The Consumption. Every bit as awful as the disease. Hacking great lumps of incisive political satire and bloody plegm in your ear. It reminds old men, blind from syphillis, what vaudeville was actually like. So bend over and receieve the cold thermometer of cultured theatre and tasteful sketch as it slides smoothly in, cold against the inner lining of your imagination. Gasp at the lack of prohibtion! Sheik at the outrageous saudi effects! Gape at the frowdy trumpet and her peg leg. So shermolay down, front the topside and go trilobyte over our volacious sidings. In the jig joint rides a dirty daddy. Click to subscribe.
Posted on 2008-02-07
Sketches, lightly marinated in satire, peppered with irreverence, cooked at 380 giggle-watts for two and a half guffaws. Tastes like duck shit.
Posted on 2008-01-25
Mushy sketches, bobbing in the rank chicken stock we left in the downstairs fridge in August. Craig wants his boogieboard, but I'm not going back down there.
Posted on 2008-01-18
Scraping off the least not good parts from last year's splattering of comedy sketches, and rolling them into a ball of summer fun.
Posted on 2007-09-20
Sketches, carefully brewed, then aged in oak barrels. Then rushed at the last minute with 6 bung takes left in and missing 2 fart sounds.
Posted on 2007-09-05
Sketches, torn from the underbelly of episode 1 of season 2, nailed bleeding to a wall. Much like one of those fancy painting things.
Posted on 2007-07-05
The second bit, in which they return after a long break after everyone forgot they existed so they could do a comeback album.
Posted on 2007-05-01
The first bit, in which a forgiving audience watches the boys perform their skits, and laugh at the wrong intervals.
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