I was watching the tv the other night.
I was watching the tv, at night and there was that Stewart Lee.
On tv, at night, that Stewart Lee.
That Stewart Lee, from those 90s, on the telly, at night.
That comedian Stewart Lee, him off that telly, with his 90s hair.
That quiffy, straggly, indie hair from the 90s, atop Stewart Lee’s smug comedic face.
A comedic yet smug face, beneath that quiff, belonging to 90s TV cult figure Stewart Lee, telling a joke.
A joke, from opera writing Stewart Lee’s slightly smug TV mouth.
That Stewart Lee’s smug, disinterested sounding Brummie mouth, telling a joke, yet not telling a joke from beneath his floppy quiff.
That joke, that may be a joke, that that Stewart Lee wasn’t so much telling from his smug, Brummie mouth but rather burying beneath, not his quiff.
Not his 90s indie quiff, that opera writing, fatter, Stewart Lee but burying, that joke, burying beneath layer after layer of tense repetition.
Oh look, now it’s a sketch with that 90s weak lemon drink man and the curious orange.
Disclaimer – I think that Stewart Lee, that Kevin Eldon, that Paul Putner and that sadly missing Richard Herring are great.