At the tender age of nineteen I attempted to enter the world described in this book. It did not turn out nice for me and after thirteen months ‘dying the death’ as a stand-up comic in the northern clubs, I came to my senses and quit the business. Four decades later, however, I still savour those tough times, and relish both the other acts I witnessed and my encounters with Eric Morecambe, Jimmy Clitheroe and even a few of the hard-nosed backroom boys paraded in this bittersweet account. 

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