Pricks.

There is only one thing worse than a comedian and that is an audience. Audiences are awful. OK, they pay money to see the show and some of that money goes to paying comedians but, really, if they would all just fuck off we'd be a lot happier. They come in and sit down and somehow just expect us to be funny or something without them making a fucking effort to be in any way entertaining themselves. And they're ugly. And whispering? Well, I don't know where they learned how to do that although, obviously, I've asked lots of times. And last night I performed in front of an audience that I hated. I turned up at Big Night Out in Leicester Square while the brilliant Simon Evans was still on and dealing with a bunch of fucking arses. I'll give you an example of their fat, bald, ugly ignorance; Simon: "I live with my wife and daughter in Brighton". Fat, Bald, Ugly Prick: "Yeah, I thought you might, you bender". Yes, this is how these people are celebrating the goodwill of Christmas. You know, by being cunts. Eventually Simon expertly got the remaining nice people of the audience on his side and asked the Fat, Bald, Ugly Pricks to leave. One of them did. The rest of the gig was polite (sort of) but a little bit quiet considering how incredibly funny Simon is. Then I went on. I was nervous because, let's face it, I'm nowhere near as good as Simon is. Not even close. But I had a great gig. It was great. Great in as much as the things I said got laughs and applause. So why didn't I enjoy it? Well, I thought the audience were a bunch of dicks (most of them anyway) and if they liked me then I must be a dick too. It's a horrible feeling knowing that you're just as stupid and pointless as those thick fuckers. After the gig a man came up to me to tell me how much he liked my act. I thanked him and he responded with "Better than the first one anyway". Like fuck I am, you fucking idiot. That's how fucking simple these mindless morons were. They liked me and I'm not half as good as Simon Evans. Greg Burns was .. me. They must have treated him as a God. Fucking audiences. Just avoid them. And if you're thinking of becoming an audience member can I just ask you to kindly reconsider? You're not needed, thank you.

Big Night Out is an excellent gig, by the way. Even Jeremy O'Donnell, the booker and compere, wasn't exactly mad keen on his audience but that's what happens. Especially this time of year. I also had a gig at the Funny Side of Covent Garden that was fun and I decided to round the night off with a trip to Spank at The Albany, Great Portland Street. I'm not a fan of comedy, as you know, but I do like seeing a man getting his cock out on stage so Spank is the place for me. It was a fun night, really. When I got there Eddie Izzard was on! Not the actual comedian but his act was there. Plus there was sketches, character comedy and a cake eating competition. It was good to see that Spank had their fair share of pricks in the audience too. People shouting out or just drunkenly making noises. To be fair, I did a bit of the shouting out myself proving even more that I am a dick like my BNO audience. As a burnt-out husk of a comedian, it was all a bit much but I couldn't be all grumpy about it because there were lots of new acts there and everything about being at a gig excited them. One of them, Dave Gorman, has only done about 15 gigs and the beaming grin and wide-eyed enthusiasm he displayed just hanging out at the Spank post-show disco was very inspiring. I hope he sticks with it. I hope he's not one of those fly-by-nights who just do it for a couple of years, wins an award and then fucks off to telly and book deals like some other cunts. I really don't know why I'm complaining today, other than the fact that I like complaining. I had a good night and I got a bit drunk with some nice friends. That's nice, isn't it? OK, it would have been better without an audience. Remember the old adage; There are no bad gigs, only bad audiences.

Yeah. A nice night. I'm nursing a tiny hangover that I feel I earned. I'm in my pants drinking tea and eating Hob-Nobs while listening to some great music. And, for the first time in a month, I am in my house on my own. Bliss.