The Weasel arrives in Melbourne. Kick back to the early nineties, put on a tie-dyed shirt and start squeezing the ju-ice.

Shore has the ultimate history in stand-up comedy; his father was comedian Sammy Shore, and his mother Mitzi owned the world famous Comedy Club in Los Angeles. Literally from birth, Shore was surrounded by the creme de la creme of comedic performers, and it seems that at least some of this has rubbed off on him after 30 years.

His style of comedy can only be described as offensive. Really offensive. It’s clear that Shore is open to any topic, regardless of taboo. From his in-depth instructional section on giving a good blow job to his rather candid opinions on child porn, Shore is a master at shock tactics, disgusting his audience whilst simultaneously keeping them on the edge of their seats.

For someone who has fallen from the height of popularity within Generation Y, Shore has a great humility and understanding of his position. Quick to take a self-reflexive stab at his former career, he uses his accomplishments and failures to his advantage, with some great material and an absolutely first-rate performance.

With great delivery, offensive substance with slightly too much emphasis on sex, Shore entertains like a creepy uncle that goes too far. You want to laugh at him, but you’re also worried about what that makes you.