18 July 2009

Comedy night with Spencer Brown

Comedy night with Spencer Brown proved to fulfil his reputation to a tee. He hates hecklers and can’t handle them at all. Cue us lot all high on cheap deal white wine from Threshers giving him a bit of stick. This happened at one of his previous shows; there were a group sitting in the front row. Spencer Brown engaged them in conversation but when they spoke to him, he totally lost it. He said to the woman, who was there with her mum, boyfriend and friends, that "he'd never called someone's mum a cunt in front of them before, but your mum's a cunt", then called her that over and over again, He couldn't control himself (he was truly angry and his insults seemed genuine), and he took the cheap option of abusing members of the audience.

Compere Matthew Crosby loves to interact with the audience and he can take anything thrown at him, indeed he encourages it, and the audience totally oblige. We were doing Mexican waves. Last time he was inviting abuse and duly received such highs as ‘get your top off’ (he did) and DFL baiting (down from London), ‘outsider’ he hissed to someone who put their hand up when he said ‘anyone down from London tonight?’. Maybe you had to be there to appreciate how bad it was? It was getting so bad even the hecklers were being heckled by other audience members. ‘Will you shut up?’ Our leader, Sara, strode bravely out with the ultimate heckle guaranteed to throw even the most seasoned comedian; shouting out random words totally unassociated with the show. ‘Spring!’ Oh how I laughed whilst sucking on my chocolate sweeties. Sara even made the local paper’s gossip column last week. ‘My spies tell me…’

After I tried to get into the Soulful Sessions gig at Dukes. Karen from the Smack’s brother was bouncing on the door but wouldn’t entertain entry. I heard later that the police locked them all in, sniffer dogged and searched everyone for drugs. Nice. No wonder their website is down. We’d better watch ourselves at the next Smack gig I suppose.

Well, looked like it was a late drink at the Fountain, the one and only haven for alternative locals to hang out, let themselves go a bit with impunity and get well and truly ratarsed on strong liquor. The place was rammed. All the local scallys’ were there bawling and shouting and generally creating confusion. It was great. Long suffering Martin behind the bar refuelling the masses with a smile. I just sat by the pool table talking to JP, who has just split up with her husband of 5 years, Conrad. Him being one of the stars of my 1997 thread and now living alone in their former family home with no electricity and fucking himself up on highly addictive drugs. Me and Nick dent went around there the other day to pick up some of JP’s stuff but he wasn’t entertaining letting us in. ‘Call and arrange a time to come round’, he said. ‘Can I have your number’, I said. ‘No’, he replied. ND and I ensconced ourselves in the Two Brewer’s while we rang Aurelia, who had his number. When we rang it he didn’t answer so we left a message. So far no reply. What a palaver!

At the Fountain JP mentioned that she and her daughter Jade, who now lives with her, were thinking of having a housewarming party and would we do the rig and provide the DJ’s. Of course I said yes. That’s going to happen this weekend.

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