COMEDY FESTIVAL REVIEW: Milton Jones at De Montfort Hall, Leicester, February 8

Sorry, would you excuse me for a second?

I'm mentally preparing myself for the barrage of abuse I am inevitably about to face once you've read on.

Right, there we go. All set.

You see, I went to see Milton Jones last night and I just didn't find him funny.

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I know, I know, I KNOW: I'm in the minority. The crowd around me couldn't have been chuckling more if Mr Tickle had run in with a huge feather duster and a Blackadder box set.

But I just couldn't join in.

It seems a bit silly, really, because I knew what to expect. But I don't mind TV Milton, I think he's all right. He is funny, when his one liners are put into the context of the latest pee-take on whatever panel show he's on.

But an entire set? No. No, no, no. It just wasn't for me.

He opens as his own doddering granddad but it's the same act, just served in a flat cap and dressing gown.

Milton as Milton is better, but I still don't get the appeal.

You probably think I'm boring, that I have no sense of humour. But I do, honest. I like to laugh, me.

I really enjoyed support act, Chris Martin (no, not that one). He took a few minutes to warm up, but I laughed a lot at him, especially the stuff about vegetarians and Twitter pictures of food and the joke about the alarm clock.

But Milton? Not for me.

Still, he's a TV comedian with sold out shows across the country, so what do I know?