Look, I know I'm not Stephen Hawking or Stephen Fry or Stephen Baldwin or any other great learned man but I'm not thick. I'm really not. Am I? No. I'm not. I read books sometimes and I like some subtitled films. I even occassionally understand those books and films. I'm not an expert on...well, anything but I definitely get by. Slightly above average. I know that all reality TV is terrible which is more than most so-called clever people on that there Twitter do. I howled with laughter when the makers of My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding described their deficient endeavour as a documentary. I'm not so stupid that I let that pass. I can't be stupid, OK? I mean, I'm friends with Robin Ince and he's got a science show. If your friend has a science show then you can't be thick. Unless I'm an experiment. Oh God, I might be an experiment. But last night I watched the science show and I think I understood what Simon Singh was talking about and I met Alan Moore without pissing myself and licking him. That must stand for something? Alan Moore isn't going to speak to an idiot, is he? Unless he needs material for his next book, D for DUUUUUUUUUHHHH!
OK, OK, OK. I might not be razor sharp but I didn't know I was thick. Not until the other night when a Frenchman told me he was from Strasbourg. Erm...Isn't that in Germany?
How the fuck do I not know where Strasbourg is? I'm 42 and I have NO IDEA where Strasbourg is. If you asked me where the European Court of Human Rights is, do you know what I'd say? I'd say Strasbourg. I'd say Strasbourg because I KNOW it's in Strasbourg. BUT if you then said to me "Oh really? Where's that then?", I'd be fucked. I mean, I'm sure it's Germany. Yes, Strasbourg is in Germany. Germany or Switzerland or Austria. One of those places.
About a year ago I saw two wasps fucking. At least, they looked like they were fucking. I'm not normally into staring at wasps fucking but I did watch them for a very long time. Too long. The park started to look like a wasp dogging area. I stared at them for ages because I realised that I had no clue how wasps fucked. I didn't know they did fuck. Do they fuck? I still don't know but I remember how thick it made me feel. How can you be in your 40's and not know how wasps fuck? It's pathetic. The great thing is, I wasn't alone. Every single person I spoke to about wasps fucking and my lack of knowledge on the subject either plainly didn't know anything about it either or laughed at me because they wanted to hide the fact that they didn't know anything about it either. Actually, is that a great thing? I don't know how wasps fuck and neither does anyone I know. No, that's not a great thing. I'm just one part of a pig-shit thick splatter of friends.
And it's happened again. I've spoken to a few people about not knowing where Strasbourg is and so far some of them have said that I am completely right; it's definitely in Germany. But some have corrected me ("It's in Sweden", "It's Austria", "I don't think Strasbourg is real. It's like Transylvania, you know?" - that genuinely happened). I mentioned it on the Precious Little podcast and, as well as my co-host James saying it was in Switzerland, people have written to me to say that they have no clue where Strasbourg is either. What is it about this elusive, enigmatic city that baffles us all so? No wonder so much fuck all happens at the Council of Europe, no one knows where the fucker is (Oh, yes. I know that the Council of Europe is in Strasbourg. I'm full of fucking Strasbourg facts. Except one).
The great thing about not knowing something is that you can go and look it up and educate yourself. The terrible thing about being Michael Legge (not that one, the other one) is that I'm a stubborn bastard. I refuse to look it up. I'm 42 years old and I bloody well should know where Strasbourg is. I'm not going to look near an atlas, a globe, a map, a weather forecast or Wikipedia until I remember where Strasbourg is. I mean that Frenchman was from Strasbourg so it should be in France but loads of French people are from Canada and the great American comedian, Bob Hope, is from London and the greatest French singer of all time, Jacques Brel, is from Belgium and the most respected, well-known and loved Italian, Mario, is from Japan so really who the fuck knows? I'm just going to have to remember. Where is Strasbourg?
It is Strasbourg, right? Not Strasburge? Oh, for fuck's sake...
ps Thanks for listening to Mr Blue Sky, the Radio 4 sit-com written by Andrew Collins and featuring me as Sean, a 25 year-old genius pianist. You can find out about it here: http://tinyurl.com/6xod7aa
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