Bored and miserable, Hayridge's lethargically deadpan delivery borders on the depressing.

But her brand of downtrodden ennui is really just a matter of style, rather than being a fully-fledged character like, say, Tony Hancock's. And she's a lot more glamorous.

She starts slow and rambling and, while not actually losing her audience, there's an ever-present danger of them wondering where all the waffle is heading.

Yet, when you least expect it, she'll launch into some brilliant material, with inspired leaps of logic and perfect use of imagery.

Then, just as unexpectedly, we're back into the scatty meanderings again. It's a very mixed bag of a set - when it's good it's brilliant, when it's not, it's baffling.

While a certain amount of apathetic whining do make the persona, too often it seems to come at the expense of jokes - which, when they do roll along, are fantastic.