TRAVEL MAY NOT BROADEN THE MIND ,BUT IT BROADENS THE HIPS!

Having just returned from a more than well deserved holiday across the Atlantic pond in the wild untamed themeparks of Orlando.Stuffing our faces at a variety of help yourself buffet restaurants and having a lot to drink in everywhere else. In lovely sunny Florida, i caught a cold after getting soaked by that killer whale and the girl he killed a few days later. This drama and adrenaline pumping ride-fest(after 2 hour queues) was followed by a week on a cruise around a bit of the Carribean on a 30-storey, 5 mile long luxury cruise ship. The boats are made that size to accomodate the people who go on cruises(of which we aren't). Very large ungainly ,definitley not streamlined, like the boat ,take time to get' up to speed' and have trouble coming to a stop. So the passageways above and below decks are constantly filled with very strange shaped older people shuffling along. You have to be in possession of swivel hips and boxers feet to avoid collisions. But with the stop offs on various tropical isles and copious amounts to eat n' drink i can think of worse ways to pass my time. Only the other day my beloved 'lovely Lynne'treated me to a breakfast in Asda. (There! I told you she loved me.) There you are one morning on the sunny deck off the coast of Honduras having a luxury gut busting fruit n' pancake breakfast. One week later your choosing what greasy fried combination you want slapped onto your plate in the cafe in Asda ,Warrington.

Once back i have found it damn near impossible to get back to writing this rubbish. Stop clapping and cheering, i'm a sensitive soul you vicious bastards. The brain and the imagination just would not function, absolutly nothing was there to light the blue touch paper of the imagination.And they say travel broadens the mind ? The food and drink might have broadened the hips as the Lovely Lynne keeps complaining. I suppose its just as well i dont write travel books, Bill Brysons got nothing to worry about for a while anyhow. I'll sit and gaze out of the window and see what flotsam and jetsam drifts into the vacumn of my imagination. A total void cannot exist as is proven by the theory of the 'big bang ' suddenly appearing out of nowhere. Maybe i'll have an imaginary' big bang'.......(Ooooh' err, missus!)....Sigh.....only in my imagination!!!

WHAT DO 'THE WHO', SKY +, N' A SORE LEG HAVE IN COMMON?

ME, THATS WHAT!....... A week ago , i woke in the middle of the night shivering and shaking with a raging fever, it was a patriotic fever ,my leg ,where some infection had started (cellulitis, for those clever medical sorts) was red and the rest of me freezing to death was blue except for my clenched jaws and knuckles which were white. The following week was spent in and out of sleepy byes on the setee in front of the telly catching up on all the stuff we'd recorded. This was interuppted by the occasional howls of agony as i tried to stand to go for a pee, which is quite a lot as they've given me so many tablets that i truly do rattle when i move. And to aid the consumption of these truly awful tasting tablets i'm drinking gallons of water and ,of course tea. But all was forgotten and forgiven the other night as i went to bed and left SKY+ on, to record the SUPER BOWL!!!..Not through the slightest interest or understanding of or in AMERICAN FOOTBALL, But because, the Yanks ,Gawd bless 'em ,dont do things by halves.....AT HALF TIME THEY HAD THE WHO IN CONCERT!!!!!! Over here ,half time you go for a piss , over there they watch THE WHO?....I've no idea when they go for a pee, must be during the 8 hours of football, they wouldnt go during THE WHO...Even the Yanks aren't that much of a philestines.
But i hobbled from bed to settee and fast forewarded the SKY+ through the 4n' a half hours of the first half and ,finally there , in all their glory ,PETE TOWNSHEND and ROGER DALTREY! They let rip on an awsome circular platform with light displays ,rockets and lasers and were wonderful. At the start , with the crowd away in the darkness in the middle of a huge empty field with 12 minutes to 'do the works' .Ol' Daltrey started a little hoarse, but by the time they finished with WONT GET FOOLED AGAIN, Daltreys scream was as good as ever he's done .And Townshend 'exploded,' leaping ,windmilling and 'blistering' as only Townshend can. And a poorly sick dying man didn't feel quite so miserable, i almost bounced off the settee and leapt into the air to do a few air windmills ,a'la Townshend ,but that might not've been a good idea. But from there things started looking up . I'd gotten my WHO-BOOST, and i'm going on holiday and i'm walking. Tried a Townshend leap , but soon found out , it probably wasn't the brighest thing i've done recently, nearly pulled my shoulder muscle and landed on my bad leg and nearly bit through my lip stifling a scream. To give you an example of the differences between our transatlantic cuzins and ourselves. Whereas the super bowl half time show was THE WHO. Warringtons half-time rugby league show was....JEDWARD!!!!!.....I cant give a critique on that show as for some reason i didnt record that showbiz spectacular.

I was going to train every day so i'd look wonderful and DANIEL CRAIG-like in my 'cozzy', but i've been flat on my back for a fortnight and my legs all lovely ,blistered with a skin like a blood orange, swollen and where this rough skin has missed the rest is a bright crimson colour, very pretty. The problem is in comparison to the white spindley other leg it looks a little odd. Don't think i'll be bothering with my 'cozzy'!

SIKH DAGGERS AND SAMURAI SCHOOLKIDS DO THE BASH STREET KIDS BECOME THE SLASH STREET KIDS?

School and all aspects of improving our fertile young brains has always been a breathtakingly dangerous experiance. Beginning from the ungodly hour we started the long trekto school and our first bad tempered scowling teacher of the day ,until the trek home at the end of the dayafter our last bad tempered scowling teacher of the day .In those days we did a full day educating , none of this finishing about two o'clock in the afternoon. In the morning we had to get a double decker bus laid on esspecially for us. The bus was absolutly 'chokka-Block 'full.....Then at hometime the same scally hoardes were supplied with a single decker bus ,which if you missed ,well!...Tough shit ,basically!...The bell went at 4 o'clock and the bus was full by 30 seconds past. There was no waiting for sir or miss to give you permission this wasn't school discipline this was a fight for survival. I saw lads break bones on that crush in the home bus, absolutly insane it was....None of your health n' safety for the fruit and hopes of the future in them far flung days.

 I went to a really good grammar school and ,basically being a lazy bastard 'Blew it!'....Thats how i became a cartoonist!....It was run by the De La Salle catholic brothers and when we saw them in their full length black smocks with a little card  white brotherly looking collar....Us little snotty kids totally 'bottled it!'
The headmaster was about 6foot 6" tall ,but they called him 'THE SKULL'... And you only had to look at his thin boney face to know why !....There were civilian teachers, some absolute bastards ,but all quite happy to inflict pain in a variety of cunning sneaky , ingenious ways , which even as you were being battered you had to admire the skill and technique only attained through years of practise that was going into the infliction of pain into you !

Fear was the tool by which the knowledge and education was crammed into our totally uninterested boyish brains. Homework was only done if you were afraid of the teacher of that subject, but even then it wasn't done at home. The work was copied off someone on the bus in the morning and finished in the classroom before lessons began. The work was in two , blindingly obvious stages ...Firstly the totally indecipherable writing done while crammed on the moving bouncing  bus. Secondly , the slightly less awful ,but twice as rushed from the fairly stable classroom before the lesson began.

When we had playtime we had 47 -a-side games of 'footy' with a TENNIS BALL'???....Which for obvious reasons resulted in busted toes ;twisted ankles ,but most annoyingly ,for parents causing a pair of shoes to last about a week!

. I've never smoked in my life, but a lot of my mates would go around the back of some sheds and trying to look cool puffing ,gasping n' coughing on some ciggies. The teachers all knew when and where they wer so just took turns to leave the ciggie smoke filled staff room to grab the kiddie smokers and haul them out. Not having had a fag, when i tried to plead my innocence i was told "SHUT UP, LEATHERBARROW!"...But not me ,in my never ending quest for right and justice i would go on and on and in  the end would find myself in front of the BRUCE LEE of the cane....BROTHER DAMIAN....'THE SKULL'....He whizzed that cane like BRUCE LEE'S nunchuka's. If you see any of my old teachers and mention me they will probably be suprised i'm still alive as they thought i was smoking about 70 ciggies a day when i was 12.

Many of you ol' farts out there will remember reading the BEANO, DANDY,SPARKEY, BEEZER, etc,etc full of good ol' tales of kids getting' whacked' by 'teecher'!.....In fact, like me many will remember the various forms of torture and tools of torture that were used in real life. The canes old, new, battered ,thick, thin ,long, short; As were the belts; Pumps ,galloshes and even rugby boots. But the simplest were the unerring accuracy of the piece of chalk or board duster which flew across a class of snotty little schoolboys as if controlled by a form of laser guidance system avoiding the 'innocent'and homing in on the guilty target, normally just above the nose. And of course there was the unarmed torture; Pinching earlobes; Pulling the hair that would one day become your manly sideburns; Various,pinching, prodding, poking, pulling, slapping, etc, etc, all good fun, but i have to admit it did keep us in a form of control and discipline which the snotty little bastards of these more enlightened days have no concept of. Now teachers have no defence against the snotty little monsters they have to face. As we live in more enlightened times and every classroom is filled to the gunnels with all race and creeds; Languages ceremonial dress, etc, etc. But it has turned dangerously insane....

Awhile ago a Sikh judge  decreed that a Sikh boy shouldnt've had his ceremonial dagger taken from him in school one day. So whereas everybody ,in schools, colleges, airports, etc aren't allowed to carry sharp implements of any kind, schoolkids can carry ceremonial daggers into the class. Soon Japanese Samurai schoolkids will go for lessons with their Katana sword; Scottish kids'll have a Dirk down their sock like the children of Gurkhas with their Kukri's. English kids can have a sabre, the welsh can have an axe, the irish have their swords and shelaleoughs(sorry about the spelling). Various other peoples around the world in lots of nice places dont seem to carry swords, but carry AK47 machine pistols or rocket launchers, but i'm not totally sure there for ceremonial reasons......Must be wonderful being a teecher, once all they had to worry about was catapults(yes, i actually made one that worked, it wasn't just Dennis the Menace) and the variety of inky,snotty,flemmy things that could be flicked from a ruler, a ceremonial wooden 12 inch school ruler, before they became ceremonial 30 cm plastic school rulers.

OH, OH, OH WHAT A LOVELY PROFITABLE WAR!!!!

Once upon a time there was a time when 'our boys'...Who've neveractually gone to war, butmore along the lines of having been sent to war. But they'd go off to the land of the baddies and give them a good seeing to and the flag would flutter high and proud over the latest aquisition to the empire. All well and good and perfectly reasonable. 'our boys ' would be armed and ready and well supplied for any eventuallity or resurgence of 'baddies' activities that may and normally did occur in the future. Our latest military jaunt has taken 'our boys' to that desolate hell hole that was, is and will always be Afghanistan. Why we're there? who knows! How long we're there for?....Who knows!....All we know is that a group of fellahs living in the mountains who've never been defeated by various invaders throughout history, even the might of the Soviet army and they're next door neighbours. These sweethearts're blowing the hell out of our badly equipped and funded 'lads', (gawd bless the politicians) with roadside bombs n' booby traps ; rockets and a variety of 'stuff guarenteed' to upset a good nights sleep, if you knew that some psychotic nutjob was on a hill nearby overlooking your base armed to the teeth with said 'stuff'. But the politicians have decided we shall not curl up and surrender!.....No, we're British!....WE'LL PAY THEM TO RENOUNCE VIOLENCE!!!!!.....So the British taxpayer will be comforted in the knowledge, that, instead of paying for equipment for 'our boys', we'll be paying to keep their boys happy.

And this groundbreaking military genius doesnt end there, no! The 'Homeland,the battlefield that is 'good ol' Blighty, herself'. As we all know and the 'spooks' in MI5, and all the various security and police departments know there are hoards of terrorists living free and easy in the land that they want to blow to hell. Apparently their assetts are frozen and money spent must be accounted for with receipts ,much as any businessman must do. But this is, TERRORRISTISM, so no checks any more on our terrorrists they can help themselves to any money and benefits they are no doubt entitled too. There, that'll show 'em.

INVADE OR SEND IN AID, THERES NO DIFFERENCE TO THE GOOD OL U.S.

After the horrific eartquakes that hammered the hell out of Haiti the other week, people still manage to survive ,even though there was a terrible loss of life, illness and injury and streets full of rubble and rubbish; A goverment totally useless and unable or unwilling to help its people....Basically at the end of the day the standard of living post disaster isn't that much different than it was before. The main shock to the world is that people ignored the place when it was a poverty stricken shit hole, but now its gained a bit of respectability being a disaster zone it has the eyes and attention of the world on it for now, anyhow. Pop stars that most Haitians have been fortunate enough never to have heard and movie stars they've never seen, and , of course Cheryl Cole and Simon Cowell, who even the Haitians know. They've all got together to have give a hand and be sincere. Stars and politicians(which are very similar creatures in the U.S.) spoke of rebuilding Haiti, giving the locals work; rebuilding the infrastructure and industry, imports and exporting produce ,etc, etc. All very nice and sincere, but stuff that Haiti never had or did in the first place.

Aid workers powered in from all over the place and did their best, as did the U.S. But even the locals as well as all the other countries were angered and upset the way the US took over 'the show', as the military literally invaded the island. The US have a long history of sending aid and 'security advisors' to help protect , help and police foreign reigions, its just getting them to go home after thats the tricky bit.

THE PRO'S N' CONS OF REAL FALSE FOOTS AND REAL ARTIFICIAL ARMS !

Now that ,'I'm a celebrity, x-Factor and all the rest of the shit on the box that makes life so worth living is over for now, except for Big Brother, but nobody actually watches that, do they? but now as we're 15 feet in snow drifts the 'finger on the pulse' telly execs give us celebrity ice skating. The main reason i dont like the ice skating is because whenever they show the skaters crashing to the ice, my arse twitters and my teeth grind as it makes me cringe seeing people fall on ice. The other thing that makes me cringe is seeing people hit with cricket balls. I've suffered injuries from ice and cricket balls and still get the oral and anal clenches when i see it happen on the telly. So the forthcoming weekends are going to be periods of tension for me as celebrities go arse over tit left right n' centre.

One of the celebrities is the ex-Mrs McCartney, probably not the most popular of people ,but trying for the public vote with smiles and dancing, good luck to her, esspecially as she's only got one foot. She can't win as i've already heard people commenting on how the foot will be a handicap ,but she's using it as an excuse to stay in the competition, a little unfair, i think, but people will think the worst of celeb's, all part of the job, m'dearies.

But whose to say she wont go all the way. I've seen and personally know people with false legs/feet. A member of my family lost his leg as a lad in the 50's, so his leg was a wooden heavy thing, but he still played Irish football and Hurling and still is very active. I have a wonderful picture of him doing the Can-Can, in a bar in Ireland at a funeral. He kicked his leg out and the foot went sailing across the lounge. The photo shows a mass of bog-eyed drinkers watching this flying foot. I must point out ,it was deliberatly loosened, he's a lad is 'our Sean.' But the handicap never handicapped him.

When i 'were nobbut a lad', i used to see all the film baddies; Ersnt stavro Blofeld; Dr No; Dr Strangelove; Mr Han, from 'Enter the dragon', they all had false hands ,and some used to have one hand in a leather glove, which i thought looked great, so i could often be seen with one glove on. A few of the baddies hands could crush bricks, except Mr Han who used to unscrew his hand off and replace it with various weapons like a tigers claw, or a knife hand, to cut chunks out of Bruce Lee in the hall of mirrors at the end of Enter the dragon. There was also an excellent comic strip called 'The Steel Claw', and i really fancied having a steel artificial hand. On the whole i think i'll stick with my god-given extremities, at least until cybernetic technology is up to the level where i can become the Six Million Dollar man for a few bob less.

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.

GLOBAL CATASTROPHE, WILL IT BE GLOBAL WARMING; GLOBAL TERRORISM, OR GLOBAL ELVIS IMPERSONATORS???

During mankinds tenure upon this planet he has gone through various changes, mutated, evolved if you like. Standing upright, loss of body hair (which was alright ,but could've stopped when it came as far as the head, body fur ,well thats ok, but the old bald patches up top, now that was nature and evolution at their most petty.). The apes snout becoming a nose and mouth. The bright red monkey bum breaking up into smaller piles. But this evolution hasn't stopped yet. In the next decade a vast one third of the worlds population will develop swivel hips, on the way to evolve into wobbly bellies; Strangely gangly swinging knees; Highly curlable sneering top lips; Impossibly high greasy quiffs, with long wide sideburns. Language will undergo a change also, as a strong midwestern American twang type dialect prevails and phrases such as, "Well thank yuh very much ladies n' gentl'm'n... Ooh,Hoh!" and references to how you don't look like nuthin' like a'Hound dog', wich is important in the world of Elvis, apparently.... Dress will evolve as collars will be as high as the head and a form of jump suit with rhinestones and big belt buckles and a small cape will be the wardrobe of choice.



This is the dawn of the ELVIS PRESLEY IMPERSONATOR....Apparently ,there was some news report along the lines of:"When Elvis was alive, there was only a hundred or so impersonators, but now since his death the number is into hundreds of thousands, or something. But by the end of this new decade 2020(god, only 10 years away.)....At this rate of growth...ONE THIRD OF THE WORLDS POPULATION WILL BE ELVIS IMPERSONATORS!!!!! I thought that was the best news item of the year....But i can't help wondering what percentage of the other two thirds left will be, MICHAEL JACKSON IMPERSONATORS?

ONLY A FEW DAYS INTO THE NEW DECADE AND I'M SITTING SURROUNDED BY THE BROKEN REMAINS OF MY NEW YEAR/DECADE RESOLUTIONS.....

Yep!...I'm back, its only been a decade since last we spoke, so you probably haven't even noticed my absence as you recover from the festive session of sinful debauchery and overindulgence I'm proud of you, my children. So, as all you fellahs have got to squeeze all the new socks n' undies in to the bulging drawers full of socks n' undies from last year. And you ladies steal some more of that precious cupboard space for all them nice trendy cloths you got. Women never get knickers n' tights, no, they get nice things like cloths n' jewellery. Ah, such is the mans lot, be it the festive season or not ,to suffer to keep our ladies happy.
Christmas is a lazy slobby time of year ,sitting stuffing your face with food drink and sweeties. I doubt many of you have even set foot outside into the frost, snow and cold in over a fortnight.With about 4 stone in weight added to your fine physiques ,its not just the cloths getting tighter, but there doesn't seem to be as much room on the setee either. A strange thing happens, you get a little restless watching the telly and being warm and cosy all the time. Your watching festive films busting with endlessly repeated adventure and excitment; joy and happiness beamed through the flattened cathode ray tube. And tear-jerking things like Noel Edmonds christmas present All these things build you up ,ready for that annual total waste of time ,The NEW YEAR RESOLUTION!!!!!... The films, etc make you decide."Right ,this year, i'm going to make this year as full and exciting and as enjoyable as i can!".......And Noel Edmunds will have you in tears, swearing blind that you are going to help charity , the poor and needy and you are there to help your fellow man. This one ,thankfully, lasts only a very short period, possibly 10 minutes or so.....Wipe the tear away, put the kettle on and watch HOLIDAY ON THE BUSES, or something. That'll bring you back to Earth. The resolution to have a 'whizz-bang exciting year', may take a little longer. This includes taking care of yourself; Going to the gymn;Packing in the fags; Laying off the pop, etc.....But, you swear to all the gods you follow 2010 will not be spent and wasted, sitting around and allowed to grind by, like most others.........
Its the first monday of the new year/decade and i'm sitting watching the telly with a mug of tea, haven't gone to the gymn, took the dog out,done any reading( Spiderman on the bog doesn't count ,i don't suppose?)......Not a lot of effort gone into the first few days, but theres plenty of time....Isn't there?

A MERRY WOTSIT N A HAPPY NEW DUH DAH!

OK! One n' all have a good festive session(hic)..................
All the best madbad',Lovely Lynne, The Little 'un n' Charlie Bucket (the efn' dog) xxxxxxxxx

WALKING THROUGH THE SNOW, STRIDING THROUGH THE WOODS LIKE JEREMIAH JOHNSON,WALKING ON THE PAVEMENT LIKE JOHN INMAN....

Wahey,its snowing!...It never snows up here in the North West , something to do with the sea air(?) ,probably more due to the fact that up here we manufacture and produce smoke and pollution something we lead the world in, Britain should be proud of the area around the Mersey, Widnes, Runcorn, Warrington. But for some reason we've got snow, maybe the smoke makers have been made redundant like everybody else, or output has been reduced to make Gordon Brown look good during that debacle on climate change. But the skies are a mucky grey and the ground is crunchy and white and theres more snow on the way. The good ol' uk has ground to a halt ,i couldn't give a shit and my daughter is crying with joy, cos its snowing.
I took the dog out, put my cissy warm furry gloves on and my treaded caterpillar boots and crunched out into the blizzard. When we reached the local woods i was striding through the drifts like ROBERT REDFORD in the wilds of the North West frontier in JEREMIAH JOHNSON. But that wild pioneering spirit came to a sudden end once i returned to the icey roads and pavements. Then i was walking more like JOHN INMAN, as my legs were squeezed tightly together and my step didnt exceed more than 6 inches, or so. The dog was all over the place sniffing, snow covered clumps of grass (n' stuff?), and like an old string spinning top, the ones were you wrapped the string around and pulled ,thus causing the top to spin. The bloody dog understood the concept, ran around me with his lead then bolted to a bush to have a sniff, leaving me in a ice dancing -type spin, leading into a technically difficult arse over tit manoeuvre resulting in me lying spread eagled on the ground, cursing all that is canine. As i walked and my feet were slipping , i thought ,"I know i'll have a slide, like when i was a kid."So, i had a short run up, stopped dead and fell flat on my face!....On the main road in my John Inman guise, and getting worse as the muscles on the insides of my legs were pulling and as tight as guitar strings. There wasn't a soul about, not even on the road, until i got to the post office and there was a queue of about 70 people.Eventually went out again,and not a living soul to be seen.

A bin wagon came flying around the corner and went into a slight skid, i just happened to be in the line of skid and i nearly fell asleep as my life was flashing before my eyes. I was kept awake fighting to get my gloves off so i could get a pen out of my pocket to will all my lack of belongings and debts to the Lovely Lynne. But fate and good fortune(well i thought it was good) took a hand and the trucks skid was arrested and he chugged off. Almost killed by a bin wagon, hmmmm!....Yes i know!
The dog didnt seem to slip or slide, so i put it down to its doggy pads on its paws. I know,thinks i," i'll do it the natural way and go barefoot", the clumps of dead skin on my feet will be like the dogs paw pads. So i tried it. The ambulance brought me home after being found 30 yards from home unconcious suffering from extreme exposure; extreme hyperthermia;pneumonia,with a dash of pleurisy. Its been 2 days and i can't feel below my knees, an area of a faint bluish colour. The doctor said if it goes green ,get the kitchen knife out and give him a call anytime after boxing day.

THERES A REASON A POP STARS APPRENTICESHIP IS ONLY 3 MONTHS AND A PLUMBERS IS ABOUT 3 YEARS!....

Now that the X FACTOR has finally finished for the fortnight or so before it starts all over again as 'Britains got talent on ice, get me outta here,' or whatever.But what becomes of the would be pop stars. These people sweated ,slaved, shrieked n' warbled their way to the finals of the show. Until, a wee 16 year old cute, smiley little lad from the North- east who, that pain in the arse collection of skin bone n' hair, SHERYL COLE kept ,endlessly announcing, how" she really loved him, like a little brother and was sooo proud of him, etc, etc,, and on n' on" , (in a geordie accent,of course.) finally won and his single normally the x mas no 1 was out before he left the stage. But evil scheming was afoot....Some facebook petition or something put foreward an old song by an American rock/rap, or rap/rock band called 'AGAINST THE MACHINE', maybe that was a dig at Simon C's hold over the xmas no1, But a yank band with an old odd rocker made the top spot(what would Simon Bates say?)...That was the big news. So our little Geordie pop star, after his 3 month apprenticeship to become a pop star can only make no 2, shame on him. They should take his certificate of pop star proficiency away from him, he's failed his first big job.

Now whats a cute sugary little pop star to do? There must be work for cute young pop stars with nice teeth. Put an add in the Johnsons directory or the Yellow Pages. He would have to decide wether to go under 'P' for pop star ,or 'C' for cute. But in an in depth conversation with my daughter, i mentioned we'd have to look up the number of a not necessarily cute plumber to do some jobs around Leatherbarrow towers. We dont need a cute pop star, but she thought we should ring a cute pop star to come around maybe to seranade the plumber as he unblocks the sink. So if theres workmen about or noise ,nothing on the telly ,look up and compare prices of cute qualified (ex-X-Factor finalists) pop stars in the phone book.

TIGER WOULD IF HE COULD AND HE DID, AGAIN, AND AGAIN AND AGAIN AND AGAIN AND AGAIN, HE'S AN ADVERTISERS DREAM!!!

Whose a naughty boy, then?...That angelic beloved all American home-loving ' mom's apple pie- loving 'Family man ,TIGER WOODS. Thats who! His scorecard is getting bigger by the day as cocktail waitresses ;porn queens and various lavicious ladies pop their bleached blonde heads over the publicity parapet to tell their heart rending story of life as one of the 'Tiger babes'. All, sobbing and blubbering with heartfelt American 'Oprah' emotion, how, as the old joke says "He's been unfaithful to all of us!". Now they are telling his wife , as his scorecard goes up towards the low 20's, that it would be worse for her if he just had one lover, rather than 26.Which i'm sure will put it all in perspective and cheer her up no end. I'm not sure she'll be convinced by the logic of this argument. I'm damn sure i wouldn't like to be the one to argue this aspect of Tigers defence with a woman scorned(x26), esspecially with so many top quality golf clubs lying about the house within reach of her manicured hands. I mean did you see what she did to his car. I remember when this whole wonderfully sordid and sleezy affair was just a threesome,a car, a tree and a water hydrant. After the crash Tiger was supposed to have been saved by his wife smashing the windscreen to save him. Whereas we now know she was probably trying to get into the car to stop her husband ever getting out ,ever again.

I seem to remember Woods being off the golf circuit for a while with a back injury. No need to think too hard about how that possibly came about. Then the worlds greatest swinger with the worlds greatest swing had to undergo intensive coaching for his swing. They must've been interesting sessions. Woods, irons, holes ,bunkers, slices, holes in one, etc, etc, suddenly have a host of different meanings, just count the number of Tiger Woods jokes you n' your friends got texted to see what i mean.

What amazes me is the advertisers pulling out of using Tiger Woods to front their products. How blind and stupid can they be. Golf is a big earner ,but nowhere as big as sex! Yeah, ok, he was an outstanding sportsman and many people respected his skill and talent and wholesome persona. But now with all this 'stuff' going on, Tiger Woods is the 'Daddy!'.... Every teenager and man in the world will look at him with his protein drinks; after shaves; various 'stinky stuffs'; ranges of clothes. And now the whole sex aids market is open for 'the king'. And all these people will say "yeah i'll have some of that!" .And Tiger Woods is the hero for every horny male on the planet,of which there are more than a few, even those who didn't know he used to play golf.

ANIMATION SHOULD BE DRAWN OR MODELLED, YOU CAN STICK YOUR C.G.I. UP YOUR PIXAR(SE).

These two drawings are my entries for the wonderful SHREWSBURY CARTOON FESTIVAL. The GORGON drawing was inspired by that great old film ,JASON AND THE ARGONAUGHTS. And i noticed that over the festive period they're showing that other ol' classic 1000000 MILLION YEARS B.C. These are two model- based animated films by that wonderful RAY HARRYHAUSEN. All the monsters, gorgons, giants, etc, in the Argonauts epic and the dinosaurs fighting RAQUEL WELSH...As far as i know she wasn't animated by Harryhausen and is all real, but that could be a matter of opinion. Then model animation has in its corner the WALLACE AND GROMIT stuff, made from plasticene, all great stuff. Lest we forget , not so much animation ,but definitly model-based is all the GERRY ANDERSON stuff and still looking good after all these years since i started watching SUPERCAR and FIREBALL XL5, as a wee lad in me short pants (Don't wear them so much now, just for special occassions). The other day i was watching a couple of old DISNEY films on the box, THE JUNGLE BOOK, and THE ARISTOCATS. And i loved them, the characters , some were hilarious, especially two dogs in the ARISTOCATS. The other thing was that the voice and characters were studio personnel, not 'Superstars', Brad Pitts, EDDIE MURPHYS, ETC, ETC and all that stuff, just character actors voicing the cartoons, a lot funnier and a lot cheaper. Then, of course, the WARNER BROS cartoons. I still wet myself laughing at the relatively simple drawn stuff, and characterised by the voice of one man the astounding MEL BLANC. Bugs Bunny; Daffy Duck; Foghorn Leghorn; Sylvester n' Tweety, etc,etc all done by one man.

I've been to CGI and PIXAR films and although some are very clever ,there just doesnt seem to be any soul there, no spirit, i smile, but dont laugh, theres the difference for me between the old and the new. Yes, i know, as i've been constantly reminded i'm a miserable old fart.

All the CGI is making all the live action films go and look totally over the top and busting a gut to cram as much chaos and graphic activity into the screen as ic digitally possible and to my mind makes them all look very similar. The actors dont need to go to locations, etc just go into a blue or green room and pretend they're in space or somewhere weird talking to a martian or monster, or even at the head of a 10000000000 soldiers. Watch one of these films ike TROY then watch some of the epics like BEN HUR, or SPARTACUS, or WATERLOO, or the KURASAWA epics where they had millions of extras and it shows, even if some of your Roman Leigions are wearing watches, or theres a bus passing in the distance, all part of the fun. Has anybody actually seen the car in the background of the chariot race in Ben Hur?

And now its Christmas time again, the repeats are running even more regulary then normal and in between everything theres the celebrity cooking programmes. Where our culinary hero whizz through a variety of 'simple but effective' xmas recipes"that anyone can make"...Sprinkling and splashing all kinds of liquids and powders and diced stuff "Bish, bas bosh!"..There y'go ! A sooper x mas dinner or variation, thereoff . I think the only people who come out on top after christmas are these bloody celebrity chefs

THE NOISY,FLEMMY,FARTY INTERNAL POWER OF KARATE.

As everybody knows theres two things KARATE is famous for, one is the never failing to knock 'em out Karate chop beloved of every spy and war film ever made, and ,of course the "hiyaa!" karate yell that was almost, not so much a fighting yell, but a magical incantation to ensure the bad guys would go down and stay down. But where once the martial arts were secret techniques, 'one touch n' yer dead', etc, nowadays training isn't done in a monestary atop a snowcapped mountain in the middle of a mysterious mountain range where the students train 24/7 on a bowl of rice a year, until their master slings 'em out to batter the baddies, or goodies on the outside untrained world.

No, today, clubs are visited by the students a couple of times a week after a day at the office, at a church hall or local leisure centre as part of their membership package. And the training is mainly for competition and is kicks and punches and' gettin' em in' before your opponent does. But although the mysticism and traditionality of the martial arts may well be neglected in these modern days. The training has to be a lot less harsh as ,well, they'd loose members. But one thing thats thriving is the 'KIAI', or to the unenlightened out there the shout.

The basis of most martial arts is internal energy and in Karate the base of the energy ,or CHI, if you want to get technical is the lower part of the stomach, about where the knot of the belt is located and this area is known as the HARA. So when you throw a punch, f'rinstance ,strange as it may seem the muscles in the arms aren't the main motivating areas of force,and should be totally relaxed. The power comes from the lower body, legs and trunk. The breath is exhaled powerfully from the hara by the muscles of the stomach, and the DIAPHGRAM. The big floor of muscle under the lungs.

The KIAII, is an art in itself. If you sit in on a class theres all kinds of shouts ,screams, grunts,snorts, blowing and hissing. Funnily enough some actually say the word as if they were reading it, "kiaii,"or "Hiyaa!"... The idea is to inhale through the nose and use the mouth to exhale, but a combination of respiratory entries and exits seem to take place, depending on how people feel themselves or purely because they're knackered and trying to get the air in and still get the draining power out of their flagging body.

Breathing in through the nose and out through the nose( THE SNORT) can leave you with globules of snot down your face and on the chest of your suit(GI)...Out through the mouth(THE GRUNT) can project spit n' snot globules into your partners face which can complicate things on occassions. There is also when inhaling and exhaling takes place through the mouth(THE GASP), Which can result in much spit and mucus, as exhaustion rears its ugly oxygen starved head, this is often combined with stomach turning wafts of bad breath from deep down in the lower stomach of your opponent. It is one way of spoiling the fight, if you were spoiling for a fight. But the sudden tensioning of the diaphgram and the explosive discharge of the air in your lungs can have a humiliating side effect. While the majority of the stomach tension drives the exhalation up , there is occasions when the explosive tension can drive down and as you go in for the kill with your terrifying "KIAIIIII!!!"....This is accompanied by an equally frightening thunderous "PHARRRTTT!!!!".....But the accomplished martial artist can turn this humiliation to their advantage ,by giving them a smack while they're still laughing.

AND A SIGN THAT EVEN MORE WATER ONCE EXISTED ON THE MOON !

Once not long ago the solar system was totally airless and waterless. Now we've discovered atmospheres ,however thin on various moons and planets, but more amazing we've found water on , well every where we've looked. The moon , originally totally void of everything has been found to have water. No atmosphere ,virtually absolute zero temperatures and theres water. Mars also full of the stuff. The moon Europa under a thin layer of ice ,is supposed to be a salty sea with volcanic vaults heating the water and very similar conditions to volcanic reigions way down at the depths of our oceans, where ,supposedly nothing can exist, but has recently been found to be teeming with various life forms, so Europa becomes the main favourite in the solar system for life. In fact ,Arthur C Clarkes book of 2001, is about aliens giving man the means to explore and colonise the solar system, but to leave Europa alone. Europa's surface is not joined to the planetary core ,seperated by the water layer the moons surface rotates at a different rate to its core, betcha' didn't know that did ya? It seems theres so much water knocking about there should be a hugh rainbow stretching across the solar system.

Its only recently that they've found all this water with various probes dropping or crashing into the lunar or martian surfaces. Thats why BALLCOCK O'BARNPOT,the afro irish president of the US ofA ,got his nobel peace prize ,cos he didnt fire any missiles on Earth, but blasted 2 into the Moons south pole, so if the face of the 'man in the moon' is looking shocked and slightly cross eyed, well, so would you with 2 rockets exploded up your 'jacksy'!..And if they did they'd find a lot more than water, methinks.

I still think its all fantastic. the other day i was looking at pictures of the VIKING lander all those years ago of the martian surface, and they still take my breath away. I wanted the LOVELY LYNNE to paper the walls with these martian horizons, but typical woman, she refused. I suppose it would look a little odd with the martian horizon with a central heater and couches and telly. I s'pose the picture if the VIKING had landed in some martian living room.

THE BIKE MIGHT BE GOOD FOR YOUR HEALTH, BUT THE TOE CLIPS WILL KILL YOU !

Being fat n' lazy is by far the most and natural human condition, but with politicians ,celebrities, supermodels,Trinny and Suzanna, etc, etc, all pushing healthy diets and slim figures and god forbid fitness at us being a lazy get is, saddly frowned upon, its not trendy and 'in', but one day it'll come back 'in', what goes aroun, comes around, oh happy days. Fitness is a horrible condition as it takes a lot of work and effort which nobody really likes having to do. You go into the leisure centres, i dont know why they call them leisure centres. I mean to me leisure is taking it easy, passing time relaxing, having a good drink, whatever, not pushing my cardiovascular and respiratory levels through the roof. Names like Fitness world, much more Hernia land or bust a gut world or gasp centre. It is a totally surreal experiance going into these places and seeing brightly, trendily attired men and women , running ,walking, stepping, pushing ,pulling, bending, thrusting, grunting, gasping, shouting and occassionally breaking down in tears. Very leisurely.

But the outdoor training, the more natural, running from A-B, or cycling. I've never enjoyed running. I played footy and rugby and was a fair old sprinter, but with an ankle injury and a loathing of jogging i dont run, but i do have a bike and was getting back into good long rides before the weather 'set in.' The roads are dangerous enough, a lot worse than i seem to remember from when 'i were a lad.' The main problem i have is with the bloody toe clips on the pedals. Without them you could mount your bike like a cowboy mounting his horse, but with the clips you have to position yourself astride the seat, put one foot in and then push off. When your moving ,you have to flip the other clip over to insert your other foot in. Sometimes,'Dead easy!', no sweat, whatsoever. But other times, your flipping the pedal time and time again, looking down at the damn pedal. Then your alerted by such give away signs like car horns ,or even truck air horns blaring at you as you've wobbled into the middle of the dual carriageway. Looking up to the the cars , not only behind you, but coming at you.

There is a road nearby where they filmed,'DEATH RACE 2000'... The drivers get points for all the pedestrians and bikeriders they can run over. I was on the pavement trying to get my clips on when i suddenly found myself crashing arse over tit throuh thorns and bushes. I crawled battered and scratched out onto the pavement trying to unravel the bike from the undergrowth, and desperatly trying to retain some dignity by looking from side to side to see if anyone had noticed, my cycling hiccup. When i finally got branches out of the spokes,and staunced my bleeding from copious cuts and scratches, etc and set off, for about 50 yards and thebike started bumping and rattling along. I'd gone and burst my 'f***'in' tyre. Just as well the bike was a lightweight frame as i had to carry it the rest of the way home. I was buggered if, i was going to take the tyre off and sit by a bowl of water trying to mend my puncture, thats for schoolboys, i took it to the shop and it was fixed in minutes, had to pay, but we've got to help the small buisnessman and keep the economy afloat and stay fit.But i'm still tempted to get rid of them toe clips.

POOR AUSTRALIA, FIRST WE DUMPED OUR CONVICTS ON THEM AND NOW ITS WORSE THEY'VE GOT OUR CELEBRITIES!

TThe winter officially started with the X-Factor and Strictly Come Dancing assaulting our tellie over every dark cold rainy windswept weekend night, but now its the official run-in to christmas as the new series of 'I'm a Celebrity , get me out of here'. Or more like "If your a celebrity , get outta here!" As a heap of nobodies and deadbeats from other reality shows;cooking and house decorating shows; A couple of once upon a time sports stars, etc, etc.Theres a couple that my long time since it had a finger on it pulse(!!!) recognised: Sam Fox, The fave page 3 years ago, i think she was ousted by Linda Lusardi, who's now an ex soap star, as Sam's an ex pop star, has anyone got, or even seen the albums?...Ah the glamour!

Hollywood legendary walking suntan ,George Hamilton with his luminous teeth. He'll be a nuisance at night as all the bugs and creepy crawlies will cross the jungle along with bigger beasties with bigger teeth, all attracted by the light of Georges teeth. But he'll be fine in one of the tasks in a pitch black cave full of rats, etc. All he has to do is smile and the cave will be lit up, bright as day.

My favourite was the news that Katie Price,a.k.a.Jordan wasgoing to return to the jungle. Last time she met her ex-husband,wonder what the jungles got in store for our super 'celeb' this time.The news footage said how she was on five times the money everyone else was on, can't you feel the love she's after already. But as she was filmed always with her blueberry/blackberry, whatever firmly clamped to her lug'ole,as a true'celeb' should. On the way to 'oz, she stopped at L.A. to get her nails done and her hair extensions, extended. Its an old S.A.S. jungle survival technique. I'm just suprised the airlines let her above 10,000 feet in case her boobies( they're not real, y' know) exploded, if one of them went off, never mind two, they'd blow a 747 out of the sky.

Jimmy White was never a sex symbol of the snooker world, but age hasn't been too kind to him.You could say he's gone to pot! And as i type away ,Joe Bugner has come on. Telling the rest about all the Australian beasties as he's lived in 'oz' for years and as EVERYTHING in Australia is specifically designed to kill you, he unintentionally scared the shit out of them.

The only bit i like is Ant n' Dec, it is very annoying as much as i try i can't hate them. In fact i watched their film ALIEN AUTOPSY, which, actually was quite good.

YOU CAN EQUAL THE EQUALISER, BUT YOU CAN'T EQUAL CALLAN...EDWARD WOODWARD (R.I.P.)

The hardest toughest meanest fellah on the telly has gone and popped his clogs, the wonderful EDWARD WOODWARD has died. People think of tough mean spies like James Bond and Jason Bourne, etc, but the meanest and most ruthless was a fellah in an old suit ,a battered macintosh and a wooly scarf tied in the old fashioned way your dad and grandad would've tied it ,not the trendy way of tying scarves beloved of every 'celeb' these days. He had one friend ,a pathetic smelly little man called 'Lonely', who ,when he wasn't beating him up, used to remark on his lack of personal hygene as he gulped his whiskey, as he liked a drink a little too much .None of your 'Vodka martini, shaken not stirred ', for this fellah, but a pint and a large whisky. This was CALLAN....An assassin for a deniable section of the secret service. Everybody remembers the swinging lightbulb which swung over the opening morose music, then the single shot smashing a mirror with Callans reflection. Anthony valentine ,wonderfully vicious and nasty as Toby Meres, Callans partner, even though they couldnt stand the sight of each other. And the late Russell Hunter as Lonely.

He did a film ,THE WICKER MAN, which was a B-film until it attained cult status to become a classic. I thought Woodward was great,but the all singing dancing CHRISTOPHER LEE took more than i was able to give, to get my head around that.I nearly killed a nephew when he said it was a rip off, of the NICHOLAS CAGE film. Another cracker was a court room drama in the Boer war, BREAKER MORANT, based on a true story.

Callans original story 'A MAGNUM FOR SCHNEIDER' was made as a film. And a few years later Callan was back in a one off telly film, THE WET JOB.....No, He hadn't gone into the porn biz, it wasn't mucky, just had to come out of retirement and murder someone, as you do.

Then he became THE EQUALISER, which gave him a chance to drive around the streets of New York in a nice Jag and blow the baddies to bits.It brought fame fortune and a couple of heartattacks. From cleaning the streets of New York he came back to England to clean the streets of an English town in a corporation bin wagon inCOMMON AS MUCK. But he was in tons of stuff ,always had that mean steely eyed Callan look, even took over CI5 when they did the NEW PROFFESSIONALS. But that in a shell casing is one of my favourites, MR EDWARD WOODWARD(Even if his name did sound like a fart in a bath.)

AS ANY FULE KNO ,NIGEL MOLESWORTH THE CURSE OF ST CUSTARDS SKOOL, AND GORILA OF 3B, IS NOW PRIM MINISTER OF GRATE BRITON..

As any fule kno, grate britin hav produsd many grate writrs. billy shakspere, charlie dikins and, of corse, me ....Nigel Molesworth..the curse of St Custards and gorila of 3b. i rote a heep of books abowt my xperinses at the strikt st custards which like all skools is uterly wet and weedy. but i was sentunced to all thos years in the jug to akquire culture and keep my brane kleen and ayd me to make it to the topp in this attommic age we live in. hem, hem..but aftr years of xperiances with headmasters and kanes,lat,french, geog, hist, algy, geom, chiz,chiz,....skool masters, skool dogs, skool sossages, my bro molesworth 2, fothering (hello clouds hello sky)thomas, I , being an ace reporter told uplifting tales of the brav fight of the boyz,wizz,wizz,who r brave feerless, noble ,etc, etc, also the swots, bulys, cissies, milksops, greedyguts, and oiks, hem, hem....

Grown ups r wot hapens to boyz when skool is finished. So i thort with my St Custards edukatin i would have to find something i wuld be qwalified for and i find it in politiks . i thort i would change my name to Gordon Brown and become ded importent in the gov. And when my best frend Tony Bluur, who is totaly wet and weedy with a fase like a squished tomato and to many teeth and always smiling like a weedy swot, left wurk, i become prim ministr of grate briton. Gordon Brown the curse of downing st and gorila of no 10.