A review! Something else to fill the ether with…

I tried out the comedy club at the ARC in Stockton last night, accompanied by some friends and wife and I must admit to being surprised.

I was happily surprised by the acts. Seymour Mace (Lately basking in the considerable reflected glow of Johnny Vegas) was great. Quite disturbing in parts, I think he would make an excellent rapist/stalker (see the act, you’ll understand) if he hasn’t already done so, and it’s hard to believe this man didn’t back Gladys Knight with his display of deft dance floor moves. But for me the undoubted star of the evening was the MC Jason Cook.

Now I’m usually a grumpy bugger about comedy and those who make me truly laugh are rare comic geniuses (Eric Morcambe, Andy Hamilton, Bill Bailey, Ade Edmonson) but JC was great, suitably obscene for my tastes, courageous with his admission of women’s underwear wearing (which he then went on to prove, good man) and relentless with his delivery, especially when it came to hecklers – which leads me to my second surprise.

Now I’m a somewhat of a pessimist about our species. The average Joe Public (obviously not you, kind discerning reader) is illiterate, uninformed, uncouth scum. But it eludes me as to why someone would pay for the pleasure of sitting in a comedy gig, shout out unfunny – and at times unintelligible – drivel in order to try and spoil the show for everyone else when they know what’s going to happen? Now don’t get me wrong. A good heckle can make a show. But for the Boro troglodytes who manage to knuckle their way down the A66 for the evening, do me a favour next time and stick to your usual white lightning fuelled, puerile, drug addled, binge drinking night fighting amongst yourselves over whose biffer of a moose looked at who.

The rest of us can enjoy the comedy…

Top one Jason, see you next month.

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