An Englishman, a Scotsman and a Snowman...

...walk into a bar. It was frozen.

No joke. The least Christmassy Christmas night out ever. No balloons, no decorations, no Slade or Roy Wood. And no heating. The boiler in the hall had broken down and they had one solitary 2 bar heater (the red glow in the middle there) trying to keep the December chill out. It failed and we sat with our jackets on most of the night. It was so cold in the gents that when I went for a pee I had to snap it off. No joke.

And the poor (poor as in 'shame for his 800 mile round trip to entertain us for an hour, and poor as in 'shame on him for being not particularly funny') comedian struggled to hold the attention of a snottery-nosed group of less than 60 shivering people. At least it looked like he flogged a couple of his 'not for children' DVDs at the end of his turn before he headed off on his six hour drive back to Weston-Super-Mare.

Looks like we'll be looking at another venue for next year's Christmas bash.