Stand up Comedy Set 1.


As I’m a comedian (no really) I’ve decided I might start posting up material as I’m working on it. Some of this works and lots of the stuff here has never been tried. There’s an observational thing in here and I don’t normally do that stuff so that may be shit. You can knock observational comedians but it’s really not that easy. Also comedy I don’t think looks as funny on the page, so don’t dissect this too much. As they say comedy is like a frog. If you dissect it, it’s no longer a frog….hope you enjoy some of it.



Good evening. My name’s John Scott. Or as I get called at home jock Scott. That’s a very Scottish name…I’ve a cousin from Yorkshire called Hovis broadband miners strike.


So this is a good turn out for a Wednesday. This…

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Favourite Jokes no.2 (The funniest thing I ever saw)

this is worth another airing…


In this series of occasional blogs I’m going to post some of the routines I’ve done as comedian and explain where they came from. This one below is probably the first routine I ever wrote. When I started out I was a very different comic. Much of my shtick was about being a camp guy growing up in a tough mining town. This piece very much comes from that world. The core of the story and punch line are very much based in fact. Of course I’ve embellished and gagged things up to turn it into comedy….


“Ridicule is nothing to be scared of” So said primo New Romantic Adam Ant. He obviously never grew up where I did. If ridicule came in the form of 10 skinheads chasing you down the high street it was plenty to be scared of.


I grew up in the 80s…

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Stand up Comedy Set 1.

As I’m a comedian (no really) I’ve decided I might start posting up material as I’m working on it. Some of this works and lots of the stuff here has never been tried. There’s an observational thing in here and I don’t normally do that stuff so that may be shit. You can knock observational comedians but it’s really not that easy. Also comedy I don’t think looks as funny on the page, so don’t dissect this too much. As they say comedy is like a frog. If you dissect it, it’s no longer a frog….hope you enjoy some of it.



Good evening. My name’s John Scott. Or as I get called at home jock Scott. That’s a very Scottish name…I’ve a cousin from Yorkshire called Hovis broadband miners strike.


So this is a good turn out for a Wednesday. This is better than Jesus would sometimes manage. Think about it the last supper he only got 12…and that was his leaving do.

I would have been furious. “Oh right so if I’m handing out free sandwiches it’s 5000. Turn water into the wine the party goes on for 3 days. Time for me to go now…12! Fucking 12…and one of you is a grass.”


So I’ve just come back from the Edinburgh festival. I don’t know if you know but Edinburgh is famous for firing a cannon at 1-oclock every day. I’ve no idea why. Boom, get back to work you reprobates, or something like that.

Thing is one day I was up near the castle and a bunch of Americans were getting shown around, and I don’t think they’d been warned about our cannon or maybe it’s these days of heightened terror alerts. But when the gun went off they nearly all hit the deck.

It made me think wouldn’t it be fun to just set your watch and just before it went bang sneak up behind them and shout ALLAHU AKBAR!


I’m joking don’t actually do that. Otherwise you’ll end up in Guantanamo doing a very long and drawn out version of the ice bucket challenge.


So I’m a Scottish person. And As a Scottish person I notice that a lot of people look on me a bit like a bellybutton…is he in or is he out. Apparently half the people in the north east want independence from England and join with Scotland. What will we call the place? Newscotasleand?


So we enjoying a drink? I see the government wants to issue new guidelines on binge drinking. According to government figures if you have 4 drinks in one session that’s classed as a binge…Bugger off! That’s not a binge in Scotland…that’s a visit from your auntie.


The government would like to see us drink more sensibly, like they do in Europe. You know it’s not unusual as a child in France to have a glass of wine or a beer with your dinner.

Thing is I reckon if the French had drank four pints of Stella a day instead of two…they might have put up some kind of fight against the Nazis.


I’ve just come back from my holidays in Greece. We saw a great Michael Jackson tribute act. Admittedly he didn’t look much like Michael Jackson…but then again neither did Michael Jackson.


I’m still like a kid when I fly. I still find airports exciting. I start at the train station. If I see somebody with a case, “Oh are you going to the airport? Me too! Maybe we can be pals?”

Then you get to the airport and there’s a big sign saying Newcastle Welcomes You. They might as well stick your name on the end of that. Newcastle welcomes you John! You’re more than welcome. I have to say I’m delighted to be here.

The best bit’s still to come. You go through security…and you don’t beep. That’s awesome every time. You do a wee dance. Better still you turn around and the wife, she’s beeping. YES! She’s getting the full search. You start shouting stuff at the security, “It’s her bra! There’s a lot of scaffolding in it.”

And your mood pretty much stays like that until you get to the departure lounge. That’s when you see the type of person that’s managed to scrape together some money to go on the same shitty package holiday as you. Oh fuck!

And then your mood takes the same trajectory as your flight. Weeeeehhh….and down.

I went to Greece this year. How can people going on holiday look so ill? You should have seen us 200 peasants desperate to go somewhere that people were worse off than us.

I wouldn’t have let half these people on a bus never mind a plane. I saw a woman who had Homer Simpson tattooed on her left tit. Some people see their body as a temple…others a toilet wall.

I swear on my mother’s life on our plane flying to Greece were two guys from NATO. Done up in the full gear with NATO written across their chest. I said, “What the hell are they doing here?” My wife said, “Don’t worry it’s nothing to do with us. It’s probably because of the refugee crisis.”

I said, “Take a look around you…this is a refugee crisis.”


So it looks like our war on terror has been a great success. A bit like our war on drugs. We should have a war on Pandas they’d be fucking everywhere.


I see jihadi John has been back in the papers. Security services say should we have detected Jihadi John earlier…well I thought the name was a bit of a giveaway.


I’m all for multiculturalism. We’ve borrowed from each other’s cultures for centuries. Thing is recently we had the curious case of Rachael Dolezal. She’s a white middle class American who pretended to be an African American activist. Now as I say “borrow” but there’s a line and she kind of pole vaulted across it.


White people don’t know what it is to be black! The last time I got harassed by the police it was because I was committing a crime. I was you I got caught with some drugs. I got away with it. The police said,

“Where did you get your drugs?”

“Err…some black people?”

“Yeah we thought so. What did they look like?”

“Err…well they had dark skin and err…hair”

“Yeah we know them. We thought that’s who it might be. Did you get any names?”

“Names? Err…I think it was Michael, Jermain, Tito…err…Prince and Lenny Henry.”

“Yup we know them. Get a van!”


White mans problems don’t equate with the black communities problems. I can prove this. We’ve had a big influx of students into Newcastle and a genuine headline in our local press said “Areas of Newcastle are being turned into student ghettos!”

Oh no not a student ghetto! My god I’ve seen them on street corners selling quiche! They make it in their quiche dens. I said I’m not buying quiche from you. Last time I got quiche from you it was cut with flan.

What is crime like in a student ghetto? Last night in a student ghetto a man had a Muller Light stolen from his bit of the fridge.

In other news a man had his duvet stolen during a house party. After examining his bed for DNA police have arrested 23 suspects.

White mans problems! There’s now a super-rich elite living in London who are complaining about foreigners that are richer than them.

A bankers wife wrote into the times and complained that “The Russians have completely distorted the nanny market. We can’t get our children into the right schools because they’re full on aspirational Chinese”

It’s not like that up north. Up north the Romanians have distorted the scratch card market.


As I say I’m all for multiculturalism. I’ve even been getting into Hip Hop. And yes I’m having problems saying that word. You know the one begins with an N, say it to the wrong person ends with a triggah!

Chris Rock says that if white people are talking about Rap or Hip Hop then it’s OK to use the word.

I can see a flaw in that argument. Well what if a bunch of white supremacists form a Hip Hop band. And their first single is, They Never Get Anything Right Dem Niggahs (Especially Chris Rock)


The Dissenting comedian…

I am descending
To do some dissenting
Newcastle Stand
Is the room I am renting.
5 star reviewed
Jokes outa the hood
No lazy observations
An attack on the nation
The audience get on their feet
Standing ovation.

Undermining elites
Talkin shit from the streets
Comedy that blows the doors
Offa those mocking the week

Will never be asked to Apollo stage
To much truth in the jokes that I rage.
Be there tonight.
Join in the fight
Errr…something,something, something
Jack Whitehall is shite.

Jeremy Corbyn Rumoured To Have Put Some Private Part of his Mind Into The Brain Dead

Communist berserker Jeremy Corbyn is rumoured to be at it again. Audacious work for a man already accused of killing kittens every time someone doesn’t eat their crusts, bathing in Panda blood and according to some sources saving all his farts in a jar to only have them released on Jewish holidays.

According to a new book by an anonymous donor to The Conservative party who goes under the codename Daveham, Jeremy Corbyn was involved in a bizarre initiation ritual while becoming leader of an elite dinning club known as The Labour Party.

It is said that while attending a dinner of the shady Labour groups inner sanctum, strict vegetarian Corbyn turned down several attempts by other party members of trying to get him to pose for photographs with a private part of his anatomy in a dead pigs mouth.

Instead Corbyn deflected attention away from said ritual by apparently stating, “Look you lot, you’re not getting me like that. How about we all just calm down and scrap nuclear weapons instead?”

Rather than have the desired calming effect, this statement apparently sent this privileged group into some kind of posh person frenzy with many of the members swapping their red ties for a more off yellow colour. Apparently inner sanctum code for we’ll do whatever we want regardless of public opinion.

Corbyn is then rumoured to have said, “Well fuck off to the Lib Dems if you want. You wont be missed. Look just calm down. I reckon renationalising the railways will be hugely popular. In fact I’m quite popular. How can I be unelectable when I just got elected by the biggest majority in the history of modern politics?”

At this point the Labour group were said to have flown into a frenzy, chanting “Don’t say another fucking word or we’ll have you killed by MI6”

Once Corbyns complete silence was assured he was surrounded and everyone burst into a rousing chorus of The National Anthem whilst photographing Corbyns non commitment.

Did An Immigrant Steal Your Job. No It Was Tesco.


There’s a joke I sometimes do which unlike many of my jokes and stories is based in 100% fact. It goes thus…”I was on the road and found myself in a Tesco supermarket in Wales. As I was putting through my small amount of groceries the young man on the checkout asked if I had a loyalty card? I said I didn’t as there wasn’t a Tesco near where I lived. Really? He exclaimed surprised, Where do you live? I replied, well I’m not telling you otherwise when I get up in the morning there will be a bloody hypermarket at the end of my garden.”

Sadly and ironically since I wrote that short routine there is now a Tesco in the area. It’s about 5 minutes walk from the end of my garden, so I suppose that’s a slight victory.

What’s this got to do with immigrants/Tesco stealing our…

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Some of the best Cameron Pig Memes you may have not seen…and a couple you have.

So that’s the dinner in the oven…as opposed to on the end of my willy…call me old fashioned. I really must get down to some proper writing today rather than posting click bate…it’s just all these pigging distractions.

Here’s some memes you might not have seen. Some are from my very own Sod The Tories Facebook page. STT is a live comedy show we do at The Stand Comedy Club Newcastle. You can find us here and listen to the show….

Other memes have been nicked from Milk The Cow. They’re a very funny crew and you can listen to them here…

All of this is true…or is someone telling porkies…ok I’ll stop now.

Meme 75

Meme 72

pig 3

pig 8

meme 74

Meme 69

pig 7

pig 4

meme 73

pig 2

pig 2.

pig 5

pig 6

pig 13

pig 11

pig 16

pig 12

pig 14

Things our prime minister should avoid.

1.Putting your penis in a dead pigs mouth.

2. Putting your penis in a dead pigs mouth in front of witnesses.

3. Putting your penis in a dead pigs mouth and having a photo taken for posterity.

4. Any student initiation ritual involving a dead pigs head.

5. Bacon sandwiches. (And photographers)

6. Prime Ministers question time (for the next month or so at least.)

7. Jewish  festivals.

8. George Orwells Animal Farm. (Some pigs are more equal than others etc…)

9. The wife.

10. Pissing off major conservative party donors.

11. The dead pigs relatives.

12. Social media.  (for the next 6 months or so at least)

13. The entire opposition apart from maybe Nick Clegg.

14. Sticking an apple in their mouth.

15. Frazzles (yes we all know how good they are…but really stay clear!)

16. Scotland (actually maybe the outdoors in general.)

17. Boris Johnson.

18. Getting stoned and listening to SUPERTRAMP??? (This really is weird behaviour. )

19. Bill Clinton.

20. Possibly the next election.

21. Definitely his next erection.

22. Selling very expensive pig sperm to the Chinese.

23. Any form of entertaining his children that involves pigs (Babe, Winnie the Poo, hey kids watch what I can do with this… etc…)

24. Telling lies (porkies)

25. George Osborn cocaine and prostitutes.

26. Mincing his words.

27. The Dewsbury County Conservative associations Pig Racing fundraiser.

28. Spam internet or tinned.

29. Kermit the Frog.

30. Puns involving words and phrases like, dispigable, boared, nose in the trough, it’s snout to do with me, Silence of the hams,  etc…

And finally Rebecca Loos. More than anything…Rebecca Loos.

Edinburgh ’88 (The Kangaroo Club and birth of Acid House)

It was in the music paper the  NME that we first read about it. A new music scene was causing a stir in London and it’s name was Acid house. Me and my friend Ian (Suds) poured over the article at collage one Wednesday. We were there to sit our City and Guilds in printing. On reflection two less likely tradesmen you couldn’t find this side of a Smiths B side.

We were pure indie types at the time of reading, although that does cover a very wide church. We both sported flattop haircuts and the look of folks who were into the fringe music of Psychobilly. We were both more into the look than the music him being more into the darker fair of Killing Joke and Dead Can Dance, me The Stranglers and late 70s new wave Bowie, Talking Heads etc. It’s worth mentioning we were into that stuff to give you an idea of how our taste in music was about to be shifted so far leftfield we’d soon be in the countryside surrounded by sheep.

The thing that struck me about the article was the pictures of the crowd attending these nights. It was very multicultural and they were dressed like nothing you’d ever seen on a scene. The one image that struck me was of a black guy in a rainbow stripe jumper and flares. I remember thinking, “Wow check him…he’s dressed like a white guy.”

Skip forward a couple of weeks and Ian,myself and another mate Roger are on the bottom floor of a three tier Goth club in Edinburgh’s Cowgate known as The Mission. A club so historically stringent in the type of punter it wanted to pull that it had actually named itself after a popular Goth band of the time. They might as well have called it self harmers, black clothes and petula oil only beyond this point. In this venue before us had come the punks and now the doom and gloom of your latest angst and gaze at shoes  movement.

As I said the club took place on three tiers. The bottom tier was the main night and on the other two you could find a middle tier of more specialised stuff and on the top a small bar and dance floor where folk probably mainly went for some air. For reasons I’ve forgotten we wondered up to the top tier that night. It was a fateful decision because as we discovered later we’d wandered into the very first attempt in Edinburgh of trying to replicate what was happening in London. We’d actually wandered into a different night with separate tickets called The Kangaroo Club. However they were so desperate to get folk in that the doormen let slide that we didn’t have tickets and let us pass.

I’ve only vague memories of what was going on that first night. I certainly remember some very weird noises were emanating from the DJ booth, and between the weird noise tracks they were playing excellent fun to dance to tunes like The Theme from Starsky and Hutch Stevie Wonders Superstition. And that was that. Within a month Goth and doom was dead and dressing up like a pirate was in.

We got really lucky. We landed on a proper underground youth movement that lasted for a good six months before the mainstream media landed. Every week it was the same 40-50 folk in this room. dancing a new dance and improvising a look that still didn’t have any set rules. I had an acid house smiley T-Shirt months before anybody knew what it was. By bizarre coincidence the yellow smiley was also the corporate logo of the printing firm I worked for. Everybody at work just thought I was getting really into my job.

It’s now very important to point out one major factor of the embryonic Acid House scene of Edinburgh at this point in time…there were no drugs involved. They hadn’t arrived yet. Ecstasy as a nation wide thing was still a year or two away. Acid was kicking about but it wasn’t a major factor of the night. The most hedonistic thing the youngsters wanted to do attending this particular night was dress up, dance and feel part of something new and unknown. Ironically because we were from out of town and had to pay for taxis at the end of the night we were often skint and could only drink water. Ha little did we know how popular that would become.   We danced to  weird and unheard of tunes like Baby Ford Oochy Coochy or Acid Man by Jolly Roger. There wasn’t enough actual Acid House music at the time to fill a night so these tracks would often get multiple plays mixed with the soul funk I mentioned earlier. Manchester still didn’t have a clue!

I remember a phrase I said often on these nights. “This is what punk must have been like. This is our punk” And it was. It was pure youthful we know something you don’t know bliss. It was at least a year before Joe Strummer described the scene in exactly the same way on telly.

And then one fateful day ITV news at One did a feature on the new “threat” to a generation. The Evil of Acid House. We turned up at the Kangaroo that week and instead of the usual 40-50 well hip kids there was a queue going from the door like Jesus himself was on the decks that night. The only nice bit of that was the doormen were letting in the regulars without queuing. Made you feel special until you got inside. Then you got inside and the place looked like a football match. Where the fuck did these plebs come from. And that was the end of that…sort of.

I’ll never forget those six months. It was awesome at that age to be part of something nobody knew anything about. Of course once that news article went up there were a lot of questions being asked at home and at work. And as for We call It ACEEEEED. I could have personally strangled the shills that made that particular song. Where once we got bemused looks and asked if we were off to a fancy dress…now a certain word plagued you everywhere. Ah well at least The Mondays were just around the corner…

And I don’t care what you say. This is still out there…bloody hell it’s only got just over 1000 hits on YouTube.