Born to Run

The highway's jammed with broken heroes on a last chance power drive. M6 Toll Clear.

Baby, this town rips the bones from your back, it's a death trap, it's a suicide rap. The schools are good, though.

Da daaa da da!

Name droppings

I met Craig David on Monday. We went down the pub on Tuesday.


I don't want to talk about Wednesday.

The Innocence of Youth

The little girl was sad. She told me that she thought she didn't get to the finals of the dance contest because she wasn't good enough. I dried her tears and smiled, all the while letting the hard, adult truth go unsaid, that she didn't reach the dance finals because God was punishing her for being born out of wedlock.

Competition Time

These are exciting times for me in the world of "comedy" as I've recently been nominated as a finalist for something.
That something is the Leicester Mercury Comedian of the Year, a prestigious competition previously won by luminaries like Rhod Gilbert, Johnny Vegas and some bloke who now works for Leicester Council.

In the last major competition final I was in, I wasn't that good, and got a particularly savage review, so this time, I'm going to write my own review and send it to the press to save them the bother...

Ben Davids has little in the way of charisma or originality, and if you placed a plank of balsa wood on stage with some jokes scrawled on it in bird shit, the effect would very much be the same.
Every comedian has a bad gig from time to time, but Davids seemed to take this one personally, and raised the question amongst the judges, 'Is it ever appropriate for a comedian to expose his testicles to the audience for a cheap laugh?'
The answer of course is no, and the worthy winner of the evening was Filtrum Kelly, whose warm tales of the London Underground were rapturously received by the Leicester crowd.

Review by Beef Stennet