Stewart Lee, comic, and father of some children. Unless he just makes that up.
I have seen his act a few times. Brilliant each time. Most recently, at the Leicester Square Theatre in 2015. It was a birthday present from Mr. S.
*At the end of this particular gig, he ran to the men’s loos and locked himself in a cubicle (Stewart Lee, not Mr. S), before the audience had finished applauding. He dove off the stage and properly ran. I was sitting at the end of the back row, by the door, and he brushed by me like one of my dad’s whippets. I presume he then listened to what the toilet-users had to say about him. He was in there bloody ages. They took quite a while to clear, what with one of the cubicles being occupied.
Hats off to him. I might start hanging around in the bog. Endless material, probably.
This is the fifteenth square in my patchwork of dads. It is made from discarded books, magazines, postcards and junk mail. From the actual papers, I have not printed or copied anything. There are sixteen squares in total. You can see the whole piece here.
I cut the square from the leaflet below. The photographer is not credited, but I am on the case.
* There is a 1% chance this didn’t happen.