MAD hair, wild shirts and scattergun one-liners is the general impression most people have of panel show regular Milton Jones - and by and large that's exactly what you get on stage.

But somehow there is a little bit of structure to the Milton Jones Is Out There marathon tour that runs to the end of April.

It's loosely based on broken Britain, but luckily soon degenerates.

And while the utterly absurd Jones doesn't seem to embrace audience participation in the style of some other comics he does react to shouts and weird laughs and it all becomes part of the show.

As ever with Jones it's all traditionally low-tech with a few scribbled cartoons on the big screen and the voice of his supposed PR woman excitedly offering him TV slots.

But it's the fast-paced, completely bonkers, how-does-he-think-of-that lines that we've mostly come to hear - even if he does have to pause occasionally to allow the slower members of the audience to catch up.

He doesn't disappoint: chillaxing equals putting a tomahawk in the fridge; the diabetic terrorist group that is called choc-Isis; the day he spent putting a new lock on the front of his house to thwart burglars arriving by barge; that Ed Sheeran is a rural hairdresser.

He doesn't seem on absolutely top form - it is the very early days of this tour after all - and it was certainly short - we were back in the car way before 10pm, but quantity isn't everything and the quality certainly shone through.

Who else would describe his wife's disappointment, after they spent 20 minutes looking at trees in a Somerset orchard, when she realised it wasn't the apple watch she had anticipated?

Or that pushing Donald Trump into wet cement would set a bad president?

Sterling support came from the baby-faced Chris Stokes.