Cleaned myself: 🙂
Monkey see, monkey do: 0.00
Believe in God? Only once i’ve seen her daughter.
I have thrown myself back into work. I have no money, and if I turn up, Roger continues to pay. We’ve seen a little release of pent up demand this week – from vain pricks who’d convinced themselves that they deserved a present for having endured lockdown, so for the moment Roger is full of largesse.
It seems I did send some money to a company that preps adverts for Pearl & Dean. I think, thinking that my job was in jeopardy at the time, I lacked the courage to ask Roger to stump up fees. I’m happy with the way it’s worked out. I can’t spend the money I don’t have, and Roger will reimburse me when the ad airs. Cinemas are slowly returning to normal here. Until then, it’s like having my money in a building society – I will only lose a little bit by having them look after it for me.
Why not? I live in the shed, and it’s the only taste of real life that I get. Were jogging pants equipped with a fly, I may have re-insinuated myself back into home life, but they are not, and so mother got a full-backtal of me arse when I was taking a comfort break in the sink-o-let the other day. I don’t know for sure whether she recoiled at the sight or the lingering stench from the other recent event, but what I do know is that the house seems to be more out of bounds than ever to me, and that she has convinced herself that she’s solved the mystery of the stench in the bathroom. As ever, the complacent and ignorant win out over those of us who want to change the world for the better.
I can at least report that Big Tooth has become a very willing co-producer of the Advent Pageant as we’ve taken to calling it. We’ve written a new scene & re-worked another number – it’s for later in the production, but we’ve decided that we’ll just put together a few set pieces and stitch them all together with some terrible dialogue – like every other musical ever. It goes like this:
Lizard Bob Hope enters stage left and continues his narration. Centre-stage, a tramp lies on a park bench. Lizard Bob begins: “meanwhile, Noel Gallaher is sleeping off another hard night. But this morning, he is woken by a piercing light, stronger than he’s ever known” – a dazzling spotlight picks out Noel alone on the stage. From the darkness, stage right, God appears. He looks like Carson from Downton Abbey.
Shielding his eyes from the light, Noel says, ‘God?’ And Carson-God says, ‘yes son, it’s me. I have chosen you.’
Lizard Bob picks up the narration again telling the audience that Noel asks, why me? And God replies that whereas all the men of the earth are full of sin and wickedness, he is merely a piss-artist, and so is the best of all of them.
God explains to Noel that mankind has ruined everything, not just by creating new diseases that were beyond his own imagination, but by becoming terrorists, which he describes as a terrible fashion. ‘Hold on’ says Noel, he wants to know why the diseases are a surprise to God, and God tells him that they’ve all been invented in Laboratoires Garnier behind his back. Noel says that he knew something was going on there, and God says, ‘No, everyone says that – it’s just a cheap joke amongst drunks, conspiracy theorists, and lazy people. Nevertheless,’ sayeth God, ‘unbeknownst to you all, they actually did.’
‘God!’ says Noel, and God goes, ‘What?’
Embarrassed, Noel replies, ‘sorry God, but what do you want me to do about it?’
Lizard Bob picks it up again: God telleth unto Noel that he’s going to send another flood to wipe out mankind and the animals, so that he can start again. ‘Yeah it’s all gone a bit tits I suppose?’ wonders Noel, and God sayeth unto him, ‘not really. It’s more like deciding to have a new hairstyle, and doing it again from square one.’
God laughs then tells Noel that he invented the phrase ‘Square One.’
Lizard Bob goes on: it maketh Noel wonder, how is he going to communicate with God from now on, and God doth say unto him, ‘I’ll send you texts onto the gable end of brick-built supermarkets – not the pre-fab ones.’ But Noel, who is afeared at the word of God says, ‘how will I understand them Lord?’
God says that he will give him a crash course in Aramaic while he sleeps, through his dreams, and that he’ll download the first module – a guide to symbols and pronunciation, tonight at 00 hours GMT. Or British Summer Time, he adds, ‘I get those mixed up.’
‘Just to get you started,’ God says, ‘before you’ve mastered my tongue, I’ll give you a brief outline of the project,’ and he tells Noel to build a big ship to house all the world’s animals, and to get himself a wife because he is to be the father of mankind, a bit like the way Adam once was, ‘which unfortunately didn’t work out’ God adds. ‘I know I promised no more floods too,’ he says, ‘but that was then, this is now.’
‘Besides, I want you to make the world a right place for me to send my daughter.’
‘Jesus!’ exclaimeth Noel. ‘That’s right brother,’ says God, ‘It’s pronounced the same way. She’s like her brother but she’s got a bit of a nasty streak too, which I think will work better. I’m going to send her to the South Pole, which should shake them up a bit,’ then he laughed his head off for ages. You should go and have a look at it while you’re on your arc – for that is what it is to be called, after all you’re going to be on it for ages.
God signs off by saying that the flood will start at Skelmersdale in 140 days, and advises Noel to stock up on Ind Coope’s Long Life lager.
One last thing, Noel wants to know, ‘how will I find a wife?’ God says that he looks so comfortable on the streets that he should perhaps go busking to see if he can draw someone from the crowd.
God exits stage left in front of Lizard Bob. The curtains are drawn back and Noel is in a street scene busking.
When I go on Top of the Pops, I’m going to wear me tangerine shirt.
My mother is a brother in the Mujahideen
My sister works for Boko Haram
My daddy plays the oboe for the PLO
And me Aunty has grown up to be a man
Obladi, oblada, life goes on. What the hell is going on?
I’m a little lady in my heart of hearts
Trapped inside the body of a man
I want to be the fifth wife of a militant
Inside a tent connected to a frying pan
Obladi, oblada life has stopped. I think I’ll pop down to the shops
repeat til fade …