The Entertainer

Being deprived of theatre as a child (partly as my mum feared we would all be blown up if we went to Belfast in the 80s - no joke!... hang on, who ever takes any notice of bomb scares anyway?) I was really happy to be kindly treated to 'The Entertainer' (amongst other things) at the Old Vic last night.

Despite the fact that the entire cast (particularly Robert Lindsay and John Normington as the old grandfather) did us well and I had a few giggles, I was affronted that the writer, John Osborne and co. dared to use our money (or Jack's money) to depress us and defy us all by emphatically showing the detrimental effects of a life of sloth, greed, infidelity and general insensitivity. We all know what happens if you live your life as a selfish arsehole but I see that maybe these people need to be told (so well done, John Osborne!). The thing is though, idiots such as the 'entertainer' who ruin peoples' lives don't care so long as they come out of it alright. This man didn't have 'feelings'. I'm not going off on a rant that 'men don't have feelings' as I know many who do, but there must be a lot of arseholes like that out there to have a world as screwed up as this one.

Please note if anyone dares ask me to play the entertainer on the piano, I'll bang your head off the keys for accompaniment (unless you're Noel - to whom I'll smile sweetly and oblige in great pain)...