Lost Words

I have lost my notepad. I’m fairly sure it was left at Old Rope on Monday night but on calling the pub and asking if they had found an A4 lined notepad, they responded with ‘no.’ Then they asked ‘what were you asking about again?’ and I said ‘an A4 lined notepad’ to which they said ‘no’ again, dashing any hopes that their lack of listening had opened a tiny gap of hope. I’m fairly sure a notepad was found, or possibly handed in, and promptly thrown in the bin. It didn’t look important. A WH Smith’s standard pad, with scribbles all over a third of it, and a few pages at the back, with vast gaps of empty dead pinstripe tree in the middle. That is where lined paper comes from. Trees that have been invited to a lounge suit event. Fact. I knows the science. Anyway, so now several weeks of scribbling and brain racking are disposed somewhere in a bin. I hope that’s where they are if they aren’t coming back to me. I worry they’ve got into the hands of someone who might misuse them.

Someone who will misinterpret all the unjoined spider gram webs of words, someone who will see my poorly construed ideas about getting the World’s Strongest Men competitors to remove the residents of Dale Farm and assume I am taking sides. I wasn’t. I just found it funny. Someone who will read the words ‘midget coke dib dab frenzy’ and think its part of a routine more than some words I found funny when putting them altogether. Someone who might make an entire routine out of all the shit that’s on there. That’s the biggest problem. That pad was in no way filled with gold. More fool’s gold. At a first glance one might assume these are beginnings of genius, but to be honest its all the shit I’ve filtered out over the last few weeks when my brain’s been dead.

Many years from now it might get found in a rubbish dump by historians and they will mark it as an undiscovered (except it will have been discovered) script of the Douieb, put it in a glass case and people from all round the world will coo at it in the V&A museum. Then someone like Eoin Colfer will try and put it together and release it as my next solo show. Everyone will hate it. No one will find ‘midget dib dab coke frenzy’ funny and my entire reputation will be destroyed, all my fans will kill themselves at my fall from grace and the entire infrastructure of the world will collapse. So basically, if you know where my notepad is please let me know so I can stop all that from happening. Ta.


And to think I was going to write about where that £5bn should go back into the economy…..