Tim Leatherbarrow: IT'S A WONDERFUL THING THE HUMAN BRAIN, I'LL HAVE TO LEARN HOW TO USE IT ONE DAY.

Tim Leatherbarrow: IT'S A WONDERFUL THING THE HUMAN BRAIN, I'LL HAVE TO LEARN HOW TO USE IT ONE DAY.

CARTOONS,CARTOONISTS N' OTHER CARTOONS N' CARTOONISTS N' WHAT MAKES CARTOONISTS HAPPY!

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

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

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

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

BLOWING OFF LOUD WINDY FARTY NOISES,DRIBBLING SPIT..ALL THE JOYS OF THE BRASS BAND..(notice no blowjob jokes?)

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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?

OH SHIT!..IT'S FINALLY HAPPENED....I AM NOW FIFTY YEARS OF AGE !!!!....OH SHIT!........

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

THE BIG FIVE-OOOOOO(AAaaaarrrrggghhh)OOOHHH!....OR SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST FOR 'F'- ALL!!!!

I MIGHT HAVE HAD A 'DO' FOR MY 50 TH , BUT I'M STILL ONLY 49, 'TILL THURSDAY..!

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

Thanks for the best wishes ,some of them are almost clean and i may be able to keep them, before my wife n' daughter see them. Ah well heres to the next 50 years!!!!!!

PLAY IN A BRASS BAND AND YOU WONT HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT THE HOSEPIPE BAN...

As the country starts to boil under 5 straight days of searing intermittent sunshine.....Well, its time to look foreward to the hosepipe ban. Part of the reason for the hosepipe ban is, when the goverment announce that there's going to be a hosepipe ban if the reservoir levels fall and the north west of England doesnt have 8 straight weeks of monsoon rainfall in the next three hours or so. The kneejerk reaction to this shocking news is that every single person with a blade of grass or a plant or a flower in their back garden is suddenly dragging yards of rubber tubing connected to the stand pipe alongside the house. But when people jam these pipes onto the tap, only a fraction makes it to the buisness end of the pipe. Water is spurting and dribbling from where the pipe is roughly jammed to the tap. And then, the water spurts n' dribbles from the cracks and splits in the pipe itself. This is the gardening version of the water board or public utilities who let us have some very precious exspensive water through our taps, but obviously the cheap crappy water is allowed to flood streets and roads in the middle of towns and cities through burst mains, etc. Apparently the hosepipe ban doesnt apply to the millions of gallons of wasted water, funny that.

The reservoirs in the lake district are way down apparently. It is a little ironic as the towns all around are still being rebuilt after being totally flooded, bridges swept away, the works.... Now theres no water. Around the north of England theres lots of brass bands. Having 'The Lovely Lynne' and her family coming from a brass music background, i've a little experiance of brass instruments and i'm fascinated by the spit valve. The amount of fluid coming out of an average tuba being played constantly whilst walking/marching around the garden would water the grass and flowers. Even the smaller stuff like trumpets and cornets ,because they take heavy puffing and blowing to get a tune would keep a lawn green. The Lovely Lynne plays the trombone and with the varying length of the 'moving bit', she can sit on top of the shed and water the garden near and far depending upon what note she's playing. If the bands stood around a near empty reservoir they could damn near fill it after a performance.....Just remember to boil what comes out of your tap, if and when the goverment see the potential of the brass band for our water supplies.

WATCH WHAT YOU SAY TO THE NEIGHBOURS THE NEXT TIME YOUR AT A COCKTAIL PARTY AS THOSE SNEAKY RUSSIAN SPIES ARE EVERYWHERE!

" INFORMATION FROM AGENT X-15.....THE NEW YORK YANKIES WON AGAIN; MACDONALDS HAVE PUT 3 CENTS ON THEIR BIG MAC; THE LADY FROM 5556 IS HAVING AN AFFAIR WITH THE PIZZA MAN; THE DOGS HAD PUPS....AND HE'S GOT TODAYS DOONSBURY STRIP".....

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

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

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

DONT MENTION THE WORLD CUP!!!!...........

so i *%*$£@+^%££$&XXXXXXXX'in' wont!!!!!!

AMERICAN GENERALS WITH BIG MOUTHS !...DONT APOLOGISE ITS TRADITIONAL!!!!!!.....

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

I USED TO HIDE BEHIND THE COUCH WHEN DOCTOR WHO WAS ON THE TELLY....NOW ITS WHENEVER ENGLAND PLAY.

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

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

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

AAAHHH, IT MAKES YOU PROUD TO BE.....ALGERIAN !

U.S. AND US !

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

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

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

BUTTER-FINGERS!!!!

Everywhere i look ,there's England flags flappin n' fluttering, health and safety regulations allowing, of course. This is a wonderful show of pride and patriotism by the people of our great proud country. I have a lot of faith in the pride and belief of 'everybody' back here at home. The problem ,for me lies with the fact i've absolutly no faith in 'our boys' in the England squad. "C'mon ,Tim, give 'em a chance"thought i to myself and sat down to watch the travesty of a game against the USA, for christs sake. Then afterwards, looked out at the flags fluttering from houses and cars in our close and thought "Ah well, they'll be coming down by the end of next week."

But even after one of the all time goal-keeping 'cock-ups'; And half the squad of deadbeats chosen by our Italian 'gaffer' dead n' beaten by injury, its not all bad. Every cloud has a silver lining, they do say. And even at this time of National disharmony, pain and fear for the next few games and our increasingly slim chances in the tournament, this old saying is true. I was asked a few years ago to illustrate a book in Hong Kong, for the chinese, written by a Geordie lad, explaining various football sayings and expressions. As ever my moment of fame never came to pass and the artwork wasn't used. But after the England game ,this particular one , i think is particually apt.

ANSWERS TO THE QUESTIONS ,A QUESTIONABLE GUIDE TO THE LIFE ,THE ,UNIVERSE N' ALL THAT STUFF!

Gazing out into space, cos' you can see it from our back garden on a clear day. I wondered on the mysteries of life the universe ,smelly socks n'the intensity and frequency of skidmarks on underwear n'stuff n' everything of importance to our daily grind. I put my massive,if underused intellect to the problems and mysteries involved. After a while i'd solved half of the mystery of the cosmos. I'd worked out the questions.

WHAT..?

WHY...?

WHERE...?

WHEN....?

HOW...?

PHEW.....WHO WAS THAT....?

WHOSE ROUND IS IT....?

DO YOU FANCY A BIT O'..........?

WHERES ME KEYS.......?

Now having solved half of the equation all i needed was the answers, easy, no sweat......

ARE YOU DEAF,OR WHAT?

'COS!

WHEN DID YOU LAST HAVE THEM?

THEN

LIKE THAT

IT WASN'T ME

I GOT THE LAST ONE.

NO!..GET OFF N' GO TO SLEEP.

(couldnt find an answer to that one)

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

TIM(FINGER ON THE PULSE)LEATHERBARROW TOLD YOU SO!

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

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

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

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

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

IF OPPOSITES ATTRACT DOES THE OPPSITION CONGEAL? AS OPPOSING MILIBAND BROTHERS OPPOSE FOR THE OPPOSITION!

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



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

WWW.FFF-IN'.COMPUTER.DEADSTOP.COM

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

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

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.