Early Saturday evenings in the Parrot houshold follow a familiar course. Mrs P parks herself on the sofa to watch whichever celebrity show is on at the time. Making an Arse of Yourself on Ice, Cricketers in Sequins or some folk you’ll never hear of again once they’ve had their 15 minutes of fame.
Me, I slope off to the PC for more cerebral research, like the “Bounceometer” for instance.
That changed tonight. I’d had the rugby match on the telly (bloody hell Jonny, Jason and Harry, you all played a blinder) and when it finished, “When Will I Be Famous” crept on. It was brilliant — a dog act, a vent, close-up magic, a bloke on a bike, a cortortionist and the obligatory cute singing kid.
But the best was Bruce Airhead. Cracking finish when he appeared out of the burst balloon in an Elvis wig and suit. Now that’s what I call entertainment.