Death of a Cu-

I attended Katie Coxall's funeral online today and was glad to be a part of it.

She died suddenly of cancer on 7th May at just fifty and had such vibrant energy it's hard to process she's gone. Just the loss of her on Twitter is akin to that of a Trump-like silence, only shit. And that's as far as the two can be compared in the same sentence. Katie's tweets had an intelligent bluntness the Great Orange One could only dream of (if a brain that compromised can even dream in the first place).

Katie's talent was as vast and keen-eyed as her dark sense of humour. She was a creature of many hats (if creatures wear hats): an inspired illustrator with an instantly recognisable and brilliantly unique style, who was also a fantastic comic poet. Her sets at Mostly Comedy as mushybees back in the day were tear-streamingly funny. An audience member would hold a large pad aloft and turn the pages at her instruction to reveal a macabre illustration of a celebrity to which Katie would read a short explanatory poem in the style of Pam Ayres; you know, that sort of act. But it was brilliant.

Katie as mushybees plays Mostly Comedy at The George (2009).

Her cousin and best friend read one such poem at today's funeral, which was a great way to put her stamp on proceedings:

When Richard Whitely said goodbye,
He also said, "I'll phone yer".
But the very next day, he passed away.
Nine letter word: pneumonia.

But more than just talent, Katie - formerly Simon - was a great person. A kind, generous, funny, intelligent, sweary git-minx, who's left behind a family (and lots of friends) that loved her to pieces, as anyone with any sense would. That fact she's gone isn't right; it's like a light's gone out. But we're determined to reignite it at Mostly Comedy this year by dedicating the rest of 2021's shows to her while raising money for Garden House Hospice in her name. Because to quote her wise words: "fuck cancer". Fuck it to Hell.

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