New Year’s Eve

After last years slothful effort where we celebrated New Year’s Eve on the sofa with a cup of tea, the Chef and I along with a few friends actually ventured into central London on New Year’s Eve. First stop was Balans, the gayest restaurant in Soho where the waiters served up a decent Thai Curry with flirtatious aplomb.

Comedy Camp was the venue for the rest of the evening. Shazia Mirza delivered her usual risque routine in her deadpan style. Topping and Butch, a tongue-in-cheek leather-clad cabaret act dropped a few clangers with some Madeleine McCann jokes, and Jo Caulfieled was absolutely hilarious as usual with her observational humour.

Once the acts had finished, the chairs were cleared so we could shake out stuff to some cheesy classics until the countdown to midnight. The last time I spent New years in a club was probably 1990 at the Ritzy in Burnley.

I’d tell you some gags but you really had to be there. But do not fear, Comedy Camp is on every Tuesday at Barcode in Soho, so book some tickets yourself at www.comedycamp.co.uk!

Brum Brum

At Comedy Camp (which is billed as a “straight – friendly” comedy night), Shazia Mirza told us she was from Birmingham. “It’s great now it’s finished. But I am from the posh part. It’s called Bangladesh!”

Shazia was on top form and as usual told some jokes that would get her stoned if she repeated them in say, Saudi Arabia, let alone Iran.

But she was wrong about Birmingham. We visited that very weekend and despite the swish new Selfridges and Bullring, it’s still blighted by 60s ring-road hell. Shame it didn’t have a nice painless IRA bomb like Manchester did, but that might be tempting fate in the times we live in.

Oh well you’ve got to laugh – and Shazia had us in stitches. Her trademark line: “I’m Shazia Mirza – at least that’s what it says on my pilot’s licence!”