This past week, people in Edinburgh paid £31 to see the television comedian Michael McIntyre’s warm-up shows of work-in-progress for his forthcoming stadium tour. Personally I never do warm-up shows for my own standup. My grandfather was of the opinion that you couldn’t polish a turd. He did, however, believe very strongly in lacquering them,…
I remember my first experience of the Edinburgh Fringe through a nostalgic haze. The Fringe was the postwar utopian ideal, but with jokes, experimental theatre and a lot of fried food; anyone could perform in it if they could raise the programme entry fee, still only a modest £246 today. Anyone might get audiences and…
“Visiting athletes enjoying their first taste of an East End curry have just discovered a new purpose for their Olympic Rings!” That was the tweet that started it all. Fans of me and my comedy work will know I am an inescapable presence on the Twitter social networking site and have more than 900,000 followers.…
Last week, I was reading Word, the culture primer for time-poor ageing hipsters, a midlife crisis in magazine form. Apparently, in December, the Tory feminist MP Louise Mensch, (whose ill-judged jokes about Occupy protesters on a recent Have I Got News for You sank slowly and silently like quern stones dropping down a deep Cotswold…
Britons from Scotland are the butt of many jokes. They are, apparently, financially cautious, fond of liquor and mistrustful of fruit. They delight in sexualised invertebrate torment and underestimate in their provision for female public toilets. And they over-indulge in recreational drug abuse. In fact, one of the few insults witty enough to be forgivable…