January 9, 2012 by Lindsay Sharman
Ooooh I can feel my enthusiasm for this haiku business waning. I’ll probably do something else for my next gig summary…like eat biscuits and watch the telly. That Benedict Cumberbatch ay? Phwoooooar.
My lust template now consists of Labyrinth Bowie, Darcy Colin Firth, and Sherlock Cumberbatch. Let’s have some pictures so I can put off having to write the bloody haiku…
Cwooooar. There’s a link isn’t there? Sumptuous locks, greyhound cheekbones, vaguely poncey. Two of them wear very interesting trouser-ish garments.
In reality, I expect I’m too much of a coarse harridan to hang out with the loikes of them. I’d feel compelled to sabotage any potential connection by screaming something grotesque about arses, or something. “Oh Mr Darcy, shall we take a turn around the garden? May I take your arm, good sirrah? Ahhh fucking bitchtits, I’ve just trod in dogshit! Oh, ehmmm, I mean, ‘whoopsy-daisy’. Eheh heh heh. Sorry.”
Although for Labyrinth Bowie to be interested in me, I’d have to be about 13 anyway.
Right, come on, lets do the gig summary. It was a super gig. I’ve had some bloody lovely gigs considering it’s January, we’re in the middle of a recession, and a third thing as well (I’m very tired, but I know everything has to come in threes). So here’s my shoddily bunged-together haiku on the excellent Angel Comedy, as run by Sarah Pearce, Barry Ferns and Katerina Vrana …
Barry bled his friend.
Genocide became a theme.
Cripes! What larks we had.
Have definitely had enough of this haiku shit.