Tuesday, 21 December 2010


Yo ho ho ( ice n' snow) ho ho (accidents) ho ho (travel chaos)ho ho ho !.......Were in a state of suspense at the moment as the 'little'un's skiing in Italy on a school trip. Will she get home to Heathrow on Thursday, or is it chrimbo in an Italian airport. We shall see!
Anyhow youse lot ,bracing yourself for the debauched sinful overindulgence as you force food n drink into your tortured body over the next fortnight sprawled in front of the telly. Ah you cant beat a good traditional christmas..(Brrrppp!....hiccc...ooops ,well we gotta start sometime!)....I hope you have a 'good un' and we'll carry on where i left off ,if we manage to survive until the 2000 n' 11.

Tuesday, 14 December 2010


I remember going into work at the hallowed halls of LIVERPOOL POLYTECHNIC and being told ,"Hey 'ave yer 'ear about JOHN LENNON getting 'is 'ead blown off by some nutter in New York?"....."Yer jokin'!"....So being the sentimental scousers we are we spent the morning in the canteen talking about it ,then pissed off to the boozer, to spend the rest of the day talking about it. We got 'hammered'. We had a good day ,sorry about Lennon and that but 'life goes on ', and 'its your round.' But LENNON N' THE BEATLES was the main topic of conversation and the general concensus was that "Well ,that F***ks up the re-union, then!". But it was an astounding day ,generally ,nobody could really believe it. I'd only bought DOUBLE FANTASY the previous day.

They had a memorial on the steps of ST GEORGES HALL, thousands were there ,but i lost count the number of times they had us all singing IMAGINE. Because of that day i still hate that bloody song. But still it was the thought that counts. Thirty years ,jeez ,thirty years on and LENNON would've been a 70 year old man. He may never grow old ,but i know i'm bloody feeling it. Ironically ,he must be reading this blog as 'MERRY CHRISTMAS, WAR IS OVER' has just started on the radio, its one of the first chrimbo songs i've heard ,i've managed to avoid the onslaught which no doubt will hit any day now.

I've been reading a few magazines about LENNON and it seems that him and PAUL MACARTNEY were on good terms for most of the time and that the BEATLES had 'messed around'in studios together on occassions which was nice to consider after all the press about the 'supposed bad blood'. And there was talk ,by LENNON of coming home to LIVERPOOL, basically to show the family 'His home.' That would've been interesting. Ah well! life goes on , leaving some behind, normally the good 'uns, but the nutjobs seem to survive, sadly. Chapman Lennons killer is trying to get released ,as hes served his time, he wont last 30 seconds outside


About 15 years ago , i was sitting on a train going down to London to a cartoonist piss up, at the CARTOONIST PUB . As i was sitting on the train i was doing a little pencil work on one of a set of greetings cards we were making at the time ,and making a fair bit of money from ...Ah the good ol' days. As i got off the train an old fellah came up to me and asked if i was a cartoonist. I told him i was and we started talking and had a coffee. He had always enjoyed doodling and sketching and had been watching me on the train, but didnt want to bother me. I told him, "Not to be so daft n' i'll be glad to be interuppted." It turned out, he was a survivor from AUSCHWITZ. His name was LEON GREENMAN and he was an English man who'd been caught up and thrown into the camp with his family. They were exterminated virtually upon arrival and Leon was put to work. He survived Auscwitz ,BUCHENWALD AND THE INFAMOUS DEATH MARCHES....I was stunned at his story, and saw his numbered tatoo on his arm. He used to send little drawings ,As above. with a note wishing me n' the family all the best. They never met him ,but he never forgot their names. He sent me a copy of his book .AN ENGLISHMAN IN AUSCWITZ. I lost contact with him after our period abroad , but on trying to get back in touch ,found he'd died a few years ago.

The other day i was watching a tv documentary with JEREMY CLARKSON, about the commando raids on ST NAZAIRE during WW11. How these men tried to blow the

sea gates off the dry dock used by the German battleship THE TIRPITZ. A truly amazing story told by these friendly mild old fellahs, who ,as Clarkson never tired of pointing out were "Hard as nails, and God, they were tough!", and i wouldnt disagree. I visited St Nazaire when i was nearby at a cartoon festival years ago and visited the dry dock and the Submarine pens. In one there is a fully restored U-BOAT. We went inside banging our heads knees and elbows on pipes ,doorframes and everything else in this tiny space. I couldnt wait to get out after 5 minutes ,but the crews were in the middle of the ATLANTIC OCEAN for weeks or months at a time.

A heap of years ago LIVERPOOL celebrated THE WESTERN APPROACHES. This was , at last the official recognition of the work of the MERCHANT SEAMEN during the ATLANTIC CONVOYS. I met a heap of old sailors and the stories they told, dear god!....My uncle who i took along served towards the end and was adrift at one point in the Atlantic.

Another uncle got the VICTORIA CROSS at TOBRUK,Fighting off one of ROMMELLS panzer units. He was a quiet shy little man and 'never mentioned the war. Another was a member of the SPECIAL OPERATIONS EXECUTIVE, dropped behind enemy lines , blowing stuff up and possibly killing with bare hands ,etc. I found that out as he was on his death bed. A friend of mines dad was in the CHINDITS in the BURMESE JUNGLES fighting the JAPANESE. My own dad ,was never in the war ,but was in some R.A.F. intelligence unit ,whose job was travelling around east and west Europe trying to find crashed and missing aircraft from the war. But his dad , my 'pop, served right through the WW1, from beginnig to end ,all through the big battles in the slaughter of the trenches.

The whole point of this was this is stuff that we cannot imagine, its amazing and these people lived through these hellish situations of which we thankfully will never have to. But when an old boss of mine ,years ago , gave me the advice after i'd made some disparraging remark about my dad , possibly."Ah whats that ol' fart know!"...He said he'd thought that about his own dad like that, then thought , he'd never really asked him about his life. So, they went out for a pint and he grilled his dad about his life.He couldnt believe what he'd heard. He said "try it ,it'll be worth it for you and your dad!".....So i did!....And it was.....I'm sorry i left it so late

Friday, 3 December 2010


When they said the 'heavy guns of DAVID CAMEROON(mispelt intentionally), PRINCE WILLIAM, and our lord n' leader DAVID BECKHAM were going to front our bid for hosting the world cup the response was varied. Accordind to the 'MEEJAH' it was a "cor ,wow!" from the Great British public; The Great British public, it was more of a "Oh great!"; And to all those Johnny Foreigner sorts , it was a "Who?"

The Russians had the right idea. Their political leader stayed at home, only turning up for the celebration party. Our deadbeat arse'ole of a primeminister The Great CAMEROON latched on and made sure that his greasy smiling and expensively coached camera face was on display all the time. England was promised votes and only got 2 , and one was one of our own. Actually thats a point. Why didnt the rest of our team vote?
The result was like a EUROVISION SONG CONTEST result. Maybe we should've had the 'TOGMEISTER', TERRY WOGAN himself to host our bid. But RUSSIA the biggest country in the world ,totally run by the RUSSIAN MAFIA winning, hmmmmm, who'd o' thort?

I'm sure our 'hard sell' was very good , all about our wonderful infra structure as long as it doesnt snow or rain heavily, etc, etc. What they should've pointed out to everybody was the savings to all the international squads having the games in England. Because all the international players are playing in England. So the players would all jump into their FERRARRI'S and meet up with their national team mates from around the country at a coach station , or drive straight to the ground their qualifying round was being played at. Squads neednt worry too much about hotels , as the players could go home for dinner and an early night. Flying the squads around the world wouldnt be a problem ,just the coach and his suitcase for the whole world cup.

But the dream is over , we've saved /lost billions depending if your for or against. But it cost us millions to be humiliated , so our boys can drink and deal in Zurich for a week.

DAVID BECKHAM, as it turns out seems to be a decent friendly intelligent bloke when he's interviewed on chatshows. But for some reason when players give interviews about football. The brain is totally disconnected and its the usual cliche ridden bullshit they all spout, intersperced every second word with my favourite, "AT THE END OF THE DAY!"....As if this endows whatever inane crap they're spouting with a deep philosohical profundity. David, gawd bless 'im, was being interviewed after the 'disaster', and 'the end of the day' got a real hammering.

So, thats that ! The players will be playing at -50 degrees, then 4 years later in Quattar +50 degrees. I dont think our freezer is that cold ,or our oven that hot.

Wednesday, 1 December 2010


I've this wonderful vision of the flashing police squad car light and siren wailing as it travels out of a Hollywood graveyard, mourners diving out of the way; Then up a tunnel of light; Smashing through the pearly gates, as St Paul dives out of the way; The light and siren carry on , bumping over white fluffy clouds , slamming into golden harps as angels dive all over the place. DETECTIVE FRANK DREBIN of POLICE SQUAD has arrived! Or LESLIE NIELSEN, as a few may remember him.

Any old farts in their 40's and (sadly) 50's will remember Nielsen , as he was in thousands of telly series and hundreds of films. Not starring , but as a character actor that popped up time and time again all over the place. F'rinstance he was the captain who went and overturned the ship in THE POSEIDON ADVENTURE. I dont think he was always a baddie ,but quite often a sneaky wealthy bad guy up to no good with the hero of whatever series it was.

Apparently when they were going to make AIRPLANE the producers didnt want comedians , but straight faced actors and Nielsen was one of the best and proved it. The short lived POLICE SQUAD spawned the NAKED GUN films and a heap of spoofs , hated by the all important critics ,but beloved by the buying public, but they dont matter , its the critics who know best, cos' they're proffessionals, and get their DVD's free, so can afford to be dismissive of every film they have to watch. Who cant like films with lines like .."Is this some kind o bust?"...."Yeah its very impressive ,but we need to ask some questions!"

Tuesday, 16 November 2010


All these years i've lived a good unhealthy ,butch manly existance.....Eaten n' drunk too much too often;Passed wind from all the windswept orifices; Sat n' scratched myself in company and been a general slob n' arse'ole, in other words a healthy 'male of the species'. Nowhere near the "in touch with his feminine side " for Timothy B Leatherbarrow, no sirree!(And ,no ,i'm not going to tell you what the B stands for.)....Well, that was until the other day!

I was stood in the fair city of LIVERPOOL watching the world go by. I happened to watch a lot of sexy stylish ladies saunter by , this couldnt be helped, as a large percentage of the 'passing world' are girlies. Another thing about these fashionable gurlies, is that the STILETTO HEEL has returned with avengance, not only that but the heel in combination with a platform sole , adding even more height to an already highly dangerous style of footwear.
I have to admit to being fascinated by the ladies ,admittedly some tottering ,but a lot walking very gracefully .Watching (as if i have a choice) ,CELEBRITY COME DANCING, I'm amazed at the ladies leaping and spinning across the floor. I watched MAGGIE Q, in a tv series called NIKITA, she was booting the shit out of a group of fellahs while wearing the highest heels i've ever seen. I couldnt believe you could stand on them, never mind do flying spinning back kicks and stuff like that. I have suddenly got this urge to walk in a pair of these things. I know that within seconds i'll be lying on the floor screaming in agony with compound fractures of my ankles and legs. I'm not turning transexual or nothing, no dresses or 'sussies' or naughty underwear ,or anything like that . ...Well, for now any way ,never say never n' all that. I'll stick to imagining tottering about in my stiletto's

Tuesday, 2 November 2010


Over the years all of us who've done a bit of whizzing around the world on airplanes have experianced the joy of queuing for hours on end while our ,toothpaste;Bottles of water;After shave and stinky stuff bottles; Tubes of lotions; nail clippers;Pen knives,just about sharp enough to cut paper is all confiscated for the safety and security of one n' all. In the never ending fight against terrorists taking over planes, we cant take chances. One of these maniacs threatening the crew with nasal hair clippers to stay back and do as they're told as he primes his underpants . You have to understand that terrorist technology has moved with the times and they have refined the art of exploding things like underpants, socks n' shoes. So, is nothing safe? Obviously not as we've had a spate of suspected bombs on a few planes, over the last few days.
But it turns out all the security we've been forced through was an ,almost, total waste of time. Unless you had a big black ball with a fuse sticking out the top, and the word BOMB written on the side in big white letters, they had no real way of knowing for sure if there was explosives on board.It all seems to be just another blast of "LETS BE SEEN TO BE DOING SOMETHING FOR THE GOOD OF THE BRITISH VOTERS-NESS!!!"...By our beloved politicians, gawd bless their expense bought cotton socks.
The thing that stuns me is that ,as the conversation on various news programmes goes on about the possibility of the average air traveller being blown to bits at 30,000 feet or so, which is bad enough to spoil anyones day. The subject is changed from the possible bloodshed-type problems, to the much more important POLITICAL PROBLEMS this would cause to CAMERON n' OBAMA......If ,god forbid i do find myself being sucked out of the fuselage of an aircraft at 50000 feet , a few thousand miles from the nearest land.....Well Cameron and Obama ,you have my sympathy!

Monday, 1 November 2010


The other day the LEATHERBARROW rabble went shopping in the fair city of LIVERPOOL. Normally ,i trail along behind the LOVELY LYNNE like a good husband, faithful n' true. Actually thats not totally true. If i walk in front, she gets sidetracked by everything in every window she saunters past. Leaving me to march manfully on, until i turn to say something witty and profound, only to discover she's not there. This is a pain in the arse ,as obviously, i love her dearly and worry whats happened to her n' the little 'un in the hard brutal times we live in. That ,and the fact , she's driving and i cant get home without her.
Lynne is murder to go shopping with and i couldnt stand it any more after a few hours with her, me mam n' the little 'un. So, THE LOVELY LYNNE, gawd bless her cotton tights suggested i go for a drink and she'd meet me. So, for you SCOUSE boozin' sorts. I went into the CARNARVON CASTLE, just off CHURCH STREET. Its a little boozer, but do a nice pint of GUINNESS and i partook....Then again.....And again......
Now waiting for the missus to return from shopping in a pub seems a good idea, but it can be dangerous. Your stood at the bar minding your own business, absolutly no idea if your going to be there for half n' hour, or 3 hours....And ,aside from a few brief asides to others about you, you've nothing to do ,but drink. Then eventually ,you notice somebody who arrived around the same time as you, getting a little rowdy, and it occurs to you that, "Shit!..I'm knockin' it back a bit"....But i'm not of strong enough character and resolve to order a soft drink. I'm in the boozer 'till my beloved throws me over her shoulder and carries me home to the dog house, so may as well make the most of it.........."CAN I HAVE ANUDDER PINT O' GINNISSS OVER 'ERE , LUV, PLEESE ...UUUUUURRRRPPPPP!!!!!!!".....Do you know i could get to like shopping.


The other day my darling daughter was all excited 'cos her friend was coming over to stay the night , or have a 'sleep over'. When they arrived ,there was a little talking and giggling ,then they sat down in different rooms huddled over those 'damned, bloody effin' GAME BOY computer games. All i could see was the back of the game boy; a pair of hunched shoulders; And a mass of hair hanging down between them. No words were passed ,just a mass of bleeps ,blarps ,bloops , etc, etc. Thouroughly puzzled ,baffled and befuddled by this very strange scenario. I commented, or ,as THE LOVELY LYNNE, would argue , i shouted....."What the hell is going on?..Your best mates here and you havent spoken two words and your not even sitting in the same bloody room, fer christs sake!"....Lynne informed me that they didnt need to do any of these things, as they were playing a game with each other on the two game boys... I rolled my eyes and remembered how 'As a lad' if i had any mates around the house ,we'd damn near wreck the joint. And wouldnt stop talking 'till exhaustion set in, or my dad threatened to kill us if we didn' ''Shut the 'eff!', up''.
But i hate that bloody GAMEBOY, it hooks into her brain and communication of any kind is totally useless and an utter waste of time. I just get this uncontrollable urge to smash it to bits. I'm told my daughter ,ELARA is very pretty, but its been so long since i've seen her face, i cant actually agree or disagree. I imagine she must be ok, coming from good breeding stock as me and the LOVELY LYNNE, she's not bad a bad looker, i must admit, and i'm relatively gorgeous, so she must be quite pretty, unless she's taken after the dog.

Thursday, 14 October 2010


A couple of weeks ago me n' my beloved family hit the fair city of LIVERPOOL. I was going for a pint or six with some ol' muckers, while THE LOVELY LYNNE and THE SHORT ARSED ONE were going to do some shopping. On the way we stopped at a place called FRANKIE N' JOHNNIES for a bite to eat. All very nice and tasty it was too. Afterwards we carried on our journey into 'the fair city'. I met up with the arse'oles who comprise my friends and started guzzlin' n' gabbing the usual rubbish as we strove to put the world to rights. Another mate arrived a little later and made a remark about somebodies breath stinkin'. I hadn't noticed anything untoward or overly pungent. It has to be said ,there was a reason for this. The rancid respirator was 'yours truly'. It was some spices or garlic in the snack that we'd had. Very embarressing ,but on the bright side as it was me ,i didnt have to smell my rancid breath.

It reminded me of times long past when we'd all put our suits on ,collars n' ties, even blow dry your hair after a long bath. And fish around in the laundry basket for the least smelly socks.....We were going 'clubbin' and we were 'coppin' off'....I remember swaggering into town and posing at the bar, the 'bee's knee's'. But on the odd Friday my sister used to cook the tea and she'd discovered GARLIC!... .So, as i addressed my partners in drink ,sin n' debauchery, "A'right , lads!"......"Effin' hell! you been eatin' garlic or dog shit or somethin'?"......I would roll my eyes , bite me tongue ,yank my tie off, and consider f**in' off home. But 15 packets of extra strong mints 30 pints of GUINNESS , and some of YATES WINE LODGE'S, 'god awful 'OZZY WHITE', a licensed paint stripper which removed the lining of your tongue , oesophagus and stomach ,even garlic couldnt resist .I think it did the job ,funny thing was , we still never 'copped off'!

Monday, 4 October 2010



I've never actually got my 'rocks off'..Watching MUCKY MOVIES ,but i've definitly 'laughed me 'rocks off' watching 'MUCKY FILMS' ,or BLUE MOVIES, or whichever you prefer to refer to them as. My 'appreciative 'lack of appreciation' of mucky movies began years ago when i used to work in a pubs behind the bar . There was always videos knocking around the regulars. Actually the first 'flesh flick ' i ever saw was in a mates house in the early 70's. His dad had a reel to reel projector and a film on a reel. My mate set up the film reel to reel and turned on the projector ....The film moved ,stopped, flickered and jumped....Stopped...Started to blister and boil and a big black hole appeared in the middle of the screen as the projector burnt through the film. I dont know what his dad said as we didnt see him again for months.

But i always remember watching my first mucky movie and following the complex storyline. I think a half naked sex starved women seduced the gas man or something. But it was at the end when 'the credits' 'came up'(phnar)....(jeez ,how pathetic is that reading the credits on a blue movie?).......But i was glad i did , as i fell into a fit of laughing when the SCRIPT WRITER, STORYEDITOR, FROM A STORY BY , etc, etc.......was listed, these creative masterminds deserve their due, and i for one appreciate their creative genius.

There is , of course the actors and actresses who 'star' in these body pumping celluloid 'fun for some of the family' stories of real-life sex starved neglected housewives and tatooed television repairmen ,etc ,etc. The cast get their 'scripts' and get their partners , of all ages ,weights ,sexes ,etc ,etc ,i suppose its luck of the draw on the day what kind of scenario they're in on a certain day . Your average movie star must make about 15 movies in a carreer ....The porno stars probably do that in a week. Apparently a lot of people 'in the business' are married to people 'in the business'. So Mr n' Mrs are both spending their days about other peoples bits n' pieces and various orifices....The conversation of the day must be interesting over the table at dinner....I'd imagine they'd have to let the kids eat in another room. When they're at home and go to bed 'For an early night' Its probably to get a good rest so they can have an early start the next day to make a film about somebody else 'having an early night.'

Tuesday, 28 September 2010


Once upon a time footy clubs had normal people who trained and played for the club and took their orders from the bobble hatted manager in the (even) cheaper track suit than the players wore. There was a club chairman ,but he watched a few games ,but mainly had access to the club bar. And the whole thing revolved quite simply around the football. All VICTOR, HOTSPUR and ROY OF THE ROVERS stuff. The fans went out with their mates and kids . Bought a few bags of chips ,or a meat pie and had a couple of pints. Crammed into the stands with their rattles and if you werent careful, you got your pocket pee'ed into from the fellah behind. I dont think any women ever tried peeing in somebodies pocket. But ,who knows ,stranger things've happened. Remember the days of rattles, stripey scarves n' bobble hats, funny haircuts, tight shorts,leather caseballs and mudbath pitches.

Now the football is total business.Plastic grass, plastic balloon balls, Players suddenly pink and silver boots and handled by agents, p.a's and p.r. people. Football became almost showbiz. Players moved around for the best price so quickly and often ,it was almost as if they were on tour. Fixed squads beloved of the fans ,going through the highs and lows of the clubs history became a thing of the past. The satellite telly people upped the ante, and the money went even further through the roof. Now we all know the monsterously overpaid gobshites whose names we can only pronounce with lots of practise, and then when we can, they're probably moving on to another club and even better wage . The players arent around long enough to form a tightly knit squad and become responsible for a clubs performance. So now the manager, the man who was once 'The boss', and is now only sometimes referred to as that in post match interviews. He is now the the scapegoat for the club losing a few games and is out on his arse before he's had a chance to wet his sponge in the club bucket(like they used to.). Because today is the day of the club owners. These Multi Squillionaires, from all over ,China,Middle East, India, Russia and sadly the'Good ol' us of A'. who for some reason want to spend money on something to play with, like a major footy team, to help pass their boring wheeler dealer days.

I remember a great team called LIVERPOOL FOOTBALL TEAM. As you walked down the tunnel to the pitch was a club LIVER BIRD logo, which said, simply, not welcome to...But,"THIS IS ANFIELD".....This once great club is a prime example of a national institution, almost screwed over by the money men.American Money men for their ,purely financial reasons ,giving promises about what they will do for this "Great British club and their fans.."And hated with an unbelievable intensity, they still will not leave after going back on virtually every promise made. LIVERPOOL F.C. is ,apparently ,a mess in the bank and on the pitch, all due to our beloved AMERICAN COUSINS..."GOD BLESS AMERICA!"..'Cos LIVERPOOL wont!

Thursday, 9 September 2010


STEPHEN HAWKING, recently announced that there wasn't any need for GOD in the creation of the universe. The BIG BANG;The creation of time n' space n' the creation of the force of GRAVITY n' all that stuff ,well, Just happened!...So not unaturally the shit hit the fan. As we all know everything is like it is ,cos of a nice fellah with a toga and a beard.Thats the picture that all the religions have pumped out since time imemorial. Thats why this 'lovely bloke',who made us all and is still taking care of his favourite planet and followers. If this jolly nice caring chap did create the universe why does he look like a human grandad?
We live on a grotty mediocre planet on an outer ring of a grotty mediocre galaxy in a grotty mediocre group of galaxies in a grotty mediocre corner of the universe. If there is a god ,how do we know he's not a scaly ,tentacled ,slimey mass of teeth and claws like something from ALIEN. If he did , that'd bugger up all the holy books ,bibles ,korans and screw up the whole religous setup. If god looked that horrible ,imagine what the angels ,etc would be like. HEAVEN doesn't look quite so appealing now. Instead of fluffy clouds and harps, i keep thinking of the flightdeck of the deep space mining ship NOSTROMO in RIDLEY SCOTT'S classic'ALIEN'. Now ,if thats heaven ,just imagine what the other place would be like.

Wednesday, 8 September 2010


Yes our personally troubled hero WAYNE(shrek) ROONEY scored last night for England. Gone is the tired weary, lacklustre player we had to endure through the travesty of the world cup. Now ,although he may not have a smile on his face, he has the skip and spring in his step again. I think i know why. Rooney has been caught paying £1200 a night to a naughty lady to do whatever demonic things £1200 will pay for. This has taken its toll on the much needed Rooney fitness and drastic action was needed to get him back on form. This is were the wife COLLEEN comes in.

Most houses in our fair land seem to be in possession of an american style BASEBALL BAT?.. No, catchers mitts or even baseballs?....In fact nobody plays BASEBALL at all! Girls play ROUNDERS, which ,incidentally is a good way of upsetting a yank by pointing this fact out. The reason people buy the baseball bats,is to leave by the bed and to beat the hell out of any burglers or housebreakers, who, god forbid may threaten your home or family. Another function for this finely balanced and designed bats is to take to your husband if he's been playing away, for £1200 a night.
The reason for Rooneys return to fitness is ,undoubtedly that COLLEEN has taken Waynes SWEETIE MONEY away from him and has been chasing him around the ROONEY MANSION threatening to "Smash his f***kin' 'ead in!"....Let us not forget , she's a good LIVERPOOL girl and you do not cross Good Liverpool girls ,and live!...So it is Colleen's BASEBALL n' EXTREME VIOLENCE fitness regime that has kept Wayne on his toes and put the spring back on his studs..
I think Rooney's going to have a good season . His training regime with Colleen , i think will carry on for quite a while yet, so dont expect too many smiles from Wayne, life on the pitch is going to be a picnic compared to life at home....
As an added extra!....I've just returned from a sortie down to the shops. While i was in there i looked at the magazines and newspapers. One newspaper revealed how the girl who Rooney spent his £1200 a night on.....CHARGED HIM AN UGLY TAX!!!!... Apparently she didnt exactly fancy young Wayne. One of his friends was a little more to her high standards and she gave him a"£75 QUICKIE" in the bar toilet. Hows that for paying over the odds in tax? Poor Wayne......Oooh we live in a wonderful world.

Tuesday, 7 September 2010


When the WORLD CUP was on the other week and the laughingly called ENGLAND TEAM disgraced themselves and the rest of us . It was said they looked tired and lacked the fire and energy needed to do ....Well anything!....At the centre of all this attention was a very low key, lacklustre WAYNE ROONEY. The reason has at last 'come out'. Laughingly described as "Having private and personal problems". Our Wayney-poo's,the little red devil, is getting his stubby muscley little legs over a young lady for a mere £1200 per night....£1200 PER NIGHT????....Whatever the hell you get for £1200 ?There must be trpapeze's, trampolines, bullwhips and various electrical chairs..... Well, its no wonder he's tired his legs must be shot! Theres a big fuss about Rooney playing for ENGLAND against SWITZERLAND. The manager says he's mentally strong and fit to play, even if his body is totally' shagged out!'....I nearly choked ,this morning when a newsreporter on the telly asked if there was any chance "rooney'd be 'YANKED OFF'?"..... Well, after all those £1200 nights, he'd be more than used to it.

It also appears that 'the lady' in question has basically been around the footballers in the premiership. All those fine athletes our children idolise , their accountants must be wondering what all these £1200 's are for. The wags are being replaced by slags. Those fine proud players are having their energy and fitness sapped and they're paying £1200 a night for it. And she is going to name names. So Rooney's un-named team-mates are soon to be named. Ah, the beautiful game!

Monday, 6 September 2010


Here we are BRITAIN at war and what do the politicians decide to do in the midst of the conflict but reduce our military might. The major choker for any English man is that we should combine our naval fleet with the FRENCH??????...... The last time we had any dealings with the French navy was in the SECOND WORLD WAR and we went to North Africa where it was berthed and we sunk the whole of the French Fleet. Funnily enough the French weren't too happy about that. I like the French ,i've a few French friends and i hope i still have a few French friends. (Robert ,is that invite over to Canada still on?).... We could merge the army with the Germans . Why not the RAF with the German LUFTWAFFE. I mean all around here in the locality of Northern Europe ,We all have a history with each other. We're neighbours. Any neighbours have arguments and upsets from time to time. Just watch CORONATION ST, or EASTENDERS, to get my point . So the French and the Germans ,we've had a little upsets with through the years ,but lets forgive and forget and nip down to the FRENCH FOREIGN BRITISH LEGION SOCIAL CLUB for a PINT OF MILD and a glass of wine .

Wednesday, 1 September 2010


TONY BLAIR GIVES IT TO GORDON BROWN......A signed copy of his autobiography, hot off the press!
Todays the day, the day when our once beloved glorious leader, TONY BLAIR has his autobiography released. The pavements outside of bookshops all around the country will be full of news reporters reporting how theres nobody queuing for 'Tonys Tome'. I'm sure the tale ,entitled 'A JOURNEY' will be a fascinating read. Apparently he's upset at soldiers getting killed in a war he sent them to; He hates GORDON BROWN. Apparently he's a bastard, etc, etc. Now thats the stuff people want. Vitreol and hatred and spite and a smattering of blame . Tony,like all great celebrities also hit the bottle ....POLITICS, THE NEW ROCK N' POLL!(sorry!). As Tony not exactly hitting the excesses we ussually hear about from our beloved celebrities. He'd have a G&T, then a few wines after dinner. I do that before dinner and i've never ran the country.
I get to order the dog to get out from time to time, thats the limit of my power and influence. Tony's away in the states pushing the book during his highly paid lecture tours. Apparently this very evening, our hero is having dinner with BALLCOCK O'BARNPOT( The afro-Irish president). Poor ol' OBAMA is going to get a copy of Tony's Tome wether he likes it or not.
Aside from all the 'stuff' he did when he was in charge. There is one thing i cannot forgive him for. Even worse than the military hell he's left us in. It is the ,taking off of his tie ;Undoing his top button;Taking his jacket off; And rolling up his sleeves. When in office, he created and cultivated his own Tony's Team...BLAIRS BABES,etc.He was surrounded by PR sorts; SPIN DOCTORS, advisors ,etc, etc. One day one of these bright young things came into Tonys office bubbling with excitment. Not with a way of fixing the health system , or sort inflation ,etc. No,Something much more important. An image issue. "Prime Minister ,the next time you give a speech ,take your tie off and even ,if possible your jacket then people can see that as you roll up your sleeves ,your one of the people, determined and willing to get down and dirty with all the voters."Tony must've though"WoW!"...."Thats really, really brilliant, guys!"Happy and relieved that he wouldnt have to work on something important, this was something to make him look good, so off came the tie.....DAVID CAMERON, who modelled himself on Tony also Whisked the tie and the jacket off. GORDON BROWN the LABOUR leader was a bit more CONSERVATIVE and settled just for the removal of his tie.Now ,every damned politician in the country, whenever they are speaking ,are always open collared. Even if every single other person in the hall has a tie on. It really pisses me off these politicians trying to be like normal blokes. They're not ,they are politicians ,they arent even human. And they can claim a nice silk tie on expences.

Wednesday, 25 August 2010


As i was slurping at my 47th gallon of tea of the day i was watching the 'BEEB' news. This to help me to help you by keeping my finger on the pulse of just what is occurring in our great wide world. One thing that came out is the rocketing numbers of rules and regulations n' laws n' stuff. This mass of laws, etc , covers virtually everything. So, whatever your doing, you better stop it right away, as its probably illegal. One of the rules ,is that, apparently it's ILLEGAL TO OWN A NUCLEAR BOMB!!!... I mean did you know that? Because i certainly wasnt aware of it. When we moved into our new house in Warrington, after our few years in the far east, we brought a pile of stuff we'd aquired with us. A lot of this stuff ended up in the garage, shed or attic.
Our story begins in India. One day ,partaking in the KINGFISHER and COBRA beers in various boozers in the fine city of BANGALORE with a few friends , i got talking to a fellah ,in a bar, as you tend to during the aquiring of 'a skinfull'. He sold me an old nuclear missile and warhead. It was old Russian army stock, which the Indians ,always people with an eye for a bargain were swallowing up. Lynne went up the wall. I had to take the MIG FIGHTERS and the AIRCRAFT CARRIER back. The nuclear missile got lost amongst the LOVELY LYNNES stuff.

So after the news i got a shock when i was getting the lawnmower out of the shed and there in the corner was the nuclear war head. A little dusty and rusty and droplets of URANIUM 235 on the floor glowing away. I thought,"maybe i'd better get rid of some of this junk", as THE LOVELY LYNNE is always going on to me about doing. I thought of selling the warhead and booster together on E-BAY(UK), but i didnt know how much to charge for postage for the booster assembly.I mean it wouldnt be worth selling after all the wrapping and cellotape. And i bet ,even if i did wrap and stamp it . It wouldnt fit in the letterbox and that miserable cow in the post office wouldnt take it over the counter. The only thing i can think of is the local carboot sale, up the road. As even the charity shops wouldnt take the stuff. "Some days you just can't get rid of a( nuclear) bomb!"( Thanks to ADAM WEST in BATMAN,THE MOVIE for that immortal quote!).... Gawd! its hardwork being a honest law-abiding citizen

Monday, 23 August 2010


(car alarms in perfect harmony.)
Even though we live in violent, crime ridden n' riddled times and towns, its not all bad. We're protected by whats left of the police force. We have modern day 'dads army 'in neighbourhood watch, etc .But our property and safety is secured by a variety of alarm systems to protect us from various forms of accidental or malicious grief and problems which may arise to generally screw up your day. Not to mention the next few months trying to sort out what the insurance companies are actually there for. As you try and get money you've paid to them and are entitled to recieve back to ease the suffering in just the sort of sad ,bad and even tragic circumstances you may find yourselves in. To combat and protect our property we have a variety of alarms . The most infamous being ;THE HOUSE ALARM; THE CAR ALARM THE SMOKE ALARM. The ideas behind these various alarms are pretty valid and reasonable. But, the reality ,as ever, never quite matches the sales brochures,the blurb on the box, etc.
Whenever you walk down a street, somewhere a house alarm is ,howling ,clanging, bleeping ,or some other deliberatly mind scarring noise. But nobody thinks,"OH MY GOD! THERES A HOUSE BEING BURGLED, CALL THE POLICE ,!".....No, the eyes get rolled and ,"OH F***'IN HELL !....TURN THE BLOODY THING OFF, FER CHRISTS SAKE!".....And telly volumes all down the street are boosted up so the X-Factor ,or Come Dine With Me, isnt interupted too much. House alarms go off ,just cos they feel like it or a piegon flies too close. Car alarms are the same .They go off ,nobody yells "OH GOD! THERES A CAR GETTIN' NICKED, CALL THE POLICE!"...... Nope, rolling of eyes as the screeching, honking ,or whatever goes on ,because a dog pee'ed against a lampost 10 feet away. Smoke alarms 'let rip' with their ear-drum splitting howls, just for boiling an egg or making a cuppa, not because,"OH MY GOD! THE HOUSE IS BURNING DOWN!"........ A lot of alarms lights still shine ,but most have had the cables ripped out just to shut the noise off, as the owners have normally forgotten the access code as well.
The other day ,THE LOVELY LYNNE had left the car window open and it had been raining. Being the ever dilligent caring husband i reached into see if the drivers seat was wet. The car alarm let rip. We turned it off with the key fob and all was quiet again. Until a few seconds later a car across the road went off, closely followed by a few more around our sheltered little close. I thought i should walk out into the centre of the close and orchestrate the alarms into a symphony for car alarms. Who knows with a little arranging a backing of house and smoke alarms to make it an alarm classic. I thought of MIKE OLDFIELDS:TUBULAR BELLS...At the end THE BONZO DOG DOOH DAH BANDS once, sadly now long dead front man VIV STANSHALL ,as he did on Tubular Bells , could've gone through the various instruments. This for the various car alarms.
"FORD!".......(HONK HONK HONK!!)
"CORTINA!"...(FRRRRRRRPPPPPPppppppp.......flat battery!)
Dont tap your feet too hard to the funky beat you'll set off the house alarm.

Wednesday, 11 August 2010


The other day as i was standing on the train platform awaiting the," delayed due to signalling problems", but arriving five minutes early(?) train to the fair city of Liverpool. I stood calm and relaxed. All bodily functions and levels as 'labelled on the packet'. Until, from nowhere came a girl, obviously 'going into town'. To the keen observer, 'girls going into town can be determined and recognised by the tall hair; short skirt and high heels. The skirt was so tight it had to be a size or so smaller than her skin. This had a not altogether beneficial effect on my aforementioned bodily functions and levels which suddenly 'flew off the scales'....As i'm a happily married middle aged ol' fart.(i can admit to it, just!)... I tried, and failed miserably to avert my cross-eyed gaze and to return my swollen tongue to its lair inside my mouth, from where it had suddenly decided it wanted to reaquaint itself with my chin and nostrils and share spit n' drool. Its a sign your getting old when a part of you on seeing such 'a sight' wonders."Does her father know she goes out like that?"

But as she stood posing and pouting half naked tottering even as she stood still on her 18 inch stilletto platform heeled shoes on the Liverpool side of the track. On the 'other side of the track', which to every scouser is the Manchester line. And the girls stood there going into Manc-land were Middle -eastern and wrapped in various scarves from head to foot.As their religion or culture demanded. They want to keep wrapped up, fine .The Liverpool Lou,slave to the demands of fashion, religion not playing too big a part in it. She wanted to be unwrapped, fine. I dont imagine god was too upset,in either case as some would imagine. As we all know God's a bearded wise old fellah. He designed women to attract men. And unlike most creative artists, given a blank canvas he created the whole universe, it has to be said, that knocks Da-Vinci;MichaelAngelo; VanGogh and Walt Disney(at a push) into a cocked hat.They earned a few bob drawing women and god himself. But he designed and created the original design for women,the MK1 sporty models, as well as the more functional models and designs. Either way women ,without doubt are , i think,in my considered(but not by many)opinion, is one of his best designs, so when the female form is 'shown off', or not,as the case may be, as long as its appreciated he should be rightly proud.
I wonder why he never signed his work.

Wednesday, 4 August 2010


Its o.k , folks! Your beloved leader has returned to amaze,and amuse on occassions, i'm sure it must've happened sometimes on the admittedly very odd occassions; To educate ,which must have happened on occassions, albeit even less occassionally then the amusing times; And at the very least ,so you can say with n'er a small degree of smugness,"There! I told you that Tim Leatherbarrow was a F***kin' knobhead".Which i'm sure doesnt happen on rare occassions ,but occurs on a regular basis. But i've returned from a spot of frog-trotting in the land of 'Johnny Foreigner', itself ,nowhere less than the 'sarf o' France'!.....So after a week of being burnt to a frazzle and eating all the various curious lifeforms that the 'med' has to offer much to my daughters disgust, compounded by 'daddy's stinky breath', after the garlic has taken its toll. To be fair the area is a beautiful place as it wasnt bombed to bits in that little fracas we had with the Germans, way before the world cup. So, the villages, etc are still as they were and a nice life is had by all. South o' france ,back to Warrington, need i say more? I also read 'THE COMPLEET MOLESWORTH'...(Down with skool!...How to be topp!...Whizz for atomms!...Back in the jug agane!)Not just for the enjoyment, but as Molesworth learned fr,grammar at ST CUSTARDS, much like i did at my skool. But those sneaky french talk it totally different to wot i wos tort, sounding like they're gargling jelly.

The one thing i do like and admire about the Europeans ,generally is that they, unlike us ,do love their cartoons and cartoon books. Any news agent has all the ASTERIX; LUCKY LUKE, etc, etc books, as well as LA FLUIDE GLACIALE cartoon/ comic magazines . Even tho' i'd swotted up with NIGEL MOLESWORTH on my fr; grammar i still cant read a bloody word. The French have definitly changed the French language from that one wot i used to do at skool. The artwork is great stuff and ,like any kid,"i jus' look at the pictures", and try and make some sense, but on the whole just admire the art and wonder why we Brits, virtually invented the cartoon as an art form have let it die like everything else we've given to the world. Abroad you'll see adults reading through cartoon books and comics quite happily with 'non-embarressment!'....As would we Brits, given the choice.

But enschonsed comfortably on the reading seat (the bog at the top of the stairs.) i plough through these comics and admire the characters, layout, linework and animation, etc and think "BASTARDS!.....BASTARDS ,THE WHOLE LOT OF YE 'R ARE BASTARDS !...THATS THE ONLY WORD FOR THEM...BASTARDS!"......This to those not too educated in the psychology of the cartooning rabble is the basic response any cartoonist has to somebody elses work, whose any good ,or even worse, successful. At any collection of work you will hear chuckles n' laughs, but the thought bubbles are thinking "BASTARD!"....A variety of reasons for this ,as i said ,the artwork ,success and, of course ,the idea, the joke, gag, whatever. This is possibly the hardest to take as even the cleverest of ideas, when viewed become obvious and you think ,without fail,"WHY THE HELL DIDNT I THINK OF THAT?....And sometimes it seems so obvious now that your convinced the artist nicked it off you in the first place. You've only got to go home and look at the crap you've been pumping out overflowing from cupboard shelves and drawers to sadly realise and accept that maybe that brilliant idea was his own and he didnt nick it from you, but that just confirms he's, yes you guessed it..."HE'S A BASTARD!"...... Of course i wouldnt think along these lines as i'm comfortable in my talent and skill, but i know other cartoonists who arent, i bet they're sitting on a bog somewhere looking at my work and thinking, "BASTARD!"...Oooh i do hope so.

The creative mind constantly needs stimulation to keep it firing and sparking with images and concepts to amaze and astound all the 'normal people 'who inhabit the grotty grey miserable world outside our creative bubble. One way for me is to put BUBBLE-WRAP on the toilet seat and rock from side to side. This causes hilarious popping and farty noises and tickles your bum. This ,of course is just one way of stimulating the mind, i'm sure all the 'greats' of creative mindom throughout history had their own ways of being stimulated, i mean what did they do before 'BUBBLE WRAP'?

Saturday, 17 July 2010


DOCTOR WHO AND THE TUBA'S......The most terrifying adventure yet. So bad he's off the telly until christmas to recover. I did a series of brass band cartoons for a friend of the family and immersed myself in the world of wind loud farty noises being blown off right across the musical range and , of course ,lest we forget ,the wonders of the 'spit valve'. And like the good Doctor i'm a bit 'brassed off'(sorry!),i'll be off your screens for a bit,cleaning the muck from my under my finger after all this time being pressed firmly on the pulse, oh and the computers getting its valves n' pipes cleaned, but i shall return. So heres the windy fruits of my brassy labours for you to laugh n' titter over....Well, you dont have to, y' know, doesn't bother me...True talent' will out 'one day..When Lynne tells me to "get out " again, i'll be discovered, that'll wipe the smile off her face as she throws the last of my bin bags down the road after me, just you watch......See ya round!

Friday, 16 July 2010


The other week i stepped off the chuffa train at Liverpool Lime Street and stepped out into the sunshine of our fair city. The roads were full of cars,taxi's, busses and trucks chugging n' honking; Then there was those brave bold and by neccessity slightly insane pedestrians trying to get past the traffic to delve into the shopping area in and around St Johns precinct opposite. All together people and engines make an impressive noise. But the air was filled with not so much a 'white noise', more of a 'white boom'....Puzzled as i was i made my way into the centre and realised what it was.

In the old days of my youth, there was the odd acoustic guitarist occassionally with a full quota of strings; Some old tramp with a tin whistle, or occassionally the odd accordian. But now!...There was whole bands; Carribean steel bands with about twenty drums ,and to make it worse ,the public were allowed to have a go; There were guys who'd set up electric keyboards and synthesisers; Electric guitarists with stacked amps ,that were once ditched by The WHO, or LED ZEPPELLIN at one time; There was a guy battering the hell out of a full drum kit in the middle of a side street; But the worst of all according to theLOVELY LYNNE was the group playing the bag-pipes; On top off all this a marching band came through town to add to the cacopheny of sound .And as well as that you've the drivers who want us all to share their 'BOOM, BOOM,BASS' horror, as they cruise by with all their windows open. The thing that struck me is how the electric musicians are flooding the streets .Where do they get their power from. No crocodile clips and car batteries for them. I just wondered if the shops that they're playing outside of have noticed an extra plug in their multi-socket plug point, and a lead going out the door ,or into the staff toilet and out the window.

As you wend your way through these purveyors of noise.You have to be very light on your feet. Theres now dancers ,even plays and traditional entertainers juggling away, etc . To escape the street chaos we would hide away, as ever in various back street boozers. We would purchase our 'refreshments' and then discover we weren't to be spared the horrors of noise. Our hopes of talking and being heard where about to be destroyed by the worst most awful form of noise there is....Karioke....The x-factor auditions all rolled into one and sung for your own personel pleasure as you choke on your drink. The LIVERPOOL BLITZ was a lot more tuneful and pleasurable to listen to, definitly not as loud....Aaah, i'm starting to sound like the miserable old fart i ,at last am, eh?

Thursday, 15 July 2010


I went to my bed last night a young fresh faced young 49 year old and was awakened about 6.00 a.m .this morning by my excited daughter. Not, i hasten to add that she was excited for her beloved father. No! It was because we share the same birthday and shes hit the big 12.... The Lovely Lynne ,even at that ungodly hour, wished me a happy birthday. I replied , not unreasonably i thought, "Sod off ,its not my birthday ,its too early." But over the next 10 minutes or so a mug of tea was supplied, my first as a 50 year old. I opened a couple of presents and a heap of cards, which cheered me up a little. The lovely Lynne and the not so sweet 'Little 'un went off to school n' work or whatever, whilst i slobbed on the couch in a dressing gown guzzling tea watching 'Randell and Hopkirk; The saint; The Proffessionals, all good 50 fare. I might even put on some SUPERCAR,or FIREBALL XL5 dvd'ds later with a touch of MAN FROM UN.C.L.E.; With a smidgin of VOYAGE TO THE BOTTOM OF THE SEA dvd's before me mam n' the mam n' dad in law descend this afternoon.As they'll watch some of those antique afternoon things and COUNTDOWN and DEAL OR NO DEAL, not on DVD ,i hasten to add.As we wait the return of the Lovely Lynne before we go off to a local boozer for a bit of scoff. I'm not drinking, i cant take it at my age!..(But i'm still a guy who can't,but should a little more often, say no!)... I'd politly inquire as to wether they'd prefer to watch GERRY ANDERSON'S U.F.O. but i dont think they'll go for it. Ah well ,i s'pose i'll be off i've got to get me over 50 tablets and new walking stick n' stuff , oh and get a moth eaten cardigan that buttons up wrong with the few buttons left. Age is a terrible thing.

Monday, 12 July 2010


Yeah the process has started ,the fact i'm on the cusp of being half a century old. We had a party and my suffering afforded great amusement to the family,that Irish/Scouse rabble that embarress and humiliate me wherever and whenever theres a bar open. Along with them were the hooligans , scallies and deadbeats who comprise my friends. I think ,one and all had a good time. I partied like a 21 year old and awoke the following afternoon like a 60 year old. A few too many' wee-ones' thrown in with the Guinnesses' that were constantly building up in front of me on the bar. As the naive, but Lovely Lynne pointed out."You dont have to drink them all!"..But i think if people in these recession hit times, are all struggling to get by,and if they spend their hard earned money to buy me a drink, its only fair i drink it. From now on i'll be a cheap night out, as i've given up 'The drink.'And its orange juice and mineral water for this ravaged ol' fart from now on.
Thanks for the best wishes ,some of them are almost clean and i may be able to keep them, before my wife n' daughter see them. Ah well heres to the next 50 years!!!!!!

Monday, 5 July 2010


As the country starts to boil under 5 straight days of searing intermittent sunshine.....Well, its time to look foreward to the hosepipe ban. Part of the reason for the hosepipe ban is, when the goverment announce that there's going to be a hosepipe ban if the reservoir levels fall and the north west of England doesnt have 8 straight weeks of monsoon rainfall in the next three hours or so. The kneejerk reaction to this shocking news is that every single person with a blade of grass or a plant or a flower in their back garden is suddenly dragging yards of rubber tubing connected to the stand pipe alongside the house. But when people jam these pipes onto the tap, only a fraction makes it to the buisness end of the pipe. Water is spurting and dribbling from where the pipe is roughly jammed to the tap. And then, the water spurts n' dribbles from the cracks and splits in the pipe itself. This is the gardening version of the water board or public utilities who let us have some very precious exspensive water through our taps, but obviously the cheap crappy water is allowed to flood streets and roads in the middle of towns and cities through burst mains, etc. Apparently the hosepipe ban doesnt apply to the millions of gallons of wasted water, funny that.
The reservoirs in the lake district are way down apparently. It is a little ironic as the towns all around are still being rebuilt after being totally flooded, bridges swept away, the works.... Now theres no water. Around the north of England theres lots of brass bands. Having 'The Lovely Lynne' and her family coming from a brass music background, i've a little experiance of brass instruments and i'm fascinated by the spit valve. The amount of fluid coming out of an average tuba being played constantly whilst walking/marching around the garden would water the grass and flowers. Even the smaller stuff like trumpets and cornets ,because they take heavy puffing and blowing to get a tune would keep a lawn green. The Lovely Lynne plays the trombone and with the varying length of the 'moving bit', she can sit on top of the shed and water the garden near and far depending upon what note she's playing. If the bands stood around a near empty reservoir they could damn near fill it after a performance.....Just remember to boil what comes out of your tap, if and when the goverment see the potential of the brass band for our water supplies.

Friday, 2 July 2010



There!...you all thought those nerve jangling fear-filled days of the cold war were all over. Well, this America and Russians as 'besie' mates was all a sham. The hard fought trust that has been built up over all these years has been shattered by those damned Ruskies. They have seeded the local population of the land of the free with their 'sleepers'....Agents who live in a house ,have a family ,watch the telly, go to the shop, go for a drink. Exactly like you or me(except we're not yanks).....But unlike you or me in their free time they dont slob on the couch scratching n' farting, as they are too highly trained in sleeper school to do that sort of stuff. What they do is go off and contact Moscow and tell them all they have learnt from the 'neighbourhood and cocktail parties'. But this priceless intelligence is utilised by the enemies of freedom to....Well, frankly i haven't a bloody clue.

The thing i'm worried about is the wave of paranoia that is already building , even in our green and pleasant land. Only today ,the ex' of one of the spies told how she associated with shady Russian sorts, so dont fool yourself they're here. They know ROY HODGSON'S the new manager of LIVERPOOL. ;They know GAIL TYLDSLEY was found innocent on CORONATION STREET;That CHERYL COLE'S going to change her name back to TWEEDY(oh god!).....All this priceless intelligence is being swallowed up by the KGB. Remember, "Careless talk costs lives". I, for one am going to be watching what i'm saying the next time the neighbours have a cocktail party. I've also started moving the road signs around to confuse the invasion forces, mark my words, its only a matter of time.

The thing that dissapoints me about all of this, is the effect it will have on the genre of the spy film. Out will go JAMES BOND and JASON BOURNE and in will come something more akin to the PARTRIDGE FAMILY with a powerful transmitter.

Saturday, 26 June 2010


Its always good to see , in these days of uncompromising change that old traditions are surviving and are indeed alive and well. One in particular. The one that all American military men have big mouths. In times past they've had generals spouting off, chewing cheroots and walking around with pearl handled six guns. Not like British generals, of course. Mind you ,ol' MONTY wasn't backwards in coming forewards and his battles with our allied generals from across the pond was a lot more bitter and nasty then the battles he waged against the might of the German forces.
The boss of the AFGHANISTAN conflict was a certain GENERAL McCHRYSTAL. A quiet man, apparently. And with his background in BLACK OP'S, and SPECIAL FORCES,etc,etc this quietness could come in handy, blacked up behind enemy lines. But now he's a desk bound cigar chomping 567 star general he goes about his duties with his own war correspondant in tow. I never thought of ROLLING STONE magazine having a war correspondant, out side of Hollywood and the Oscars. But with the reporters in tow this ,obviously not so smart leader of men starts voicing opinions about his president and various suited and uniformed bosses in the white house and the Pentagon. I find it funny that all these unfairly berated(i'm sure) 'Sons of Bitches' actually read The Rolling Stone. A copy in the Oval Office and the War -Room of the Pentagon.
And so, our big mouth brave hero is summoned home, grovelling apologies, but, alas to no avail, as BALLCOCK O'BARNPOT(the Afro-irish president of the us)..Is a man reborn and revived, with the bit betwixt his big smiley pearly white teeth. He's fighting wars; Oil companies; The world economy,without breaking a sweat. One big mouth general who called him a name aint gonna give O'Barnpot any trouble ,oh no way, man! So as i type this rubbish Ex- General McChrystal is picking up his first dole cheque, or starting flipping hamburgers somewhere.

Tuesday, 22 June 2010


When i was younger in the days of black n' white DOCTOR WHO'S. A long time ago when the Doctors had passed the age of puberty, like WILLIAM, HARTNELL and PATRICK TROUGHTON...When the DALEKS, CYBERMEN, etc, etc..scared the living daylights out of young lads. And as we know we all used to dive behind the couch at the first "EXTERMINATE!"....The dark was cosy and safe behind the horrendous settee with the flower patterns on that were a lot more horrific than any beastie, robot or monster the Doctor Who scriptwriters could come up with.

But ,as we grew up our fears changed and it wasnt so much the beasties, robots or monsters that scared us, but the fact that our television license payed for the worst special effects and wobbliest sets in telly history. Even worse than CROSSROADS, but that was on ITV. We didnt have to pay for that,so that was ok.

But much like the classic Doctor Who days, the boyhood fears have returned me behind the couch . When i sit to watch ENGLAND play(if thats the word). The acting is the same ,way over the top; Most of the game looks like certain defeat for our heroes,(and ussually is), as they run around screaming and shouting, like all the Doctors assistants: And as for the monsters and beasties, well, we've a few, well able to drive you behind the couch....Well! WAYNE ROONEY for a start

Friday, 18 June 2010


An American politician once said...."NEVER LET A GOOD CRISIS GO TO WASTE!"....

Theres a dark ,greasy, slimey,filthy,polluting filth filling up the Gulf of Mexico and it is understandebly upsetting the people who have to live and work in the reigion as they watch their livliehoods and ecological, natural landscape getting destroyed. And then you have the Dark, slimey, oily, greasy, filth that is American politics. Ballcock o'Barnpot( the Afro-irish U>S> president) has had some wonderful photo oppertunities out of this ecological catastrophie. And , the slavering morally determined mass of congressmen, who are up for re-elections in a few months want to be seen to be fighting for the suffering 'man on the beach'. O'barnpot, after getting a 'little' slagging off.("He's said too much too late") is getting tough and is going to get tough with them "Goddam Limey sons of bitches" at B.P. Or British Petroleum, as we once liked to call it,But O'Barnpot still likes to call it ,as often as he can squeeze it in to his televised blathering. I'm sure its nothing to do with building up anti British feeling in the home of freedom, democracy and moms apple pie. And while the resentment boils up ,if he can screw a few billions of dollars from B>P> and the British pensioners. Well, the electorate'll love him forever.(What was that about 'a good crisis?)... The strange thing is ,i was reading that the oil-platform that exploded and killed all those men and caused the oil leak, was supplied by a company called TRANSOCEAN. Who were once the finest supplier of deep sea oil drilling technology. They merged with an American company called SANTA FE,something or other.They're based in J.R.EWING territory of Houston, Texas. But since the Americans moved in and took over Transoceans reputation has plummetted worldwide. So, it seems to a naive sort, as my good self, that the Yanks have a lot of blame to shoulder in this oily sticky mess, as the platform and crew was theirs.

Monday, 14 June 2010

The new england world cup song...OH CHRIST !...'ERE WE GO !(again!)...ERE WE GO !(again!)...ERE WE GO!(again!)........

Everywhere i look ,there's England flags flappin n' fluttering, health and safety regulations allowing, of course. This is a wonderful show of pride and patriotism by the people of our great proud country. I have a lot of faith in the pride and belief of 'everybody' back here at home. The problem ,for me lies with the fact i've absolutly no faith in 'our boys' in the England squad. "C'mon ,Tim, give 'em a chance"thought i to myself and sat down to watch the travesty of a game against the USA, for christs sake. Then afterwards, looked out at the flags fluttering from houses and cars in our close and thought "Ah well, they'll be coming down by the end of next week."
But even after one of the all time goal-keeping 'cock-ups'; And half the squad of deadbeats chosen by our Italian 'gaffer' dead n' beaten by injury, its not all bad. Every cloud has a silver lining, they do say. And even at this time of National disharmony, pain and fear for the next few games and our increasingly slim chances in the tournament, this old saying is true. I was asked a few years ago to illustrate a book in Hong Kong, for the chinese, written by a Geordie lad, explaining various football sayings and expressions. As ever my moment of fame never came to pass and the artwork wasn't used. But after the England game ,this particular one , i think is particually apt.

Thursday, 10 June 2010


Gazing out into space, cos' you can see it from our back garden on a clear day. I wondered on the mysteries of life the universe ,smelly socks n'the intensity and frequency of skidmarks on underwear n'stuff n' everything of importance to our daily grind. I put my massive,if underused intellect to the problems and mysteries involved. After a while i'd solved half of the mystery of the cosmos. I'd worked out the questions.
DO YOU FANCY A BIT O'..........?
Now having solved half of the equation all i needed was the answers, easy, no sweat......
(couldnt find an answer to that one)

So, there you go all the problems that weigh so heavily upon our feeble mortal shoulders .Cause us so much stress,stomach disorders like flatulance and wind (stress farting is on the increase in our high pressure age.) Falling out hair. Go on havent you been slightly alarmed at the massive knotted clumps of hair blocking up your plug hole?....All those problems have been analysed and solved.You can all relax, now. When you understand it, life ,the universe n' everything, etc,etc is quite simple and straight foreward in a curved spacetime sort of way(except for the socks n' skiddies!).No, theres no need to thank me, i shall take my leave. I've solved everything and i haven't even had my breakfast, yet.

Saturday, 5 June 2010


If you scroll back through the widom and deep penetrating observations of the insanity and inanity of our jolly lives in general,as pointed out and explained in this blog thingey. One of the 'finger on the pulse 'items was about the possible sudden exiting of a certain Spanish manager of Liverpool FC.....I frighten myself sometimes at my understanding and 'on the button 'prophesies,its almost paranormal, ESP, X-Files, etc,etc.........

Tuesday, 25 May 2010

FAREWELL TO RAY ALAN AND LORD CHARLES.....NOT PRINCE CHARLES!(He's alive n' kicking, and apparently doesnt speak with a hand up his back, apparently)

RAY ALAN(R.I.P.)....LORD CHARLES(R.I.P.).......PRINCE CHARLES(alive n' kicking)

Once upon a time when we were young and only had 3 telly channels; Testcards; The High chaperal and Benny Hill: All day religion on a Sunday; The Saturday Big Movie and Jimmy Hill on Match of the day. There was also lots of variety shows. One of the faces that was a fairly regular one popping up on Rolf Harris; David Nixon; Bob Monkhouse: Royal Varieties ,etc, etc was a guy called RAY ALAN.Sadly he 'popped his clogs' and died today.He was a ventriloquist.He was the best ventriloquist.(Does anybody know what one of those is nowadays?) But his puppet/character was the wonderful monacled and permamentaly sozzled LORD CHARLES("Silly arse!")....If you want to see how funny and clever this guy was look on you tube at a sketch where Lord Charles is trying his hand at being a ventriloquist. Wonderful stuff!

I cant help wondering with all the stuff in the various obituaries and the mentions of LORD CHARLES.....I wonder if some foreign leaders ,maybe Ballcock o'barnpot (the afro-irish U.S.president) amongst them have sent messages of condolance to THE QUEEN, after having confused Lord Charles with PRINCE CHARLES. Who is, as we all know alive and kicking and doesnt need a hand up his back to function....Well! iAssume so ,but what he does in his own time is up to him.

Monday, 24 May 2010


Apparently ED n' DAVID MILIBAND,arent only brothers, but are the best n' closest of friends according to the spin merchants n' publicity shit peddlars of the LABOUR PARTY, which undoubtedly means the brotherly shit is flying all over the floors and walls of the loving Miliband family shared appartments. The ruck is over which is going to take over from GORDON BROWN(remember him?).....The fighting was vicous until 'the penny dropped and it suddenly occured to them that they weren't fighting over 'Gordo's 'old job which happened to be PRIME MINISTER of our once great nation. The post was now a little lower down on the political scale. Only LEADER OF THE LABOUR PARTY!....Which wasnt a bad job description to drag around. Then the second realisation hit them. They would be in charge of the losing party of the General election, which meant that the post they were fighting over was non other than ,LEADER OF THE OPPOSITION....That is basically political speak for The loser in charge of the losers, or Chief Loser. Considering the strange state of affairs after this election, Hung parliaments, etc. Normally the goverment side sit alone and the congealed mass of other parties sit opposite in opposition. But it seems now the goverment is the congealed mass of other party members in what has laughingly been called a coalition. They all sit there giggling at the poor old Labour party sitting opposite with no one to talk to.

This situation has the two loving brothers still arguing,but each wanting the other to take charge. Even if the opposition is the easiest job in the world. All you have to do is disagree with absolutly everything the goverment say. You dont have to plan policies at home at night for the following day, just turn up and 'wing it'. The brothers have their pride and want the other to take the fall and lead.

Wednesday, 19 May 2010


Some of the sharper eyed of you out there will have noticed the more than usual irregular examples of rantings and ravings and all round blatherings lately. This is partly due to a severe case of pure unadulterated bone idleness on my part. But when ,with a superhuman burst of effort i dragged my lazy arse to the drawing board and got to it. When i'd finally produced something. I'm not saying it was worth the effort of producing it, or, for that matter of reading it. But it took time so that was your lot. wether you liked it or not. I sat at the computer to post the rubbish on the blog. But the computer just wasnt having it. I'm no fan of computers but a critical computer! I'm not standing for that. The internet and world wide web,etc,etc are very wonderful and clever things. The whole planet connected by photons and electrons whizzing about at almost the speed of light. Except here. Our computers photons and electrons dont so much whizz as move with the speed of a peanut sinking in a bowl of porridge. In our hi- speed age ,our computer harks back to a slower more relaxed time .

The slow workings of the computer can be forgiven, as me n' it are very similar and are alike in lots of ways. But what drives me up the wall is when it comes to a dead stop. As the computer screen freezes and i cant change pages ,move it up down across or shake it all about. Its inanimation gets me animated, into a totally psychotic rage .Where i want to smash and destroy and kill this already dead machine 'stone dead'. Then theres a slight flicker and the damn thing works up until the next hiccup. It has become a battle of wills with me n' the computer. If for a moment i let my guard down and show satisfaction with the computers progress. It will pounce and cut out on me. I have to intimidate it from start to finish. I sit in front with a CLINT EASTWOOD squint(Post DIRTY HARRY mid 1970's, best Eastwood squinting years.) and hopefully i'll get lucky with that punk computer.

Wednesday, 12 May 2010


One of the most wellknown sights for anyone going into the fair city of LIVERPOOL, is the LEWIS'S DEPARTMENT STORE. Stood there standing, through fire, wars ,blitz, depression, and a variety of other things guaranteed to ruin anybodies day, since the 1850's. Throughout its history it has had a whole record of firsts and biggests, etc .And is basically beloved by scousers going back generations ,wether they be customers or the remarkably loyal and faithful staff. The other main landmark ,esspecially for the kids, was the 'nudie man' standing proud and semi erect over the front enterance. The people who commissioned it and the artist who sculpted it, called it LIVERPOOL RESURGENT. But to the people of Liverpool, he's always been DICKY LEWIS. The pavement under Dickies knob is the most famous meeting spot in the city. Lads n' lasses waiting for their dates. Myself included. Sharing the experiance with the likes of JOHN LENNON and CYNTHIA.
But it has been decided by the powers that be ,who, As we all know, their only thought is for the people and character of Liverpool. The councillors and the property developers who think that the old buildings in the city should be replaced by yet more shopping malls. Tiled floors ,Costas ,Starbucks and as many cloths shops as can be forced in to the new shopping/leisure facilities. Apparently, they plan to bung in a few skyscrapers into the surrounding area. A couple of towering glass tubes ,bound to draw the tourists into see the famous port of Liverpool. I like old buildings;old towns and old shops; I like old back streets and old back street pubs. I dont see why it all has to go to make way for "change!". Liverpools most famous landmark, after all is ,basically a back street and a couple of back street pubs. And a basement club called THE CAVERN.This was originally demolished by some genius. The empty space stood empty for years. Until another genius decided they'd build an exact replica, but a few feet to the right. All this to a certain four man beat combo called the BEATLES.Who,played and drank in MATTHEW STREET. The Beatles, incidently used to play at staff parties in Lewis's. They played on the roof ,as well,long before the ABBEY ROAD ROOF. And Sir MACCA was a delivery boy for them before he threw it all away and joined a band.