as usual. Continue reading

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Fourteen.

Believe me, when I say dressed as animals I mean DRESSED AS ANIMALS. Not Printworksesque hen nights in flashing bunny ears and powder puffs pinned to their arses. There were two guys in full costumes replete with entire head masks. Continue reading

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Thirteen.

I stood up to MC, said hello, paused for a moment and said. “Right, this isn’t going to work. Everyone move forward.” Atypically forward and aggressive of me. Tell you what though, it worked… Continue reading

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Twelve.

“I’ve feeling I’ll go back to Manchester and tell people I played The Spa in Bridlington last night. Then they’ll tell me that it can’t be possible, the venue burnt down six months ago.” Continue reading

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Eleven.

Don’t confuse Nottingham Trent with Nottingham, Manchester Met with Manchester, Liverpool John Moores with Liverpool, Sheffield Hallam with Sheffield or Salford with a university. Continue reading

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Ten.

There are numerous old wives tales and remedies to shift a niggling headache. I suspect that standing on a stage under a bright light with amplified music won’t make its way onto the list any time soon. Continue reading

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Nine.

My call time was 8pm… The clock was ticking and I had a hole in my gut. Tonight was a big deal. Continue reading

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