SECRET ORIGINS
Okay, so why a comedy night?
Well, firstly, we like comedy. My witless catamite, Mr X, has been a longtime fan of stand-up since he was exiled to Australia in the 90s (and forced to watch early Billy Conolly videos until he understood what the Big Yin was actually saying).
Plus Canterbury doesn't exactly have a thriving comedy community... which is odd considering it's got two well-established theatres and a stonking great cathedral with which to tempt the punters. Audiences turn out in big numbers for the national tours of people like Bill Bailey or Jack Dee, but nobody seems to be able to maintain a decent, local show featuring fresh talent doing the sort of 5 - 25 minute spots they'd be expected to perform on the London circuit.
It seems that every year or so, a monthly comedy event starts, farts around for a few months, and then skulks off into the shadows to join defunct square-dancing classes and Yorkshire Ska theme nights. Even when these nights are running, they never seem to book the bestest acts that are available (that is, the ones Mr X wants to see), and only put on two or three comics at a time.
There was nowhere for local comics to get an open mike spot, nowhere an audience could find a proper spit and sawdust comedy shindig, nowhere it didn't cost at least £12 to see some git from a panel show on one of Sky Television's graveyard channels at 3am on a Tuesday...
Bugger that.
My vassal grew tired of this state of affairs - and having to commute to London every week to get a decent gig - and prayed unto me, the Sinister Fairy, that I might bestow my favours upon him.
I ignored him, 'coz he's a twat.
However, his friends suggested - with the help of sharp pieces of broken wood - that he create his own Comedy night, and invite only the finest circuit comedians to the lowly backwater he calls home.
And so CHEEKY/SINISTER was born.
So far, we've got some kick-ass talent down, and at the bargain price of £3 per entry - needless to say, Mr X is much poorer than when he started this mad indulgence... yet strangely fulfilled.
That said, he's still a twat.
Spaff my goodwill, paeans.
Well, firstly, we like comedy. My witless catamite, Mr X, has been a longtime fan of stand-up since he was exiled to Australia in the 90s (and forced to watch early Billy Conolly videos until he understood what the Big Yin was actually saying).
Plus Canterbury doesn't exactly have a thriving comedy community... which is odd considering it's got two well-established theatres and a stonking great cathedral with which to tempt the punters. Audiences turn out in big numbers for the national tours of people like Bill Bailey or Jack Dee, but nobody seems to be able to maintain a decent, local show featuring fresh talent doing the sort of 5 - 25 minute spots they'd be expected to perform on the London circuit.
It seems that every year or so, a monthly comedy event starts, farts around for a few months, and then skulks off into the shadows to join defunct square-dancing classes and Yorkshire Ska theme nights. Even when these nights are running, they never seem to book the bestest acts that are available (that is, the ones Mr X wants to see), and only put on two or three comics at a time.
There was nowhere for local comics to get an open mike spot, nowhere an audience could find a proper spit and sawdust comedy shindig, nowhere it didn't cost at least £12 to see some git from a panel show on one of Sky Television's graveyard channels at 3am on a Tuesday...
Bugger that.
My vassal grew tired of this state of affairs - and having to commute to London every week to get a decent gig - and prayed unto me, the Sinister Fairy, that I might bestow my favours upon him.
I ignored him, 'coz he's a twat.
However, his friends suggested - with the help of sharp pieces of broken wood - that he create his own Comedy night, and invite only the finest circuit comedians to the lowly backwater he calls home.
And so CHEEKY/SINISTER was born.
So far, we've got some kick-ass talent down, and at the bargain price of £3 per entry - needless to say, Mr X is much poorer than when he started this mad indulgence... yet strangely fulfilled.
That said, he's still a twat.
Spaff my goodwill, paeans.
posted by The Sinister Fairy at 6:07 PM
1 Comments:
Spaff eternal!
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