I saw Peter Kay in Manchester last night. He's fucking crap. Didn't say one thing that I'd not heard somewhere else.
Brilliantly, he followed an even worse support act: Rick Astley (who still looks about ten). Rick started off terribly, then launched into an unbearably dire medley of songs by Mancunians - Wonderwall, He Ain't Heavy He's My Brother, Kinky Afro, Blue Monday, I Don't Like Cricket then he finished with Never Gonna Give You Up. Shit it was fucking terrible.
I drank all of our interval wine, a whole bottle, before Kay got on stage. I went back for more, then drank that in the first half. By the interval I was completely pissed, dying for a wee and forty quid lighter. I only mention this as my wry smile at realising what I'd done was the most enjoyable part of the whole evening.
What a pile of shit.