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Groping Stifler’s Mom or: Tales from the opening weekend of the 2010 Edinburgh Festival Fringe Part Two

So I stepped out of the Lady Garden gig and saw them hanging around so I went up and told them they were awesome and took a picture of them all – its an exclusive! Woo! I then hightailed my sweet ass back across town again for my appointment with “Stiflers Mom” off of the American Pie Trilogy.

I stepped into the room and saw one seat in the audience front and centre but it was next to an overtly obese chap and these seats were smaller than plane seats. It was clear that no-one else wanted to sit next to him but I though “I’ll take a hit for the Kobestarr team” and sidled up to the incredible mass. Moments later Stiflers Mom, the original MILF (or Jennifer Coolidge if you must) steps out from behind the curtain. Woah! She is certainly a striking woman standing at well over 6 feet tall in heels and shoulder length Hollywood blonde hair and a small handbag. I have to admit that the sole reason I went to the show is so that I could say that I saw Stiflers Mom but her show was genuinely hilarious. Telling stories about her life and trying to break into the film business. Jennifer is proper funny – playing the blonde card a few times but with style.

Early in the show she reveals her fear of doing stand-up for the first time and tells us that she has prepared some put downs for hecklers and invites the audience to try her out for size. The room falls silent. You can see concern on peoples faces “we’ve never been asked to heckle before!” they squirm. I take a look around and decide to seize the opportunity to break the deadlock…”MILF!!” I shout at the top of my voice. There – I did it! Now I can die happy! The rest of the crowd roar in laughter and start clapping. The original MILF manages to find me in-spite of the fact I’m being eclipsed by the behemoth. “Oh my” she says…”well thank-you, its not really a heckle though. Heckles are supposed to be nasty, and from such a handsome guy as well…” The show carries on with the invited heckles, Hollywood tales and fact that she was single. Single eh? Here lies the question…could I have pulled Stifler’s Mom? She did say I was handsome…?

After the show I was in the reception area trying to get in touch with Edinburgh peoples when Stiflers Mom steps out from her changing room. I had to talk to her, so went over and we talked about all kind of gash crap that I can’t remember then got a big hug and took a couple of pictures. Crikey!        

I went outside slightly dazed and meandered over to one of the many festival beer gardens to meet my work mate Pete and his friends before heading off to a show called “Shaggers”.

Now just so you know, “Shaggers” is not the kind of show you see on an Amsterdam stag do! It’s a free show set up to showcase comedians that are performing at the festival with the idea that you if like what you see you’ll go and see their full show afterwards. There is once compare, four comedians and two rules, each comedian has 10 minutes and the subject matter has to be all about copping off.

The night is run and compered by Nik Coppin who has taken the show format as far as Australia. He’s a good comedian and does a fair stint in warming the 80 strong, drunk and tired crowd up and in doing so picks out a single chap from the audience and tries to get him laid. This doesn’t work – the Edinburgh women aren’t keen so Nick cuts his losses and introduces the first of the acts or “Shaggers” on the stage in the shape of Frenchman Marcel Lucont. Marcel is dressed top to toe in black like a French version of the “Milk Tray Man” or a less weird David Blaine and claims to be France’s premiere lover. Speaking in hushed tones, rude to the British hecklers, shrugging and drinking a glass of wine he could not be more stereotypically French if he had a black and white striped top and load of onions round his neck wielding une baguette! Quality!

After Marcel there is a comedic musician dude that sets up behind a keyboard. I really can’t remember his name or any of his songs but he was really good. There was a sexy song about the TV program “Countdown”?!

The keyboard bound comedian makes way for a festival favourite of mine Diane Spencer (more on her in my next Edinburgh post). Diane looks like she should be Scottish with a pale complexion and striking red hair that would make Jessica Rabbit jealous. That is apart from the fact that she is very slim and attractive! Sorry a cheap Scottish low blow there! Diane is easily the filthiest and funniest of all the “Shaggers” on the night, recalling stories about going to sex shops, catching her boyfriend masturbating with a weird foot vagina and the dangers of walking barefoot on a smooth floor with your feet covered in jizz!

There was another chap after those guys but he was a bit shit and I can’t be bothered to write about him!

The next morning I woke up bright and breezy and went to the fringe shop on the Royal Mile and waited in the queue for a motherfucking hour stood behind three of the poshest posh kids I have ever had the misfortune to witness. They were called Suki, Brandreth and Hortensia (possibly) and raaaa’ed on about being bummed at boarding school (not really, two of them were girls so that’s impossible…unless they used a strap on…maybe I should have listened!).

I met my half Australian Capoeira friend best known as Lobo at the train station and stepped over to the Royal Mile see the kilted marching bands on the before where we heading over to see the first show of the day Jay Foreman.

Jay Foreman is a guitar-playing comedian and seeing him is a complete gamble, choosing him soley on his inch square description in the Fringe Festival Guide. I used to groan at the thought of people trying to combine music with comedy but since “Bill Bailey”, I consider him to be the pioneer of musical comedy, I have revised my prejudices. From Bill Bailey came “Flight of the Conchords” and “Tim Minchin” and both have proved to be beyond awesome so I was hoping for big things from Jay. He didn’t disappoint! His songs and musicianship are top drawer, having everyone singing the old “Neighbours” theme tune before slating the current one and putting forward a convincing case, in song, as to why it’s a good thing that John Lennon died! I’ll never forgive him for the song about “Chavs on the Moon” that has been ringing around my head since then. I think Jay’s act would be a lot stronger if he worked a bit more on his inter song banter quite often it felt like he crow barred a conversation in just to get to the next song. It would have been smoother had the banter not felt as forced….

After giggling at Jay Foreman, Wolf and I went for our first pint of the day…