THIS MONTH we’ll be gestating in a pretentiously decorated dumpster full of shite in Stockbridge so that we can visit the Fringe everyday, to bring you the latest and most pungent in what may or may not be happening in places that definitely exist.
Comedy isn’t really my forte so I’ve taken on a new intern calling himself ‘Bill Lynnott’. He’s really on the ball. Here’s a transcript of our interview;
PRINCE – I don’t really know comedy as such. Do you?
LYNNOT – Listen. Nobody in this city is funny. Nor has anybody funny ever been here.
PRINCE – Wow. If it wasn’t for the half empty bottle of Turps in your hand i’d say you were a very discerning individual.
LYNNOT – Do you think your funny?
PRINCE – You’re hired.
So I hope you enjoy Bill’s succinctities. I’m off to become a philandering coke fiend and spend the month searching desperately for the one person who gives a solitary fuck about how much of a sin it is that PAUL DANIELS has been completely overlooked till now. ‘Hair today, gone tomoz!’ the octo-generic pansexual screams as 13 inch thick merkin levitates to the heavens. Now that, is comedy.
– Desmond Prince