Apologies but this entry will contain a lot of swearing. You'll see why in a minute.
Franc and I are quite similar and as a result have an amiable yet rather adversarial friendship. He's a very clever man with endless stores of trivia, an acid tongue, a keen intellect and a working knowledge of history that makes Simon Schama look like Simon Le Bon. He has also been on 15-to-1. And he did better than me. Bastard.
We are constantly challenging each other or pedantically highlighting the other's mistakes. We were made to be in a quiz team together.
So on Thursday, myself, Franc, Brian, Chris and Dave made our way down to Scruffy Murphy's on George St for the pub quiz. The advert boasted a prize of A$100 and a possible star prize of A$1400. Note "possible".
Clearly, we didn't know what we'd let ourselves in for, however, as the host, one Pommy Andy, was the most dim-witted, vulgar, boorish and egotistical car-crash of a human being I've seen in a long while.
Self-styled "Cockney comedian" Andy looked like a cross between Timmy Mallet, Des Kay from the Fast Show (Wicky-Woo Des Kay!) and one, if not both, of 80s Disco twats Black Lace. And one of them is dead.
Also, he sounded like Mike Reid (dead) and had repertoire of jokes he'd thiefed of Bernard Manning (also dead). Not so much end of the pier, then, as end of the road. Maybe even the end of civilisation as we know it. As my mate Chris says "He could get a job as a hyena silencer".
He introduced himself thus: "Right, listen up you fackin' cahnts...." and then proceeded to
pepper his quiz questions with jibes against the audience, where he ran the whole gamut of insults.
To a woman in the audience he said "If you didn't want me to stare at your tits, sweetheart, you shouldn't have worn that top. Stupid cow"
To two twentysomething Germans he said "Facking hell, it's the Nazis".
To the Americans "Fack you, you facking cahnts!"
And three totally unassuming suited guys who had clearly nipped in for a pint after work he said "Where you've been? Up Kings Cross taking it up the arse?"
Didn't see what happened next, but Pommy Andy had called over to hulking Maori bouncers to sort out one of the suits, claiming he'd had a pop at him. Ironic then that he had to call on the help of two members of an ethnic minority - the very people he had just ridiculed in a previous question. Clearly, someone should lay the twat out.
We considered leaving, but thought it more fun to take his money off him. We came second by one point and won a free jug of beer which we drank quickly. We left never to return.
There were two laughter tracks in there that night. One borne out of the amazement at what a fuckwit this guy was and another, predominantly the older generation, who took the jokes at face value.
Pub Landlord Al Murray is an ironic joke. When Ricky Gervais calls Third World Sweatshop Workers "Lazy" it's a persona. When Warren Mitchell first played Alf Garnett, it was a character.
I think Pommy Andy's idea of irony, to paraphrase Baldrick, is that it's a bit like goldy, silvery and bronzey.
This is his site. Techy people please find someway of defacing it.