Don’t drag Abba into Theresa May’s dead cat dance | Stewart Lee

The PM’s moves to European anthem Dancing Queen are designed to distract from the Brexit car crash

The only available room in Birmingham last Tuesday night was an Airbnb on Edward Street. Usually the Birmingham tourist board are giving them away free, with incentivising jars of Bovril and vouchers for the legendary Hurst Street cafe Mr Egg. “Eat like a king for under a pound!”

But tonight, Birmingham was buzzing. There was a heavy police presence, and Ladypool Road had run out of balti, which I assumed was because I was the opening comedian for local blue-collar Beefheartian post-punk survivors the Nightingales at the Hare & Hounds in King’s Heath.

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