"What do you call a judge with no thumbs? Justice Fingers. What's black and white and eats like a horse? A zebra. Where does Saddam Hussein keep his CDs? In Iraq."

Those rapid-fire gags are for those of you who are not fortunate enough to be among the 4,500 people or so who will see Peter Kay during his three-night stay in the city.

Tickets at £20-a-head sold out within four-hours for his Barbican gigs, and expectant faces met the Bolton boy wonder as he bounded on stage last night.

But no pub impression or half-remembered jokes can do justice to a confident comic genius who is riding the crest of a wave, and taking time to enjoy the view.

This was gig number 123 for Kay, who turns 30 this year, but the former barman, toilet roll packer and mobile disco DJ is still bursting with contagious enthusiasm.

His days as an odd-job man around the north west are paying off because he is the ultimate story teller. A wide-eyed observational comic fuelled by everyday events.

The show is episodic, with a wedding disco, Sunday afternoons, dunking biscuits and taxi conversations all covered in telling depth and told with irresistible charm.

Bullseye with Jim Bowen, anyone? If only I'd known this was going to form the base of an inspired ten-minute routine I would have paid more attention all those years ago.

There's plenty of familiar material for fans of Phoenix Nights and some of the material has changed little since he was doing That Peter Kay Thing on Channel 4.

Yet, thankfully, for all the hype, it's still a low-tech performance with poor dancing, ad-lib singing and plenty of knee-sliding across the stage.

It would be sensible to ask how such straightforward humour can send more than a thousand adults into near hysteria. But therein lies the genius of this man.

Updated: 11:26 Friday, March 07, 2003