Fresh from the Inbox

[Barman]

TMR tries to trade up

  AFFS...

[Nick]

[Steve]

[Steve]

Henning Wehn sends another amusing and in part thought provoking missive:

Dear Friends of German Humour,
I hope you’re all well and making the most of the sunshine!

Sadly I'm still writing to you in my capacity as German Comedy Ambassador rather than manager of Germany. It feels as if I'm being overlooked for the role once again. Say what you like about Hansi Flick and Jogi Löw before him, they made watching Nationalmannschaft more exciting than ever. Every game is a nail-biter as we can lose to absolutely anyone.

Moving on, this August I got more than my usual share of good weather as I wasn’t at the Edinburgh Fringe for the first time since 2004. Well, there was the Boris and Nicola enforced break in 2020 but let’s try and forget about that one.

Just like last year, this year’s Fringe has been a battleground of the ‘culture war’. Whereas last year Jerry Sadowitz’s run got cancelled after one show, it got even more ridiculous this time round when Father Ted writer Graham Linehan’s one-off appearance got cancelled before he even got up there. From what I understand it was over his opinions on men in skirts, a very delicate subject in Scotland at the best of times.

Bemusingly the cancellation was celebrated by a good number of performers. As a rule of thumb: cheering when someone isn’t allowed to sell tickets when your business model relies on being allowed to sell tickets is rather short-sighted. For all you know it’s you next.

I said as much on social media, which led to an avalanche of replies. Half the people tried to convince me that if a man puts on a skirt they must be a paedophile and the other half informed me if a man puts on a skirt they become a woman. There wasn’t a single reply along the lines of “If a man puts on a skirt, they’re a man who has put a skirt on and that’s that”.

But let’s move on from the most politicised to the most entertaining weeks of the year: party conference season!

Labour and the Greens are at home in Liverpool and Brighton, the Tories have a tricky away fixture to Manchester, and the Liberals play on neutral ground in Bournemouth.

There’s little better than watching thousands and thousands of people giving standing ovations for speeches full of half-baked ideas! It's like being back on tour!

Joking aside, we must be grateful to every single one of those attendees for giving up their time to be politically active. Be that at national, regional, local or Sunday league level. Because being accountable to and voted for by the general public can’t be fun. For starters: 50% of voters are of below average intelligence.

We rarely hear it said but it’s undoubtedly true: MPs are underpaid if anything. As we learned during the Huw Edwards lark, the geezer reading out what MPs do at work is paid five times as much as the MPs doing the work. That just can’t be right. Since 2016 two MPs got killed doing their job. That’s a higher fatality rate than amongst deep-sea divers who are being paid a lot more and get to breathe purified air. In addition, deep-sea divers risk their lives for only six months of the year rather than every minute God sends.

Talking of working… I am back in action and have a few previews at the Betsey Trotwood coming up, which I am looking forward to immensely!

Following an unbiased look at charity, an unbiased look at immigration, an unbiased look at Brexit and an unbiased look at Covid, “Acid Wehn” will be an unbiased look at climate change and party conferences. Right now it’s still a shambles. But I’m on it!

Have a great rest of (what still feels like) summer

Henning

Please find below a list of upcoming gigs. It would be great to see you at one of those.
November 2023
8th - LONDON - Betsey Trotwood - TICKETS
14th - LONDON - Betsey Trotwood - TICKETS
22nd - LONDON - Betsey Trotwood - TICKETS
29th - LONDON - Betsey Trotwood - TICKETS
30th - LONDON - Betsey Trotwood - TICKETS
 
Henning Wehn, German Comedy Ambassador, https://www.henningwehn.de/ 

[Barman]

A lot of people think I’m from Kent, I often hear them whisper it as I walk past...

[Steve]

A lot of people think I’m from Kent, I often hear them whisper it as I walk past...

[Steve]

https://www.amazon.co.uk/review/R3GDDEL1SC1QQ5?dplnkId=103bb365-dd74-4a1b-97a4-19c7e694af41


5.0 out of 5 stars Veet -- the Men's Hair Removal Gel Creme (from hell) . . .
Reviewed in the United Kingdom on 30 July 2012
After having been told my danglies looked like an elderly rastafarian I decided to take the plunge and buy some of this as previous shaving attempts had only been mildly successful and I nearly put my back out trying to reach the more difficult bits.

Being a bit of a romantic I thought I would do the deed on the missus's birthday as a bit of a treat.I ordered it well in advance and working in the North sea I considered myself a bit above some of the characters writing the previous reviews and wrote them off as soft office types...oh my fellow sufferers how wrong I was.

I waited until the other half was tucked up in bed and after giving some vague hints about a special surprise I went down to the bathroom. Initially all went well and I applied the gel and stood waiting for something to happen. I didn't have long to wait.

At first there was a gentle warmth which in a matter of seconds was replaced by an intense burning and a feeling I can only describe as like being given a barbed wire wedgie by two people intent on hitting the ceiling with my head.

Religion hadn't featured much in my life until that night but I suddenly became willing to convert to any religion to stop the violent burning around the turd tunnel and what seemed like the destruction of the meat and two veg.

Struggling to not bite through my bottom lip I tried to wash the gel of in the sink and only succeeded in blocking the plughole with a mat of hair.Through the haze of tears I struggled out of the bathroom across the hall into the kitchen by this time walking was not really possible and I crawled the final yard to the fridge in the hope of some form of cold relief.

I yanked the freezer drawer out and found a tub of ice cream, tore the lid of and positioned it under me. The relief was fantastic but only temporary as it melted fairly quickly and the fiery stabbing soon returned.

Due to the shape of the ice cream tub I hadn't managed to give the starfish any treatment and I groped around in the draw for something else as I was sure my vision was going to fail fairly soon. I grabbed a bag of what I later found out was frozen sprouts and tore it open trying to be quiet as I did so. I took a handful of them and tried in vain to clench some between the cheeks of my arse.

This was not doing the trick as some of the gel had found it's way up the chutney channel and it felt like the space shuttle was running it's engines behind me.This was probably and hopefully the only time in my life I was going to wish there was a gay snowman in the kitchen which should give you some idea of the depths I was willing to sink to in order to ease the pain.

The only solution my pain crazed mind could come up with was to gently ease one of the sprouts where no veg had gone before.

Unfortunately, alerted by the strange grunts coming from the kitchen the other half chose that moment to come and investigate and was greeted by the sight of me, arse in the air, strawberry ice cream dripping from my bell end pushing a sprout up my arse while muttering..." Ooooh that feels good "

Understandingly this was a shock to her and she let out a scream and as I hadn't heard her come in it caused an involuntary spasm of shock in myself which resulted in the sprout being ejected at quite some speed in her direction.

I can understand that having a sprout farted against your leg at 11 at night in the kitchen probably wasn't the special surprise she was expecting and having to explain to the kids the next day what the strange hollow in the ice cream was didn't improve my status...

So to sum it up Veet removes hair, dignity and self respect....... :-

[Barman]

https://www.amazon.co.uk/review/R3GDDEL1SC1QQ5?dplnkId=103bb365-dd74-4a1b-97a4-19c7e694af41


5.0 out of 5 stars Veet -- the Men's Hair Removal Gel Creme (from hell) . . .
Reviewed in the United Kingdom on 30 July 2012
After having been told my danglies looked like an elderly rastafarian I decided to take the plunge and buy some of this as previous shaving attempts had only been mildly successful and I nearly put my back out trying to reach the more difficult bits.

Being a bit of a romantic I thought I would do the deed on the missus's birthday as a bit of a treat.I ordered it well in advance and working in the North sea I considered myself a bit above some of the characters writing the previous reviews and wrote them off as soft office types...oh my fellow sufferers how wrong I was.

I waited until the other half was tucked up in bed and after giving some vague hints about a special surprise I went down to the bathroom. Initially all went well and I applied the gel and stood waiting for something to happen. I didn't have long to wait.

At first there was a gentle warmth which in a matter of seconds was replaced by an intense burning and a feeling I can only describe as like being given a barbed wire wedgie by two people intent on hitting the ceiling with my head.

Religion hadn't featured much in my life until that night but I suddenly became willing to convert to any religion to stop the violent burning around the turd tunnel and what seemed like the destruction of the meat and two veg.

Struggling to not bite through my bottom lip I tried to wash the gel of in the sink and only succeeded in blocking the plughole with a mat of hair.Through the haze of tears I struggled out of the bathroom across the hall into the kitchen by this time walking was not really possible and I crawled the final yard to the fridge in the hope of some form of cold relief.

I yanked the freezer drawer out and found a tub of ice cream, tore the lid of and positioned it under me. The relief was fantastic but only temporary as it melted fairly quickly and the fiery stabbing soon returned.

Due to the shape of the ice cream tub I hadn't managed to give the starfish any treatment and I groped around in the draw for something else as I was sure my vision was going to fail fairly soon. I grabbed a bag of what I later found out was frozen sprouts and tore it open trying to be quiet as I did so. I took a handful of them and tried in vain to clench some between the cheeks of my arse.

This was not doing the trick as some of the gel had found it's way up the chutney channel and it felt like the space shuttle was running it's engines behind me.This was probably and hopefully the only time in my life I was going to wish there was a gay snowman in the kitchen which should give you some idea of the depths I was willing to sink to in order to ease the pain.

The only solution my pain crazed mind could come up with was to gently ease one of the sprouts where no veg had gone before.

Unfortunately, alerted by the strange grunts coming from the kitchen the other half chose that moment to come and investigate and was greeted by the sight of me, arse in the air, strawberry ice cream dripping from my bell end pushing a sprout up my arse while muttering..." Ooooh that feels good "

Understandingly this was a shock to her and she let out a scream and as I hadn't heard her come in it caused an involuntary spasm of shock in myself which resulted in the sprout being ejected at quite some speed in her direction.

I can understand that having a sprout farted against your leg at 11 at night in the kitchen probably wasn't the special surprise she was expecting and having to explain to the kids the next day what the strange hollow in the ice cream was didn't improve my status...

So to sum it up Veet removes hair, dignity and self respect....... :-

 

[Barman]

I followed the advice off the telly and put a brick in my cistern to save water, which worked a treat so I've now put one in my petrol tank to save fuel.

I can't believe no one else thought of it !

[Steve]

I followed the advice off the telly and put a brick in my cistern to save water, which worked a treat so I've now put one in my petrol tank to save fuel.

I can't believe no one else thought of it !

[Nick]

[Barman]

 

[Barman]

A young man walks onto the stage of Stars in their Eyes, on crutches, with a plaster cast from his feet to his hips.

Matthew Kelly Introduces him as Simon.

"It's very brave of you to come out here," says Matthew. "Please tell the audience what happened."

"Well," replies Simon, "about a year ago, I was driving with my uncle when we had a really bad accident. Unfortunately my uncle was killed outright but I survived. I was trapped in the car for six hours before I was eventually cut free. The doctors had me in surgery for 12 hours but they couldn't save my legs."

"That's terrible. But I see you have legs now. Are they artificial?" asks Matthew.

"No Matthew, while I was in hospital the doctors informed me that my uncle had in fact died. But they also said that his legs were fine and, with all the advances in medical science, they could graft the bottom half of his body onto mine. As you can see the operation was successful. I have been having physiotherapy for six months and hope to be walking fully again by the end of the year."

A huge round of applause erupts from the audience. Kelly responds with, "That's an unbelievable story. So tonight, who are you going to be?"

"Tonight, Matthew, I am going to be Simon and Half uncle"

[Barman]

The wife and I bought our little son a jigsaw once.

Unfortunately, when we got home, we found he’d plugged it in and cut of four of his fingers.

[Steve]

The wife and I bought our little son a jigsaw once.

Unfortunately, when we got home, we found he’d plugged it in and cut of four of his fingers.