Hello blog buddies, how is everyone this Friday? Its another cold & wet day here in Ireland.
On Wednesday night I was in Galway, doing some work on The Lid, a new Irish Arts Magazine that a friend and I have started. More news on that to follow. Seeing as we were in Galway and had nothing to do, Ciara & I decided to check out some comedy at the Roisin Dubh, one of the most laid back venues in Galway.
Phill Jupitus was headlining, with new material fresh from his Edinburgh show. Phil mostly DJs now, and does the odd bit of Who Line Is It Anyways style improve, but the show was straight up stand up. And it was terrible! He seemed to have no passion at all for what he was doing, or the audience for that matter. He seemed drunk, or high, or possibly both. It was just a long drawn out 40 minutes of shouting, jokes about his daughters virginity, and him generally being obnoxious and listing out all the things he doesn't like.
Support on the night came from the equally terrible Gerry Mallon, who admittedly was trying out new material, or so he said he was. We suspected that this was a meer excuse for his boring, and frankly depressing routine. Which was predominately taken up by talk of his ex-wife and divorce. Suddenly what was meant to be a night of comedy turn a horrible turn into self pity and what seemed like a therapy session.
The MC for the night was Ian Coppinger, who started off okay, warming up the audience with the usual audience interrogation, where are you from, what do you do in college. It was all going well until he made an ill judged and unfunny joke about Dublin's Front Lounge gay bar, which he suggested should be renamed The Back Door. This was met with complete silent from the audience. It was an awkward moment, and he never really got the audience back after that comment, which surprised me, I thought there would be a few fools in the audience that would appreciate a dumb gay joke, but to my pleasant surprise, no one thought it was funny. A progressive Ireland? Maybe. I think it had more to do with the fact that it was just a lame joke. Who can say?
The highlight of the night came in the form of a Hot Chicken Roll. Halfway through Phill's rantings, all I could focus on was how numb my arse had gotten from the uncomfortable bar stools, and how hungry I was. I spent the next 20 minutes fantasising about how a Hot Chicken Roll from Centra would be a million times better than this comedy... so as soon as Phill slurred "Galway, thanks for hav..." I grabbed my coat in one had, Ciara in the other, and we bolted for the nearest deli!
Maybe myself & Ciara just too sober for the show (Alcohol is a very important part of stand-up) or maybe the three performers were just having a bad night. Or maybe, they really are just crap, and I wasted €12.50. I could have brought 3 more Hot Chicken Rolls and a Freddo bar for that. Sigh.
DRN
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