Hunk of burning love...

Some of you will know that Wednesday night was spent in the company of Elvis.  Not the real one of course, but a chap who does an act which incorporates some rather rude jokes and some cracking Elvis songs.  If you want to book him (I wouldn't recommend him for children's parties before you reach for the laptop) you can find this Hunk of Burning Love at http://www.alvin.co.uk/

The show was held in a local pub, and as I had two spare tickets, I coerced daughter number two and her best friend Lucy Loo to come along for a giggle.  I knew that they weren't really interested in the show as such, but when I mentioned the words 'Fish and Chips' their ears pricked up.  It wasn't till I mentioned the word 'Free' that they fully committed.  Once a student, and all that...

I wasn't sure what they were expecting really.  Alvin, who I have seen three times before, and who is on good acquaintance with Mrs Jangles and Miss R, is on the wrong side of middle-aged.  He is follicly challenged, so a black shiny wig is needed to start to build the impression of Elvis.  Add to the wig a black shirt and trousers, and Elvis is back with us once again.  And boy, can he sing, belting out all the old favourites. 

But as I said before, Alvin's USP  is that he tells rather bawdy jokes in between the songs.  I understood some of them, but daughter number one and Lucy Loo seemed to get every punch line, every suggestive glance and all the pelvis-thrusting moves.  They thoroughly enjoyed themselves, and the pinnacle of their night was when Alvin changed into his unforgiving white jumpsuit, encrusted with worthless rhinestones and fringing.  To be honest, it left very little to the imagination, and I was rather grateful that we were sitting behind him, as we only had to contend with a couple of gyrating buttocks.  Those sitting in front of him were subjected to the full frontal, which to be honest with you might have put the two girls off roast dinners for the foreseeable future.

But what made me sit up and take notice was the conversation between Alvin's two sets.  The pub were playing some great music, which took Miss R and I straight back to the discos of the 1980's. 

'I really miss dancing', I said, 'It's a shame they don't have discos purely for older ladies like us.  No men allowed, just us girls dancing around our handbags and having a fine old time'.

Do you remember the discos?  They always had a hatch where you could buy stale crisps and a flat coke.   I would imagine that Old Lady Discos would have a similar hatch selling Prosecco, but there would be extra items you could also buy...

Tena Lady pads and Rennies I would imagine... 

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