Red Bastard

You know its been a good night when you wake up with Mardi Gras beads all over your bedroom floor. You know its been a weird night when you realise that you haven’t woken up until 3pm and Barry from upstairs is doing the world’s best impression of attempting to ‘swing a cat’ in his kitchen.

This is what happened to me two weeks ago when I woke up after seeing 'Red Bastard.’ Red Bastard is a comedian and madman whom I went to see perform at the Vaults festival in Waterloo. I had planned a night in but was lured at the last minute by pictures like the one above. I never fail to be intrigued by a man in a baby gro full of space hoppers. 

As a sometime comedian myself, you would think that I might be generous when it comes to audience participation. I’m not. I hate it. Sorry. Red Bastard instructed us all to swap seats with the person next to us and immediately my seat was lost. I ended up sitting on my friend Henry’s knee. I was elevated in the eyes of Red Bastard. After I’d witnessed him chase an audience member to the loo I began to ignore his requests for participation with fervour.

I could feel the glare from the drama students in the audience. I’m quite sure they would have given their left arm to sing in public, but I was only on my first bottle of red and I was not playing ball. At the end of the show Red Bastard stripped naked, reminding me of the time my mother sent me to see 'puppetry of the penis’ when I was 14. I have never forgotten 'the emerging mollusc.’

After the show, the rest of the venue turned into a club and we continued on our road to ruin. The Mardi gras celebrations began and I remembered that I had in fact been there before. Last year my parents were in Antigua and I had to stand in for them at my sister’s parents evening. The night before I went to the Vaults, won a dance off and a crown and returned home at 5. When my other sister picked me up the next morning I was blind. She force fed me bacon sandwiches and coffee and after being denied a nap in my sister’s dorm room I snuck in late to the speeches. 

My old teachers politely leant back as I breathed booze everywhere and my sister repeatedly poked me throughout the day to stop me nodding off. She also had to intervene when I cornered a couple in the buffet queue to tell them my views on Pandas. They are pointless, stupid, expensive animals who deserve to go extinct. 

I made another vlog at the weekend as well. There’s a poem in it. I really don’t like doing these. Enjoy.