Fart jokes still funny
Dragged my way up to York again for entertainment due to my sorry excuse for time management yesterday; a lovely city, I'd actually like to live there if I ever work out the employment issue. Lovely walls; saw a lot of them as I mooched around the one way system. Took a wrong turning as I was leaving and ended up by a walled segment where I specifically seem to once recall having a drunken conversation with FLoH and a mate of hers as to whether there was a lap dancing club nearby, and whether we should go in or not. It was a beer thing. We didn't. Funny how you find these places again you only barely remember from a mental snapshot of ten seconds of a really drunk evening, moons ago.
Anyway; mooched up to the Opera House, I recall this place being a real sweatpit at other times - not unpleasant in any way other than too bloody hot. Much more reasonable tonight. Plenty of time in hand so I mooched off in search of food and beer; as much as there were great eateries around, there was not much joy on the food front, I suspect the medico's would object tomorrow if I scoffed an entire steak supper to myself but found something to do anyway - had a half at the studi' bar behind the theatre (feeling old in there, folks) and a half in the Kings Head which although it's not ale pub, is a Sam Smiths pub and therefore damned fine, although the measure on the bar wall marking where the floods have got to in various years indicates that the local planning officer from about 250 years ago has got a bit to be answering for. For a non ale pub, I'd go in there again happily. Must be mellowing. I really rather like the riverside area in York, haven't been there in a lot of years and it's been developed. I would rather like an afternoon on the beer there.
Another sign of mellowing is that I no longer grind my teeth even though "pissed up group of middle aged women on the lash" have planted themselves squarely behind me when I finally take my seat at the theatre. Drunken laughter at high volume and odd harmonies will be the order of the day. But all laughter is good and I really don't mind. The support is Rob Deering; I'm sure I've seen this bloke on TV before.... HIGNFY, or just one of the comedy store / jongleurs things I tend to see when arriving home drunk at stupid o clock. I'm naturally prejudiced against chubby men who think they're funny (well, being one....) but Deering gives a good show; some bits work, others don't but most do; and at the end of the day, he's the support slot which is a sucky job. Jenny Eclair? She's a middle aged woman on acid, must be. Some serious energy being pumped into this performance, a bleached white and dyed black bespectacled dynamo; like Sue Pollard with better specs, an accent transplant and huge injections of wit by the tankerload. And yes, the fart joke sequence reduced this correspondent to tears. At her age, at our age, at her age, at our age. OOOOOH young woman! Sorry, Harry Outfield slipping in there for a moment. Most enjoyable. On stage for.... oooh, dunno, an hour plus and didn't much let up for a moment. Definately not a waste of my time. Those who missed, missed out. And apparently, another tour of Grumpy Old Women may be on the go. I may secretly attend in a skirt and wig so as to get away with my life.
And then - back into the funbuggy, heading south east for the day of NO fun at all....
Anyway; mooched up to the Opera House, I recall this place being a real sweatpit at other times - not unpleasant in any way other than too bloody hot. Much more reasonable tonight. Plenty of time in hand so I mooched off in search of food and beer; as much as there were great eateries around, there was not much joy on the food front, I suspect the medico's would object tomorrow if I scoffed an entire steak supper to myself but found something to do anyway - had a half at the studi' bar behind the theatre (feeling old in there, folks) and a half in the Kings Head which although it's not ale pub, is a Sam Smiths pub and therefore damned fine, although the measure on the bar wall marking where the floods have got to in various years indicates that the local planning officer from about 250 years ago has got a bit to be answering for. For a non ale pub, I'd go in there again happily. Must be mellowing. I really rather like the riverside area in York, haven't been there in a lot of years and it's been developed. I would rather like an afternoon on the beer there.
Another sign of mellowing is that I no longer grind my teeth even though "pissed up group of middle aged women on the lash" have planted themselves squarely behind me when I finally take my seat at the theatre. Drunken laughter at high volume and odd harmonies will be the order of the day. But all laughter is good and I really don't mind. The support is Rob Deering; I'm sure I've seen this bloke on TV before.... HIGNFY, or just one of the comedy store / jongleurs things I tend to see when arriving home drunk at stupid o clock. I'm naturally prejudiced against chubby men who think they're funny (well, being one....) but Deering gives a good show; some bits work, others don't but most do; and at the end of the day, he's the support slot which is a sucky job. Jenny Eclair? She's a middle aged woman on acid, must be. Some serious energy being pumped into this performance, a bleached white and dyed black bespectacled dynamo; like Sue Pollard with better specs, an accent transplant and huge injections of wit by the tankerload. And yes, the fart joke sequence reduced this correspondent to tears. At her age, at our age, at her age, at our age. OOOOOH young woman! Sorry, Harry Outfield slipping in there for a moment. Most enjoyable. On stage for.... oooh, dunno, an hour plus and didn't much let up for a moment. Definately not a waste of my time. Those who missed, missed out. And apparently, another tour of Grumpy Old Women may be on the go. I may secretly attend in a skirt and wig so as to get away with my life.
And then - back into the funbuggy, heading south east for the day of NO fun at all....
posted by Fred the Singing Bandit at 1:30 am
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home