Finally got around to watching Samoa Joe vs. Kenta Kobashi, the 2005 Wrestling Obsever Newsletter's match of the year and possibly the most hyped match of the past decade. Ring of Honor are the most successful of all the US indy groups, and have succeeded in attracting a number of stars from Japan to perform. Kenta Kobashi is one of the best wrestlers of all time (though if we're talking the big four from All Japan, I will always be a Kawada fan) and at present, with a career revival while his contemporaries have slowed down, is probably the biggest name is Japan. This date marks only the second match Kobashi had in America in that career, and is by far the most high profile of his matches abroad.

Samoa Joe is the top guy in Ring of Honor, and is the natural opponent for the visitor. It could be realistically argued he is the top US heavyweight worker at that moment in time, and with his size and hard-hitting style, is able to meet the older, more celebrated Kobashi on equal ground. Sensibly, the commentators remain silent throughout the match, as there is nothing they could say that the rapid crowd wasn't saying much more effectively: Kobashi's entrance hit the Reincarnated Christ level of audience approval.

This is a simple match, built as an epic heavyweight contest where both men are searching for that knockout blow. Joe starts strongest, delivering several viscious kicks and slaps, while Kobashi retaliates with chops to the chest and side of the neck. Joe has two largely dominant sections in this match - the first near the beginning where Joe lands a greater number of strikes on Kobashi, including a sickening-sounding enziguri kick to the back of Kobashi's head. The second is in the middle, where Joes uses a wider variety of moves and attacks, culminating in an STF submission hold where Kobashi battles to get to the robes, and Joe keeps finding ways of stopping him. Kobashi stops the momentum with first of two nasty looking head-drop suplexes.

At this point it becomes apparent that while Joe was leading the offence, he was not close to winning, as Kobashi comes back with an INSANE combination of probably 100 chops, leaving the rights side of Joe's chest and neck a hideous purple colour. Joe is basically done at this point, and Kobashi needs to find the final winning blow. Joe keeps trying to get back into the match with more strikes, but after one more suplex where Joe lands on his head, and a blocked lariat, Kobashi hits his own lariat for victory.

The selling is really great, with each man slowing over the course of the match, managing quick bursts of offence when necessary but not being able to maintain the pace and (crucially) demonstrating the adverse effects of this flurries. Going into the final stretch, Joe sells every strike, and bumps huge for the final lariat. The match is elevated by the crowd reaction as much as the wrestling, which while objectively is not a actual positive, makes watching twice as enjoyable. The match is not perfect by any means - Kobashi's offence is limited by his age and past injuries and sections of the middle relies on big spots too much. But it feels momentous and spectacular, and I don't finish watching it feeling the hype has excessively exceeded the actual match. Unusual, considering these are the fans that chant "This is awesome" after the first three strikes, and "match of the year" after everything else.

All done with my Masters. Come check back in early July to find out how I did.

Tuesday was Intrusion - first time I've been since last year. Certainly not the first time I've been out since I moved to Oxford. Oh no no no. Ridiculous notion. Good night, though there was more electronica than fun goth and industrial. I think I may have given Tom a mild surprise with my pretty makeup.

Wednesday was Imps social. So far there is a lack of photos and stories of depravity. There was, however, two young dead pigs to eat.

That is all.

If anyone would like to be outside the exam schools at 12.30pm tomorrow, some seconds after I sit my final Oxford exam, I will probably come and meet you.

I did mean to say that Friday was an excellent night, my own disappointment aside. The important thing was the money, not the individuals of course, and from that perspective, I am happy to have been involved in it.

I had a frustrating gig at Stand Up For Darfur last night. I don't think it was nerves (though you probably couldn't tell from the unintentional frantic pacing across the stage which I really can't explain) but about half way in I went blank. Nothing. I couldn't even recall my emergency backup jokes. I managed to bring it back around when I remembered what I was doing, but for a good few seconds (and they felt lengthy) I was lost. Awful feeling.

The reaction to my set was a little muted as well, though I don't think it fell all that flat. Obviously my own patchy performance was a major contributing factor to this, and coming on and just telling some jokes after Lorenzo's show-stopping sketches also didn't help. I also never felt any connection between me and the audience, and is something I will need to work out. My act should work better if we come together in a kind of "you know this is dumb, I know this is dumb, but being dumb is OK" type of feeling. If I am not charming and likeable or the audience start to feel that this isn't worth their time it'll go badly.

Things to do next time: Stand still, stay calm, don't think too hard, smile.

Cannabis causes harm. Anybody who says otherwise is lying. However, in 2006, alcohol related deaths hit over 8,000. That's just deaths. Not injuries or social problems, just the number of people killed last year due to alcohol drinking. I can't even find any information on cannabis related deaths. The one thing I'm sure about is that if there are any, they have a higher rate of self-infliction than alcohol and tobacco. Most of this is likely skunk-related, rather than the weaker stuff that is more commonly used.

There are 2 million regular cannabis smokers in the UK, so its not as if the smaller number is entirely caused by lower participation. All I would like is a bit of consistency. You want to ban all harmful drugs, then do it. I have never used illegal drugs, I've never smoked, I'm not interested in alcohol, so I wouldn't care. But surely a better solution is to allow individuals to make their own choices about what they do and help ensure they understand the long-term risks. Most drinkers don't drink themselves to an early grave, we provide a safety net for the ones that do, and prosecute those whose use affects others. Treating cannabis similarly would make general use safer and help the police waste less time on non-offences. Furthermore, I've always believed treating it as as illegal as stronger, more socially destructive drugs does more to increase gateway hard drug usage than it prevents.

Things to do before you die. Not while you're alive, but before you die. As the precious seconds tick away, tick, tick, tick, tick, quickly, quickly.

Had a gig Saturday that was just slightly the wrong side of disaster - outdoors at the Magdalen punts party in a meadow with a barbeque and a bouncy castle was not conducive to people paying me any attention. Bless the six people who were friends of Lucy Imp for sitting there and giggling at appropriate intervals, but most people really weren't into it, and I got no momentum. And I need momentum for my act to work.

As it was, I got the biggest laugh from some joke someone else made to their friends while not listening to a joke I made, which was really uncomfortable because for a second I thought I'd got my first decent reaction. I suppose, if I was more experienced, I would have abandoned set and tried to get people interested by ad-libbing and interacting. But that may have been even worse and desperate, so I just put my head down, did some jokes, didn't leave much pause for the lack of laughter to become too apparent, and took my £20.

£20 for not being entertaining. I should have done this before.

In conclusion, the Revues of Oxford and Durham were good and the Footlights of Cambridge were totally forgetable.

Durham's bit was packed full of the kind of trendy popular surrealism that I enjoy but can get a little samey after, say, an hour. There were some excellent sketches though, with the final one as two colonialist recounting their river boat story being the best ("Jesus didn't have arrows in his hand", "He had nails"). The influence of Ricky Gervais is kind of incredible.

Even now, I can not remember one standout Footlights sketch. Their scenes meandered without an actual purpose, but not in an anarchic Python (or "good") way. Best thing was the opening MC with his conscience bit - that's not a good thing.

The Revue impressed me by actually building up stories and scenes in their sketches, something Durham don't do, preferring instead to build around wierd quirks, gags or outrageous characters. The park bench sketch was beautiful, without any gags or punchline, and was completely absorbing. I still love the Welsh cavern tour sketch, and thought the Hitler sketch was great. The end started to drag a lot until the finale - I do not like the Stalin sketch, regardless of how many references are thrown in, and the same can be said for the Roald Dahl skit and the Derren Brown one - which was utterly fantastic and rescued the show from what could have otherwise been a tepid ending. It was atually quite a long finale, with the chat around the table, before lauching into, almost out of nowhere, a song about Condi Rice exactly over the top enough to bring the whole room to ovation and remind everyone how good Revue comedy can be. King-sized.