When Dylan Moran walks out on to the Playhouse stage he is set against a bright blue backdrop that magnifies his equally bright blue shirt. The effect matches the comedian's sparkling mood, a mood that is at odds with the disparagement he's about to let forth.
This is a home gig for the Irishman (who lives near Edinburgh) and the knock-on effect is a relaxed comic and some great opening local humour. "Edinburgh is like the start of a wedding..." is all he needs to say to get laughs. We know what's coming; we're giggling with anticipation that Glasgow is the messy end of one where "someone has written on your leg in mascara and you have beans in your hair."
Moran proceeds to make characteristically broad and absurd brush strokes over his two already major themes; our need to believe in something, be it politics, religion, love or money, and the need to feed the beast inside of us all who always wants more.
"People are too numerous to hate," asserts Moran, making the most conclusive statement he can to house his dismissal of life in the year "two thousand and phuff". Neither science, nor religion, nor especially politics help him to make sense of the world.
With Moran, though, there is no designated route or answer, no one punchline destination, just a series of sumptuous images throughout the journey.