THE THEATRE GUIDE DOG dishes the hurt with one poor and the glory with the other. But you only have yourselves to blame.
You’ve worked awfully hard this term, and THE THEATRE GUIDE DOG is here to give you treats.
THE THEATRE GUIDE DOG faces her critics.
Need some good misery to roll around in? Fear not, THE THEATRE GUIDE DOG will point the way.
THE THEATRE GUIDE DOG has an important lesson for you all this week.
THE THEATRE GUIDE DOG is tired of all your crying.
THE THEATRE GUIDE DOG leads you safely through the fornicating minefields of V-Day.
All this snow is making THE THEATRE GUIDE DOG act a bit funny.
THE THEATRE GUIDE DOG growls with rare approval at some ambitious theatre this week.
THE THEATRE GUIDE DOG delves ever deeper into delusion and denial.
THE THEATRE GUIDE DOG decides it’s time for giving some awards to some plays.
WEEK EIGHT THEATRE IS UNDER OCCUPATION. A People’s Bark will announce the week’s scheduled performances.
She shall be great, and shall be called THEATRE GUIDE DOG IV, and she shall reign over Cambridge theatre for ever, and of her kingdom there shall be no end. Amen.
THE THEATRE GUIDE DOG prophesies theatre to come. And is having suspicious food cravings. WHAT COULD THIS MEAN?
THE THEATRE GUIDE DOG heralds the end of the world (though not for the first time). Theatre too.
THE THEATRE GUIDE DOG mourns the loss of Theatrical salvation for Cambridge, while giving you a rundown to what’s worth going to this week.
THE THEATRE GUIDE DOG shares her tragic past, but only because it has something to do with this week’s theatre. She’s not some kind of sop, you guys.
THE THEATRE GUIDE DOG is the brains behind the Chancellor election. And the week’s theatre – bitch of many talents.
THE THEATRE GUIDE DOG softly growls her way through Theatre Yet To Come. This week with added louche.
In case you missed it in the paper, here’s the fresh-look THEATRE GUIDE DOG to scoff you through the maze of Cambridge theatre while you’re still dazzled by the lights.
Everyone’s favourite dramatic canine has got a punning and questionable haircut and is here to teach you what Cambridge has to offer the Edinbrugh Festival Fringe.
THE THEATRE GUIDE DOG tires of this award-giving. Take your shiny prizes and go.
THE THEATRE GUIDE DOG barks out the winners of the GOLDEN PRIG awards, then falls to heel while you vote for the rest.
THE THEATRE GUIDE DOG gets ready to nail Theatre’s results to the metaphorical Senate House of your computer screens. You can help with the marking.
THE THEATRE GUIDE DOG tells the truth about May Week, then shows you where to go if you want to get lied to.
THE THEATRE GUIDE DOG knows you can’t think very hard after the steely prongs of Tripos. Let him gently nudge you towards the worthy theatre to come. Best enjoyed tipsy.
THE THEATRE GUIDE DOG holds the fort while you scribble away at your scripts. A few people are still using the other kind of script this week, and here they are.
Everyone’s favourite Thespian canine puts the G back in Guide-Dog in anticipation of an admittedly sparse week of Theatre.
THE THEATRE GUIDE DOG read a book. A book he wrote. But not to impress you. He also talks about the week’s Theatre. But not to impress you.
THE THEATRE GUIDE DOG knows what you’re up to. But he’ll play along, for now. Loyal, right?
The newly-sceptered THEATRE GUIDE DUKE holds audience with the serfs of Cambridge and dispenses infallible wisdom ex cathedra.
Theatre’s back, and so is THE THEATRE GUIDE DOG. He spent the vacation revising biting and snarling – reader caution advised.
THE THEATRE GUIDE DOG honours the worthiest shows and thespians of Lent 2011, as voted by you. We’ve even got a new curtain.
THE THEATRE GUIDE DOG unveils the first round of illustrious winners, each of whom receive a GOLDEN PRIG award, voted by your betters.