So the nice bits of our Saturday night were as follows:
We had a steak at a place called “The Black Rock Steakhouse”. What happened here is we were given a big and very hot rock to cook our own steak on. A bit odd asking people to cook their own dinner but at least we weren’t going to get something miles overdone. Some reviews mentioned that the writers left smelling like a stinky chef at the end of a shift. I didn’t notice that so much. The steak was rather good as were the chips.
After this we headed downstairs to the comedy night. One compere and 3 acts. The compere was rather good. He even did a couple of improvised raps which were remarkably entertaining in a “Oh my god a 23 year old white, public school educated, radio 4 listening, no chin wonder is rapping” sort of way. He did manage to the line “of the genus brassica” in to one of them so he deserves some kudos.
First comedian was a grumpy flat character. Was ok but not hilarious. Some decent deconstructing of the genre. But my problem with the grumpy character is that he’s already having to work harder to get the crowd up.
Second was some Canadian guy. Much more my thing. Can’t remember a load of what he did but he managed to get boob flashed by a drunk girl on the street.
Last was some Londoner with a voice like a young Danny Baker. Not as funny but he did put himself in a situation where one of the local families could have beaten him up. You know the kind of family – loud and annoying – sorting drinks orders out whilst the guy was on etc…
Until we got back to the car it was a rather decent evening out.
I woke up at 3 this morning giggling inanely. It’s not often this happens. I’d been having a dream and it seems to have been set on the Top Gear set.
Clarkson was doing his thing and then started talking about a new product – as if to make fun of it. Rather like they do every Christmas with the poor collection of merchandise stuff the car companies put out for consumption.
Anyway he was holding what looked like an old steel flask. Like a Thermos but older and more battered. This was the new product. This flask’s decor was simply some letters that looked like they’d been done with sticky back plastic.
And the product’s name was “WASPUS”.
And I woke up uncontrollably giggling.
How very bizarre.
 Omguh! It’s a place in Papua New Guinea. I have to go there. NOW! (I feel like Richard Dreyfuss in Close Encounters)
Amongst the list of podcasts I get through regularly is a comedy one called “The Bugle”. John Oliver and Andy Zaltzman host it and it’s usually very funny.
This week, however, they’ve gone and done a whole episode on the Bin Laden death.
Really not comedy gold.
I’m happy to forgive an occasional dud episode of something that’s usually so good. Unfortunately this time I heard it in the car on the way to Leicester. R was with me and I’d just bigged up the show as well worth listening to. So we’re zooming down the M1 and this tedious ramble through barely comedic thoughts wasn’t the introduction to the show I was after.
I was also surprised that the tone was celebratory. Wasn’t really the tone I was expecting.
Nicely timed (totally coincidentally) to be on Darwin Day I was looking forward to him going on about that somewhat, seeing as that’s his schtick sort of thing.
But he didn’t really. He mentioned it but didn’t really go off on one.
The place wasn’t full though and it felt more like a private party for him and his mates. More than half the crowd were teen girls who all fancy him and go to as many of his shows as they can afford. Even to the extent that he mentioned one or two of them on the front row by name.
But how embarrassing for him.
He did spend quite a lot of his time talking about his wife and daughter. It seemed like a desperate attempt at times to deflect the horny masses from embarrassing him further.
But the majority of the horny masses were of the “I go to sci-fi conventions” type. You know the “find gangs of similarly obsessed people and then it’s not an obsession no more, strength in numbers etc” kind of people.
Like me and my pals who go to juggling festivals (of all things!)
Not impressed by the vibe I’m afraid.
And it’s a shame because he’s pretty darned good. I have to say that as he rather effectively hit back at a nasty critic by the medium of song at one point.
As far as the show went it started and ended poorly for me though.
He did acknowledge the bad start by saying that he’s always bad at starting. Then he tried to intimate that he’d never heard of “Cradle of Filth”, as if.
But it proper picked up after that with some excellent gags and just the wrong side of “wrong” comments. Very good indeed.
And then he finished a great evening with a pretty meh song. But the crowd loved it, I suppose some people need a bit of wry-smile-at-best pathos after a good night’s proper hilarity.
Oh and I agree, the dancing bear was really not needed. Even if embarrassing a physics nerd is quite a giggle under normal circumstances.
A very good night out, but you can’t have every note as a high one.
I may have mentioned that I quite like Charlie Brooker’s work.
I’ve just been watching his latest episode of Screenwipe and it’ll remain with me for ages. Most notably for hearing Konnie Huq describe how she does a wee before then leading a bunch of men to wee on a hill to the strains of inspiring music.