Wednesday, 21 April 2010


iTS THAT TIME OF YEAR AGAIN...THE SHREWSBURY CARTOON FESTIVAL is about to explode into inky action when cartoonists are either mad bad n inky or mad bad n boozed up. Where the main squares are full of cartoonists drawing cartoons on boards or bored drawing cartoons and caricatures in all temperatures and weathers. Being as well as a stupid breed a hardy bunch of breeders or bleeders, i'm still not too sure which. I never imagined that the nice town of Shrewsbury and the not so nice deranged scribblings of the countries cartoonists would be tied up with an erupting volcano over in Iceland ,but it is. There was meant to be a bunch of scribblers from 'Darn under! coming along, but thats looking extreemly dodgy .And a very talented caricaturist and friend ROBERT LAFONTAINE from Canada was going to come over. We had cleared the lawnmower and various bits of stuff so he could sleep in the shed at 'chez Leatherbarrows' for a few days and then we would hit Shrewsbury together. But likewise i cant see that coming to pass!

Last night i spoke to him on the phone and over in Canada nobody seemed to know what was occurring. At that time no plane at all was flying in British airspace from anywhere to anywhere for another couple of days. So i advised Robert to get the kids dinghy and start paddling if he wanted to get to Shrewsbury. Then a mere few hours later on ,when the multi million pound losing air authorities arm wrestled the goverment in a drinking lounge in the bowels of Westminster, in to lifting the ban on aircraft flying over British airspace. In a matter of hours the skies were safe and theres nothing to worry about. We know that cos the minister for safety said so.

If anyone out there is flying over the Atlantic just keep a look out for a lean tall guy with an art portfolio in a dinghy
NEWS FLASH......Our hero has made Blighty. And as i type he's having a wander around the fair city of Liverpool. I dont know how Quebec compares to the 'pool', but he's got to face Warrington later on!.......Bon chance ,mon ami.....

Monday, 19 April 2010


Convection currents n' bullshit ,thats wot! After the travesty of a party leaders debate last week it was found the only good thing to come out of it was that all the hot air n' bull shit convectional currents given off prevented all the ash from landing on Manchester. Our beloved leaders are now being shunted strategically around the country ,not only to bore the arse off us all with 'their policies' and how its time and our chance for change ,blah ,blah ,blah yak ,etc,etc, etc, and on...But the main reason for shunting them around the country is so that all the hot air they give out is prodding and shoving all this volcanic ash up into the higher stratosphere and not coming down to cover us down here on the ground .Covering the houses and gardens and causing coughing n' spluttering on plague-like proportions.The main news coverage is about people stuck in airports around the world. But what about the abundant numbers of cheap car wash's around 'our way' manned by grinning foreign looking lads who dont speak a word of English. They would literally 'clean up' if all the ash coated the land, but it looks like they will lose out if the ash stays up there. Thats unfortunate for them ,but like everybody else in their new homeland they've got something to blame the politicians about.

Wednesday, 14 April 2010


This very morning something on the telly made reference to a newspaper article about ,how good manners and politness is in a sharp decline. I absolutly refute this 'nothing else to stick on the page, so we'll put this on to get a mention on the telly news programmes less serious moments story- headline.'.....As someone who always holds the door open for people and who will give up my seat for the old ,needy and extreemly sexy. I know its not the good manners and politness thats on the decline, but the polite response from the increasingly ignorant shower to whom i hold the doors open to and give up my ,by now warmed up seat.
I go into town shopping ,for my sins ,with the Lovely Lynne(not sins with the Lovely Lynne ,the shopping, sadly.) When i'm entering or leaving a shop, i'll hold the door open if theres somebody nearby. If i'm lucky i'll get a barely responsive grunt from the recipient of my well-meaning action. But ,not often. What often happens ,people speed up to take advantage of the open door ,and often whole families pile through ,mum, dad ,kids ,bloody prams, the lot .Nobody would consider pressing their hand against the door to hold it open for themselves or their brood. So yours truly ,grinding his teeth, but too polite to say anything stands there like a bloody idiot as a queue starts to stretch across the concourse waiting to be allowed through the door. As they stomp past ,most dont even give a sideways glance as i give filthy disbelieving looks in all directions at the ignorant shower of bastards who're walking past me ,who've walked past me and yet to walk past me.
The other fun-packed way of passing a few moments is to give up your seat to somebody on a train or bus. I've stood to let some old dear or a pregnant woman, or whoever sit, and ,on the whole get a guarded response. But quite often someone else will pile past slamming their shoulder into me or their palm into my face knocking me back like a foreward fending off a tackle in the Rugby 6 nations championships. Then ,once they've parked their fat ignorant stupid arse on the seat that i've kindly warmed for them. Not a word is uttered to me ,or the person to whom i'd originally intended the seat for. They sit gazing with a fixed glassy stare straight ahead, totally oblivious to anything you may have to say to them.

So whoever said good manners doesnt cost anything and politness doesnt hurt....Except for the battering to your ego and confidence by being ignored; The ruination of your day as you try and hold in your temper; And your growing dissappointment in people, except for that ,they may well have a point.

Monday, 12 April 2010


When the LARGE HADRON COLLIDER whacked a couple of sub-atomic particles together at 9.999999999999999%recurring, the speed of light, these protons ,using the equation describing the relationship between mass and energy....E=MC2. The resultant energy release was meant to show conditions billionths of a second after the BIG BANG, the event wot caused us all to be here. Along with all the other stars, galaxies , planets, and the French. Who knows the sub-atomic particles could've been split into even more basic sub-sub-Atomic particles, which could've caused the creation of even more sub-sub-sub-Atomic particles, the basic building blocks of the universe and the whole of creation itself. Mind-boggling and as fantastic as it may seem ,there is an even greater mystery that needs to be solved.

This mystery,the creation of the political universe and the bacic building blockheads that it was formed from will be solved by the SMALL HARD-ON COLLIDER. This device will fire the most basic SUB-HUMAN particles, the political party leaders at each other at the mind numbing speed, much faster than the speed of light. The SPEED OF POLITICAL BLAME. Using the political equation E=MP2, showing the relationship between expenses and MP's pay, hopefully there should be some fascinating results. The sub-human particles could shatter into even more basic sub-sub human particles than MP's and party leaders ,hard as it is to believe. The political energy released could produce miniature black holes, commonly known as policies. These may form WORMHOLES to other dimensions .The political particles may worm, or crawl through the aptly named inter dimensional gateways. Eventually the political particle may explode into the nothingness of another empty dimension. It wouldnt be a Big Bang ,as any politician wherever he is, even a new dimension, would be canvassing for votes for the GENERAL ELECTION. So, possibly a universe could be formed from a BIG YAWN. The hot air and wasted energy radiated into the void by any bullshitting politician worth his salt would be more than enough to start the formation of stars, planets, galaxies ,a whole new universe with the same old politics.

Wednesday, 7 April 2010

LETS SHUTTLE CRAFT OFF THIS MORTAL COIL AND FLY INTO SPACE WITH THE RUSSIANS!!!!...(Or...Eeeer!...Baikonur, ve haveski a problemski!)

Being a cartoonist ,i'm obviously financially well-off. And having the lovely Lynne running the banking system of the country(i must point out , its not the part thats nose- dived deep into the s**t, and your having to pay to dig out, but the good bank thats alright and the sun is still shining on.)...But between us ,gosh n' golly we're absolutly loaded, absolutly 'rolling in it(?)......So ,as a nice easter present she paid for me to be a 'SPACE TOURIST'. Great stuff, magical even ,until we tried to book a SPACE SHUTTLE on SPACE SHUTTLE RESERVATIONS.COM. It was then to my shock n' horror and severe dissapointment and disbelief i discovered that Americas first Irish ,Afro- President BALLCOCK O'BARNPOT Had cancelled the Space Shuttle programme. So, instead of a few days in Florida at Universal studios and Disneyland ,before going to CAPE CANAVERAL and blasting of into orbit on ATLANTIS....I would have to go to a desert in Russia. In the middle of this desolate nowhere land is a particually desolate piece of nowhere, where stands a particually delapodated ,slightly rusty looking heap of tanks ,pipes and scaffolding. This is BAIKONUR COSMODROME.Where the Russians launch their Soyuz space craft from. I was shown the craft which due to the fact theres no money, hasn't been updated since the 1960's.... I noticed scratched on the entry hatch ..Y. GAGARIN WOZ ERE '61.

Whereas, the Americans check n' treble check their craft right up until launch. The Russians walk around it; Whack it a few times with a hammer; Have a small religous blessing, then whack a few vodkas down...Apparently thats the only way they can get the crew on board.

Eventually we were on board and all of a sudden there was loud banging and thuds and high pressure steamvalves exploding. yes it was 'lift off'! The cockpit shook and rattled, i thought my teeth were going to crack into fragments, must remember not to spit them out if they do. The weightless bits of incisor and molar might bite somebodies eye out....International relations are tricky enough things to maintain. And an Eastern eye poked out by Western Capitalistic teeth n 'fillings could herald WORLD WAR 3. But suddenly the noise and shaking eased slightly. The Captain pointed his thumb over his shoulder and one of the crew shovelled some more coal into the boiler to give the ship a little more thrust to push us into orbit.

As we floated about the cockpit(clang..My head).....I peered through the mucky window with sqashed flies plastered across it and could just about see the Earth. (clang....My Knee!).......Eventually we approached the INTERNATIONAL SPACE STATION.... It looked like a model of the brass bedstead in BEDKNOBS N' BROOMSTICKS' made from metal toilet roll holders....The design consultant could've been VALERIE SINGLETON during her BLUE PETER days which were round about when the Russian space fleet was designed. As i looked up( head)..At the docking tunnel i could see scrapes, dints and dents all around it. The captain laughed "Ah pilot has too much of the wodka,da!". I've a week on board this tubular contraption floating around (clang, clang, clang clang.....head, knee, elbow....etc,etc,etc.) Working out how to force space food into my mouth and then trying to figure out how to get rid of it from the other end...

I couldnt wait to finally float down towards the cool blue waters of the Pacific ocean under a canopy of parachutes. Until it was explained to me that the Russians specialised in HARD LANDINGS....Landing in the middle of the desert. Just before make contact with the ground they fire booster rockets to slow the craft down to ease contact ,apparently it works quite well, sometimes......It was then that i noticed how strange tears look in weightless conditions as i burst out crying and begged somebody to pass the wodka!!!!!!

Tuesday, 6 April 2010


Oh let joy be unrestrained its been announced that in a months time we'll all race breathlessly down to church halls and schoolgyms all across the land to put a tick in a box to help decide which bunch of slimey shitheads are going to screw us up for the next bunch of years.A bunch of years which, will be much the same, if not seperated at birth as the last bunch of years . The new set of earnest ,yet sincere faces to most of us will seem exactly he same as the last lot. But to the expert perceptive eye The differences will be more than apparent. As most animal experts their specialist breed of animals do attain a character and personality of their own and become familiar over a period of time and keen observation ,say of apes in the rain forests. Politicians, they are a breed of creature. Instead of fur ,scales or rough hides , they have posh suits and quaffered hair. And it will take a perceptive eye to spot the differences.And a keen understanding to discern any personality ,your better off with the apes!...
.A hung parliaments ok ,but surely we can find a more diabolical way of making them suffer. Firing squads ,flame throwers , clubs with sharp bits sticking out ,pits of venomous snakes, Locked in a room with endless opposition party political broadcasts playing on a giant screen at deafening volume ,or just anything with Tony Blair speaking sincerly.

This piccie was another used by those nice people at HA!...They have a sharp eye for talent ,as ever have a look at the link on the right of the page, at the top it says HA! you can't miss it.

Thursday, 1 April 2010


My old Irish grannie used to say people were "full of Piss n' wind!"....A very wise lady was my ol' granny! Being from the fair city of Liverpool many of my friends n' colleagues from all points north, south ,east n' west of that fine city have voiced similar sentiments. As most scousers do seem to be partial to the odd drink and have a lot to say for themselves .But this has never bothered me ,as most of the Fine folk that line the banks of the River Mersey ,being of Irish heritage we do like a drink and do like to talk and have a 'bit of a crack (no not the drug)'...So many scousers do like 'going on the piss' and a good drinker needs good wind,(to talk and pass) like a set of bagpipes needs to keep the bag inflated to keep playing. But it has come to pass its not the people of Liverpool that are full of wind ,but the city itself.
Apparently some smartarse clever people have worked out a way of extracting methane gas from the coal seams under the city, hugh chunks of the northwest , and out into the mersey bay and Irish sea. This will supply power to thousands of homes and industries,( or those that are left). And keep us going 'till we're overun with nuclear power stations..So this thousand millenia -old fart gas will undoubtably turn Liverpool into a miniature Texas, so there!
So if your with me one day on the piss and your smell a farty gaseous smell, it wasn't me it came out of the ground, under the cracks in the pavements of the backstreets of the fine city of Liverpool, so there!
I got all this from my blogging mate 'Thud',from his blog 'OVER THE WATER',which you can click on over on the link side of the page, he's linked into a newspaper article explaining it all. He's a clever lad....Now, he is full of P&w!!!!!...Only jokin' ,mate!