Getting into a Flap at Leestock

 

 

Unbelievable! Not only has the beer tent at Leestock run out of rhubarb cider, they’re now down on the apricot too! So I’m trying out the coffee.

But, it’s a roasting hot day, and the milk content in this drink is so minimal that even Kahn, the vegan comic, would approve. The paper cup’s so hot, I’m about to drop it, I’m taking a shower in my own sweat and, with thoughts of Why didn’t I go for a cooling pint of gooseberry cider? on my mind, I’m barely in a fit state for what’s still to come. Or, rather, who’s still to come. Because next up is my ‘cousin’, Ali Warwood!

According to my best mate and lover, Ancestry.com, everyone in or from the Midlands and Shropshire, is in my genetic family, and is, therefore, my cousin, so just thought I’d do a bit of finding fame by association (celebrity stalking!) and add Ali from Wolverhampton to my family tree! Why not?

But I fear that I’m a little premature in my haste to get back to see Ali, because she appears to be in a bit of a state. Surely my pink wig isn’t that off-putting? It’s not all about me, after all, though (in fact, none of it’s about me), because the real source of her anxiety is soon made clear. She’s telling how, as a lesbian, she is particularly susceptible to stress because she likes getting into a flap. Unfortunately, it’s not very windy today, and the tent is pretty secure so I’m not sure that we’ve got too much excitement to offer her, here at Lees …. Oh! Sorry, I’m a bit slow today … the dulling effect of cider. Need some more.

 
Something has just occurred to me. I auditioned for Yaz Fetto’s (one half of The Monks), new TV sketch comedy earlier, and was turned down. He said he wanted young, black and skinny, not a sunburnt-red- faded-ginger-middle-age-spread type. But I’m thinking that maybe it was the cider inside me that was the real barrier to my success. Still, a pink wig and a pint dulls the pain of rejection … See you later, Ali!
 
But there’s a real-cute little toddler, with a very angry face, blocking my exit – Ali’s offspring! And there’s a Size 6 blonde-model-type – Ali’s wife – struggling to hold the cutie back. I feel that an attack is imminent, so I’ll stay for the rest of Ali’s set. And, you never know, the Size 6 babe, might be on the lookout for other gorgeous babes, of the pale and pasty, once-was-ginger variety, to pose with her for her next shoot. So, yes, I will stay. It’s all about networking!
Ali’s offering some sound advice. She’s saying that having a toddler gives you access to Parent and Child parking, which is almost as good as having a disabled friend. No, Ali, I’ve just seen your daughter – she has the power to give you sole access to all the privileges the world can offer, and she’ll write off all your enemies in the process. If you want a full audience, take that kid with you – everywhere!
But, it is time, Ali, to love you and your family and leave you … No, she’s still there. Still blocking my exit. Looks like I’m staying for the next act.
Just as well, because Gavin Milnethorpe’s my all-time favourite comedian. He plays guitar and has an extensive vocal range – I model myself upon Gavin’s example (’tis okay – I’m not going to steal the limelight here with another rendition of my Pea song, but I do have another …. No?).
Poor Gavin. I do feel sorry for him. His wife’s just left him and shacked up with a Fitness Instructor. But that’s no reason  for him to tell us all about his ‘big willy’ and his fetish for ‘detachable breasts’. I’m feeling kind of embarrassed for him, when I suddenly realise how attractive he is. He doesn’t snore and he only poos when he’s at work  … no, I misheard that (hallucinatory effects of cider) – he only poos on an evening or a weekend! So, no ladies, if you really would like to keep your ensuite toilet odour free, steer clear of Gavin!
I really am enjoying all of the jolly sing-a-long-with-me routine. Even when slightly inebriated, it’s easy to remember the lyrics. ‘This is fun, fun, fun, fun, fun …. in the sun, sun …’ Oops, correction needed – he was singling about the ‘pun, pun, pun, pun, pun’ – not the sun! But, that’s okay, because I can use my new lyrics for my own set, without being accused of plagiarism. Cheers, Gav! Just off to write that down before I forget ..
No, I can’t leave yet. She’s still there! Perhaps it’s my pink wig? If I take it off, will she let me pass?
NO!
And how can I leave at this point in the proceedings anyway? The Headline act’s up next! It’s the Big One! No, it’s not your willy, Gavin …. it’s …
JUNIOR SIMPSON!
Copyright owned by Jay Cool (alias Chooky), May 2017
If you like a ‘big willy’, or fancy seeing someone in a ‘flap’, you can see Gavin Milnethorpe and Ali Warwood in action by attending our forthcoming gigs – keep checking the billing lists – as these two are regulars, who keep coming back for more!
 
  • Be quick, if you want tickets for the Big Comedy Night on Wednesday 31st, at the Ipswich Hotel. They are available via: havingalaughforcharity.co.uk/index2.html

Peeing for a Miracle at Leestock

The mustard’s hot but the sun is scorching and I need to get back into the protective shade of the Comedy Tent, before the The Monks take to the stage. The beer tent just happens to be en route – it’s almost as conveniently placed as the Portaloos! So I take a quick look at the cider list and decide to go for a cooling pint of rhubarb cider. It’s heaven! It’s so good that I’m only just in the nick of time to see The Monks opening their set.

And they’re telling us how they narrowly avoided a prolonged trip to heaven themselves. Proud of their Christian identities, they announce their faith to the world  – a few small children who’ve been deposited in the comedy tent by their parents (who’ve no doubt taken the opportunity to nip next door for the rest of the rhubarb cider!) – before taking a long pause in which to gauge our reaction …………

There is no reaction – the children are engrossed in games of Pokémon on their parents’ phones. Great tactic – leave your phone with the kids and they can’t ring you whilst your midway through your pint – or the next pint – or the next …! Just as I’m about to boo The Monks off the stage (Just kidding – my dad’s a vicar!), they start to tell us how welcome they feel, because at one horrific performance, on making this very same announcement, they were booed off the stage (Glad I restrained myself!). Apparently, that was the last time ever that Yaz Fetoo peformed in a mosque!

But, mosques aside, then I am starting to feel a little empathy with these guys. I did, after all, have similar experience myself once, when I dressed up as pea pod to take to the stage at a Park Resorts’ talent context, to sing ‘Peas, Glorious Peas!’, accompanied by my ukulele.’ I’ll do a little rendition for you now – you know you want to hear it – and here are the lyrics, so you can sing along:

Peas, glorious peas
Don’t eat us with custard

We’ve been bound
We’ve been gagged
We’ve been sealed in a pod
And we wish we could be ….
Free like a ….

Peas, glorious peas
You won’t taste us with mustard
We’re not so disgusting
Just give us a chance

We’ve been picked
We’ve been tagged
We’ve been sealed in a tin
And we wish we could be ..
Free like a …

Peas, glorious peas
Don’t think that you’ve sussed us
We’re not so revolting
Just give us some pants

We’ve been popped
We’ve been bagged
We’ve been sealed in a fridge
And we wish we could be ….
Free like a ….

Pee!

As you can see (’tis a blessing you can’t hear it!), then it was pretty good and highly original (and I’ve even got several variations on the lyrics, and on the combinations in which to play the three chords), so I’ve got absolutely no idea why I was heckled off the stage. And, I gave it another go the next year – the reaction was rather similar, but I’m still going up there again next time. So my advice to The Monks is to ‘Get back in there! Never give up! What’s the worst that can happen?’

Oops, got side-tracked. So sorry! Forgot I was supposed to be promoting Suffolk Punch Comedy Club, rather than myself (You just can’t get the right kind of volunteers, can you PJ, these days?). And The Monks didn’t need my advice, because they’re here aren’t they? Here at Leestock and the crowds (the crying children) are absolutely loving them! But all I can think about is the detention that one of these unfortunate kids is going to get after their next RE lesson!

“And today, children, can you put your hands up and tell me how many days it took God to create the universe?”
“Six days, Miss!”
“Yes, and isn’t it wonderful that God can perform such miracles!”
“But he hired a comedian, Miss!”

Yas Fetto – the children of Sudbury love you! And this still-to-grow-up-middle aged lady loves you! Please come back again!

S***! I’m back at the beer tent and – can you believe it? – they’re out of rhubarb cider! But, it’s no matter, there’s still a barrel of apricot cider and it’s got 0.5% more alcohol in it than the rhubarb. Sorry, PJ – just taking a quick break – my muscles aches from all that note-taking – will be back later …

Copyright owned by Jay Cool (alias Chooky), May 2017

If you fancy dallying with some of your favourite comedians, please attend one of Suffolk Punch Comedy’s forthcoming events (just don’t bring the children, or Pokémon!):

  • First Wednesday of every month at The Brewery Tap, Sudbury, Suffolk – a free event (donations welcomed in support of Prostate Cancer Research)
  • 31st May at the Ipswich Hotel – Junior Simpson is the headline act! Book your tickets at: havingalaughforcharity.co.uk/index2.html  And be quick!
Or, if you are a comedian (Strictly, no peas, please!), come and perform your set for us! Contact PJ at: suffolkpunchcomedyclub@zoho.com
 

Bank Holiday Monday Newsflash!

I did it. I really did do it! I got back up there (actually, because I was up bright and early with a bit of a headache, I did a short rehearsal of my set on my front lawn this morning)! My neighbours are friendly types and this is what happened to one of my body parts:

 

Standing up with the Hot Stuff at Leestock

 

Get this. Some guy in the Thailand made MSN headline news after he, rather vainly, took a selfie on a coach trip. Not because he was a dish, but because the photo featured some British girl’s stinky feet. A pair of feet rudely perched upon the unfortunate guy’s headrest. You may be wondering why I’m thinking about this news now, whilst standing in comedy tent at Leestock, admiring the fine specimen of ripened tofu who stands on the stage before me – the honourable vegan Kahn Johnson! But there you have it, or I have it!

 

Because there’s a rancid odour wafting up my delicate nostrils, and it seems to be all around me, so I’m having some trouble establishing its origin. Kahn was hyper just a few moments ago and, whereas it could be that the odour’s drifting in on a heatwave from the Portaloos, I’m swaying towards (and leaning away from) the alternative explanation. Everyone who’s anyone knows that vegans fart a lot! And it’s apparent that, as Kahn leaves his platform, he is somewhat deflated. Is this what he’s left us with? Because, if Kahn is the source of the stench, then I’m thinking that perhaps I could turn my back on him, and take a quick Kahn’s-arse-in-the-background-capturing selfie and, if I share it to MSN, it could still make this evening’s headlines.

 

So, have I succeeded? No! I check my photo storage APP, and all I’ve managed to do is capture a view of the Portaloo cabins. It’s a fine scene, but a wasted opportunity, so I make a mental note to ask one of the young folk how to put the camera into selfie mode! But, right now, there’s no way I’m going to miss the next big moment. I’ve heard a rumour that the next comedian on the billing, Adam Bromley, has, like myself, a bit of an obsession with caves. So, in an exploratory kind of way, I’m really looking forward to what’s coming ..

 

But the truth turns out to be quite a small big moment. Because Adam’s tiny. He’s tiny and he looks like Frodo Baggins. He’s got a full head of hair (No, I don’t mean down there!); it is kind of cute and curly but, to be honest, I’m feeling like I’ve been duped. I had plans to invite him back to my own dilapidated cave (Yes, I know you know what I mean – you live in a Bovis home too!), and persuade him to partake in a little maintenance work, but he’s carrying on about how he’s always too drunk to prove his manhood. His last attempt at fixing a shelf to the wall for his wife’s books, resulted in the books being stuck to the wall with gaffer tape! What a flop! Sorry, ladies, we ain’t gonna be helping any men stand up, if we get too close to a Bromley.

What with all that mature cheddar, rancid tofu, and slices of over-ripe and over-soft Bromley’s, I’ve gone right off the idea of a healthy lunch. And, I was never that keen on Ploughman’s anyway, so I head over to the burger tent to check out the offers. After lots of prevarication, I opt for a veggie burger – the only option for a would-be-if-I-could-manage-without-my-full-cream-Jersey-cow-breakfast-milk vegan! But all is not lost on the variety front, because I’m offered some fried onion additions, and I top it off with some of the hot stuff – no, I haven’t got the Tom Hardy doppelganger comedian with me – it’s the tried-and-tested, and always reliable, Colman’s mustard. This is okay, because Yaz Fetto are on next, and they’re a Christian comic duo, which means that as a vicar’s daughter, I’ve got to be good …

 

Hence, I’ve forgotten all about Will Jones (alias Tom Hardy), Tom Caruth, Kahn Johnson and Adam Bromley – and I’ve forgotten all about my helping-men-stand-up project – for now!

 

 

Copyright owned by Jay Cool (alias Chooky), May 2017
 

 

By order of Chooky, please visit havingalaughforcharity.co.uk/index2.html to find out more about Suffolk Punch Comedy Club’s next big event!
Please note that I did intend to return to this blog and include a direct quote from the Thai bus news article but, since my internet temporarily went down, due to last night’s storm, BT have decided that an article about smelly feet is not appropriate for one such as myself, and have now blocked it from ever making a comeback!
http://www.brightgram.com/rude-backpacker-refuses-to-move-her-rancid-smelly-feet-from-disgusted-passengers-head-rest-on-a-bus-in-thailand/  has been blocked by BT Parental Controls because the account holder has Custom filters on.
Seems that smells are now in the same category as swears – b*****!

 

Loving the Loos at Leestock

Portaloos. Ports for pooing in are a great idea, especially when they are located right next to the Comedy Tent at the Leestock festival. The sensation provided by massaging the disinfecting gel into my sunburnt hands is almost quite enjoyable, and I feel like staying a little longer.

The Portaloo’s Cabin is really quite well fitted out. There’s a mirror on the door, so I feel it’s only right to indulge in a little bit of a lot of self-love. It’s as well that it’s the right thing to do, because I have no choice about it. I’m hovering above the loo seat – there’s no way I’m sitting on someone else’s bum cells – and the space is so confined that, as my torso tips forward, I find I’m practically kissing my own reflection. This would be okay, except that it’s one of those magnifying mirrors, and I’m instantly enlarged …

There’s a great big thick black hair adorning a massive mole on the middle bulge of what I now realise is a triple chin. It’s no good. I’m about to witness the one and only Tom Caruth do his Australian Chewbacca impersonation (Yes, I’ve seen it before – several times – but I’m not a stalker!) and I just can’t go through with it – not in the company of this ginormous black hair!

I tug and tug – and tug and tug some more – but, unlike in the Magic Turnip story, there’s no mouse to help out, and  it’s not going anywhere. It’s well and truly embedded into my middle-chin mole and what’s more, I’ve now stretched it. There’s nothing I can do. I mentally detach myself from my chin, my mole, and my hair and move on out.

The light’s a little dimmer in the shade of the tent, so I’m thinking that nobody can see the hair. But my chin jerks downwards. I realise I’ve just trodden on the hair, which now seems to be about five foot long! Focus. I must hold my head up high, painful as that might be, and focus. Focus on Tom …

And Tom is in full throttle – he’s now well into his Chewbacca impression, but I feel convinced that he must have the same car as me -an ancient Renault Espace, because it’s exactly the same guttural gurgle that my beloved car made on it’s way into the Leestock car park earlier, when it stalled, at the very moment I realised I was about to drive it into the exit. I don’t very often thank my Renault for stalling but, on this occasion – I still didn’t thank it – I thanked the Lord! Because out of the exit (my entrance) emerged a chauffeur-driven limousine, quite possibly the very vehicle which had, until a few moments ago, had the rear ends of celebrity artists on its leather upholstery. Ed Sheeran? James Blunt? Or, more likely, James Faulkner, today’s Headline Act. James Blunt. James Faulker. James …. Focus! I must refocus … Tom. Tom Caruth.

And I’m back and Tom’s back, or rather Tom’s here, here in the Comedy Tent at Leestock and he’s now telling us all about his girlfriend, about how she complains that he doesn’t understand her, but that he doesn’t even know what that means. It’s okay, Tom, I can help you out there! I know all about young women – I was one once – and experience counts for a lot. I can put things into simple step by step language that you will understand and go through it all with you, slowly. Very, very slowly. But, we’ll put that one aside for now – it can wait awhile. It can wait and mature, so to speak, because next up’s Kahn – an old hand! The mature type. Mature, like a rich-smoked strong cheddar cheese.

But, what’s this? Kahn Johnstone’s babbling on about tofu. Turns out he’s a vegan! A smoking vegan. An old smoking vegan! An ancient piece of fossilised vegetable, fantasising about burlesque-feathered lap dancers. Hah! Seems he likes a bit of pigeon pie after all! And, for some unknown random reason, the pigeon lady’s song – from my favourite musical, Mary Poppins – comes into my head (Actually, it’s been stuck there on replay for a very long time – since I looked, a few minutes ago, into the mirror that never lies!) ‘ Feed the birds, tuppence a bag. Tuppence, tuppence. Tuppence a bag.  Feel my mole, tuppence a pluck! Tuppence, tuppence. Tuppence a pluck! Listen, listen, and … give me a pluck.”

Come on, Kahn … you’re a celebrity and I’m an old bird. Please, help me out ….!

Copyright owned by Jay Cool (nickname: Chooky), May 2017


If you’d like to see Tom Caruth and Kahn Johnstone in action for yourself, please come to our forthcoming Suffolk Punch Comedy events:

First Wednesday of every month, at the Brewery Tap, in Sudbury, Suffolk. Free entry. Donations welcome for Prostate Cancer Research.

31st May, at the Ipswich Hotel. Tickets available now at: havingalaughforcharity.co.uk/index2.html





Newflash! Seems that Trump has a little ‘mole’ problem too! tinyurl.com/yaph792p Might see if I can liaise with him about his techniques for mole-hair removal! WATCH THIS SPACE!


Please also head over to the author’s family history/travel blog:



Laughter on Location at Leestock

I’m here at Leestock, at last. I’ve located the Comedy Tent and I’m all excitable! What a relief! I’m jumping up and down and can hardly contain myself. I can see that the renowned comic, Kahn Johnson, has taken the stage, and that the crowd is loving it. Loving it and loving him! What a relief indeed …
But it’s not Kahn and his jokes about Trump relieving himself that have got me going. No far from it or, rather, close to it! With me, you see, it’s all about location. The thing that’s got me hopping about from foot to foot is a sight for sore eyes – I’m standing right next to a Tom Hardy doppelganger! But no, not even Tom’s identical twin, the self-acclaimed-sexy-voiced-comedian Will Jones, is doing it for me. There’s something better. Something – lots of somethings – much, much better! And I’m thinking that I might even try my hand at some on-the-spot impro’ comedy, and shout it out loud – turn my back on my selfish ways – share a little bit of my discovery with everyone – steal some of Kahn’s thunder! But, I’m not really like that – I’m not at attention seeker, so I restrain myself and hold it all in …
And, in any case, Kahn’s off and Tom’s on.
Tom’s peeling the layers off his old landlady, a fine woman with traditional values – you know the type! The sort who invites Tom Hardy lookalikes into her sitting room and pats the space next to her  on her soft and squishy two-seater – the only available perch – whilst pouring her next victim some of her finest Indian tea, into a fine China teacup. And, when seated, she leans into him, whispering softly into his ear about why the only available bedsit is in a bit of a mess, with a bit of a bad aroma, and an unmade bed, and why he can’t possibly go in there, quite yet, to take a look for himself, because the last tenant is still in there, having a ‘lie-in’ – quite a nice student really, but – it’s just that she’s Chinese you see. And the tenant before that, well he was an Indian lad! And you know what the Chinese are like – and the Indians – all the noodles and the curry – all the lingering smells – all the flatulence. And I can visualise exactly what Tom describes; I can see the old landlady; I can smell the odour – she’s leaning in, getting closer, lingering, her tongue hovering around his ear-lobes …But, she pulls back!
She pulls back, and I pull back, because something behind me has drawn me back – I can’t hold on. Tom Caruth’s on next, and I don’t want to miss out on anything. I need to go somewhere and  I need to go there now.
I force myself to de-magnetise myself from Will Jones’s deep, deep eyes and sexy tones and I turn to my rear. Not to my rear end, but to the scene behind me – the one that so excited me on my arrival. The Comedy Tent is pitched right next to a fine row of Portacabins, complete with Portaloos. It really does bring back memories of my Caravan Club childhood. And, to top it all off, there’s no queue – I can take my pick! I can poo in any loo of my choosing.
I go for it and take a run up to the nearest and, hopefully, the cleanest. And it’s not at all bad, not bad at all. There’s still some bog roll left, and us lucky festival-goers have even been provided with some squelchy gel. But, it turns out that it’s antiseptic handwash – rather than some of that lubricating stuff for the middle-aged.
Still, one can’t have everything. And Tom Caruth awaits!

Copyright owned by Jay Cool, May 2017

If you want a share in the excitement, buy your tickets for the Big Comedy Night at the Ipswich Hotel, on 31st May via the link: havingalaughforcharity.co.uk/index2.html  The evening is organised by the Suffolk Punch Comedy Club and profits go to Prostate Cancer Research. Stand up in support of our men and be there!

You can also join in the fun at a free gig on the first Wednesday of every month, at The Brewery Tap, in Sudbury, Suffolk.

Now head over to the author’s ‘Back to the Myddle’ blog:

Seconds of Seconds in the month of May – and Still Standing!

Memorable. Awkward. I’m running down East Street, shouting ‘Stop that wan***! Stop that wan***! Steggsy’s nicked off with the Ladies’ toilet roll!’ And, all the time, I’m trying to hang onto my jeans, in a futile attempt to keep them hanging low, and avoid falling victim to any brown staining. But it’s a waste of time. I look like an complete fruit-loop, and Steggsy’s long-since gone! There’s nothing else for it. I sneak back into The Tap – everyone’s looking at me – and I grab the last remaining bar towel, before I hurtle back to the Ladies’.

By the time I’ve managed to dispose of the bar towel down the Ladies’ sanitary disposal system, Ali Warwood’s up there on the stage, extolling the benefits of being a new mother. Seems that a baby’s as good as having a disabled friend, when it comes to parking at Tesco, but it’s not so good if it’s a hairy baby, and you get taken as a doppelganger for Nicola Sturgeon’s mother! But, I’m still a little traumatised by my recent experience, and I cannot help but think about another advantage of having a baby and visiting Tesco – because at least, at Tesco, if there’s no bog roll, you can grab one of their free nappies from the ‘Mother & Baby’ room, and, once torn into useable strips, it can be disposed of down the sanitary system. But, I digress. Back to Ali …

But, Ali’s gone, and we’re now listening to Lucy Thompson, who’s kicking off her Edinburgh Preview act with a poem about her worst school dinner experience – ‘sheep’s turd wallpaper paste masquerading as apple pie’. And I wonder whether I should have attempted to strip off some of The Brewery Tap’s wallpaper, before I resorted to wiping my bum with a bar towel. Funny, my concentration’s not so hot today – I must refocus…

And Lucy’s telling us how she has to hold it all in for an hour, during stand-ups, before dashing off to the toilet for a sit-down, and a secretive downing of another pint of Aspall’s and red. None of this is helping me. I’m laughing my head off, and it’s creating a  problem. For, I too have been downing a pint of Aspall’s, and it’s done nothing for my own bladder. It’s alright for Lucy – she’s just a young’un – us older ladies – who’ve already had our share of baby popping – us older ladies have our issues! It’s no good. By this time, I’m guffawing, and I’ve completely lost it! I’m out of control and my bladder’s out of control; the Tap’s out of bog roll, and it doesn’t even provide free nappies – let alone free incontinence pads!

I do the only thing I can do in the circumstances, and tie my cardigan around my waist – a make-shift skirt that covers all evils!

Lucy’s now carrying on about how her girlfriend dumped her in the Lake District and made off with the only tube of toothpaste. With bad breath and a broken heart, Lucy boarded the train for home all on her lonesome-ownsome and cried. Ahhhh! And we’re supposed to feel sorry for you Lucy. Well, next time – be grateful! Be grateful and thank the Lord! Because, at least – at least she didn’t make off with your bog roll – and at least,  you got to sit down on the train with a clean bum and a dry ‘****’!

Lucy was lovely. And Lucy was luscious. But, I had some serious cleaning-up to do, so, at this stage of the proceedings, I did the right thing – and departed company with my new friends Ali and Lucy, wishing them well for the future, and offering Lucy a few words of advice for her trip to the Edinburgh Fringe. Take a spare toothbrush, and guard it closely, and, if you want to hold your audience for the full duration, always carry on your person – a spare bog roll!

If you enjoyed this blog and you’d like to be on some of the action yourself. Bring yourself, a friend, and a spare bog roll, down to The Brewery Tap, Sudbury, Suffolk, on the first Wednesday of every month. The comedians take the stand from 8pm. Entry is free. Donations are, however, welcome in aid of Prostate Cancer Research.

News flash! Tickets are now on sale for a big comedy spectacular in aid of Prostate Cancer Research, on Wednesday 31st May, at the Ipswich Hotel. Come and help men stand up against cancer!

Standing Up for Seconds at the Tap

Can’t believe it. They knew I was coming. My Aspall’s is here, at the bar in The Brewery Tap, ready and waiting! So you can imagine my distress, when just as I take my first swig, my pint glass is nearly knocked out of my hand by a Justin Bieber lookalike – none other than the Biebalicious Kirsty Hudson, our MC for the night, swinging and swishing her self-professed sexy hips up to the stage, to Bieber’s ‘As Long As You Love Me!’ Yes, Kirsty, we all love you – just don’t get between me and my Aspall’s!

And I don’t suggest you get between Tom Steggles and his flannel either. You’re making a mistake, Kirsty, by trying to put this handsome young man off from the ‘orange’ Essex girls, because once you’ve ensnared him with your wit, he won’t be able to get enough of your …. flannels, tissues, toilet paper, or even your socks! The girls don’t come in quick enough for this self-gratifying comic. He’s not the kind of ‘new man’ you can train up to do your dirty dishes – he’ll make off your tea-towel collection, and experiment with his own particular brand of starching product. Any girl’s in need of a rough edge to keep our Tom standing! In fact, I’m feeling more than a little relief of my own, now Tom’s off, and you’re back on, Kirsty! Just not quite sure why you didn’t send him off to Bieber’s track of ‘Love Yourself!’

What a welcome contrast it is, when our PJ finally stands up! Shame he’s mistaken the gig for a Weight Watcher’s Meetup; he’s apologising to the audience about the time he weighed in on the butcher’s scales at three stone! Three stone – at the age of one! As we all sit there empathising with PJ about the various failed diets he’s tried, including the Caveman and Ronseal diets – I can’t help but notice Kirsty, still salivating over trim-fit Tom’s tight torso – and I stifle a lightbulb moment …. PJ and the Sock Spunk Diet! “I have to do something!” laments PJ. Well, go on then PJ! What are you waiting for?

Just as I’m anticipating the melodic Kirsty launching into Nickelback’s version of ‘What are you waiting for?’, she’s turfed off her platform by a poet. An ever so slightly senile poet. Says he needed his script with him, due to his ageing brain cells – he isn’t wrong! He’s started ranting on about his Grand Grandfather, claiming he was a serial killer, a serial killer who’d dug on old skull up from a garden in Sudbury. No, old man – you’ve got a bit muddled – that was Simon of Sudbury – you saw his head in a box at St Gregory’s church and he was beheaded many hundreds of years ago, and very publically, in front of the masses. We’re here in The Brewery Tap, attempting to stitch a few heads back on, and to prop a few heads back up, in a minority stand against Prostate Cancer. (And no, Kirsty, Tom does not at this point want you to give him head – I just saw him leave – he’s made off with the towelled bar mats! He needs you not!)

So come on, folks – don’t falter! Turn the minority into a massive majority. Get yourselves up! Join us in The Brewery Tap. Help Suffolk Punch Comedy Club keep our men standing!

Phew, there’s no ‘let down’ – that was just the first half of the evening! Need a break, need a crap .. oh no, someone’s taken off with all the bog roll! Back soon!

Be at The Brewery Tap, Sudbury, Suffolk, at 8pm – the first Wednesday of every month. Free entry, so ‘What are you waiting for?’ Donations in support of Prostate Cancer Research welcome!
Also, check out Fatsoma, to secure tickets to the forthcoming Suffolk Punch Comedy Show at the Ipswich Hotel, on Wednesday 31st March. Get up, stand up, hurry!

 

The Morning After the Tap

This morning, I find myself sporting a new kind of hangover, one that, for once, has nothing to do with the great quantity of Aspall’s cider I downed at The Brewery Tap last night (only two pints!) Instead, I find myself wondering whether a couple of paracetamol tablets, will cure me of the dizzy after-effects of a brainwashing session with the great Comic Psychic, Gavin Milnethorpe, and his guru side-kick, his trusty guitar; a guru who managed to mesmerise and entrance an entire audience, so much so, that we all just sat there, swaying in unison, and singing over and over and over again … the spellbinding chant of: ‘Fun, fun, fun; pun, pun, pun ….!’  Even PJ, the organiser and MC for the Suffolk Punch Comedy Club, joined in with the …. fun, fun, fun …. Oh no, here I go again – I’m still under Gavin’s command – time to go and check out my cupboard for that hangover cure!

Seems someone got to the paracetamol supplies before me, but some strong coffee (Tesco Value! I’m making the most of it, as Tesco have, apparently, just done away with their Value range – tragic!) should do the trick. But, back to The Tap and a ‘lizard who performs comedies as a stand-up chameleon’. Oh no, that’s one of Gavin’s jokes – he’s still got his hold over me! Out with the Value, and in with the Nescafe!

And in with Will Jones, who came back to the Tap for seconds, in spite of his claims that he was accosted on the way over to Sudbury by some ‘odd people’ from Colchester, who wanted more of his sexy voice and Tom Hardy good looks. (The truth came out later – that Will had, of his own free will, been perusing the shelves in Ann Summer’s, in his quest for an ‘anal loop’! No wonder, he was a magnet for all the odd bods out there!) Fortunately, he did, eventually, set foot in the Tap and to entertain us ordinary folk of Sudbury with his tales of ‘frogs, midwives and seduction’ (I’ll leave it to the imagination of some of our more creative blog readers, to work out the connection between these three topics! Post your thoughts on ‘frogs, midwives and seduction’ to the Suffolk Punch Comedy Club web page!).

Perhaps the residents of Colchester are a little odd, but at least we can boast about how ‘attractive’ we are in Sudbury; because, instead of being under the thrall of Gavin, the Rubenesque comedian, Kirsty Hudson, seemed captivated by her audience of drunken punters, and, by the time she’d finished entertaining us and being entertained by us, with a two-way tidal barrage of banter about ‘dead dads’ and’ useless stepdads’, she was even considering a permanent move from her home-town of B.S.E. to sunny Sudbury!

We were all, however, too much and too inland for the ‘wanking, beach walking’ Martin Westgate; by the time he’d finished ranting about Piers Morgan and his ‘cock’, and we’d finished commiserating with him about the uselessness of the Pedi-Egg for the removal of the scales on our scalps, he was desperate to escape from the Tap and search for other fish to batter. Martin is clearly a comedian best suited to coastal climates but, who knows, perhaps we can net him back in for a return visit ….

As for Chris Douce, well, he leaves me a little aggrieved. I may affiliate myself with Sudbury, but I originated from a cave in the middle of the country, somewhere in the Midlands, so I’m kind of offended that he tried out his best Brummy accent on us (failing dismally, as he’s a Londoner), and then came to the conclusion that one shouldn’t waste time replacing ‘one speech impediment with another’! I’m still reeling from that one …. Cheers, Chris! I felt slightly better, though, when the whole of Sudbury (loyal, as always, to it’s best immigrant) joined in with my protestations, and Chris found himself being ‘heckled by a car alarm’! So, Chris, please take your ‘stammer’ under the ‘hammer’ because we’re putting you back up for auction on Ebay! (Ha, ha! Can’t think why I don’t do stand-up?!)

Our last, but one, comedian – Sarah Sheldon – nearly didn’t make it to Sudbury at all! An indecisive type, she missed her first train, when she spent too long choosing her sandwich filling at one of Liverpool Street’s snack outlets. Next time, Sarah, put off your food frenzy until you arrive at the Tap – they do a great range of pies, and I’m told they have plans to expend some of their energy into pumping up the punters with a vegetarian filler (Aspall’s cider! A favourite with all discerning veggies; better than its porky alternative of pig’s bladder-filtered grape juice!) But, being serious (impossible at Suffolk Punch Comedy), Sarah, we’d love to entice you back and get the sequel to your tale about Mrs Phut-Phut from Saint Albans – we don’t get out of Sudbury much!

A grand finale was presented to us by the half-Turkish Saban Kazim, from Peckham, who failed his comprehension test for the 13+ exam, when he responded to the question about his current situation: ‘Do you attend a Comprehensive School?’ with ‘No, my dad only insured his taxi with third party, fire and theft!’ Oh well, it was their loss, and Sudbury’s gain! As who knows what kind of a high-flying position Saban would be in now, had he passed? And, now, we are all that he has left – a sad lot of Sudbury punters, hanging out and flopping out at the Brewery Tap,  desperate for a few laughs to make all of our men stand up again ….

So, yes Martin, we all agree with you – Piers Morgan is a ‘cock! And we also agree with Chris – that Piers is a ‘twat’ as well as a ‘cock’. But, in spite of our confusion over Piers’ biological sex features, Susan Boyle still loves him, and as her most loyal fan, I beg of you all, on behalf of the Suffolk Punch Comedy Club, to stand up and come … back to the Tap, and back to Sudbury. Bring Piers along, if you have to, but make sure that Susan is in tow. And don’t spend too long choosing sandwich fillings before making your return. Sudbury loves you (and our men need you)!

If you enjoyed this blog, please come along to our next gig at the Brewery Tap, Sudbury, on Wednesday, 4th of May, and find out for yourselves what all the fuss is about. This will be a free event. All voluntary contributions to a collection pot will be donated the Prostate Cancer Research charity. Come on, stand up and be there!

An additional ‘Comedy and Curry’ event, ticket-only, will be held at the rugby club in Bury St Edmunds, on Friday, 28th of April. Check out ‘Suffolk Punch Comedy’ events, via the online ticket agency ‘Fatsuma’ – and book your seats. Don’t miss out! Profits from the ticket sales go to Prostate Cancer Research.

It’s all happening in Sudbury and we’re spilling over into Bury St Edmunds. Keep going, Sudbury!

Copyright owned by Jay Cool, April 2017

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