We wer not amused.


The first of my visits to an Einburgh Comedy show was a dreadful dreadful disaster.   The poster had potential.   A possible mix of Faulty Towers and ‘Allo ‘Allo!’.   It was a typical Festival venue, an upstairs largish room in a pure Edinburgh pub with panelled walls plastered with festival flyers.  There was a group downstairs belting out Beatles numbers and a very good crowd for the comedy.  But Paco was bloody awful.  And awkward.  The laughs, when they came, which was not too often, were more out of politeness than engagement with the material.  You could sense a slight restlessness with the audience as they began to realise this was not going to get much better.   Sure there was lots of swearing.   It’s de-rigor for Edinburgh these days.   We chattering classes come up here to hear language we would never use in ordinary conversation, listen to smut and innuendo we would positively disapprove of if used in the workplace.  And this German was as infused with English Anglo Saxon swear words as anyone else performing up here.   So when his joke about Englishmen on holiday in Spain transforming themselves from pin stripped gentlemen to what he called “super cunts” then the super cunts had to be shouted extremely loudly.  “SUPER CUNTS” Apparently that makes you laugh.

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