Feeling punny

In the run up to Christmas, everything gets really busy - the streets, the shops, work life, home life... But there's always time for romcoms - like the other weekend when I somehow watched four Hugh Grant films in a row. I don't even like Hugh Grant but it all started (naturally) with the hankering for Love Actually. Other things there always time for is burgers.

A couple of weeks ago, I had an idea of doing something different and grabbed tickets to The Pun Run, Britain's only pun-based comedy night. Before we strategically chose our seats (ie. nowhere near the front), we realised we needed some food. Fast. And so, we headed to every burger lovers fave, MeatLiquor, and managed to skip the queue.

Diving straight in to a Vedett (me) and a coke float (M), we opted for the Dead Hippie burger (brilliantly dirty, as always) and the XXXmas Dog which was some mountainous creation that looked dubious but tasted good, apparently? We also shared some monstrous onion rings - divine but devilishly difficult to finish - and called it good whilst trying not to drop anything on each other.

From there, we headed over to The Pun Run, grabbed a mulled wine (naturally) and managed to bag the comfy banquettes at the back that removed the innate audience member vs comedian fear. Apparently, 'a groan's as good as a laugh' and with eight comedians across two halves there was a hell of a lot of groaning, sighing and 'that was utterly ridiculous' - but that's part of the fun, right? Puns may not have the highest of comedic kudos but as one chap managed to successfully pull off a 'punny' set with European countries, you can't quite knock it just yet. In the interval, audience members were given the chance to tweet their best puns around the theme of New Year, with the winner earning a free drink. We tried and failed miserably compared to the winning, 'Last New Year I said I would buy a new camera and take lots of long distance photos. Turns out it didn't have the resolution...'

If you fancy your chances at pun-based world domination, the night's every six weeks and returns in the New Year. After some of the most ridiculous one-liners and the longest set up for a joke ever, we left vowing to leave it to the experts and headed over to Social Eating House where my first drink - aptly - was the Cereal Killer. If you can't beat them, join them, right?

Having a laugh

Comedy is one of the most subjective interests anyone can have, I think. It's all very well your friends declaring that Lee Evans is the best thing since sliced bread, or that the Gervais/Pilkington love-in is the pinnacle of humour but that doesn't mean that you're going to share their opinions. And I don't. Perhaps an unpopular opinion but I don't find the aforementioned comics, along with such favourites as Will Ferrell and Jonah Hill, funny. Call me boring, call me whatever you like but the most they'll raise out of me is a smirk or my eyebrows.

That's not to say I don't like comedy. I love it. I love sitcoms, sketch shows, some panels, live tours and stand up nights and would love to go the Edinburgh Fringe. You'll find me in tears at a lot of observational comedy and dry humour and, of course, I loved the clever wit of A Midsummer Night's Dream a couple of weeks ago. So when there was talk of going to a comedy night, I jumped at the chance and was really glad I went.

Voted Time Out's 'Best Value Comedy Club in London', we went to Knock2Bag at Rich Mix, Bethnal Green. We grabbed a table off to the side of the stage, away from the prime front row seats, and relaxed into the show. The MC got off to a bit of an awkward start but the rest of the acts were great - my favourites being Kwame Asante, Bobby Mair, and another guy whose name is missing from the line up but gave some great observations. Weirdness was brought by Brian Gittins and classic comedy came from from Sean Hughes. Our table saw a bit of attention but gave as good as we got whilst managing to avoid flying dildos, tossed bread and pig masks (not all at the same time).

After that, we caught up with old friends for birthday celebrations (theirs - mine's on Saturday!) and danced raucously at The Cornershop. I'd been in for a quieter drink earlier in the week and they were playing Donna Allen and The Whispers...a bar after my own heart.

Come up to the Bedroom

Yesterday was great. I spent the majority of the day working on three proposals for potential clients, and by the time 5.30 came round, I was decidedly ready for a drink.

I met a couple of pals in the Golden Lion in Soho, before we caught the bus East to Shoreditch. We stopped in at Floripa - a Brazilian bar/restaurant, formerly Favela Chic - for a drink. Its a place I've passed many a time but never ventured into before, despite favourable reviews. We were a little too early to catch the band but sat at a big wooden table, took in the vibrantly decorative walls and atmosphere, and naughtily ordered a Bloc Party Punch.

It came flaming, in a brilliant 'vintage' suitcase. Advertised as ideal for five to share, it's described as 'firecrackers, feathers, warm sun and drums spring to mind for that holiday-carnival feel. Finlandia Cranberry vodka, Liquor 43, citrus juice and cassis, with a generous topping of sparkling wine'. The four of us dove straight in with straws, and the boozy blend of flavours definitely shouted summer.

We moved on to the main event of the night - the Comedy Cafe Theatre at the Bedroom Bar in Shoreditch. A free monthly showcase of new comedians, the room was packed. We managed to nab some seats that weren't in the conspicuously empty front row, and in true stand-up style, were glad we had. As well as MC Jimmy James Jones, there were eight aspiring acts ranging from the good (Lynn Ruth Miller), the bad and the downright weird (Mr Beige).

My favourites were the slightly-known Gatis Kandis (of Britain's Got Talent fame) and Prince Abdi (of Show Me The Funny), that had us roaring with laughter. Although honorable mention has to go to the guy who had us in hysterics with blue cats.

After that, we fancied another drink so flitted unsuccessfully from Cargo (quiet and couldn't make us a mojito) and Callooh Callay (too busy) to Barrio East. Here we had more success; with yet more Latino vibes, we sampled a Ram Berry Jam ('Forgot your subtle flute of fizz, this baby's got edge!') and the Tropic Plunder ('a treasure of a recipe cooked up in our Caribbean holiday home'). Even for a Wednesday night it was buzzing in all its fluoro-glory. 

We called it quits soon after - after all, it was a school night. For midweek, this cocktail-come-comedy-crawl was definitely one to repeat.