If you’re in or around the ancient city of Londinium, you might like to know that I co-run an excellent monthly gig there called Glitter & Doom. It’s an experimental night where comedians perform their jokes and stories to a live musical score, written and performed by Sam Astley & Charlie Pyne.
The next gig is tomorrow night (Wednesday 2nd February) and features the awesome Nick Sun, the surreal Gerry Howell and the wonderful Julia Clark. If you’re free, you should come along. Here are the details:
GLITTER & DOOM #5
Wednesday 2nd Feb, 8pm
@ Betsey Trotwood,
56 Farringdon Road,
London EC1R 3BL
Tickets are £5 via WeGotTickets.
If you’re not in London, then coming along to the night would be a massive pain in the arse, so lucky-for-you our good friend Steve Cross (who runs the excellent Bright Club), records the gigs so that we can turn them into podcasts.
I’m currently in Melbourne for the comedy festival & it seems to have become infested with moustaches; either that or thousands of hairy caterpillars have gone out in search of food, but instead found themselves resting on the cocaine-dusted upper lips of trendy gents.
I’m not sure how it happened or why it happened, but I do know that it’s got to stop immediately or women are going to stop voluntarily having sex with men.
The moustache has never been our finest invention; that’s an accolade which belongs to the splade (or “spork” if you’re form South Australia). In fact the womb-broom (aka moustache) represents an aspect of humanity, which, like the desire to pay money to see Michael Bolton in concert, should be eradicated before it spreads.
The problem with moustaches is that one their own, they’re incredibly potent (Exhibit A: Tom Selleck), but when diluted by thousands of men in $200 jeans, the power of the mo’ is to weakened to the point where it’s not even useful as a marker for identifying society’s misfits.
There is also the fact that the moustache (sans beard anyway) is very difficult to wear successfully. Moustaches are like racist jokes; unless they’re deployed with a supreme amount of irony, they’re just offensive.
I think that the required action should be led by the women of Melbourne who should refuse any kind of sexual contact with men sporting unnecessary facial hair. Sure, we might lose some beards alone the way, but if that’s the price of eradicating the moustache (or at least culling it down to pre-boom numbers) then so be it.
In fact, let’s just say that there should be a bounty on all moustaches. I’m not sure what you call the act of skinning a moustache off some twat in a flannel shirt, but until we can get this hirsute epidemic under control, then no act is too barbarous.
– Hypocrisy Valentine