Jun 10 2008
Still Laughing After All These Beers
We certainly didn’t get up at the crack of dawn last Sunday morning. We were only getting to bed as the sun rose. However, we didn’t waste our day sleeping and by 11.30am everyone was up and at ’em ready for day two of our Kilkenny Cat Laughs adventure.
Raucous Irish Raiders Run Rings Round Rest of World
Anthony and I surreptitiously made our way to The Field for breakfast/lunch while the others made a number of trips back and forth between Kilkenny and Graig. We had a lovely meal (mmm lasagne) before heading towards Fairgreen Football Pitch to watch a bunch of comedians run around in shorts, hungover, dehydrated and horribly unfit. To be fair, they were surprisingly good (but what would I know – the last time I ran around a football pitch I lasted three minutes and nearly died of a heart attack). The teams were Ireland versus ‘Rest of The World’ and most of them were taking it very seriously. At one stage I thought Des Bishop was going to throttle his own teammate for not trying hard enough. Jason Byrne, Tommy Tiernan, Neil Delamere, David O’Doherty, Des Bishop and Andy Parsons were among the many who turned out to play. Karl Spain was the commentator for the afternoon.
Despite a number of opportunities to take the lead, the Rest of World team finally succumbed to the might of the Hibernocomic’s footballing prowess.
Post match, we returned to The Field for a couple of pints before our first gig of the evening.
Blood on the Stagefloor
In the Kilkenny Ormond, MC Josh Thomas, interviewed here, acts in a very self-effacing and shy manner while delivering a brilliant but too short comic set. He was charged with introducing each act which began with Damian Clark who’s observational comedy styling was extremely funny. Although towards the end of his act, he seemed to waver slightly as much of the audience seemed to wonder where he was taking one particular routine. He shocked us all by performing the punchline to music and it was all worth the build up. Perfect comic timing.
Josh went on to introduce a comedian I have enjoyed watching on television for years, Andy Parsons. The bastard!! Now, admittedly, wearing a hat, waistcoat and tie to a comedy gig and then sitting in the middle of the second row behind two fourteen year olds is, in retrospect, a really stupid idea. Parson zoned in on me and made me his comedy punching bag for his entire set. Truthfully though, he was extremely funny and had me crying with laughter by the end. It was all in good fun and his final line finishing on me was comedy gold.
Jason Byrne, the big pull of the night, stood up on stage an instead focused on the two teens in front of me. Listening to Andy Parsons from the back of the room, Byrne had assumed that when he talked about the ‘kids’ in the front row he meant they were two adults who looked young. He was genuinely shocked to see two fourteen year olds in front of him. Jason Byrne was without a doubt the best thing about the weekend – he tread the line between crude and funny with perfect ease, as he ‘educated’ the two boys on why they should avoid women and stick to masturbation. The man worked so hard and was pumped with so much energy that he gave himself a nosebleed on stage. Rather than stop, he continued brilliantly though with an audience member’s tissue stuck up his nose. Anthony got a great shot on his phone:
Hitting the Rivercourt once again, I discovered a real taste for Smithwicks (sponsors of the Festival) and while there were free pints up in the Kilkenny Ormond, I was content to pay for them in the Rivercourt (I guess advertising works). On a weekend where everyone seemed so relaxed, visitors and locals alike, there was one barman in the Rivercourt who really annoyed me. He obviously didn’t want to anywhere near the place; he clearly hated people; it was very evident that he despised his job. When a woman asked for ice in her drink, he was furious with her and told her he didn’t have enough and she would have to do without. I had to intervene and tell him to cut the attitude at which point his manager heard me and pulled the barman aside. I sincerely hope he was on bottle-washing duty for the remainder of the night.
A Divine Comedy
Our final show was a collection of unknowns (well, unknown to me – many people seemed to know them quite well). A line-up of Kevin Gildea, John Henderson, Danny Bhoy and Mike Wilmot had me, at times, in convulsions of laughter.
I am aware that Lottie thought Danny Bhoy was particularly good looking, but he was extremely funny beyond his girlfriend-stealing handsomeness. Gildea struggled for most of his act but his ‘big finish’ utilising the back of pizza boxes was brilliant and he definitely redeemed himself with this routine. John Henderson, on the other hand, was quite forgettable and while I have no feelings of dislike for the man, I can’t say I liked his act either – he was quite unremarkable.
Wilmot is crude, loud, controversial and I couldn’t help but laugh despite myself. His seemingly bitter anger towards life was surprisingly funny and his use of the C word (the word I most revile in the English language – or any language for that matter) actually made me laugh. Damn you Wilmot for being so funny.
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