Suffering with one of the worst colds of recent memory, I was in two-minds whether or not to attend tonight's performance. My usual motley crew were also ill and staying well away from any form of civilization, whilst I managed to drag myself up off my arse and clambered into the university's Delph Bar.

After much anticipation amongst the crowd, our compere Danny James strutted on stage like some crazed Jarred Christmas look-alike. And man, he was funny. We were treated to a host of gags, most of which were smartly adlibbed, and which went down extremely well when compared to the repetitious act demonstrated by last week's comperes Matt and Faron.

After some general banter about Berlin, the RAC and McDonald's 'stars', our first act was introduced by woops and cheers from a rather annoying member of the audience. Cue Swedish comic, Henrik Elmer.

Henrik portrayed a twist on the usual observational comedy performed at the venue, basing the majority of his act on compulsions and schizophrenic decisions. He referred back to his gags professionally, and supplied some brilliant one-liners that had the masses in a collective chuckle.

He talked about his lack of friends, performed crazy guinea-pig noises, described his love of travelling, and also depicted a rather detailed description of why he split up with his girlfriend due to 'noises through the walls'. All very funny, and the crowd lapped up his humour like a thirsty dog.

After a short interval, the annoyance of two audience members was beginning to start up again, who were swiftly noticed and pounced upon by our brilliant compere Danny James. After much abuse, the bothersome couple were silenced. But it wouldn't be for long.

Our next act was the comedy-duo Rob Gee and Skatz, an unlikely looking pair who supplied a short set of two acoustically accompanied songs. The first, which depicted their love for 'inflatable women' had the audience in stitches, as did the follow up which rather crudely described the effects of amphetamine abuse.

The latter was particularly clever as it incorporated a series of other artists' songs with malformed lyrics, displaying witty covers of ABBA's 'Take a Chance', Queen's 'Bohemian Rhapsody' and 'Tomorrow' from the musical Annie. The masses loved them and despite being only their second gig, we were collectively impressed. I hope to see them back at the Delph soon: a big thumbs-up and definitely an act to look out for.

Finally, our headlining act Russell Howard appeared with a sense of confidence that made him an instant success. The majority of his set appeared adlibbed, and he incorporated audience participation with a huge sense of wit, style and enthusiasm.

His themes were far and wide, ranging from annoying children on trains to recurring dreams of having sex with his dog. His imagination often went haywire, and I had physical tears streaming down my face as Russell used comparative imagery of two women kissing as coloured animals from the delectable child's game 'Hungry, Hungry Hippos'. Maybe, in his own words, 'you had to be there'.

After continued annoyance from the talkative couple at the front, Russell finished his act by doing a collective whip-around in an empty pint glass and then ordered a taxi live on stage for the aggravating twosome. He was harsh, asking the taxi rank receptionist to send a driver with an 'alcohol problem', and then sent the foolish gents on their way early (probably to avoid them getting a kicking at the end!).

After Russell left the stage, I wiped the tears from my eyes only to have them swiftly reappear during his encore. I now put Russell in my top three comedy acts at the venue, complimented by the legends that are Valentine Fly Guy and Mitch Benn. He was a true professional, and supplied what we had all paid to see.

I laughed so hard I forgot all about my cold, which proves the theory that laughter really is the best medicine. For any doctors reading this week's review, tonight's acts could make you very rich.

Next week we'll be treated to comedic geniuses Sean Collins, Paul Sinha and the hilarious scouse compere Brendan Riley. Once again, it's been emotional. 'I'll see you down the Delph.'