mostly david ephgrave

While editing photos for July's Hitchin Mostly Comedy Festival today, I inadvertently turned the comedian Daniel Cook into the sleeve of The Miracle by Queen.   Maybe this is how album covers are invented: by chance events. Perhaps Freddie was fiddling around with a primitive version of Photoshop in 1989 (or an airbrush?) when he accidentally morphed all his band members’ heads into a monster four-person amalgam. Either that, or Queen genuinely started life as conjoined quadruplets that were separated by innovative surgery, and that’s in fact the miracle the album title’s referring to; let’s face it (or four-face it): they’d have to be incredibly fortunate to survive the operation when you consider the nature of their overlap; they've barely got a pair of eyes between them. I like to imagine it was Anita Dobson who performed the operation, as the waiting list was too long for it to be done under the NHS. Speaking of Dobson, I find it ...

I just read that June Whitfield and Julie Walters were made Dames in the Queen's Birthday Honours List, which is excellent. While Julie Walters is commonly regarded as an exceptionally versatile actress, June Whitfield is perhaps a little underrated. The breadth of her career since the 1950s is pretty astounding, and she always stands out in whatever she’s in, whether playing the uptight nurse in The Blood Donor or Edina’s mum in Absolutely Fabulous. She radiates class and never pulls focus; the consummate comic foil to the likes of Terry Scott, Jennifer Saunders and Tony Hancock. She also still looks fantastic. She’s - get this - 91, but you’d never believe it, as she’s as energised and as sharp-as-a-pin as ever; yes, that’s right: she’s my old-lady crush. That said, I also love Julie Walters. It’s the spark behind her eyes when she's performing comedy that gets me, like she's taking her performance to the edge of anarchy and dares...

While watching that bastion of Saturday night entertainment ‘The National Lottery: In It To Win It’ yesterday, I inadvertently came up with my own joke. A contestant called Anthony was in Dale’s Red Area at the time – no comment – who had to get the following question right to be released: The answer, of course, was Corgi, which gave me a sudden burst of inspiration that led to this:   My God, my synapses were firing last night. This tweet was of note as, despite being a comedian, I don't really write jokes; not in the literal sense, at least. I’ve only written three in the past , which is probably why I’m still relatively unknown (or known only by my relatives). The reason for my zero-to-none gag productivity is simple: I don’t like them. I tire of them very easily. The odd pun or two is fine in its place, but a straightforward joke will more likely provoke a groan from me than a laugh, as it’s too obv...

I’d pull the same face as the Queen if I’d seen so many Trooping The Colours. She’s attended all bar one since her reign began, plus a good few before. That’s a lot of times to watch the same procession. The novelty must have worn off in the late 1950s. It’s not much of a birthday celebration if it happens every year. No wonder she has two of them. It must be hard to feign interest. The last eighty-eight years must be a blur of red, gold and black. They probably all roll into one. The faces beneath the bearskins may have changed through the decades, but not so much that she’d notice. I bet she longs for variety a little once in a while. If a guard’s hat falls off or a horse shits in the square it must feel like a blessed release. Here's hoping Prince Phillip adds his own sotto voce commentary to spice things up.