Love, Poetry and Revolution - Thursday 20th April 2023

Let's start this post without banging on about work, instead, I must record the fact that it's a very sunny day and I'm off to the shops early to get milk and bread.

Walking in the sun is a good way to start the day and my expedition involves posting a birthday card to my big sister.  The local Morrisons is a hive of activity whilst I take a bit of time accidentally picking up chocolate and sour sweets.  Accidents will happen if you search long enough.

Q and I are off out tonight to see Sara Pascoe at the Liverpool Philharmonic, preceded by a meal at The Philharmonic Dining Rooms which is more or less diagonally opposite. It is officially a date night, so I'm putting on 'brainwaves' to brighten things up.

We both ended up having steak, mine accompanied by a glass of red wine as I wasn't driving (thank you Q) and, in my case at least, a full three-course meal.  As I'd previously declared I was lactose-intolerant, they wouldn't let me have the dessert I wanted (company policy etc) but actually had an enjoyable vegan caramel cheesecake instead.

We'd already picked up the tickets and so, bill paid (who he?), we headed for our seats.  Our seats were in a box which we shared with three others, near the front of the stage. Sara's set was very funny, including some wonderful anecdotes about encounters with famous people.  When she was introduced to one well-known person he said, ' I don't find comedy funny.'  Who said that, do you think?  I'll answer that question later.

I laughed a lot, and in the second half of the set (after the interval),  Q found her set especially funny.  The set was titled 'Success Story', but it was way more self-deprecating than the title suggests. Topics covered included Hugh Grant, dildo mouth Darren, IVF, Prince Harry (interesting theory), motherhood, growing up in the '90s, her dog (especially part of it, cf. Jeremy Clarkson), her husband, her mother, Michael Barrymore, her mother-in-law and much more.

As we all poured out of the theatre, we both said we'd had a great evening and I suggested we should go to some gigs, though Liverpool seems to play poor relation to Manchester when it comes to bands touring.  I took a look at the local gigs list online, and it seemed to suffer from the same problem that exists back home, that is the scourge of new music, namely tribute acts, for which there are few words.

Back home now and we're both tired and thus there is only one answer.

Talking of answers, who was that man who doesn't find comedy funny? It was none other than cheery cheeky chappy, Nigel Farage. It explains a lot.

The Fatima Mansions / 'Only Losers Take The Bus' / 'Against Nature'

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