Marti Pellow, The Private Collection Tour, Royal Concert Hall, Glasgow. Mon 11th June, 2018

Support act, Ben McKelvie, confidently strummed his guitar in a style more akin to Billy Bragg than Ed Sheeran, but with less message, and got me going 'why did I get here early for this.'

When Marti took to the stage, hips swaying and shimmering in his black sequined jacket, the audience dripped vaginally with excitement, like a hen night attending a Magic Marti strip show but with more clothes on. I'd look around and think she's wet, she's wet and she's wet. I get it now. That's where they got the name from.

As the coiffured hotties whooped for their hero, rising to their feet for the old tunes, leaving their husbands and boyfriends sitting, they all soaked up every smile and became faint each time he approached the front or sides of the stage. It didn't matter to them that he had altered the arrangements to make them more groovy and less catchy. They were too dazzled by the spotlights reflecting off his teeth.

When he grabbed a granny from the front row and danced with her for an entire song, the whiff of jealousy in the room was pervasive. As the song continued, I began to wonder if the woman had angina as her dancing slowed to the point of boredom and he had to jolly her up with a grin.

Later, when he sat down at the front of the stage and reflected on being 20 years drink and drug-free, telling a heartfelt tale of being in rehab in Memphis, I was struck by the irony of him being interrupted by multiple drunk lassies screeching that they loved him.

He's still got a great voice and has a stage personality that the ladies love but, to me, this was just an okay gig. My wife, however, rated it very highly, her second favourite gig of the year behind Billy Joel. I guess you had to be standing to appreciate it fully.

Doug Stanhope, 02 Academy, Glasgow. Fri 8th June 2018

I wasn't on Facebook three years ago the last time Doug played Glasgow, also at the same venue. That night, five separate brawls broke out and a total of nine people were ejected. I witnessed the comedy of the bouncers asking the people sitting in row 2 and 3 to step into the aisle so they could break up the punchup in the centre between the two rows. This was during Doug's bit on the mentally challenged vs the mentally ill.

Tonight's gig was a lot friendlier and he said so. He put it down to our recent, unusually-fine weather.

But was he funny?

Starting by reading his post-show public apology, he moved onto bits about the penalties for insulting the King of Thailand, gang rapes by weak Indian men, #metoo, racism, ageism and closed with dead babies, so I'd say, 'Yes, he was'. In context.

He goes to places we don't want to go (Indiana) and finds the angles to make his material original and challenging, not to make a point (often), just for a laugh. Because he finds it funny. Expression of the night: "ocular bukkake".

Sure, some of the audience laughed a little too hard, like they were using the opportunity to express a deep-rooted phlegm ball. Sure, the crappy narrow seats meant the beast beside me (not you, Louise) invaded my space giving me temporary hip dysplasia. Sure, a bearded man chatted me up by tapping me on the shoulder and remarking how much he liked my T-shirt (see below) - so what, I'm comfortable in my clothes (plus he wasn't chatting me up).

But the important thing was I had fun, surely the point of going to see a comedian.