To die in your own wee, or on your own wii?

I bet Martin McDonagh never thought there'd be a Wii when he wrote that brilliant passage in A Skull in Connemara about dying in a potty of wee.

I brought Kitty and her friend to see it tonight. A small little company. A rickety stage set up in an abandoned shop. Twenty five people in the audience, scrunched up around the stage. Potting compost and fragments of fake bone flying all over us.

Great.

When the wee bit started, I thought the two girls were going to choke they laughed so much.

Me, I was the only person who laughed at the Eamon Andrew jokes. And the Dana jokes. And the bumpy slides in Leisureland in Galway sketch.

But that was alright.

You're in your own little world in the theatre anyway.

Well done to Obstructed View Plays for taking it on with probably tuppence ha'penny worth of funding. They did a great job of it.