Oct 232012
 

Yesterday was the first time in far too long that I went to the theatre. It was also utterly convincing that I should go more often – what an utterly brilliant way to reintroduce myself to “cultcha”.

Having been introduced to Fascinating Aïda some six months ago or so, I was naturally already enamoured of them. If you’re not yet au fait, I highly recommend you familiarise yourself with them. Nonetheless, I had never seen them live.

Led by the utterly magnificent Dillie Keane, whose near 30 years at the helm don’t show at all, drives the troupe and the audience as one with a force and exuberance which belie her age, and shows how very “down with the kids” she actually is, throughout the 2 hours or so of the performance. Given her age, oeuvre and style, it is perhaps an unavoidable comparison, but her style is highly reminiscent of Victoria Wood. A woman of a certain age, sitting at a piano, singing satirically? Yeah, that’s Victoria Wood. Add in a wonderfully broad, rich vocabulary and a wonderful assumption that her audience will follow and understand what’s being said (rather than dumbing down and speaking to the lowest common denominator, as is so often the case) and the comparison becomes more cemented.

Yet, this is *not* Victoria Wood, rather a completely different experience. Dillie Keane is utterly and unapologetically Dillie Keane, and nobody else could be her. Her linguistic and pianistic dexterity are of an ilk with the marvellous Tim Minchin, and the subtle world-weariness and cynicism are completely in keeping with his work; however, whereas Minchin has a definite agenda, and message to impart (which is not in an wise a bad thing!), Keane is more sardonically observing and commenting, pointing out the insanity and hilarity of existence, touching briefly on its pointlessness though never sinking to depressiveness. Further to this, the content is updated and added to regularly, with portions of the “Bulgarian Folk Songs” last night referring to both the Lance Armstrong fiasco and George Osborne’s encounter with the proles on the train! Wonderful!

Adèle Anderson, the second longest serving (is it a sentence?) member of the group, adds a wonderful counterpoint to Keane’s slightly more polished persona and performance; vocally not the strongest performer, there is yet something wonderfully engaging about the gravelly, harsher aspects to her singing.

The “rotating” member of the troupe, currently Liza (with a ‘zee’) Pulman, complements the two older ladies, with both a youthful exuberance and a truly wondrous soprano voice; were she to star on the stages of the West End, she would seem not one jot out of place. As with Keane, Pulman’s upper class voice, decorous deportment, and slight priggishness (presumably accentuated for the purposes of the persona) contrast deliciously with the sheer filth of the humour of many of the songs (I’m thinking of YOU, Dogging!) adding to the almost guilty-secret of laughing at some of the content.

Were the show to consist solely of satire, that alone would be a joy; yet two of the songs were not at all satirical, rather absolutely touching and moving songs. “Goodbye Old Friends” had genuine tears in my eyes, and I think you’d be hard pressed to find a more genuine song anywhere.

The group will be touring again next year, for their 30th anniversary, and if you can’t see them before, see them then. Utter joy!

 

Autographed CD cover

 

Aug 152007
 

There once was a minister in a small French town. He had always been a good man and lived by the Bible. One day God decided to reward him, with the answer to any three questions that he would like to ask.

The minister did not need much time to consider, and the first question was: “Will there ever be married Catholic priests?”

God promptly replied: “No, not in your life-time.”

The minister thought for a while, and then came up with the second question: “what about female Bishops then, will we have that one day?”

For a second time, God had to disappoint him: “Again, not in your life-time, I’m afraid.”

The minister looked disappointed and pondered long and hard before speaking again. After having thought for a while, he asked his last question: “Will there ever be another French pope?”

God answered quickly: “Not in my fucking life-time.”

Dec 082006
 

Commenting on a complaint from a Mr. Arthur Purdey about a large gas bill, a spokesman for North West Gas said, “We agree it was rather high for the time of year. It’s possible Mr. Purdey has been charged for the gas used up during the explosion that destroyed his house.” (The Daily Telegraph)

Police reveal that a woman arrested for shoplifting had a whole salami in her underwear. When asked why, she said it was because she was missing her Italian boyfriend. (The Manchester Evening News)

Irish police are being handicapped in a search for a stolen van, because they cannot issue a description. It’s a Special Branch vehicle and they don’t want the public to know what it looks like. (The Guardian)

A young girl who was blown out to sea on a set of inflatable teeth was rescued by a man on an inflatable lobster. A coast guard spokesman commented, “This sort of thing is all too common”. (The Times)

At the height of the gale, the harbourmaster radioed a coastguard and asked him to estimate the wind speed. He replied he was sorry, but he didn’t have a gauge. However, if it was any help, the wind had just blown his Land Rover off the cliff. (Aberdeen Evening Express)

Mrs. Irene Graham of Thorpe Avenue, Boscombe, delighted the audience with her reminiscence of the German prisoner of war who was sent each week to do her garden. He was repatriated at the end of 1945, she recalled. “He’d always seemed a nice friendly chap, but when the crocuses came up in the middle of our lawn in February 1946, they spelt out ‘Heil Hitler.’” (Bournemouth Evening Echo)

Dec 052006
 

On the first day of Christmas,
My true gave to me,
A burning sensation when I pee.

On the second day of Christmas,
My true love gave to me
Non-specific urethritis, and
a burning sensation when I pee.

On the third day of Christmas,
My true love gave to me,
Love without a glove,
Non-specific urethritis, and
a burning sensation when I pee.

On the fourth day of Christmas,
My true love gave to me,
Four days of meds,
Love without a glove,
Non-specific urethritis, and
a burning sensation when I pee.

On the fifth day of Christmas,
My true love gave to me,
A swo-oooo-llen ring,
Four days of meds,
Love without a glove,
Non-specific urethritis, and
a burning sensation when I pee.

On the sixth day of Christmas,
My true love gave to me,
Six rent-boys a-laying,
A swo-oooo-llen ring,
Four days of meds,
Love without a glove,
Non-specific urethritis, and
a burning sensation when I pee.

On the seventh day of Christmas,
My true love gave to me,
Seven slags a-rimming,
Six rent-boys a-laying,
A swo-oooo-llen ring,
Four days of meds,
Love without a glove,
Non-specific urethritis, and
a burning sensation when I pee.

On the eighth day of Christmas,
My true love gave to me,
Eight suppositries in-sinking,
Seven slags a-rimming,
Six rent-boys a-laying,
A swo-oooo-llen ring,
Four days of meds,
Love without a glove,
Non-specific urethritis, and
a burning sensation when I pee.

On the ninth day of Christmas,
My true love gave to me,
Nine drag queens mincing,
Eight suppositries in-sinking,
Seven slags a-rimming,
Six rent-boys a-laying,
A swo-oooo-llen ring,
Four days of meds,
Love without a glove,
Non-specific urethritis, and
a burning sensation when I pee.

On the tenth day of Christmas,
My true love gave to me,
Ten cocks a-leacking,
Nine drag queens mincing,
Eight suppositries in-sinking,
Seven slags a-rimming,
Six rent-boys a-laying,
A swo-oooo-llen ring,
Four days of meds,
Love without a glove,
Non-specific urethritis, and
a burning sensation when I pee.

On the eleventh day of Christmas,
My true love gave to me,
“onze pipeurs en faisant la pipe”
Ten cocks a-leacking,
Nine drag queens mincing,
Eight suppositries in-sinking,
Seven slags a-rimming,
Six rent-boys a-laying,
A swo-oooo-llen ring,
Four days of meds,
Love without a glove,
Non-specific urethritis, and
a burning sensation when I pee.

On the twelfth day of Christmas,
My true love gave to me,
Twelve bummers bumming,
“onze pipeurs en faisant la pipe”
Ten cocks a-leacking,
Nine drag queens mincing,
Eight suppositries in-sinking,
Seven slags a-rimming,
Six rent-boys a-laying,
A swo-oooo-llen ring,
Four days of meds,
Love without a glove,
Non-specific urethritis, and
a burning sensation when I pee.

Dec 042006
 

Away in a bath house, three dicks in a bed,
The Spanish kid, Jésus, gave amazing head,
The pervs in the dark room, looked down where we lay,
As I fucked two bi guys, two of whom were gay!

The faggots are blowing, as they cum, they shake,
But litte fag Jésus, no crying he makes,
I gag you, dear Jésus, those tears in your eye,
Tell me that you love it, though you’re completely high!

Be near me, oh Jésus, you’ve no choice but to stay,
Tied up near me, all night long, and blow me – I say!
Bless all the huge cock heads, in your tender rear,
You’ll take them to heaven, then scream – “fuck me, dear!”

Original lyrics:

Away In A Manger

Away in a manger, no crib for a bed,
the little Lord Jesus laid down his sweet head,
The stars in the bright sky looked down where he lay,
the little Lord Jesus asleep on the hay.

The cattle are lowing, the baby awakes,
but little Lord Jesus no crying he makes.
I love you, Lord Jesus; look down from the sky,
and stay by my side until morning is nigh.

Be near me, Lord Jesus, I ask you to stay
close by me forever, and love me, I pray.
Bless all the dear children in your tender care,
and take us to heaven, to live with you there.

Dec 012005
 

Ok, I don’t actually know this carol, but it was the next one I came across, and it was just crying out to be “renovated”. The original lyrics follow my adaptation! It’s called “Gentle Mary Laid Her Child” … I mean, I ask you ….

“Gentle Mary, laid a child,
raped his arse – what danger!
There he lay, SO defiled,
Buggered by a stranger,

Such a babe in such a place,
I ask you now, who’ll save ya’?
Three wise men came, across his face,
Bukkake is in favour!”

Original lyrics:

[Joseph S. Cook, 1919]

“Gentle Mary laid her Child
Lowly in a manger.
There He lay, the Undefiled,
To the world a stranger.
Such a Babe in such a place,
Can He be the Savior?
Ask the saved of all the race
Who have found His favor.

Nov 022005
 

Now that Vancouver has won the 2010 Winter Olympics, these are some questions that people the world over are asking. These questions about Canada were REALLY posted on an International Tourism Website! For my Canadian friends and those who can appreciate this…Enjoy!

Q: I have never seen it warm on Canadian TV, so how do the plants grow? (UK)
A: We import all plants fully grown and then just sit around and watch them die.

Q: Will I be able to see Polar Bears in the street? (USA)
A: Depends on how much you’ve been drinking.

Q: I want to walk from Vancouver to Toronto – can I follow the railroad tracks? (Sweden)
A: Sure, it’s only four thousand miles; take lots of water.

Q: Is it safe to run around in the bushes in Canada? (Sweden)
A: So it’s true what they say about Swedes.

Q: Are there any ATMs in Canada? Can you send me list of them in Toronto, Vancouver, Edmonton & Halifax? (UK)
A: What did your last slave die of?

Q: Can you give me some information about hippo racing in Canada? (USA)
A: A-fri-ca is the big triangle shaped continent south of Europe. Ca-na-da is that big country to your north. Oh, forget it. Sure, the hippo racing is every Tuesday night in Calgary. Come naked.

Q: Which direction is north in Canada? (USA)
A: Face south and then turn 180 degrees. Contact us when you get here and we’ll send the rest of the directions.

Q: Can you send me the Vienna Boys’ Choir schedule? (USA)
A: Aus-tri-a is that quaint little country bordering Ger-man-y, which is … Oh, forget it. Sure, the Vienna Boys’ Choir plays every Tuesday night in Calgary, just after the hippo races. Come naked.

Q: Do you have perfume in Canada? (Germany)
A: No, we don’t stink.

Q: I have developed a new product that is the fountain of youth. Can you tell me where I can sell it in Canada? (USA)
A: Anywhere significant numbers of Americans gather.

Q: Can you tell me the regions in British Columbia where the female population is smaller than the male population? (Italy)
A: Yes, gay nightclubs.

Q: Do you celebrate Thanksgiving in Canada? (USA)
A: Only at Thanksgiving.

Q: Are there supermarkets in Toronto and is milk available all year round? (Germany)
A: No, we are a peaceful civilization of Vegan hunter/gatherers. Milk is illegal.

Q: I have a question about a famous animal in Canada, but I forget its name. It’s a kind of big horse with horns. (USA)
A: It’s called a moose. They are tall and very violent, eating the brains of anyone walking close to them. You can scare them off by spraying yourself with human urine before you go out walking.

Q: I was in Canada in 1969 on R & R and I want to contact the girl I dated while I was staying in Surrey, B.C. Can you help? (USA)
A: Yes, and you will still have to pay her by the hour.

Q: Will I be able to speak English most places I go? (USA)
A: Yes, but you will have to learn it first.

Aug 302005
 

You Know You’re From London When …

You say “the city” and expect everyone to know which one.

You have never been to The Tower or Madame Tussauds but love Brighton.

You can get into a four-hour argument about how to get from Shepherds Bush to Elephant & Castle at 3:30 on the Friday before a long weekend, but can’t find Dorset on a map.

Hookers and the homeless are invisible.

You step over people who collapse on the tube.

You believe that being able to swear at people in their own language makes you multi-lingual.

You’ve considered stabbing someone.

Your door has more than three locks.

Your favourite movie has Hugh Grant in it.

You consider eye contact an act of overt aggression.

You call an 8′ x 10′ plot of patchy grass a garden.

You know where Karl Marx is buried.

You consider Essex the “countryside”

You think Hyde Park is “nature.”

You’re paying £1,200 a month for a studio the size of a walk-in wardrobe and you think it’s a “bargain.”

Shopping in suburban supermarkets and shopping malls gives you a severe attack of agoraphobia.

You’ve been to Tooting twice and got hopelessly lost both times.

You pay more each month to park your car than most people in the UK pay in rent.

You haven’t seen more than twelve stars in the night sky since you went camping as a kid.

You own hiking boots and a 4WD vehicle, neither of which have ever touched dirt.

You haven’t heard the sound of true absolute silence since 1977, and when you did, it terrified you.

You pay £3 without blinking for a beer that cost the bar 28p.

You actually take fashion seriously.

Being truly alone makes you nervous.

You have 27 different menus next to your telephone.

The UK west of Heathrow is still theoretical to you.

You’re suspicious of strangers who are actually nice to you.

You haven’t cooked a meal since helping mum last Christmas with the turkey.

Your idea of personal space is no one actually standing on your toes.

£50 worth of groceries fit in one paper bag.

You have a minimum of five “worst cab ride ever” stories.

You don’t hear sirens anymore.

You’ve mentally blocked out all thoughts of the city’s air quality and what it’s doing to your lungs.

You live in a building with a larger population than most towns.

Your cleaner is Russian, your grocer is Korean, your deli man is Israeli, your landlord is Italian, your laundry guy is Chinese, your favourite bartender is Irish, your favourite diner owner is Greek, the watch-seller on your corner is Senegalese, your last cabbie was Pakistani, your newsagent is Indian and your favourite falafel guy is Egyptian.

You wouldn’t want to live anywhere else until you get married.

You say ‘mate’ constantly

Anyone not from London is a ‘wanker’

Anyone from outside London and north of the Watford Gap is a ‘Northern Wanker’

You have no idea where the North is.

You see All Saints in the Met Bar (again) and find it hard to get excited about it.

The countryside makes you nervous

Somebody speaks to you on the tube and you freak out thinking they are a stalker.

You talk in postcodes. “God, it was really warm round SW1 the other day”

You actually get these jokes and pass them on to other friends from London.

You Know You’re From Toronto When…

A really great parking spot can move you to tears.

You can recommend about 3 good body piercing parlours.

You make well over $100,000 and you still can’t find a nice place to live.

You realize there are far more rainbow flags in the city than Canadian Flags.

When the temperature rises above zero degrees, you yell “Woohooo! Patio weather!”

You enjoy watching channel 47 multicultural TV

You’re guaranteed to know at least one person on every episode of Speaker’s Corner.

You haven’t been to the CN Tower since you were six, but still have nightmares about that damn turbo elevator.

You’ve had at least 3 bicycles stolen in the past 10 years.

You’ve partied with at least one of the members of The Kids in the Hall

You’ve fantasized about having sex in Casa Loma

At least 3 of your friends have moved to Vancouver

You turn your nose up at any establishment frequented by the S&M crowd. (Scarborough and Mississauga)

You never, never, never swim in the lake

You know “The Beaches” are really called “The Beach”, but still say “The Beaches” just to annoy all the nitwits who live there

You ever had a birthday party at the Organ Grinder or The Mad Hatter

You can say “world’s tallest freestanding structure” ten times fast

You know the correct answer to “Where do shopping carts go to die?” is “The Don River”

You speak better Chinese than French

The word “cabbagetown” doesn’t strike you as particularily amusing

Castle Frank subway station remains one of the great mysteries of the universe for you.

You know what the bathrooms in the First Canadian Place are REALLY for

You don’t know where Fort York is, but have a vague recollection of being there in a past life

You know the Demic’s song “I Wanna Go To New York City” was intended as sarcasm, not a weekend getaway suggestion

You know where to find Dim Sum, Sushi, Curry, Pad Thai and a dildo at 3 am on a weeknight

For the last time, it’s pronounced ‘TRONNA’!

You consider eye contact a sign of hostility and an invasion of your privacy.

It takes you half an hour to get to work by TTC and you are the envy of all your friends.

You mourned the death of the Spadina Bus.

You know someone who went to high school with at least one member of The Barenaked Ladies or RUSH

You laugh heartily at people who refer to highway four hundred and one.

You’ve taken the vomit comit.

You can manuver your bike across Queen st. without getting caught in the streetcar tracks.

You know the difference between souvlaki, moussaka and spanakopita.

You can name at least three locations of The Beer Store that are open till 11 PM.

You have NEVER been to the Hard Rock Cafe

You actually get these jokes and pass them on to other friends from Toronto.