substitute

Sunday 6th June 2010 10:56 PM

There's no excuse for the recent lack of wordage on this website, especially in light of my recent release from two potentially onerous and time consuming tasks. Despite my fiscal rectitude, sound internal policies, and charming doorstep manner, I failed to secure a seat at last month's general election, and although it's a slap in the face for democracy and the chance for real change, it means a lot less government-forming for me.

Also, despite a deeper mystical appreciation of the esoteric truths underlying football as a solar myth, and twelve goals from midfield this season, I failed to secure a seat on the plane to South Africa for this year's World Cup. It seems that the England manager, Fabio Cornetto, has gone for Aaron Lennon and Sean Wright-Phillips, so I'm afraid it's me and poor young Theo Walnutt who miss out on the trip. Although my non-selection could be seen as a slap in the face for comic fancy, and the chance of a new-look England team, it gives me a great chance to spend the summer concentrating on crosswords and pottering.

In many ways it's quite a relief, as I've heard that Fabio is a strict disciplinarian with far right-wing views, and I'd worry that we wouldn't get on. Although I've heard that he sometimes lets Wayne Rooney smoke a bong before friendly matches, I don't imagine he'd take kindly to me rolling up nerve-soothing fat ones of the local Durban poison every time we get to a penalty shoot-out. I've also heard that he insists that all the players eat boiled ham before a match, whether they like it or not. Well, I'm sure I'd like it not, and because I aspire to an ethical system that values truth over expediency, I'd have to tell him, and even if that resulted in me being force-fed by burly Italians, I'd still go on to tell him that Sir Stanley Matthews, who played top-class football until the age of fifty, and whose England career spanned twenty three years, was a life-long vegetarian.

(Sir Stanley was one of the surprise names I got when I googled 'famous vegetarians' in search of site-specific gags for an upcoming gig in a veggie cafe. The other surprise name was Jesus. I could have sworn he had a brief, but very successful fish restaurant on the shores of Lake Galilee. The fact that he fed five thousand people with five loaves and two fishes suggests that it could have been one of the earliest examples of nouvelle cuisine.)

All this recent summer unburdening has enabled me accept the late offer of a gig at this years Glastonbury festival. Last year I declined the engagement because I was still sulking about the previous head-liner being Jay 'What's this got to do with peace, love and understanding?' Z. However, I've matured quite a lot over these last twelve months, and if Stevie Wonder, Toots and the Maytals, Willie Nelson and Dr John can forgive and forget and move on, then so can I. If it turns out that I'm an emergency replacement for the lead singer of U2, Nobbo, I might get a helicopter ride and the chance do some over-long anthemic choruses on the pyramid stage. That'd be nice.

NEWSFLASH

I've just heard on radio 5 that Rio Ferdinand's injured his knee and is out of the World Cup, and is going to headline the Glastonbury festival on the Friday night, instead of Nobbo or me. Even though I'm absolutely gutted at missing out on playing the pyramid stage, and a chopper ride, it would be cute if I end up replacing Rio in Rustenburg, or Rustenburg in Rio, although I suspect that Fabio, who's not known for his love of surreal comic fancy, will probably go for Michael Dawson.

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