Monday, 12 May 2008

When beautiful meets stupid they move to Bournemouth!

There's an ancient Chinese saying; Wise man say - There is only one thing prettier than a Bournemouth Girl - and that's a Bournemouth Boy!

I spent this weekend in Bournemouth. I had a gig on Saturday night in a club by the pier. It wasn't my best gig, and wasn't even fun. Before the gig, as always, I spent some time watching the crowd (in a non creepy sort of way.) They were a lively energetic bunch, many Hen Nights and Stag Parties and blokes who had spent the day cooling hot heads with icy beer.

When I think that I have the measure of the crowd, I delve into my notebook and select a selection of gags and stories I think will suit the audience. The mistake I made on Saturday night was assuming that a lively crowd was a clever crowd.... oh how far from true that was. Great one-liners that have never ever failed me, suddenly died horrible deaths. Stories which have been honed and perfected, smothered blank faces like damp pastry on cold rhubarb.

I came off stage feeling completely gutted, never in over 130 gigs had I ever had such a bad response.

The headline act for the night did very simple, rude and basic gags (for basic read 'groin and toilet.) His 16 years experience really showed and he worked the audience like a true pro and made the rest of us look like complete beginners. He had clearly met this species before.

The whole experience seemed very indicative of the general difficulties that I have communicating with anyone in Bournemouth. The twilight pavements are pebble-dashed with young and beautiful people, manicured and quaffed with just one thing in mind; Themselves! They have just one goal in life; Money!

Within the first sentence of any conversation, you must mention that your Daddy has a big boat, or that your Maserati cant be with you as its in being gold plated by celebrity artists. If you fail to make it over this hurdle, their eyes will glaze over and they will wander off, mid word, seeking more glamorous prey to bank.

I travel the country from coast to coast conveying mirth and devilment to all types of people from all over the world. I love chatting to new people and have a diverse group of friends. Never in my experience have I met such a collection of two dimensional, empty headed orange tanned ballerinas.

The failure to amuse the audience was completely mine. The failure to to develop into well rounded and interesting individuals is completely theirs!

Before I go on stage in Bournemouth again, I will clear my mind of all intelligent thought and refuse to use any words of more than two syllables... perhaps then, the poor bejewelled invertebrates will laugh their little hollow souls all the way back up their superficial bottoms.

3 comments:

beardypete45 said...

I cannot believe that the Jools-meister didn't get one laugh in bournemouth...i have seen this very esteemed and polished and dynamic comedian rip the roof off several well established comedy houses in the past. Bournemouth must be a very sorry place indeed if it can't laugh at material of such magnitude...the guy is just down right funny...like fu-hun-knee!!

he's newports finest and it won't be long before we're seeing him on mainstream tv...he's already put the valleys to the comedy sword and is now travelling the land serving up whoop-ass-comedy-gold!!

my fave riff that he does is the one about stand up being like surfing!! some people learn to be funny, some strive...but very few have as many natural funny bones as jools.

Paul Parry said...

Chin up Jools, you are Newport's only professional comedian for a reason. If that lottery story didn't storm it then Bournmouth is a sick, sick town. He was head to toe in denim for Christ sake!!!

By the way, you ever thought of writing a novel? Some of those vivid images of Bournmouth nightlife sent shivers down my spine. You are a master of metaphor!

Jools Constant said...

whoever you two contributers are... your words are very encouraging. warmest thanks.
jools