Slut

Happy Friday my brethren.

The first thing I need to do is say that I saw a brilliant performance last night at The Ropetackle Arts Centre in Shoreham. It was The Shape of Things by Neil Labute, directed by Ross Drury and starring Rachel Savage, Kett Turton, Stuart Robinson and Jill Rutland.

The script itself is great and is one of the few non-pretentious explorations of 'what is art' I've seen in a long time. I've got an incredibly short attention span and I managed not to get bored - which, although it might sound like limited praise, is pretty impressive.

Having absolutely no qualifications for reviewing I'll now blind on and tell you exactly what I thought of it with all the finesse of an erotically charged hungry flamingo trying to get through a cat flap. I thought Turton produced a spell binding performance - it was a beautiful duet with Savage. Her energy and kinky sense of expression drove the temper of the show and kept me happily ensconsed in the world of the show. It was nice to be presented with a piece of theatre that didn't try and convince you that being uncomfortable and challenged was the ultimate goal. I enjoyed the performance, I want to watch it again - that, to me, seems to be what theatre should always be aiming for.

Speaking of reviews, I woke up to a Google alert informing me of one of my own. At my gig on Friday I apparently gave "a rather flustered performance of a woman on the edge of a mid-20s breakdown."

Brilliant. Why do I even fucking bother?

It wasn't a 'performance' you mother fucking eejit. It was a cry for help. I am on the edge of a mid-20s breakdown. What about publishing this on the internet do you think is going to help my fragile mental state?

This afternoon I am going to go and play dolphin derby on Brighton pier. Dolphin derby is a wonderful game where you flog the shot out of a dolphin until it wins you a scabby cuddly fish. As soon as you've won the scabby fish you're no longer interested in it, but it doesn't mean you won't play the dolphin derby again. It's like smack.

Usually I'd be against animal exploitation, but I don't really like dolphins so I'm ok with this one. Plus, they're not real I don't think so I don't think the race actually hurts them. And anyway, even if it did, if dolphin's are so sodding intelligent they can just shape up and do something about it. Until there is a dolphin uprising I refuse to believe they are the super animals that everyone would have you believe.

I'm also going to ride on a waltzer until I'm sick. Brilliant. Edge of a breakdown? Let's find out if waltzers push me over the edge...