The Kings Arms
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I just spoke to my mum, who asked me, “Are you going out tonight?” “No, I went out last night to see a show at the Kings Arms. You know, the cat pub” “Oh yes. How was it?” .”it was really funny, I haven’t laughed quite like that in a while.” “Ah excellent – what
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Coffee and iPhones and printers and festivals and hammocks and hypothetical letters. The Aldi middle aisle? Maybe, but also just a few of the topics that singer/songwriter, satirist, Chris Tavener treated us to at that glorious little theatre space upstairs at The Kings Arms last night. Thanks to my outrageous decision to spend the first
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Three weeks since my last trip into theatre land. I’ve been gadding in foreign climes, being all la-di-dah and that. And I’m back. And I’m back at the ultimate cat pub, The Kings Arms. Coming in a close second is the Blind Beggar in the East End, synonymous not only with me going on two
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Wasteman was. a. riot. And to think I nearly missed it? For some reason I’m terrible with Instagram direct messages. I seem to have a blind spot in even seeing them but thank goodness I finally found Joe Leather’s invitation to check out the show. This morning I signed upto Threads so let’s see how
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I won’t repeat my love for fringe theatre all over again (I’ll just casually leave this here – Review – Talk to Yourself at The Kings Arms and actually probably will repeat it in this review anyway). One reason for my love of fringe theatre which I’m not going on about again (am) is the
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I was going to start this post off with the sentiment, I love Manchester. It’s true, I’ve got a t-shirt with it on and everything. But to do so, I would have committed the cardinal sin of referring to a ‘happening’, an ‘event, an ‘occurrence’ as being in Manchester rather than Salford. I do this
honorary manc 