Ed Fringe: Furry Thursday

Ed Fringe: Furry Thursday

There are things at the Fringe that’ll only happen at the Fringe, like seeing a piece described as ‘cabaret/clown’ in the basement of a Chiquito… Welcome to Every Loser Wins: with Kelly Wenham and Simon Salmon. It’s was just super silly. Two people aiming for laughs with brilliant bad jokes. The four of us were smiling all the way through, that’s right, four. You didn’t notice though, it was the smallest crowd I had been a part of but one of the most enjoyable to be a part of. Belly laughs were a plenty.

 

The next gentleman we’d seen in Southend and feel in love with. I think I can say that for both of us; there was certainly a lot of man-crush vibes coming from Thom. James Acaster is a comedian and a genius. I don’t know of many comedians that could pull of a magnifying glass as a punchline and out loophole Torvill and Dean. I did notice something missing from his preview in Essex like attempting to list the ingredients and flavours of Dr Pepper. This may not sound like a coherent show but Acaster strings it all together in the beautiful tale of pure cop-ing. He is a true rising star.

 

Coming in second, after Michael Legge and Robin Ince Are Pointless Anger, Righteous Ire 3: Ooh Stick You, Your Mama Too … and Your Daddy’s twenty word title with seventeen is ‘Adrienne Truscott’s Asking For It: A One-Lady Rape About Comedy Starring Her Pussy and Little Else!’ People throw the word rape around a little too much for my liking and people make jokes about it which I don’t like either. I forgive Adrienne Truscott for doing both! She is right, she preaches and converts non-believers.

 

Of course, there’s nothing funny about rape but what people say about rape is stupid and they should be laughed at. Ladies aren’t designed to be raped, don’t be so fucking ridiculous! Civilisation could have arisen without rape, don’t be so fucking ridiculous! Whistles won’t stop rapists, don’t be so fucking ridiculous! I’m sure you’re starting to get the idea of the evening. On this particular Thursday evening, Truscott had attracted quite the crowd. They seem to have read “starring her pussy and little else”. Loud, brash boys with beers in their hand and a glint in their eyes, they were eager to see the ‘star’ of the show and even cheeked a photo. Their camera was taken away. I did wonder if they were here for the right reasons, and yet, they were the people that should be seeing it. Lads that see no wrong in the rape culture that surround them, that need an education, but I am making snap judgements. I’ll admit, I had the odd glance at her pussy but I was far more fascinated by what she had to say. I wanted to cheer every sentence that came out of her mouth, remember it word for word and shout them back to ignorant pricks followed by a “take that, you cunts!”   

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