Showing posts with label Liverpool. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Liverpool. Show all posts

Thursday, 9 May 2019

GAWD!....WOT A PERFORMANCE !




"WOT A PERFORMANCE!".....A phrase that covers a myriad of sins and events. You might think of it as to do with show biz and the theatre ,but its life as a whole ,in fact anything you care to get involved in , work , personal home life or even your sex life ,christ thats often a 'performance' as is the relationship between the stars of the show ,men and women!

Porn is an interesting show of the performance between men and women and the multitude of  variations on that performance !....Somebody pointed out that watching porn would give youngsters the wrong idea not so much about sex, but about the long convoluted performance involved in getting a plumber or a telly repair man ,or a variety of household repair services, as in these performances the repairman is always there right away and forms the basis for these well thought out ,well written dramatic performances!?

Mucky stuff aside we ,of course have the traditional treading of the boards in the theatre ,with proper performers of the thespian variety called acto(oo)rs. Funny ,as i wrote the extended version of the word actors ,i can hear that  perfomance enhancing explosion ,Brian Blessed saying it . Unlike the mucky stars the thespians dont project bodily fluids ,but project their voice richocetting around the hall cluttered with their audience trying to understand what the hell Billy Shakespeare was raving about when he wrote this play that nobody can mention the name of ,but its ok to write on the poster advertising the performance.

Performances are for the arty farty sorts , And for their benefit music was invented to be performed and acted and opera was born which made less sense then Shakespeare ,as it was shrieking fat ladies singing in Italian then the show finished?

Then they performed dance in the form of Ballet , fellahs with big lumps in their skin tight trousers and women with very odd circular dresses called tu tu's bouncing around on their toes with the other leg up behind them pointing at the ceiling, and performing all this body twisting, knotting and mutilation....And all to music!



As i said the arty farty sorts go to watch actors, dancers and singers perform at performances, whereas us lower class ignorant ,unwashed go to watch entertainers at shows ! Performers of various types ,in fact a variety of different performances gave the name to the halls , and the form of entertainment of the working classes ...Variety !

Variety was a form of entertainment to do just that, entertain......Shakespeare ,the theatre ,ballet and opera where a million miles away....Comedians were invented on the creaking boards of tatty cluttered halls around the country ,jokes ,funny songs, dances ,etc ,were performed without change throughout a comedians career as there wasn't TV or radio once upon a time and as they were on the road most of the time ,people rarely saw them more than once , this was the glory years for the performers ,a bit of a drought for the comedy gag writers tho'!

When radio hit the airwaves the variety acts carried on , but some broke through onto the radio and the comedy writer was born and the performers in some cases became household names ,Hancock ,et al!....The variety halls were still doing great business until the telly came and done for them and radio. But for us boozy brits ,there was always the working mans clubs where comedians and musicians had to serve their hard apprenticeship performing for peanuts and lucky to escape with their lives from legendary comedian venues like the Glasgow Empire.

In the days were the club entertainers were musicians and comedians ,many still play the clubs ,but the clubs are closing and places to perform are thin on the ground. Bands played halls all round the cities and country ,pubs and universities ,crammed into transit vans and performing gig after gig. now every kid who wants to be a 'pop star' ,not a musician or really a performer , just a celebrity perform to themselves in their computer in their bedrooms for Simon Cowell for the X-Factor.

The big bands who survive still sell out massive arenas ,sadly great venues like most city theatres never get used...Would've loved to have seen the Beatles or the Who in the Liverpool Empire for instance. A strange thing is happening where the smaller theatres have 'Tribute bands' playing ,once their performances were teeth grindingly awful ,but nowadays some are superb and they sound great ,they are cheaper and play in the small local theatres as their inspirations may well have done once upon a smashed guitar ago!

The comedians from the clubs are sneered attoday as ok in the 'context of their times?'....Meaning they were "ok then!", but shite now . Our new comedy performers aren't called comedians , 'Stand ups!'...Ex students who try a stint at a 'comedy club'. Then if they get through they join the smug , self satisfied clique of gobshite 'stand ups' ,who sit down on a million panel shows on sky 'Dave' channel and others. night after night ,then 'lve at the Apollo. Then a tour of arena venues to push their new DVD. They would never do a working mans club were the audience are old enough to drink.

The world of variety is almost gone , but the only man who fought to help them ,never pushing his DVD, i don't think he ever made one was the comic genius KEN DODD. He vowed he would play every old variety hall all round the country ,which he did until the day he died and performed no more.




Friday, 15 March 2019

THE LANGUAGE OF LOVE WAS WHEN THE CAVEMEN STARTED 'GRUNTING UP' THE WOMEN!





A way once upon a few million aeons ago when Homo's erectus had become his sapien !....(Have you ever had a sapien?)...Language was a series of snorts and grunts . It could be argued that the method of communication  has regressed to that level again. Language , with waving arms made a form of understanding possible. Various items and instructions adopted their own grunt and snort, for example "Grunt ,snort ,growl ,bark, snarl !!" could be translated as "Hey ,woman!...Pass me that bone i want to smash that lizards head in for dinner !" Repetition of the man of the caves house orders over time became understood by the cave wife and thus was planted the seeds of language. So it is a scientific , anthropological fact that man invented language, although it was up to the female to make sense of the grunting , no change there then!

At first every cave had its own language and when lone cave men got together in communities and had to communicate with each other , community languages evolved, although accents evolved from various caves. Fred Flintstone , Barney Rubble , and bill ughrock  would have the equivalent of scouse, Geordie and Brummie accents as they lived far apart ,100's of feet. 

With the development of language romance evolved and women instead of being sex objects quite got to like being 'Grunted up!'...The prehistoric version of being 'chatted up!' As some smoothie cavemen were better than others at 'copping off!'...This started the the male to smarten themselves up, like cleaning themselves after ' dropping their guts!'....Even the women started prettifying themselves , scraping mud out of their hair and things ,this led to a massive growth in the population and like all good diseases the human race spread .

All over the place human settlements sprung up and not wandering about they developed their own languages . But they still werent very bright as they would be told things and promptly forget them. This led to the discovery of scraping symbols in the mud to remind them of whatever gossip or dirty joke they'd heard. Put 2 scribbles together and you have twice the information , almost a prehistoric graphic novel!

3 scribbles ,4 scribbles ,100's of scribbles and mankind was on his way inventing thinking and stuff like philosophy which was no good to anyone but involved lots of reading writing and thinking and led to science ,maths, history ,etc, (History was dead easy in them days ,as there wasnt much of it!)

As with language which was totally different wherever you went , the drawings that evolved from illustrations to a mish mash of squiggly lines or single squiggly lines from left to right ,from right to let ,from top to bottom ,from bottom to top ,from front to back ,from back to front....This variety of writing is probably more complex to understand than spoken language.

The spoken language spawned the theatre and stories and poetry written mixed it all up to into a stew we call 'the arts' with the creation of very odd well spoken characters called actors!...Who once spoke very well and were understood by one and all ,whereas nowadays we have film stars who speak the language of the 'Blockbuster action film' ,where the writing isnt important ,but action and heroes who speak with gutteral throat ripping grunts ,much like once long ago in the prehistoric times.

As the spoken language has regressed as 'street talk' has taken over and where once gentile local accents from areas all around our green n' pleasant land have been replaced by a horrible 'street speak' which has distorted accents like the Liverpool scouse accent which has gelled into a horrible scallification of a once decent accent. Evolution of the language ?

The written word was the tool of language and communication and a side effect was good spelling and punctuation.Then with the invention of the phone the spoken language returned in all its glory. Now in these days of 'Unsocial media' ,where texting has taken over the spoken language taking us
 back to a preemptive written word, Where the writing is worse than god knows when, spelling ,punctuation has gone and that preemptive text curse , what is the f'in' point of that ?

 I passed a school playground the other day and it was dead quiet ,with texting, i remember the playground full of bad language and various games had their own language ,again mainly obscene ,but always remember the swapping of picture cards, the "Got, not got !" language. Bad language or swearing is a wonderful new thing ,i have heard Gaelic and Welsh spoken and our very own 'F' word, "bollocks n' bastards " popping up , The English language was the one that invented swearing on top of everything else and for that we should be proud!  

Monday, 1 June 2015

SEPP BLATTER THE HONEST ,PURE AS THE DRIVEN SNOW GODFATHER OF THE MAFIFA.....(Joke courtesy of my mate Graham (Hit man)Fowell...So don't blame me!)

                                                                         

                                                                          Over the years the so called beautiful game ,our main national sport ,soccer ,footy, whatever you want to call it has been the passion of many working class men all over our green n' pleasant land. In the old days ,i remember the 60's up until the 80's the game was watched by fellahs who paid a respectable price for a match ticket and had a couple of pints and a pie at the ground and pee'ed in the pocket of the poor sod in front who was probably crushed up against the crash barriers that kept the crowd fairly stable and he was probably peeing in the pocket of the fellah in front of the barrier who was under no pressure and was lounging comfortably against it puffing away on his ciggie. The players were ,in those days not particually well paid and used to have testemonial games towards the end of their carreers to help start a business ,or run a pub ,or something in their 'retirement' years as their late 30's drew close. Players didn't move around that much and a side could have virtually the same squad for ten years ,or so. I remember the evolution of the great 60's LIVERPOOL side into slowly into the great 70's LIVERPOOL side, then a slight press 'on the gas' and the slightly faster evolution into the great 80's LIVERPOOL side. After that you had to have a photographic memory to keep up with the players coming and going and computer like grasp of mathmatics to keep up with transfer fees and with the introduction of agents wages soared and ,despite what they said about being true to their club and giving younger players a chance and facing new challanges ,etc,etc, it was money ,pure and simple.

On the international scene players played for the honour of playing for their country, look at the heroes of 1966, the great players, none of them refused to play in case it interferred with their clubs league ambitions, etc. There was a purity and schoolboy honesty and naivety which has all but gone now.

No doubt naughty dealings, etc have always gone on through the years, but these days ,well ,'WOW!' As i said the players are all ridiculously paid club hopping foreigners in grounds full of corporate booths full of canopies and 'champers for company clients and celebrities, the grounds have expanded ,all seated to drag ridiculous numbers of fans who's dedication which has often reached back for generations binds them to 'their' club and is how the clubs screw these 'true fans blind' with the ridiculous prices of match tickets week in and week out. The whole thing stinks.

The international scene is run by a proud noble organisation called FIFA they make the decisions and organise international competitions like that little tournament called THE WORLD CUP. Only a few years ago all the prospective countries put in their bid to host the next world cup. Apparently the U.K. put in a really good bid and was a tip top favourite to host the tournament, but were unceremoniously kicked out of the 'offing' and forgotten .It went to a place Quataar ,(i think)....A lovely place in the middle of the desert where even in the depths of winter temperatures are close to the boiling point of  water. Nobody could believe it and accusations of corruption,bribes and general naughty doings being afoot were hurled around. They said they'd play it around Christmas time as its cool ,the fact that it is also the middle of most northern hemispheres season wasn't really mentioned. The other country to get a World cup is Russia ,where even in the middle of summer it's cold enough to freeze nitrogen.

Everybody in the world thinks FIFA is rotten and the guy who runs it ,an obnoxious little turd by the name of SEPP BLATTER who hates the BRITS with a vengeance is the man who makes the decisions for this rotten sporting MAFIFA!.....Any doubts were shattered in the week by the F.B.I. busting the men at the top for corruption ,fraud, bribery ,etc of magnificently ridiculous proportions over the last 3-4 decades....Thats a lot of kickbacks ,nothing has been levelled at BLATTER, but you cannot run an organisation this rotten and not notice a few little discrepencies as you travel the world in untold luxury with ridiculously rich and 'connected' people.

He's been voted back in ,Russia, PUTIN and the RUSSIAN MAFIA like him and the African states love him, but them goverments wouldn't know anything about corruption n' stuff would they? But SEPP BLATTER is back to sort out this terrible situation .....Hmmmm?

Monday, 31 March 2014

HIROKAZU KANAZAWA...THE MASTER !


When i were 'nobbut a lad' in the 60's n' early 70's ,my dad took me to the FORDS social club and for the next few months i was slung around the mat of the JUDO club......after that closed ,he then took me to a local school were they were doing this KARATE thingey.....This was well before BRUCE LEE and 'KUNG FU' on the telly....KARATE was JAMES BOND,etc chopping guards on the back of the neck to knock them out to aid their attempt at breaking into various secret enemy bases.

That afternoon ,during a school holiday we'd been thrown out of WIDNES BATHS, now long gone ,for being little scally pains in the arse . The guy who slung us out was reasonable and polite ,but you wouldn't argue with him. As we entered the KARATE class for that first time and asked the instructor if we could join in ,we got a shock when it turned out it was the same fellah who slung us out ,but SENSEI JOHN TATTUM didn't seemed to notice and was a nice bloke and over the next few years ,a great sensei teaching KARATE  in all its forms and techniques ,unlike today where it is basically sport orientated and a lot of techniques and basics are neglected.

I discovered 'FIGHTING ARTS' magazine published and edited by the great TERRY O'NEILL, who ,in later years i was blessed in having as my sensei for a few years. One of his two main Japanese senseis that came to ENGLAND in the 60's and ,basically started the whole 'sheebang'!....ENOEDA KEINOSUKE, nicknamed the TIGER!.....And for good reason. He was amazing ,took a love for the UK and stayed and basically made the BRITISH great ,esspecially the LIVERPOOL RED TRIANGLE the best in the world ! With him ,in charge was KANAZAWA HIROKAZU....Who didn't stay as long in the UK, but made his mark as they were two absolute masters of their art and decades later the top karateka's  have these two to thank.

In the FIGHTING ARTS  magazine was an article on KANAZAWA with pictures of flying kicks ,etc ,all great stuff to a killing machine schoolboy, who promptly found two books by KANAZAWA and ENOEDA and much to my shame 'nicked them!

I read a lot about KANAZAWA , he was a bit more 'mystical' and i was fascinated. I met and trained with ENOEDA twice ,i remember accidentally walking into him ,and he stood with golden skin and gleaming white KARATE GI.....He glowed, i was stunned, i mean nothing gleamed in WIDNES!...Then his speed and power was awsome , he scared the living daylights out of me

KANAZAWA who had been a student of the JKA(Japanese Karate Association) in the 70's had some problems and formed his own breakaway organisation the S.K.I.(Shotokan Karate International) which in the years since i think is possibly one ,if not ,the biggest organisation on the planet ,but it meant KANAZAWA spent most of his life criss crossing the globe training seminors for his beloved and faithful followers in the S.K.I.

When i went to live in INDIA i met up with SENSEI  SUBERAMANYAN who i joined up to train at some god awful time ,in the park ,every morning. The difference between my time in LIVERPOOL training with the KUGB(Karate Union Of Great Britain) was that the training was hard and physical and started leaning towards competition, stretching ,tension and grunting and screaming ,but the SKI incorporated TAI-CHI and KANAZAWA had a heavy emphasis on breathing ,which i didn't understand for a long time. I loved the TAI-CHI and would love to get back into it,but theres just no one nearby. SENSEI SUBRAMANYAN then told me after a terrible injury i'd suffered as i was getting back on my feet literally ,we'd moved to KUALUR LUMPUR and he called from INDIA to invite me over as KANCHO KANAZAWA was coming to BANGALORE and would i like to meet and train with him.....Would i /???????

I met him ,spoke with him ,dined with him and he was an amazing man ,a humble ,friendly ,very humourous man. We had a few days training and unbeknownst to me SENSEI SUBRAMANYAN had explained my problems to KANCHOso he watched me over the few days to determine wether i was due to recieve my BLACK BELT. i had been training very slow relaxed excercises as i was trying desperatly to get back into some form of shape, which i did and found the ability to move with speed and power using relaxation. Kancho explained breathing , but i was so used to the grunting way of doing things i couldn't adapt.I had been doing things as i was told never relly understanding ,so much. Only when i started the TAI-CHI and  I met KANCHO KANAZAWA and  SENSEI SUBRAMANYAN did it suddenly make sense.  A year or so later and spent some time with KANAZAWA again thanks to IRENE TCH a good friend and representative for the SKI in MALAYSIA and he explained again his philosophy again. It took a year or so for me to understand and now i have the speed and power and flexibility ,better than any other time in my life by the use of his advice about relaxing ,breathing and harmony. When i read about him now i constantly rediscover something new ,i'm 53 ,but ,at last its falling into place. 

ONE THE DAY IN bangalore After the gradings had taken place ,i was summoned out at the end ,after he'd gone through every single person with a bit of advice for all. I was called 'MISTER TIM', nobody could say LEATHERBARROW, i had to join him on stage as we filled some documents and certificates ,he never said anything about my technique, but said i needed to improve my handwriting!......My Karates fine, but my handwriting stinks!....As i left the stage the whole hall erupted in cheering and clapping for me...After the hell i'd been through.....MRS SUBRAMANYAN was sitting at the back of the hall with a huge smile .....You can take the lad out of LIVERPOOL, but you can't take LIVERPOOL out of the lad..My martial art discipline, walking straight and erect totally collapsed.I held my fist up ,shouted "YEEESSSSSSS!!!!" then burst into tears, i'd survived a life threatening accident ,recovered ,met my hero and he awarded me my black belt ,quite frankly the best moment in my life, family aside!

The poster for the training seminar was a spectacular shot of KANAZAWA kicking a block of ice to smithereens.....When he entered the hall he got a splinter in his big toe and had to wear a bandage tied round it with sort of rabbit ears sticking up. which he thought as funny as me as i burst out laughing ,as everyone else was trying to be subtle and repectful, as i said ...You can take the lad!......

Soke KANAZAWA is in his 80's , i believe he had a skiing accident and is suffering a little ,but retired from 'leggin' around the world constantly ,his excellent assistant instructors who've travelled trained and taught with him for years as well as his sons ,all excellent martial artists in their own right taking hold and carrying the KANAZAWA/ SKI torch onwards.
























Tuesday, 8 October 2013

10% OF RYANAIR PLANES DON'T LAND....AND 100% 0F PASSENGERS HAVE BUGLE INDUCED HEART ATTACKS ,IF THEY'VE SURVIVED THE MENTAL BREAKDOWN FROM ONLINE BOOKING!!!!!


On my way to Ireland the other week to take part in the COOTEHILL CARTOON FESTIVAL....After an intensive period of therapy and various drugs to cure me of a series of mental problems following my multiple attempts at booking a return ticket ,online with RYANAIR!....I had just about recovered from the multiple breakdowns and had been out of the straitjacket for days by this time, as my beloved missus ,the Lovely Lynne dropped me at JOHN LENNON airport ,or as the Scouse still call it SPEKE AIRPORT to get the plane i had suffered so much to get.

We were shuttled through quite quickly ,seated and before we knew it ,off and upwards into the great grotty grey with touches of blue yonder. The stewardesses were very friendly and drinks ,etc were on tap almost right away ,the coffee was nice and the chicken salad butty was lovely. Much to my annoyance the dreaded flying cattle wagon i had imagined was turning into a pleasant flight. Liverpool to Dublin is a veritable 'hop skip n' a jump!' So as we got our food and drink it was almost time to make our approach so the seatbelt sign went on and we had to put our tables up even though we all had our food and virtually full drinks, we had to juggle the two and listen to the usual totally indecypherable  message from our smooth sounding Captain.....Then silence!


.......As the plane swooped down ,i was feeling quite relaxed ,not one to enjoy bumpy landings ,but i was quite calm, then this deafening bugle call boomed out of the speakers ,every passenger on the plane jumped ,what that weighty passenger instantaneous bounce did to the flight path on its approach i dont want to know.....This heart stopping 'Charge of the Light Brigade .'TARA,TARA,TARA!!!!!..... Was followed by an announcement which i thought said.."THANK YOU FOR FLYING RYANAIR!...Where 90% of our flights land?".....I had an image of 10% of RYANAIR aircraft scattered across the land and seas....It was later i realised they were telling us that 90% of their flights landed, ON TIME!....Then off ,straight through the area and to the bar , quite relaxed and dissapointingly pleased with my journey!


The reason i was dissapointed with being pleased and satisfied was because of the hell i went through trying to book on line a few weeks earlier ,it was an absolute bastard of a job and took me a number of shots to get there ,but in the end i got there and tried to print off my boarding pass and couldnt as the printer just gave up and has never worked since, not only did i find myself on the verge of losing my mind, but the printer couldnt stand the strain and gave up the will to print. The flight worked out at a respectable £41 ,but i ticked a low weight for baggage and was automatically hammered for £50 ,as it turned out the bag i took i could've brought on board for free, instead of getting hammered for £90-odd, so much messing with the questionairre i didn't realise 'till too late...(sob, whimper!)

A cartooning friend JON BERKELEY saw the suffering and pain i was going through and forewarded me this bit of FASCINATING AIDA performing 'CHEAP FLIGHTS!' a wonderfully funny skit on the cheapo flights and very ,in fact too close to the truth.

Monday, 1 July 2013

THE WHO HAD THE LIVER BIRDS ROCKING TO QUADROPHENIA ON THE BANKS OF THE 'MERSEY MUD'!!!!!!

















                                                On Saturday night came home to a very 'Ho-Hum' ROLLING STONES'Glastonbury gig ,but the following night we went to see the big boys do it properly. THE WHO  were in the fair city of LIVERPOOL. The ECHO ARENA was 'chokka' and the noise was deafening and we had seats only 20 rows back from ROGER DALTREY. The show was even better than last week at MANCHESTER.. QUADROPHEN'YA has evolved into a real live piece after years of trying to get it on the stage to be performed properly ,well they've 'cracked it!'.....The place went mad. 

Only problem is ,being a short arse i seem to attract all the concert knobheads who have to jump about wave arms, phones and holler and scream at every f**kin' word ,sung or said and insist in telling their mates 'how great this or that bit is'....I was stuck beside some girl who was annoyed as i hadn't given her enough room to dance, so in between dissappearing to the bar or the bogs she got her fellah ,this fat big getto have a word , ,i lost me temper and 'The dreaded Leatherbarrow finger came out'....As i politely explained to him how..."I'd paid 70 f**kin' quid to watch them ,not to argue over the 5 inches that i'd been pushed into 'his space' by the crowd , and would he F**K OFF!!!"It seemed to do the job and he shut his gob. But talking after ,everybody seemed to have their own pet knobhead to drive them nuts! 

But that aside the show was magnificent . PETE TOWNSHEND has connections with LIVERPOOL and seemed pleased to be there....He's the only cockney who can come to LIVERPOOL and call us all "BASTARDS!" and we loved him for it. They seemed pleased to be back in the 'MESEY MUD'. as he called it......You'll probably be pleased to know i'll leave the WHO alone for a while as we wont see them again ,'till who knows?



Friday, 29 June 2012

ROGER DALTREY...QUADROPHENIA...AND LIVERPOOL BOUNCERS THROWING PEOPLE OUT OF TOILETS AT A WHO CONCERT IN A TENT!



A certain famous cartoonist who goes by the name of HUNT EMERSON challenged me to draw the whole of the 'ORRIBLE 'OO'...THE WHO. So, eventually i did ,i managed to scribble ,scrape ,and splatter  a rough likeness of the man with the mighty leather lungs...ROGER DALTREY, from a few years ago. He truly did have and ,even now after a few problems ,still has an awsomely powerful voice. I always thought that PETE TOWNSHEND wrote songs in a spirit of spite to make Roger work . Fans only have to think of classics like 'WONT GET FOOLED AGAIN'..'LOVE REIGN OVER ME'...BABA O'REILLY' and on the list goes ,you dont often hear other people singing WHO songs, basically because i dont think they physically could. I met him once and It was a nice experiance to meet a personal hero and he was shorter than me, or the same height, but not taller. I definitly wouldnt like a smack off him, tho...He used to be a sheet metal worker and he's still got the stocky powerful build and shovel hands.

While i spoke to him i had a mobile and asked Roger if he could give my mate Simon a message .Simon meanwhile was in the process of getting thrown out of the toilets by one of Liverpools fine body of security men ,or BOUNCERS...When Simon asked him to give him a second as he was talking to ROGER DALTREY...The bouncer replied with the immortal line, "I dont care if its fuckin' ELVIS PRESLEY!!"....Roger laughed and told Simon to "BE LUCKY!"

He can be a bit bolchy ,but he says what he thinks ,when he did the WHO show in the LIVERPOOL SUMMER POPS he slagged of the LIVERPOOL CITY COUNCIL, all in there front row seats, much to the joy and pleasure of the crowd behind. The concert was in a massive marque and Roger commented how LIVERPOOL 'The home of rock n' roll' "And they put you in a fackin' tent!"This got a bit of grief  in the papers the following day. The following  night of the second show they laughed it off.   PETE TOWNSHEND said maybe next year they'd have a tin shed to play in.."..maybe thats all we fuckin' deserve!" Wonderful characters....Not friends ,brothers ,always fighting and arguing ,but there for each other if anyone piles in. 

PETE TOWNSHEND wrote QUADROPHENIA and had nothing but pain and trouble ,it was way ahead of its time and proved technically way to far ahead of its time that when they tried to perform it ,troubles erupted. TOWNSHEND, enraged would attack his sound engineer and wreck the sound equipment. Out of the smoke and carnage would be back to the old standards. It wasnt for nearly 30 years before they could contemplate playing the whole thing live.

But tonight across the U.S.A. on cinemas theres a special one off documentary about the making of the album...'THE REAL ME!'..With various concert footage etc, but we've got it on BBC4' tonight ,so we dont have to go out ,a nice take away and put the old SKY+ on. Lots of windmilling and leaping about the living room over the next few days ,methinks.

There is a possibility of THE WHO  doing a tour of QUADROPHENIA ,or "QUADRAFFEENNYA!" As those London chaps say. But up until a few months ago PETE TOWNSHENDS tinnitus and shagged out 'lug 'oles' are screwing up the chances of the faithful getting their WHO fix ,for a while . And i was told that DALTREY  and TOWNSHEND  were fighting over the lineup of the band, 50-odd years of totally disagreeing about everything ,i dont s'pose its going to change any day soon.

Friday, 13 April 2012

ALAN DAVIES a.k.a. JONATHAN 'PRICK'...WONT BE SELLING MANY TICKETS FOR HIS LIVERPOOL SHOWS, METHINKS!!!


Definitley a fan of humour ,but never having thought about there being a difference between humour and comedy ,up until now .Now the world and telly waves are filled up with the new philosophers and intellectuals......Award winning stand up comedians (accompanyed with that annoying speech mark finger waggle)...Comedy has become the premise of an annoying bunch of tossers who fancy themself as smartarses and by being contraversial they're stars and genius in the comedy world. The latest is JONATHAN PRICK himself ...ALAN DAVIES. The sidekick made to look like a cute knobhead to the genius of STEPHEN FRY'S super mind on QI. But he decides he'd make his feelings about the attitude and respect that LIVERPOOL F.C. show towards 96 fans killed at HILLSBOROUGH known on his blog, admittedlyit was  many years ago, but not long enough for the injustices and smear tactics used by the media and authorities against the dead ,injured ,club and city to be exposed and forgiven and real justice for those who suffered and still do. He thinks it should all be forgotten ,but says it in his smart funny way ,so how can us scousers with our legendary sense of humour not be tickled by this legendary wit? I somehow think ALAN DAVIES wont be selling too many tickets in Liverpool for a while.And it does seem Liverpool isn't on his next tour.

Tuesday, 15 November 2011

LOUIS ARMSTRONG INT' AIRPORT; JOHN LENNON INT' AIRPORT....JEDWARD INT' AIRPORT?



I have to admit to being a little dubious when it was announced years ago that LIVERPOOL INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT, or SPEKE AIRPORT as the locals called it, was going to be henceforth known as JOHN LENNON INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT. I just thought it was carrying things a little too far. I'd imagine John sitting on No:9 Cloud pissin' himself laughing. The BEATLES are worl famous and beloved throughout the world ,but it has to be said the hallowed city fathers n mothers havent always held them lovable local rogues in such high regard and for years made no effort to push the legend of the BEATLES. Then respectability is pronounced upon them somewhere along the line and airports are named after them.


I was reading that NEW ORLEANS INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT was going to celebrate SATCHMO himself. LOUIS ARMSTRONG wouldve been 100 years of age , so they were going to call the airport after the great man. not SATCHMO INT' AIRPORT, but , i'd imagine LOUIS ARMSTRONG INT' AIRPORT.....I can hear the famous cackle now. I'd imagine in his time he didnt get treated too respectably being a jazz player n' black! It does seem respectability is something that comes long long after you've popped your clogs, so theres hope for me yet.


But the ideas caught on naming airports after musicians and popstars, etc . Any chance of DUBLIN INT' AIRPORT being renamed JEDWARD INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT?..oh i do hope so!

Tuesday, 27 September 2011

IS ALL THE LIFE IN OUR RIVERS AND STREAMS 'COS OF CLEAN WATER OR 'COS THEY'RE USED TO THE SHIT?



As you go through life you take things for granted...One of those things was , ever since i was young was how rivers and streams were dirty and you should never drink the water, etc, (where would we be without out mummies, eh?).. The simple fact was all those factories pouring out smoke ,smells and chemicals were filling the nearby water supplies with nothing but 'pure shit'. The fair city of LIVERPOOLS, own shit filled tributary THE RIVER MERSEY was legendary amongst shit filled rivers. Upstream we had the fair villages of WIDNES,WARRINGTON,RUNCORN,ETC....All plied high with factories with chimneys pumping shit into the skies and a little more descreetly pipes pumping all kinds of crap into the once crystal waters. All this was washed out into the Irish Sea to meet up with all the shit pumping out of DUBLIN BAY,there was a patch of sea water that the mere thought of is enough to put anyone off ,never mind their dinner ,but eating for life.


Then for some reason it was said that the rivers were becomming cleaner. The whole of the country laughed, never mind all of Liverpool when it was announced the Mersey was getting cleaner. Everyone whose ever sat on a MERSEY FERRY has been astounded at the junk and crap floating on the waters. I used to be very embarressed and jealous at the number of condoms floating about ,it meant most of Liverpool, Birkenhead and all points up stream were having a lot better time of it then i bloody was. Some of them condoms probably still had the wearer connected to them ,judging by the fair number of bodies that were pulled from the murky depths, and probably still are!


There came a time when people started doing ridiculous things like canoeing and wind surfing on the Mersey. "My god! They must be nutters!" going anywhere near the water of the Mersey. Then time passed and people swam in it, and survived?


So now Otters and all kind of creatures and fish are supposedly filling our streams and waterways, is this because the waters cleaner or because they are more resiliant to the quantities of shit?.....And did you know the water in rivers is see-thru?...I'm yet to be convinced about the Mersey, tho'. I notice DAVID WALLIAMS only swam a hundred miles or so along the THAMES, a little gut and bowel trouble aside ,thats easy ,lets see if he can handle 5 miles of the River Mersey.

Tuesday, 14 December 2010

30 YEARS AGO THE OTHER DAY DR WINSTON O'BOOGIE POPPED HIS CLOGS!

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

Tuesday, 16 November 2010

TIM LOOKS COOL IN JEANS ,TEE-SHIRT AND.....9 INCH STILLETTO PLATFORM HEELS ????

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

Monday, 1 November 2010

IF YOU AVOID SHOPPING WITH THE MISSUS BY WAITING IN THE BOOZER,YOU MAY AVOID THE SHOPPING TRIP, BUT YOU MAY STILL END UP FLAT ON YOUR FACE!

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.

Wednesday, 8 September 2010

WAYNE ROONEY SCORED LAST NIGHT AND IT DIDNT COST HIM A PENNY!


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.

Friday, 16 July 2010

IT'S FINALLY HAPPENED, THERES MORE STREET ENTERTAINERS IN LIVERPOOL THAN SHOPPERS!!!...

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?

Wednesday, 12 May 2010

IN WHATS LEFT OF OUR LIVERPOOL HOME;WE SPEAK WITH AN ACCENT EXCEEDINGLY RARE;LIVE UNDER A STATUE ,EXCEEDINGLY BARE,WELL WE DID ,BUT HE'S GOT TO GO...

AND THE LIVERBIRDS COULD BE THE NEXT TO GO!
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.

Thursday, 14 January 2010

ANY DAY NOW THEY'LL LIGHT THE RED TOUCH PAPER! AND GIVE RAFA THE ROCKET!

Every cloud has a silver lining ,for a cartoonist anyhow. Liverpool have had one ,if not the worst season in their history. Only last night being beaten by Reading of all people, at Anfield !(sob).....In fact Reading looked the better side and Liverpool looked the first division side instead of the great premiership side they should be. But on the plus side i can reuse my Rafa getting the' rocket' cartoon again. With his American chairmens launching him, as thats what yanks're good at launching things. In this case from Cape Anfield, has the countdown started.

Monday, 21 September 2009

ZEN AND THE ART OF PICKING YOUR NOSE !

As i wandered through the hustling n' bustling streets of the fine city of clutter that is Liverpool, i wandered past the famous Liverpool Playhouse theatre. I'm highly cultured me y'know i pass posh theatres on my way to scabby back street boozers and drinking dens. Leaning against a poster advertising the playhouses production of 'THE POSTMAN.....(A PLAY BY HAROLD PINTER)', was a cultured 'scally' with his finger shoved so far up his nose it was sticking out of the opposite ear. There he was in a world of his own picking his nose, with n'are a care in the world. I found this a comforting sight and smiled to myself. Nobody picks their nose anymore, it has become a dying art ,another good old British tradition fading away. Nowadays all the kids n' scallies walk around 'gobbing' all over the place, not nice at all , not like picking your nose.


For the dedicated and skilled nosepicker, the index finger is without doubt the tool of choice. If possible for best results the fingernail on this finger should be kept long and taken care of ,much as a classical guitarist does with his thumb and various fingers. This is for when the picking digit is inserted this allows for maximum insertion and optimum 'scrapeage'. Then when maximum point of insertion has been attained it is time to replace upward thrust for ,rotational force. The well maintained, pedicured nose-picking finger will now be able to scrape from its sides. At this point the crystalline deposits which have lined the nasal passages for a few days at least will start crunching and grinding noises and movement of the wall of the nasal passages will be felt and a gelatinous sound and feel will start to take over from the aforesaid crunching and grinding.

Although nose-picking is looked down upon in many quarters ,as are many personal habits, there is no need to not make an effort at deportment and etiquette as you scrape away. I find by raising your little finger, this supplies a touch of elegance to your snotty manouvering. The twisting of the hand and finger through an optimum 180 degrees of turn requires a little flexibility and strength esspecially in the forearms. So, maybe a little excercise to keep you 'at your picking peak' from time to time might be a good idea.


It is at this point where the delicate touch of the artist takes over from the mining engineer. The challenge of the true nose-picker is to withdraw the snotty ore, dilligently dug for into a long drawn out snooty strip from the tip of your diggin finger to the nasal passages and way up the sinuses and to see how long you can draw it out...Before it ...........



......SNAPS !!!!!!!!





Friday, 28 August 2009

QUADROPHENIA; AND GOD! WHAT AN ODD MOD THIS OL' SOD MAKES !

Over the last few weeks yours truly has been a bit of a 'culture vulture', i may not be that cultured, but i've been reliably informed i've got the nose of a vulture. But the nose was mixed in with a bit of culture. While in London i was dragged in to see that X-factoring; Celebrity ice skating Scouser Ray Quinn, in Grease. Which was alright. A week, or so later i was shoved into the Echo Arena in Liverpool Docklands to watch the 'Walking with Dinosaurs' show, which was very impressive. Then in Liverpools good ol' Empire Theatre, as a birthday present from the Lovely Lynne i was taken to see the stage show of QUADRAPHEENYAH !!!
When i saw Grease i wasn't enthused to dress and act like a rocking 50's highschool 'jock'. When i saw the dinosaurs, i was informed i was already like a dinosaur as i was always hungry ,always bad-tempered and always roaring at my beloved little offspring, according to my beloved little offspring. But the PETE TOWNSHEND masterwork was different. It was very well done on the stage. The music and singing was really good and the whole thing was powerfully done, Mods n' rockers knocking 7 bells out of each other ,sex, dancing , pills and scooters, etc all very cleverly done. The energy was there. Whenever i was feeling pissed off i would always whack QUADRAPHENIA on the player, and by the end i was fairly charged up and able to face the world again. The Lovely Lynne would see the Quadrophenia box lying open and inquire, "Feeling better now?". The show had a little of that charge.
I left feeling like a mod. The 'Ace-Face', not just a 'number,'Walking the walk,leading with my chin and shoulders in front of my feet, With my 'Zoot-Suit, "white jacket with side vents 5 inches long"; Button down collars and the best Carnaby Street has to offer..Jump on the scooter with the mass of wing mirrors and with my parka with badges , nip down to Brighton to batter a few rockers. Get high on speed, uppers, downers, leapers and good ol' booze. Dance the night away and work on generating my attitude and cool. But there is a few differences from my imagination and life, as is. The clothes dont come from Carnaby Street, but St George, the Asda cheap range. Haven't got a scooter.But i've got a couple of wing mirrors from an old car in the shed. So, cant get to Brighton. The nearest bit of water is the sandbanks of the Mersey, or the nearest place with pier in the title is Wigan pier, even if there is no pier there. Don't pop pills, as i've got to take enough prescription f***'in' pills anyhow, so i'll chew on a packet of smarties,M&M's, or mint imperials. And i'll dance the evening away ,as long as i get my 10 hours beauty sleep in and the musics not too loud and not 'dance' music. I did have a parka, once, but that was designated a health hazard and dissappeared from my cool wardrobe along with a military combat jacket long ago. I s'pose maybe i've not got what it takes to be a mod, but I've got a few button-down collars and do tend to have the occasional drink(!!!!) , have a bad attitude and i'm cool, but that's 'cos the little'un's left the back door open, in fact i'm f***'in freezing.